Authors: Danielle Steel
The tragedy of Kassandra was not that she was in love with a man other than her husband, but that her country had fallen into the hands of the Nazis, and the man she loved so desperately was a Jew. I warned her, for her own sake and for his, but she wouldn't leave him. She wouldn't leave either one of us, in fact. In her own way she was loyal to us both. I can't say I ever really suffered from her attachment to this man. She was as devoted as she had been before, perhaps more so. But she was equally devoted to him. Even when they stopped publishing his work, even when they shunned him, and at the last ' His voice cracked and he could barely go on. Even when they killed him.
She was with him the day they took him. They dragged him from his house, they beat him, and when they found your mother, they ' beat her ' they might even have killed her except that she thought to tell them who she was so they left her alone. She made her way home. And when I got here, all she could talk about was that she had disgraced me and how afraid she was that they would hurt us. She felt she had to offer her life to secure ours ' and she couldn't live with what they had done to him. I went to a meeting for two hours, and when I came home, she was dead. In the bathroom of her rooms down the hall. He waved vaguely toward the rooms Max had occupied only a week before.
That, Ariana, is the story of your mother, who loved a man the Nazis wanted dead. She couldn't bear the pam of the reality they had shown her ' she couldn't live with the ugliness and the brutality and the fear' . So he turned to face his daughter "in a sense they killed her. Just as, in a sense, they may dare to kill you, if you choose to take the risk of loving Max. Don't do it ' oh, God, please, Ariana ' don't ' His face sank into his hands and for the first time in her life Ariana heard her father cry. She went to him, trembling and silent, and held him tightly in her arms, her own tears falling onto his jacket as his mingled with the gold dust of her hair.
I'm so sorry ' Oh, Papa, I'm so sorry. She said it to him again and again, horrified at what he had told her, and yet for the first time in her life, her mother had become real. Papa, don't ' please ' I'm sorry ' I don't know what happened ' I'm so confused. It was so strange having him here in that bedroom ' in our house, hidden, frightened. I wanted to help him. I felt so sorry for him.
So did I. Her father raised his head at last. But you must let him go. There will be a man for you one day. A good man, and I hope the right man, in better times. She nodded silently as she dried a fresh cascade of tears.
Do you suppose we'll ever see him again?
Perhaps one day. His arms went around his daughter. I hope we will. She nodded and they stood there, the man who had lost Kassandra and the little girl she had left him with instead. Please, my darling, be careful now, while we're at war.
I will. I promise. Her eyes turned up toward his then as she bestowed on him a tiny smile. Besides, I never want to leave you.
But at that he laughed softly. And that, my darling, will change, too.
Two weeks later Walmar got a letter at the office. It had no return address and contained a single sheet of paper with a hastily scrawled address. Max was in Lucerne. It was the last that Walmar von Gotthard ever heard of him.
The summer passed uneventfully. Walmar was busy at the bank, and Ariana was busy at the hospital three mornings a week. With school no longer an obstacle, she had more time for her volunteer work and more time to run the house. She and Gerhard and her father went on a week's holiday to the mountains, and when they returned, Gerhard turned sixteen. His father announced with amusement on the morning of his birthday that now his son was a man. That was apparently also the opinion of Hitler's army, because in the desperate last push of the fall of 1944, they were drafting every man and boy within reason. Gerhard received notice that he was being drafted four days after the birthday that he and his father and sister had celebrated with such glee. He had three days to report.
I'm don't believe it. He stared at the notice over his breakfast. He was already late for school. But they can't do that ' can they, Father? His father looked at him gloomily.
I'm not sure. We'll see.
Later that morning Walmar visited an old friend of his, a colonel, and learned that nothing could be done.
We need him, Walmar. We need them all.
It's that bad, then?
It's worse.
I see.
They had discussed the war, the colonel's wife, and Walmar's bank for a few moments, and then resolutely Walmar had gone back to his office. As he sat in the back of the Rolls-Royce driven by his chauffeur, he pondered what he had to do. He would not lose his son. He had lost enough.
When Walmar got back to his office, he made two calls. He returned to the house at lunchtime, extracted some papers from the wall safe in his study, and returned to work. He didn't get home that evening until after six, and when he did, he found his children upstairs on the third floor, in Gerhard's bedroom. Ariana had been crying and Gerhard's face was filled with fear and despair.
They can't take him, can they, Father? Ariana believed her father was able to move mountains. But her eyes held little hope. And neither did Walmar's when he answered softly.
Yes, they can.
Gerhard said nothing; he only sat there, stunned at what had befallen him. The notice still lay cast open on his desk. He had read it a hundred times since that morning. Two other boys in his class had also received their notices. But he had said nothing of his own. His father had told him to remain silent, lest there be something that he could do. So that means I'm going. He said it in a dull, flat voice and his sister gave way to fresh tears.
Yes, it does mean that, Gerhard. Despite the stern voice he eyed his children gently. Be proud to serve your country.
Are you crazy? He and Ariana stared at their father in shocked horror.
Be still. On his last words he closed Gerhard's bedroom door. With a finger to his lips, he urged them closer and then whispered softly, You don't have to go.
I don't? It was a jubilant stage whisper from Gerhard. You fixed it?
No. Walmar shook his head seriously. I couldn't. We're leaving.
What? Gerhard looked shocked once more, but his father and sister exchanged a knowing glance. It was like Max's flight only a few months before. How will we go?
I'll take you into Switzerland tomorrow. We can say that you're sick here at home. You don't have to report until Thursday that's not for another three days. I'll take you over the border and leave you with friends of mine in Lausanne, or in Zurich if I have to. Then I'll come back for your sister. He glanced gently at his daughter and touched her hand. Perhaps she would see Max again after all.
Why doesn't she come with us? ' Gerhard looked puzzled, but his father shook his head.
I can't get everything ready that quickly, and if she stays here, they won't suspect that we're pulling out for good. I'll be back here in a day anyway, and then I'll leave with her for good and all. But you're all going to have to be absolutely, totally quiet about this. Our lives depend on it. Do you understand? They both nodded.
Gerhard, I've ordered you a different passport. We can use it at the border if you have to. But whatever you do in the meantime, I want you to look resigned to going into the army. I even want you to seem pleased. That also means in this house.
Don't you trust the servants? With all his sixteen years Gerhard was still naive. He overlooked Berthold's preoccupation with the Party, and Fr+nulein Hedwig's blind faith in Adolf Hitler.
Not with your lives.
Gerhard shrugged. All right.
Don't pack anything. We'll buy everything we need there.
Are we taking money?
I have money there already. Wahnar had been prepared for years. I'm only sorry that we waited this long. We should have never come back from vacation. He sighed deeply, but Ariana tried to console him.
You couldn't know. When will you be back from Switzerland, Papa?
Today is Monday. We leave in the morning ' Wednesday night. And you and I will leave on Thursday night after I go to the bank that day. We can say we're going out to dinner, and then we will never come back. It will take a little maneuvering to get the servants to think Gerhard reported to the army without saying good-bye. As long as you keep Anna and Hedwig out of Gerhard's rooms tomorrow and Wednesday, we can just say he left too early Thursday morning to see anyone at all. If you and I are here, no one will suspect anything. I'm going to try and be back in time for dinner.
What have you told them at the bank?
Nothing. I won't have to explain my absence. There are enough secret meetings going on these days that I can easily cover myself there. All right, both of you? Is everything clear now?
The war is almost over, children, and when it ends, the Nazis will pull everything down with them when they go. I don't want either of you here for that. It's time for us to go. We can pick up the pieces later, Gerhard, meet me in the caf+! around the corner from my office at eleven in the morning. We'll go to the train station together from there. Is that clear now?
Yes. The boy looked suddenly grave.
Ariana? You'll stay up here tomorrow and look after Gerhard, won't you?
Absolutely, Father. But how will he leave the house in the morning without being seen?
He'll leave at five before anyone gets up. Right, Gerhard?
Right, Father.
Wear warm clothes for the trip. We'll have to walk the last part.
You, too, Father? Ariana was worried as she searched her father's eyes.
Me, too. And I'm quite capable of doing it, thank you. Probably a great deal more so than this boy. He stood up then, rumpled his son's hair, and prepared to leave the room. He smiled at them, but there were no answering smiles from his children. Don't worry. It will go safely. And one day we'll be back. But as he closed the door behind him, Ariana wondered if they would.
Frau Gebsen. Walmar von Gotthard looked down imperiously at his secretary, his Homburg in his hand. I will be gone for the rest of the day, in meetings.
You understand ' where I'm going.
Of course, Herr von Gotthard.
Very well. He marched quickly from the room. She had no idea where he was going. But she thought she did. To the Reichstag of course, to see the Minister of Finance again. And if he didn't appear on the morrow, she would understand that the meetings had resumed again. She understood about those things.
Walmar knew that he had timed his exit perfectly. The Minister of Finance was spending a week in France, consulting over the situation of the Reich's finances in Paris and taking inventory of the vast store of paintings they were sending back to Berlin. Quite a windfall for the Reich.
He had told his driver not to wait for him that morning, and he walked quickly around the corner to the workers' caf+!. Gerhard had left the house on schedule at five that morning, with a kiss from his sister and a last look over his shoulder at the home he had grown up in, before he walked the twelve miles to the center of Berlin.
As Walmar entered the caf+!, he saw his son there but offered no sign of recognition. He merely walked toward the men's rest room, his face obscured by his Homburg, his briefcase in his hand. Once behind the locked door of the rest room, he quickly stepped out of his suit, putting on a pair of old work pants he had taken from the garage. Over his shirt he pulled a sweater, on his head a nondescript old cap, then an old warm jacket, and back into the briefcase went his suit. The Homburg he shoved brutally to the bottom of the trash. A moment later he joined Gerhard and with a vague nod and a coarse greeting signaled for him to go.
They took a cab to the station and were quickly lost in the milling throng. Twenty minutes later they were on the train bound for the border, their travel papers in order, their identification secure, their faces masks. Walmar was increasingly proud of Gerhard, who had played his part to perfection. He was overnight a fugitive, but learning quickly how to be a successful one.
Fr+nulein Ariana? ' Fr+nulein Ariana? There came a sharp knocking at the door. It was Fr+nulein Hedwig, her face peering into the girl's as Ariana gingerly opened the door. But Ariana was quick to press a finger to her lips to silence Hedwig, and she rapidly joined the older woman in the hall.
What's going on here?
Sshh ' you'll wake him. Gerhard isn't feeling well at all.
Does he have a fever?
I don't think so. I think mostly just a dreadful cold.
Let me see him.
I can't do that. I promised him that we'd let him sleep all day. He's terrified he'll be too sick to go to the army on Thursday. He just wants to sleep it off.
Of course. I understand. You don't think we should call the doctor?
Ariana shook her head. Not unless he gets much worse.
Fr+nulein Hedwig nodded, pleased that her young charge should be so anxious to serve his country. He's a good boy.
Ariana smiled benevolently in answer and kissed the old woman on the cheek as they stood in the hall. Thanks to you.
Hedwig blushed at Ariana's compliment. Should I bring him tea?
No, it's all right. I'll make him some later. Right now he's asleep.
Well, let me know if he needs me.
I will, I promise. Thank you.
Bitte sch+|n? And a moment later Fr+nulein Hedwig went on her way.
Twice that afternoon and once that evening she pressed her services on Ariana again, but each time Ariana insisted that her brother had awakened earlier, eaten something, and then gone back to sleep. It was by then late Tuesday evening, and she only had to play the game until her father returned on Wednesday night. After that they were home free. Her father could claim that he had taken Gerhard to the army himself at the crack of dawn. All they had to do was make it through Wednesday. It was only a matter of another twenty-four hours. She could do that. And on Thursday evening she and her father would be gone, too.