Page 20 of Love in the Shadows

She hadn’t realised Fraulein Brun had returned, but when she stopped playing, the fraulein was standing in the doorway with a bucket filled with mud, and a stunned expression.

Fabienne had been brought to a halt in the kitchen by the beautiful sound and hypnotised into the living room in silence. Her mother hadn’t played as well as the kommandant’s wife. It had been Fabienne’s grandfather who had bought the piano for Mamie. Mamie had stopped playing after her husband died of a heart attack in 1912. They’d kept it tuned and well looked after until the war, and it had held its tune since.

Fabienne used to tinkle a bit, but Frau Neumann was exceptionally talented. She smiled at Fabienne, and Fabienne became aware that the music had stopped. She was sorry she’d interrupted.

“Do you play?” Frau Neumann asked.

Fabienne came forward with the bucket. “No.” She set it in the corner of the room and dug a pit in the middle of the mix with her hand. “You play beautifully.”

“Mutter’s the best in Berlin,” Astrid said.

Fabienne had been proud of her mother too. As she held Frau Neumann’s gaze, it was as if they held a secret between them. “I have no doubt about that.”

“It’s a wonderful piano,” Frau Neumann said. She stroked the light-brown wood with tenderness.

“Papy bought it for Mamie when they got married. He used to play a little, but it’s Mamie who is the talented one in our family. My maman played a little, and Nancy, when we lived here.”

Frau Neumann got up from the seat. “It’s such an important thing to have in our lives,” she said. “We would be nothing without the gift of music. Like art, it reaches into our heart, comforts us in our darkest moments, and unites us through its beauty.”

Fabienne sensed her loss as equal to her passion. “Let’s hope the war doesn’t take that from us too,” she said. Remorse tainted her smile.

Frau Neumann nodded. “Let me help you with that.” She started to cross the room.

Fabienne saw Müller before Frau Neumann.

“I’ll do that, Frau Neumann. It’s not a woman’s job.” He sneered at Fabienne. “You lift it and I’ll guide it,” he said. Fabienne held the top, and between them they put it in the pot. He stood and grabbed the top branches roughly. “You sort out the soil.”

It was no surprise that he wasn’t going to get his hands dirty. Fabienne pressed the mix firmly around the trunk, so the tree wouldn’t tilt.

Nanny entered the living room and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to trouble you, Frau Neumann. I wanted to know if you were planning to go to the Women’s League meeting this evening?”

Fabienne watched joy drain from Frau Neumann, her gaze flitting as if unsettled by the invitation, and Astrid’s obvious disappointment as she watched her mother closely. Fabienne had heard about the meetings that were attended by the German women to propagate messages from the Reich. She couldn’t imagine Frau Neumann wanting to be party to them. From what she’d seen of her interaction with her daughter over the tree, she guessed Frau Neumann would rather spend the evening with Astrid and playing piano.

“I have a bit of a headache coming on, so I’ll skip this one.”

Frau Neumann avoided the nanny’s stern stare, and Fabienne noted her hands were trembling. She smiled inwardly at the rebuff, though it had clearly cost Frau Neumann a lot to reject the invitation, and she shifted her attention from Nanny, who looked as though she had something to say about Frau Neumann’s decision, to Müller who, with deadly smiling eyes, looked as though he was taking note of an indiscretion, and it would give him immense pleasure to inform the kommandant.

Frau Neumann kept her focus on Nanny. “Hauptmann Müller can take you.”

“I am under orders—”

Fabienne hadn’t seen Frau Neumann as fierce as she looked now, with her arms tight to her sides, her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to watch Müller squirm, but he didn’t seem to bat an eyelid. Though Nanny blinked repeatedly as she watched.

“And I am telling you. You will take Hilda into town and wait for her until the meeting is finished. Her safety is important to us all. My husband will be back soon, and he is more than capable of looking after me and Astrid.”

Müller clicked his heels, bowed his head, and retreated into the foyer. Nanny left the room.

Fabienne wondered if Frau Neumann felt as she did, that they had intruded in more ways than one and had stolen from them the one small treasure that was a shared moment in which the war didn’t exist.

“Will that be all today, Frau Neumann?” Fabienne asked. “I put the candles and holders on the kitchen table. I thought you might like to dress the tree with Astrid.”

Frau Neumann gave her an apologetic smile. “Yes, of course. I don’t expect to see you tomorrow.”

Fabienne thought she saw a quiver in her lips. “If you are sure?”

Frau Neumann cleared her throat. “Yes. I can manage for a day.”

Her smile spoke of sadness and Fabienne sensed her loneliness. She went into the kitchen. Mamie draped a cloth over the tap.