Page 32 of Love in the Shadows

Johanna desperately wanted to touch her cheek, trace the strong line of her jaw, feel her soft lips beneath her fingertips. Most of all, she wanted to take away her pain and see the beautiful smile that she kept well hidden. “I feel the same way,” she said.

“I very much doubt that, Frau Neumann.” Fraulein Brun picked up the wood basket and went outside.

What would their world become after the war? Johanna could never accept that the merciless actions of such men were either necessary or acceptable, and when those husbands and fathers returned to their families, what then? Would their wives and children become the outlet for their aggression and anger, as had been the case with her own father? No matter which way she considered what was happening around her, history was repeating itself. The thought that Astrid’s childhood would be marked by this war, possibly even worse than her own had been by the previous one, made her sick to her stomach and profoundly sad.

As she walked through the dining room and into the foyer fighting angry tears, she had an overwhelming desire to hold Astrid close and to never let her go.

She entered the room they’d designated as the classroom on the second floor. Astrid was sitting on her chair in front of a small table with her back to the door. Nanny was standing with her back to her, ruler in one hand and tapping the palm of her other, facing the map of Europe on the wall. To one side of the map was a handwritten sheet of paper titled “National Socialism”, and another titled “German Reich”. Each had bullet-pointed notes too small for her to read from where she stood.

“But why so many countries?” Astrid said.

“Because we must preserve calm and order, Astrid,” Nanny said in a tone of indignation. “Not all peoples of the world are as clean as we are. They follow ideologies that threaten the livelihoods of hard-working nationalists, they spread diseases that might lead to our extinction, and they incite riots. When people challenge the fundamental principles on which our Fatherland is founded, we must rise as a united force and defend ourselves.”

Johanna couldn’t disagree more with the words being drilled into her daughter’s impressionable mind, and especially with Nanny’s use of the Nazi term “Fatherland” to describe what she preferred to think of as her homeland.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Astrid said.

Thank heavens her daughter hadn’t responded with blind obedience. She cleared her throat to attract Nanny’s attention and when Nanny turned to her, Johanna smiled. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

“Nothing is more important than a solid understanding of our political and social history.” She looked like she’d swallowed something nasty. “Can I help with something, Frau Neumann?”

She’d liked Nanny as she would any distant relative, but the differences between their outlook now caused her to question whether she’d made the right decision in keeping her on when moving here. After all, Johanna had time on her hands, and wouldn’t it be better to shape her daughter’s future with talk of the fine arts, even if they were currently banned?

She would prefer to fill her daughter’s head with an appreciation of surrealism, and abstract expressionism, ballet and opera, and the newer styles of swing and jazz that she’d heard snippets of from America while working at the orchestra. She wanted Astrid to read and be influenced by the words of William Faulkner and Margaret Mitchell, rather than Nanny and Nazism. Not only did studying the fine arts bring joy and passion, but it also triggered deep thinking and lively debate.

Then, as an adult Astrid would have a broader outlook, be confident in her own mind, and she would become a remarkable woman. Astrid wouldn’t allow herself to be bullied or suppress her views to conform with such a narrow world view that determined one race or creed to be superior to all others. She would be more courageous than Johanna had been. That’s what she wanted for her daughter – that, and the freedom to enjoy her childhood.

“I was wondering if Astrid would like to go outside and play for a bit,” she said.

“Mutter, Mutter.” Astrid got up. She wrapped her small arms tightly around Johanna. “Can I go in the garden, on the swing?”

“I’m not sure how safe it is,” Nanny said.

Johanna sighed. She had played in her grandmother’s garden during the Great War, and it had helped her to make some of the bad memories less vivid. They had ventured into the garden only a handful of times in the past five months and she’d not felt in danger. Nanny was being overly cautious. And, anyway, if they died together while enjoying a few minutes of freedom outside, then so be it. “We won’t be long, and I’ll be with her,” she said.

“There’s still a chill in the air. She might get ill.”

Johanna smiled. “My dear Nanny. We need to breathe. It’s not healthy to be locked up indoors all day every day. We should take advantage of the fact that there is a little sunshine this morning.”

“Yes, Frau Neumann.” Nanny sounded as though she had something stuck in her throat.

Johanna was sure Nanny’s concern was as much for Johanna’s welfare as Astrid’s. She meant well. “We won’t stray from the garden. You can keep an eye on us from the window, if you feel the need, or you can take a break.”

“If you must go, Frau Neumann?”

Johanna stroked Astrid’s back as she held Nanny’s concerned gaze. “We must, Nanny. So, please don’t worry.” She looked to Astrid and smiled. “Shall we get your coat, darling?”

Astrid ran down the stairs, and Johanna struggled to keep up with her. She followed her through the kitchen and into the garden.

She inhaled the fresh air as Astrid ran to the swing. The sky was a deep sea-blue, and the trees were filling out with leaves. The deep carpet of forest-green pines that bounded them remained a reliable protector. Still, she got an image of enemy troops marching towards them from within the undergrowth. She looked to the sky and dreamed of her beloved Berlin. She’d always loved spring there, with its evolution of colours and shapes, and floral scents. It was the season that resonated hope and transformation and she needed both right now.

“Push me, Mutter,” Astrid said.

“It’s very pretty, here,” she said as she pushed.

“Can I get a drink and something to eat?” Astrid asked. “Can we have a picnic?”

Johanna laughed. “I’ll see what I can rustle up.” She gave Astrid one last big push. “You’ll have to swing yourself.” She wandered into the kitchen.

---