Page 67 of The Pianist's Wife
‘You’re right, Mama. The name does sound very similar, surprisingly so.’
‘I imagine that girl is long gone. What do you think they did with her? I suppose her father denounced her and moved on with his life, and tried to forget all about his first wife. It was all such a tragedy if you ask me, such an upstanding man being caught up in all that.’
‘Her father always seemed like a very kindly man, I wouldn’t have thought—’
‘She was aJew, darling,’ her mother interrupted. ‘He would have to be stupid, not simply kindly, to keep her. She wasn’t a pet like that little dog you’re minding, she was a girl who should never have been allowed to exist in the first place.’
Gisele finished what she was doing and put the pheasant in the oven, grateful that she had something to do and hadn’t had to look at her mother while they were speaking. She’d always loved Christmas dinner, and she’d been so happy when Hans had come home with a pheasant that he’d managed to obtain from a friend in the countryside, along with some fresh vegetables, but her mother had even managed to ruin that by coming to stay. And now she was having to try to keep her face neutral and not scream at her mother about how much she hated her and her hateful ideology. Not to mention trying to stop thinking about Amira, and whether she even had enough food or where she was sleeping.
‘I’m just going to go upstairs and freshen up before Hans comes home,’ she said, knowing that her mother would approve. ‘Would you mind watching the children for me for a moment? I won’t be long.’
It was barely twenty minutes later, as Gisele sat and stared at her reflection in the mirror, that Hans arrived home. She heard him downstairs, greeting the children and being the cause of much excitement, before he came upstairs and closed their bedroom door behind him.
‘Merry Christmas, my love,’ he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, turning to look up at him, smiling when he leaned lower and kissed her lips.
‘I have something for you,’ he said.
Gisele turned as he took a velvet box from his jacket pocket and presented it to her. ‘Hans, you shouldn’t have.’
‘Open it.’
She did, and found a fine gold chain with a small diamond in the centre of it. He reached over and lifted it, placing it around her neck and doing the clasp for her as she held her hair out of the way.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, admiring it in the mirror. ‘Absolutely beautiful.’
‘You deserve it,’ he said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he looked at her in the mirror, their eyes colliding.
‘You look sad,’ she said, one hand rising to touch the diamond at her throat. ‘Is everything alright?’
He took a breath, sitting heavily on the bed. She turned to look at him, worry rising inside of her at the way his head hung.
‘Have you heard anything?’
‘I can’t just ask how they are,’ he muttered, but he didn’t sound angry.
Gisele moved from the chair and went to sit beside him. She’d never seen Hans like this, almost as if he were about to break down before her.
‘I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,’ she said. ‘Please, if there’s something, anything—’
‘Gisele, I applied for a transfer that would see me in a new role,’ he said, standing and pacing in front of her. ‘I would be spending an extended amount of time at Buchenwald.’
Her breath died in her throat. ‘At Buchenwald camp?’
Hans nodded and stopped walking. ‘Amira has been your best friend your whole life, and the fact that she’s in there, when I know what happens to those prisoners...’ He took a few steps back and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning his jacket and pulling at his tie to loosen it. ‘I know she should be safe in the special camp, but if I’m there at least some of the time, then I can make sure she stays alive.’
Gisele couldn’t help but think he looked defeated, and knew she was partially responsible. Amira was her friend; she was the reason Hans felt an obligation to help.
‘I sent her there, Gisele. I was the one who helped her enter the camp, and I can’t sleep at night knowing what could happen to her.’
Gisele rose and went to her husband, dropping to her knees and putting her arms around his waist, her head falling to his lap. His fingers found her hair, and she held on to him even tighter when she realised he was crying.
‘Hans,’ she murmured, rising so that she could sit on the bed with him and hold him properly in her arms. ‘You didn’t send Amira there, she went of her own accord. If you hadn’t helped her, she would have found another way. This is not your fault, nor your responsibility.’
He shook his head. ‘But if I hadn’t told them where to find Fred in the first place—’
‘Stop.’ Gisele looked at him long and hard, seeing her usually strong, capable-of-anything man slowly breaking before her. ‘What would have happened to us if any of your superiors had discovered that you knew Fred and hadn’t assisted them? What would have happened to our family? I might have been angry with you at the time, but I understand.’
