“It’s your neighbours’ baby. The Abramses’,” Audrey said in a rush. “It was still in the house. It’s been alone since last night, I found it in its crib.”
“This must be Daniel.” She began checking him over. “He’s breathing. But he needs fluids. Milk. Water it down and bring it in some kind of a bottle. Use the milk bottle itself if you have to.”
Audrey sprinted into the kitchen. When she returned, she found Ilse had wiped the child down as best she could, then wrapped him in a blanket from the divan. Ilse reached out a shaky hand for the proffered bottle.
“It should be heated, but we’ll try it and—and see,” she said as she put the bottle up to the baby’s mouth and dribbled a few drops between its greying lips.
Audrey held her breath.
The baby spluttered, but the milk went down. Ilse tried again. The baby swallowed, then opened his mouth for more. Ilse continued feeding as he slowly sipped. Audrey sighed with relief. Her heart began to slow as the adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins since finding the child ebbed away.
Ilse’s eyes shone with tears as Audrey’s mind ran through all that had just happened. “The register said there were four children,” she said.
Ilse shook her head. “Four children and one baby. He was born just in the summer. It was…” She sniffled. “Happy news. For a change.”
Daniel’s eyes were now locked on Ilse. Audrey watched the two of them stare at one another in the glow of the firelight. In other circumstances, it would have been a tender sight.
“Then he must have been born after the register was taken. Or maybe they found a way to hide his existence?” Audrey said. “But he was in his crib upstairs. How could they have missed him? Why would they leave him? They take all the other babies, or…” She’d heard what the SS sometimes did to babies, because it made transport of the family more difficult.
“It’s a miracle they didn’t,” Ilse said. “A miracle you found him.”
A lump came to Audrey’s throat at the image of the Abramses being shunted from the house at gunpoint, not knowing where they were being taken but knowing their baby was asleep upstairs. Knowing that if they didn’t die, he most certainly would. Slowly, and alone. The hideousness of the whole thing hit her, and finally, Audrey broke down.
Ilse reached out for her hand as she sobbed, the dam in her heart bursting at everything they had lost. The Kaplans, her father. Their city and their future, now so clouded and intangible. Even her dreams of a career in music, of a life beyond the confines of expectation. All snatched away. The blows had come in such quick succession, and nothing would ever be the same again. It was as though a permanent night had fallen, cloaking a path that was no longer visible.
She gripped Ilse’s fingers, grasping at the only constant in her world, the person she was forging on ahead for, and with, as they fought their way through with nothing but a flicker of hope to light the way.
Chapter 19
Audrey
BERLIN, GERMANY | MARCH 1939
Here’s more,” Frau Schulze told Audrey, handing her a stack of CVs to add to the pile she was sorting through.
“Thank you,” Audrey said, not making eye contact with her.
They were hiring for a new office girl. Inge, who looked like she could be Audrey’s cousin, had been brought on to fill Audrey’s role when Johanna’s departure precipitated her sudden promotion. Audrey had been training Inge on the assessments just as Johanna had trained her, and was looking forward to handing over the responsibility to Inge entirely once they hired an extra body. Since discovering Daniel Abrams, Audrey was terrified of what might happen if she ever came across another child on an assessment.
In the intervening weeks, Audrey had worked to get closer to Weber, an effort that had not gone unnoticed by Frau Schulze.
“On your head be it,” she’d muttered. “Foolish girl.”
She flirted with Weber, probing for useful information, and Weber was clearly interested, which was a good thing. But Audrey was unnerved by his indifference to Johanna’s flight, and hoped his behaviour was a sign he didn’t know of the pregnancy. She didn’t want to consider how callous a man would have to be to outright ignore such a thing, move on to his next conquest in the same breath.
Weber opened his office door now. She looked up.
“A word, Jakob,” he said gruffly, with half a glance toward Frau Schulze’s retreating back.
She smoothed her skirt and followed Weber, straightening as she walked.
Audrey was invited into his office at least once or twice a day now. He, like Vogt, found reasons for his hands to wander. Every time he slipped an arm around her lower hips or made some insinuation, she thought of Ilse and all the Kaplans, of Daniel’s family and the countless other ghosts whose homes she had helped confiscate, and she knew there was only one way to end it. Her worth as Ada Jakob lay in whether she could leverage her skills into something valuable. In a game that seemed to have no rules, the winner would be determined by who was willing to risk more for the victory. And so she responded to his flirtations with enthusiasm. He blew a little hot and cold, but Audrey had learned that the volatility was all part of the seduction.
“Yes, Herr Weber?” she asked as he took a seat behind his desk.
“Do we have a decent pool to draw from? For the new girl?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. A pause stretched between them. “Is there anything else I can help with, Herr Weber?”
He drummed his fingers softly on his leather desk pad, studying her. “You’ve been working very hard, Jakob. I should think you are due for a pay rise soon.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you, Herr Weber. That’s very generous.”
“Would you join me for a drink after work, Ada?” It was the first time he had used her first name when addressing her, as he had with Johanna. It was a signal. An invitation. “A few of us were going to head over to The Adlon at six. The Roths. The Jagers. Otto Basner and his secretary.”
Audrey didn’t know these names, but it was clear he thought they should impress her, which meant they could be rather important. He dropped each of them with intention and let them land at her feet, waiting for them to resonate. The cell had a meeting tonight, but there was still plenty of time for a drink before eight. A rush rose inside her, a surge of determination that cauterized any lingering fear.
“Oh,” she said demurely, flicking her eyes down so that her eyelashes swept her cheeks. “I’m not sure, sir, it’s been a long week.”
She looked up to find a grin playing around his mouth. He liked her denial, her innocent pushback, and Audrey understood now what Johanna had meant about his slyness, that she hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late.
“All the more reason to have a drink with me.” His tone was stained silk.
She nodded. “Then I would be delighted.”
Are men really this easy? she wondered as she walked back to her desk, ignoring the inquisitive glances from Inge. Could she, in the end, get what she needed from Weber with little more than a playful game of cat and mouse?
