“I don’t want you to go.”
“I must my love. If I tried to remain I would be branded a coward.”
They both sat up on the bed. She took his hand in her hers.
“I love you Hans.”
“I love you too Elsa.”
“Promise me you’ll take good care of yourself.”
“You know I will.”
He got up and began to get dressed.
“I must be going.”
“Can you not stay the night.”
“I can’t my love. I must pack. I leave tomorrow or the day after. I don’t know.”
She watched him get dressed. Her little Hans. He crossed the room to her and kissed her. Then he pulled away and went for the door.
“Marry me,” she suddenly blurted out.
His hand was on the door knob poised. He let it go.
“You’re already married.”
“My father is a lawyer and a member of the Nazi party. He could arrange a quick divorce for me. I have money. We could try to get to Switzerland together. You need not….”
He grabbed her arms and pinned her against him to shut her up. She was crying now.
“My love there is not enough time. It would never work.”
She was nodding trying to convince herself.
“Elsa!” he snapped.
She looked up at him.
“I promise on my return that we will work out a plan for us.”
He kissed her goodbye once again at the door. She opening it only a fraction because she was semi nude. On the floor below another door creaked open slightly. An old woman’s face peering up the stairs.
Elsa closed the door quietly behind her after Koenig had disappeared around the first corner of the stairs. He went down to the next level two steps at a time and noticed a door slightly ajar. There was someone there, he could see. The door opened a crack more and he could see wrinkled cheeks.
“Good evening mother,” he called out to the unknown person just out of friendliness. Berliners these days were afraid of the sound of footsteps on their stairs.
“Heil Hitler,” the voice called out.
“Heil Hitler, “ he replied.
The door closed but not completely.
Down at the main entrance to the apartment block Koenig put his hat on, adjusted it to the angle he liked and going outside he almost collided with another man coming in.
“Sorry, Sorry,” Koenig said and as he moved back he looked at the other man. He was an SS Major.
They both saluted and Koenig left. The other officer having not spoken a word. Once outside Koenig looked back. The other man was just staring.
’The arrogance of the SS’
Elsa was retouching her make up when there was a knock at the door. She quickly threw a nylon chemise over her shoulders and ran happily to answer, laughing to herself.
“Silly Hans. He was always leaving things behind.”
She swung the door wide open.
“What have you forgotten this time….?”
She stopped dead in her tracks. It was her husband.
“Otto,” she said genuinely surprised, hoping to cover the slip.
“Forgotten?” he asked “who did you think it would be?”
“Otto you’re home.”
She ran back inside leaving him to close the door. He looked around their apartment. He hadn’t been home in weeks. She was back at her dressing table humming to herself with a pretended happiness.
“Elsa,” he called, a dangerous tone to his voice.
She was about to brush her hair but stopped. She looked at him through the mirror. She was afraid of him. He was known to lose his temper in an instant and lash out in an instant.
“Elsa,“ he called again.
She turned to face him keeping her eyes low, avoiding his face.
“I asked you who you thought I was.”
“I thought you were Mrs Drescher from the flat below.”
“The old hag shouted Heil Hitler to me as I passed her door.”
“She’s not an old hag.”
“Always poking her nose out of the crack in the door as folk are passing, nosey old bag.”
“She’s very sweet. I sometimes invite her up for tea and a cake. She’s very nice.”
Otto Wurz went over to the drinks cabinet and found a decanter of brandy and a glass.
“Do you want a drink?”
“No.”
He poured himself one. He had been drinking all of the previous night where he had been playing cards with friends. He emptied the brandy in one gulp and poured another. Elsa watched him nervously in the mirror as she continued to brush her hair.
“Nosey old hag….” he said again, most of his anger fuelled by the alcohol, aimed at the old lady who lived below.
“Mrs Drescher is a dear old lady. Did you know her son died in the first world war?”
“Pity she hadn’t gone too!”
“Otto that’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Well it’s true,” he pointed his index finger of the hand holding the glass, “you’ll see. Adolf Hitler has said that there is no room for people like her in our society. If only she was Jewish,” Otto said the drink taking him now. Elsa was afraid but didn’t show it. Now he was unpredictable.
“You’ve got her wrong. She’s just a sweet old lady who would never wish anyone any harm….”
He rounded on her.
“Why are you defending her? Has the old witch put a spell on you or something? Or maybe she’s the devil!”
“Otto, please, I don’t want to fight,” she kissed him on the cheek “It’s good that you’re home. I’ll get dressed and we can go out.”
He simmered slightly.
“You looked like you were just going out when I arrived or you were going downstairs for a tea party perhaps.”
“Never mind her. Take me shopping Otto.”
“Haven’t you got enough clothes?” he asked her poking about in the wardrobes.
“A girl can never have enough.”
She disappeared into the bathroom again. He noticed the new stockings that Koenig had bought her half in and half out of a drawer. He picked one up and sniffed it.
“These are new,” he called out to her “and expensive.”
She came out of the bathroom to see him holding her stockings.
“What are you doing with those?”
“They’re new.”
“Yes.“
She took them from him and stuffed them into the drawer.
“How can you afford those?”
She slammed the drawer shut with irritation.
“My father gives me an allowance every month.”
“Your father?”
“Yes because you’re never here to support me. You’re always away with your friends and never home.”
He felt himself getting angry again and he crossed the room to her like lightning.
“That’s because I’m working hard for us.”
She came back at him now wanting the fight.
“Working hard?” she scoffed “that’s a joke. All you do is….”
“Shut up Elsa before you say something you may regret.”
It worked. There was a history of violence in their relationship. She always being on the receiving end. The last time he had hit her he had given her a black eye. She had packed her bags and moved to her parents. After four days he had begged her to come back promising to change.
“Or what?” she said “you’ll hit me again.”
“I’ve said a hundred times that I’m sorry.”
She smiled and blew him a kiss.
“I know you have.”
He was about to lay on the bed when he noticed his photographs.
“Why are my pictures facing the other way?”
Back in the bathroom Elsa cussed herself for not having put them right after Koenig had left. She sat on the toilet and tried to sound calm.
“Because if Mrs Drescher sees them it upsets her. Apparently you looked a lot like her son.