Another half hour passed whilst Audrey sat in quiet, suggestive conversation with Weber, her insides burning with frustration and disgust. When Otto and his secretary left, he leaned in to kiss her neck and she willed herself not to bristle, casting her eyes over to the dance floor. Gerta was now hanging off Marianne, who appeared to be supporting her. She gestured away from the floor and Gerta nodded, putting a hand to her mouth. They were heading for the ladies’ toilets, and Audrey spied an opportunity. The brass continued to blare as Weber turned Audrey’s face to him, pressed his lips onto hers, leaving behind the taste of gin and dominance. A sort of growl slipped through his mouth, a sound of impatient longing, and she pulled away, smiled demurely.
“I’m just going to freshen up,” she shouted over the din. He nodded, and released his grip on her.
“Five minutes,” he said.
She slid from the booth with a feeling of having slipped a trap, and hurried toward the toilets.
“Ada!” Gerta exclaimed. She was standing at the sinks. Marianne was clearly in a stall. Gerta slid a little on the tile floor as she reached for Audrey, who was glad, for her sake, that Ernst wasn’t here tonight. Women in the Reich weren’t meant to drink to excess, and he wouldn’t have liked her behaviour. Audrey hoped Weber wouldn’t mention it to him.
“Are you okay?” Audrey asked.
“Ugh, yes. It’s those gin and tonics.”
In the stall, Marianne urinated with a little sigh.
“I think when you’re done here, we should get you a taxi,” Audrey suggested. She thought for a beat. “I’ll ride with you.” She would figure out some way to dodge Weber. She hadn’t yet had a chance like this, alone with Gerta, and wasn’t about to squander it.
Gerta gave a childlike frown. “There’s no one waiting for me, what does it matter? Ernst won’t even be home until Saturday. They’re in Frankfurt until tomorrow.”
Excitement flared. This was what Audrey had hoped for. “You said they’ve been all over for this speaking tour?” she asked.
“Yes, he hasn’t even telegrammed from the hotels,” Gerta complained. “In eight days!”
“But then he’ll be back for a while, right?”
Gerta turned to the mirror and patted her hair, tried to fix a rogue strand. She grasped it between her fingers on the second attempt. “Yes. A week. No.” She shook her head. “What day is it? Two weeks. Two weeks. Then we’re going to Hanover.”
The stall door slammed and Marianne came out, washed her hands with the hotel’s expensive soap. The pungent scent of lily-of-the-valley filled the room as Gerta continued to struggle with her hair.
“Let me,” Audrey said, moving behind her. Repinning Gerta’s errant curls, she casually asked, “What are you doing in Hanover? A little getaway?”
“Sort of,” Gerta said. “Ernst is driving the Führer, but we’re going to stay over, visit a couple of friends. Get a smart hotel.”
A little shiver danced across Audrey’s shoulders.
“Come on,” Marianne said, ignoring Audrey. “I’m hungry. Let’s go for dinner.” She seized Gerta’s arm, but Audrey caught the other and held fast. Marianne shrugged and exited the bathroom, muttering about her hunger. A cacophony of loud brass swelled for a moment before the polished wooden door swung shut.
“What’s the Führer doing there?” Audrey pressed, blood pulsing through her temples.
Gerta stepped back, thoughtful, and swayed. “I think it’s some Hitler Youth thing,” she said. “At the Opera House.”
Audrey’s heart raced. She needed to know when, but she didn’t want to risk Gerta’s suspicions by asking more. Or was Gerta too drunk to remember that she’d revealed anything at all? It was a gamble. Not one she was willing to take. Hopefully knowing the day would be enough.
“Well, I’m so glad the two of you will get a chance to spend some time together,” she said brightly.
Gerta smiled, though her expression was pained. “I know I should feel fortunate that we’re so close to the Führer,” she said, leaning into Audrey, her eyes unfocused. “But sometimes it feels like he might ruin us.”
Chapter 24
Audrey
BERLIN, GERMANY | MARCH 1939
Friedrich!” Audrey called the moment she crossed the threshold of the house. Then she realized it was nearly eleven o’clock. Daniel and Ilse would have been asleep for hours now, maybe Friedrich, too, but this news could not wait. She felt a surge of exhilaration that—finally—she could deliver something of value. She kicked off her shoes. “Friedrich,” she said again, quieter this time as she rushed down the hall. “Are you down here?”
Footsteps sounded and then he appeared, concern on his face. “What is it?” he demanded, taking in her windswept hair and bright eyes. “You’re so late, is everything all—”
“Yes,” she said, breathless. “I have news. Come. Sit.”
He followed her into the sitting room, though neither sat down. She still wore her coat.
“Weber took me for drinks, but it was Gerta Roth who did all the talking.”
“What?”
“She was drunk, and told me all about how she and Ernst hardly have time together, but that they’re going to be in Hanover weekend after next, starting Friday.” She grinned. “Hitler will be speaking at the Staatsoper Opera House on the Saturday. I couldn’t get the time without drawing suspicion, but I think—”
“It is enough,” Friedrich said, his expression clearing. “They will release more in the news the day before. But with date and location, we can plan. This is brilliant, Audrey. Brilliant!” He moved to embrace her, then rather awkwardly clapped her on the shoulder instead. “Well done. Well done.”
Audrey basked in the praise for a moment before the elation fell away. “There’s more. The opportunity is not without complications.” She pinched her lips. “He’s speaking to an assembly of the Hitler Youth.”
Friedrich’s shoulders slumped. “Goddamnit. Are you serious?”
“Yes. I think we need to talk to the others.”
Friedrich looked to the ceiling, then back down at her. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
