“There, there.” He patted her hand. “Just smile.”
She did as he said.
The door of the lodge swung open and strains of violins cut the wind. Inside, the doorman took her cape. Exposed to the lamplight, the crystal beads cast miniature rainbows against Josef’s uniform.
“Heil Hitler, Josef!” greeted a stocky man with a poof of a mustache above his lip, and the remnants of some sticky food caught in the sprout.
Elsie wondered what other bits might be lodged there and tried to hide her repulsion.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“May I present Fräulein Elsie Schmidt.” Josef clicked his heels. “And this is Major Günther Kremer of the SiPo.”
Elsie nodded. “A pleasure.”
Kremer turned to Josef. “Charming.” He winked.
“Günther and I have known each other for many years. He was one of my men in Munich. Is Frau Kremer here tonight?”
“Ja, ja. Somewhere.” He waved over his shoulder. “No doubt discussing her pewter spoons or some such nonsense. Shall we have a drink?”
Down a corridor lined with Nazi flags and fir trees covered in candied fruits, they followed Kremer as he chatted about the wine and food and glitterati in attendance. Elsie wasn’t listening, too caught up by the brilliance of the scene. It was everything she’d dreamed, exactly like the lavish ballrooms and festive parties in the Hollywood films of her youth. Her pulse raced. Oh, how she wanted this world: Josef’s world of power, prestige, and uncensored euphoria. It dripped off everyone and everything in the room, like fruit glaze on a strawberry tart. For this moment, the dust of the baking board and black cinders of the oven were forgotten; the smudge of labored coins and soiled ration coupons in her palm, washed clean. By Josef’s side, she could pretend to be one of them, a royal princess of the Third Reich. She could pretend the world outside this place wasn’t full of hunger and fear.
The corridor opened to the grand banquet hall. Long white tables striped the floor with silver candelabras at each fourth chair. A string quartet sat on a platform, their bows moving back and forth in perfect unison. Couples spun in slow circles on the dance floor like miniature figures on clock gears. The men wore SS uniforms, a background pattern of tan dress coats and beet red armbands. The women highlighted the scene in vibrant dress shades, plum and apricot, orange and cucumber green—a harvest of young and old.
A fleshy brunette in a scarlet lamé dress examined Elsie from head to toe, pausing at her feet. Elsie followed her gaze to the toe of Mutti’s T-strap. She quickly scooted it back under the hem. A waiter approached with a tray of bubbling blond flutes. Josef handed one to Elsie.
“Here you are. I always keep my word. But be careful. One never knows the effect of champagne until you’ve tried it.”
Champagne. Elsie’s mouth went wet. She’d only ever watched as screen stars sipped and grew giddy on the beverage. She hoped it would have the same magical effect now. She took a glass and marveled. She’d never known its color: light gold, like the wheat shafts just before cutting. She guessed it would be as sweet as honey and as filling as bread. She licked her lips and drank.
The tangy bubbles bit hard. Brüt dry. A mouthful of baking yeast bloomed in water. She gulped to keep from spitting back into the flute but was not quick enough to hide her expression.
Josef laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Try another sip and then another. If you don’t love it by the third, I’ll drink the rest for you.” Kremer chuckled. The buttons of his coat strained against his portly stomach.
Despite herself, Elsie recalled Mutti’s advice and forced a dainty laugh. He was Josef’s comrade, after all. She wanted him to like her. So she did as he instructed and drank again, attempting to finish the glass and be done entirely.
“Prost! It looks like you’ve got yourself a strong fräulein,” said Kremer. “How about a dance while Josef gets you another?”
Elsie held Josef’s gaze. “I’m not very good,” she said.
“No matter.” Kremer took Elsie by the elbow and led her to the dance floor. “I promise to go slow.” He pulled her close and placed one hand on the small of her back while clasping her gloved fingers. His stiff uniform pushed the dress’s crystals into her skin, a thousand nails tacking them together.
Elsie looked over her shoulder at Josef. He smiled and lifted her empty glass. When he turned to call the waiter, Kremer slid his hand down the back of her chiffon.
Elsie pulled away. Her cheeks flushed hot. “Herr Kremer!”
He grabbed her hand and yanked her forcefully against him. “Hush. It’s a party. Don’t cause a scene, fräulein.” He smiled a toothy grin and spun her deeper into the dancing crowd. “I wanted to speak with you privately. You see, there are those who find it odd that someone of Josef’s stature would take up with the uneducated daughter of a common baker when there are far superior options, including your own sister.”
She winced at his mention of her academic record. While Hazel had attended Gymnasium and graduated at the top of her class, Elsie had stopped early of graduation from Hauptschule to work full-time in the bakery. Though she’d just met Major Kremer, he obviously had great knowledge of her and her family.
“There are so many spies these days. Everyone suspects beautiful, new faces.” He leaned in and examined her face uncomfortably close, his hot breath like rotten eggs.
Elsie sharply turned her cheek. “My family has known Josef for years.”
“Ja, and who knows how many secrets you have already gathered to pass on to our enemies.”
“I am not a spy!” she hissed. “My papa bakes bread for the Nazi headquarters in Garmisch. My sister is in the Lebensborn Program.”
“I am not curious about them. I am curious about you.” He sucked his teeth.
They moved in circles on the floor. A woman with peacock feathers in her silver hair wriggled her nose when they bumped elbows. Elsie swallowed hard. Her head reeled. She was a loyal German, but how else could she prove her allegiance? All she had was her word.
Kremer’s uniform stank of sweat and cigarettes. Champagne bubbles came up her throat. She wanted to slap him, to cry out for Josef, but the sharp pins of Kremer’s Security Police uniform reminded her of the possible consequences, not just for herself but also for her family. So she gulped down the sourness.
The song ended. The quartet removed their bows from the strings, stood and bowed.
“Here you are, dear.”
Startled, Elsie jumped and knocked the glass from Josef’s hand; effervescent wine fizzed over them.
“I’m sorry.” She wiped droplets from his uniform lapels. The starch kept them from soaking in. Her dress was not so fortunate. The champagne streaked the ivory hemline.
“No harm.” Josef took her arm. “I know a cleaner who can get anything out with lye soap and a boar brush.” He kissed her hand.
“Thank you for the dance. It was a delight.” Kremer clicked his boots and left with a smirk.
The quartet leader came to the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would take a seat, we would like to begin our Weihnachten presentation.”
Josef led her to the middle of their banquet table. At the far end sat Kremer beside Frau Kremer, a dark twig of a woman with wan cheeks and a sharp nose. She caught Elsie’s stare and narrowed her eyes.