Chapter 14

Chapter 14

“Y

ou look like a true German,” Ursula said when Tom stepped out of his room dressed in Andreas’ clothes.

“I could fool anyone, right?” He grinned and rose to his full, impressive height of six-one.

“As long as you don’t open your mouth,” Ursula giggled nervously.

Tom put on a mock offended face. “You want to imply my German is bad? That’s not nice.”

“Well, your German is surprisingly good, but your accent…” She imitated the peculiar way he pronounced the German words and giggled again. Her nerves were strung tight. Soon, the most dangerous part yet would begin, actually walking outside on the streets with him.

She handed him the black soutane, praying nobody would question the disguise. Then they waited together until the blaring radio from the apartment next door faded. Ursula could barely tolerate the rising tension as she listened intently for a sound.

“Frau Weber has gone to bed,” she finally said. “Let’s go.”

Tom looked at her and must have noticed her trembling, because he took her hands into his. “Everything will be fine.”

She nodded in silence and motioned for him to follow her. They snuck out of the apartment and scurried down the stairs like ephemeral ghosts. It was way past ten p.m., and the street lay empty in the dark, lit only by the dim moonlight.

Ursula knew the path to the allotments by heart, had walked the two miles thousands of times in her childhood, but never at night. After the Great War, Ursula’s parents had applied for one of the allotments that sprang up throughout the city. Her mother had carefully tended the earth to grow some produce, but between household chores and work, Ursula and Anna had neglected the place and only worked the minimum to keep the fruit trees and bushes alive.

Tom fell in step beside her, following her lead without uttering a single word. They had almost reached the turnoff to the footpath into the allotments when her blood froze at the sound of a voice.

“

Guten Abend, junge Frau

.”

Ursula spun around to look into the faces of two young officers clad in the black SS uniform. Her palms instantly became sweaty.

“Papers please,” one of the SS men said. Both were sporting mustaches and couldn’t be much older than twenty-five. Their guns poked out of their waistbands as if itching to be used. Ursula’s heart was drumming so hard, she expected to hear it echo off the buildings surrounding them.

“Of course, one moment please,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice stable. The officers stood waiting, one smoking a cigarette as Ursula reached into her handbag for her identification papers. Every time the man raised the tip of the cigarette to his lips, it made a gentle sucking noise, followed by a deep and slow exhalation. The distinct smell of nicotine wafted into her nostrils, subduing the smell of fear – a fear most everyone sensed when being confronted by the SS.

Ursula handed him her papers, waiting with bated breath. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Tom tense. By now, she knew him well enough to know that beneath the priest’s soutane, every single muscle had tightened, and he was alert like a panther on the prowl.

“It’s rather late for such a beautiful woman to be out and about,” the first one said with a charming grin.

“Yes, sir,” she answered and caught a glimpse of Tom’s scowling face.

“Can we escort you somewhere?” the young man asked, obviously attempting to flirt with her.

“Thank you, sir, I will be fine…” She followed the glance of the second officer over to Tom wearing the priest’s habit. “My mother-in-law is in dire health, and I called for the priest to visit her.”

It may not have been the wisest thing to say, but she hadn’t been able to come up with a better explanation. Tom furrowed his brow in sorrow and raised his hand to the cross around his neck, murmuring some unintelligible words that sounded like a Latin prayer.

“Well, under these circumstances, Frau…” the SS man looked at her papers again, “…Hermann, we won’t bother you further.” He returned her papers and stepped back. “God bless you, Father.”

As the SS officers walked away, Ursula staggered with a sudden wave of dizziness and Tom caught her arm.

“I almost died of fear,” she admitted. “If they’d asked for your papers, it would have been over.”

“Not without a fight,” he said and held her elbow tighter. “But you’re right, we were lucky. Come on, it’s not safe here. We should get off the street or risk running into another patrol.”

A few hundred yards down, they turned onto a gravel path to the allotment garden complex. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and the increased darkness made orientation difficult.

“Watch your step,” she whispered, “there’s lots of weeds and roots covering the path.”

During day the allotment area was like a huge patchwork quilt of deep browns and vibrant greens, made up of vegetable patches with small huts and sheds. She stopped in front of a wooden gate, taller than the height of a full-grown man, flanked by equally high Thuja hedges.

“This is your new home,” she whispered with a grand gesture while she unlocked the gate and handed him the spare key.

“Smashing, and as impenetrable as Sleeping Beauty’s hedge.” Tom cast her a teasing grin.

As Ursula closed the gate again, a rusty squeak cut through the night, and she froze, listening to the darkness. Only when no sound was heard except for a barking dog in the distance did she dare breathe again. She motioned for Tom to follow her and crossed the small garden. In ten steps, they passed the water well and came to stand in front of the wooden shed, just as the moon peeked out from behind the dark cloud. The wood was worn, and moss grew up the sides, making it seem a part of the nature surrounding it.

Tom quietly stepped on the porch while she unlocked the door. His nearness made her ill at ease, and she dropped the key, but in one swift move, he caught it before it could drop to the ground with a clang. Then he unlocked the padlock and opened the door for Ursula to step inside. Now she really felt like

Dornröschen

in her castle.

“I’m afraid it’s not much,” Ursula apologized after lighting a kerosene lamp and carefully closing the door behind them. Despite the orders to evacuate the allotments after dark, one could never be sure there wasn’t a soul to listen – and possibly report.

“It’s about the same size as my cell, but at least I don’t have to share it with two other men and stare out the window at the execution chamber anymore.” He gave a sharp laugh, but Ursula didn’t find it so funny, the skin around her blue eyes creasing as she frowned. She wasn’t particularly religious, nor superstitious, but she did not think it sensible to blatantly tempt fate by mocking it.

“You can get water from the well and steal food from the soil at night. During the day, though, there’ll be a constant rotation of people passing by. They won’t be able to look inside, but nevertheless, you should stay inside the shed and make no noise.” She gave him a stern glance and checked that the blinds were tightly shut.

The shed was filled with watering cans and various gardening supplies, including a rickety table and two sun loungers that had seen better times. She rummaged through the pile of neatly folded cloths in one corner and found the cushions for the sun loungers as well as a set of old but clean towels and several tablecloths.

“That will have to do for your bed.” She knelt down to prepare his makeshift bed, but he grabbed her around her waist and gently forced her to stand up again.

“I can do that myself. You have done enough already.” His green eyes turned into deep pools as he continued, “I owe you my life, Ursula Hermann, and know this, there’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do for you should ever the need arise.”

His hands remained on her hips, burning a path through her clothes onto her skin and right into her heart. For a moment, she threw caution to the wind and pressed her body into Tom. After several days of nourishing food and normal rations, he’d gained weight, and even through his extensive layers of clothes, she noticed how his hard muscles now filled his big frame.

The urge to touch his rugged face became overwhelming, and she realized that her breath had quickened and her heart raced much too fast. She pushed her hands against his chest, frantic to get away.

“I have to go now. I’ll come back tomorrow night with some food. Remember, don’t leave the shed during the day.”

Then she sprinted to the gate as if the devil incarnate were behind her. Only when she’d locked the gate from the outside did she close her eyes and breathe a heavy sigh.