Page 37 of One More Betrayal

I stash the identity papers in the secret compartment of my handbag, load a satchel with some food, and return to the barn. I move the bales of straw from the trapdoor.

“It’s me. Angelique,” I say somewhat hurriedly, my pitch low, and pull open the door.

Oskar and Margrit peer up at me from the floor where they’re seated. Oskar’s arm is around her shoulder in comfort. It’s not comfort offered in fear; it’s based on love.

“What is wrong?” Oskar’s eyes are wide in alarm, his voice a concerned whisper.

I descend the ladder and crouch in front of them. “I’m here to help you escape out of France.”

His features pinch into a frown. “What do you mean?”

Sonja begins to stir, and her eyes slowly blink open.

The less she knows, the better. War and what she has been through has robbed her of her childhood, but she still possesses the innocence that could be dangerous if she repeats something she overheard us say. “We should talk in private,” I tell him.

Oskar follows me up the ladder. Margrit stays with their daughter.

I lead him over to the far side of the barn, past the old tractor that sits forgotten due to the lack of petrol to run it. We stop at the hay bales piled near the far wall, the amount barely enough to get the horses through the next few months.

Rays of the early morning sun stream through gaps in the wooden walls. Dust motes dance in the pale warmth.

“I realise you don’t know me well enough to trust me, and there is a lot I can’t tell you,” I say, keeping the volume of my voice to little more than a whisper. “It’s not safe for me to reveal everything to you. It’s dangerous for you to know, and it’s dangerous for me to tell you. Too much is at stake.”

The frown returns to his face. “I don’t understand.”

“I have connections that can get you and your family to safety and far from Hitler and his regime. It won’t be easy. Every step of the way will be dangerous, for you, for Margrit, for Sonja. But it’s the only way to get you as far away from the Nazis as possible.”

“Does Johann know?”

“I have not told him the plan. He’s a German soldier with an allegiance to Hitler…”

Oskar vigorously shakes his head. “He’s not—”

“I know he doesn’t like the man. But Johann is still a German soldier. It will be equally dangerous for him if he learns the truth about me. His commanding officer would like nothing more than to make an example of him if he ever discovered the truth about you and your family and about Johann’s sister. Like he made an example out of Dieter’s desertion.” My words come out swift, my desperation for him to see reason fuelling them.

“I am to take you and your family to Dijon,” I explain. “My connection there will help you and your family get to Lisbon. From there, you will board a ship that will take you to safety, but I can’t tell you more than that.”

Oskar studies me, uncertainty showing in the wary lines around his eyes. I cannot say I blame him. If our places were reversed, I would feel the same way.

“We should wait for Johann’s return.” Determination and bloody stubbornness hang on his tone and make me want to stomp my foot. Stomp my foot and shake some sense into him.

“It’s too dangerous for him to know about this,” I point out. “He’s a German soldier. An enemy to France. An enemy to the Jewish people. I’ve seen the roundups of Jews in Paris. There’s a reason Johann is desperate to hide you and your family.”

“But Johann is a good man. He is not like the rest of them. No, I think we should wait for him to return. I’m positive he will go with us. He has always talked about one day living in America. Perhaps then he will follow his dream of going there.”

I can see why Oskar was a lawyer before Hitler took that away from him.

But I can be equally persuasive. I’ve learned that skill from being the daughter of a diplomat and from working at a law firm. “He won’t go anywhere as long as he believes staying in the Army is the only way to protect his mother and sister.”

Oskar’s sigh is heavy with frustration and sadness and the weight of the world with Hitler in it. “He still clings to hope they’re alive. It’s the only thing that keeps him going. Otherwise, I know he would have deserted the Army with Dieter.” His voice splinters with grief on his friend’s name.

“Is it true his sister is deaf?”

“It is. Prior to my family and I escaping to France, I heard rumours Austria wasn’t safe if you were disabled. Disabled children were required to report to special medical centres. Operations were being performed to sterilise them. Other disabled children went missing or were reported dead. At the time, all of this was nothing more than rumours, ghost stories. But if those rumours were true, what did that mean for Jews? Hitler had no use for us either.”

“Do you think his mother and sister are still alive?”

“I pray they are. But no matter where they went and no matter what happened to them, Johann will never give up hope they are both alive. He would do anything to keep his mother and sister safe.”

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