Page 68 of Love in the Shadows

“If we are caught…”

Fabienne put her fingertip to Johanna’s lips. There had been enough talk of death, and every action came with increasing risk these days. But Fabienne hadn’t wanted Johanna to be alone, and she was confident that no one would suspect she was here. “I locked the door. I will climb out of the window if anyone wants to come in. And I will leave before sunrise.” She stroked Johanna’s cheek. “Do you want me to go?”

Johanna shook her head. She fell back against the pillow, and Fabienne tucked the covers up around her.

Fabienne lay next to her on top of the bed, put her arm around Johanna’s waist and spooned her. She kissed Johanna’s head, inhaled the scent of her. “I love you,” she whispered. It was the second time she’d said the words this evening, only this time Johanna sighed and held Fabienne’s arm close to her as if clinging to a comforter.

Fabienne lay awake, tuned in to the sounds inside the house, listening for anything that indicated a problem might be heading their way. Silence endured until Johanna fell into a deep sleep and relaxed her hold.

Fabienne fell asleep and woke with a start, her heart pounding. The house was quiet, it was still dark outside, and it was early enough that the kommandant wouldn’t be heading out to work, and before Nanny or Schmidt stirred.

She slipped away from Johanna, unlocked the door, and checked along the corridor. She walked with her head held high. If anyone spotted her, she would say she had started work early to catch up with the spring cleaning. If she wasn’t in Johanna’s room, she couldn’t be accused of anything.

As she approached the cottage, she heard the first chirps of birdsong. It was going to be a long day before the children arrived. Mamie would have questions about Johanna that Fabienne didn’t want to answer. In truth, she didn’t know how to respond. She was in love with a German woman who would be obliged to return to Germany after the war.

What more was there to say?

28.

JOHANNA’S HAND TREMBLED AS she lit a cigarette. She inhaled deeply as she stood at the piano and stared with sore eyes at the photo of Ralf that seemed blurred. She had no recollection of Fabienne leaving her bed, but she desperately wanted to see her. Around Fabienne, she felt protected and understood.

“Guten morgen, Frau Neumann,” Nanny said as she entered the living room. She came to Johanna, her expression filled with remorse. “I am so sorry to hear about Ralf.” She opened her arms and took Johanna into her embrace.

Johanna tensed. These weren’t the arms that comforted her. They might have once, as a young child, but not anymore.

Nanny released her and stepped back, clasped her hands together in front of her body. “No mother should have to experience this,” she said.

Too many mothers were getting the same news every day. It wasn’t just a nightmare that you could wake up from, it was the reality they all had to learn to live with.

“I would rather Astrid didn’t find out just yet. It’s not the right time.”

Johanna took a draw on the cigarette. Astrid and Ralf hadn’t been close, with him leaving home when she was a toddler and having hardly seen him in the years since, but that wasn’t the reason she wanted to keep the news from her daughter. Astrid had started to settle at the house, to be less fearful of being outside, and Johanna didn’t want to resurrect the idea that they might not be safe here.

“Of course.” Nanny studied Johanna with a deepening frown, as if she had more to say but didn’t know how to start.

“Is there anything else, Nanny?” She stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and started through to the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there a reason we are storing so much food in the cellar?”

Johanna felt like a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

“Are we expecting...trouble, Frau Neumann?”

Johanna took a cup from the cupboard. She couldn’t make out whether Nanny was genuinely concerned or fishing for information. “I didn’t want to run short for when the kommandant has to host the next dinner.”

“Hmm.” Nanny fiddled with the collar of her dress as if it was irritating her. “I have noticed that Astrid is fraternising with the French child from the cottage.”

Johanna had expected a comment like that from Nanny, but she wasn’t going to be bullied into forcing her daughter to hide when she should be playing with friends of her own age. What neither her husband nor the officers around her seemed to care about was that the Frenchwomen – along with many other French citizens, Johanna was sure – were good people. They were just trying their best to survive.

Johanna wouldn’t fault them for that, any more than she would do any less if she were in their position. “She has played with Nancy a few times, yes. They are children, Nanny, and children need to play.” She filled the cup with coffee.

Nanny cleared her throat. “Yes, I do understand.”

Johanna hadn’t expected Nanny to back down without an argument, and turned to look at her.

“May I be honest, Frau Neumann?” Nanny’s flustered appearance made Johanna more than a little nervous.

“Yes.”

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