Gretchen put a restraining hand on Inge’s arm. “You wouldn’t last an hour out there on your own. Give me a couple of hours to find you somewhere.”
Gretchen went to Hans’s apartment and told him what had happened. Hans’s first reaction was a broad smile. “So there’s life in the old dog!”
“It’s no laughing matter,” said Gretchen. “Inge’s threatening to leave. She’s already packed her suitcase.”
“Where will she go?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t know. I told her I’d find her alternative accommodation in the next two hours.”
“You have somewhere in mind?”
“You live alone… I thought…”
“You thought you could put her in with me! How is that going to work?”
“It’s all I could think of. I never wanted to take her in the first place.”
Hans scratched his chin. “Two hours, you say? That doesn’t give us much time. Did you remind her that she’ll be leaving Berlin in a matter of days?”
“Yes. She’s adamant. She won’t spend another night in the apartment with Oskar.”
Hans gave a low whistle. He scratched his ear. “There’s only one solution I can suggest.”
“What?” said Gretchen. “I can’t think of any.”
39
Inge stuck out her chin. “Why do I have to move again? Why can’t you find the bedroom key?”
“I’m sorry, Inge, my mind’s a blank. I can’t remember where I put it.”
“I don’t like it. Every time I move, I risk being seen by the Gestapo or someone who’ll tell the Gestapo where I am.”
“I’ll take you there at night. We’ll wait until everyone is asleep.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Wait and see. It’s a surprise. It’s not far.”
Inge didn’t like surprises.
It wasn’t more than 500 meters, but the many obstacles blocking their way forced them to take a roundabout route through the golf course – or what was left of it. A brisk breeze from the East rummaged through their clothes, seeking out their thin bodies.
A pungent smell of damp and mold greeted them as they stepped inside the cabin. It was too dark to see Inge’s face, but her posture told Gretchen what she thought of the place.
“Try the armchair,” said Gretchen. “You may be able to get some sleep on there.”
“This is crazy. It’s nothing but a garden shed,” said Inge.
“It’s only for a few days. Try the chair.”
Inge sat down. The wind ran a finger along a wall, creating a thin gap in the slats that allowed a strip of moonlight in that lit up her blond hair.
“The cabinet is full of books. You might find something to read in there. And there’s probably some food in those sacks.” Gretchen opened two of the sacks. “Carrots in this one, onions and potatoes in that one.”
Inge wrapped her arms around her chest.
Gretchen pulled off her overcoat and tucked it around the child. “It’ll be a lot warmer when the sun gets up.”
Inge pulled the coat closer around her.
“You’ll need to stay out of sight and make no noise.” Gretchen tried the radio and it came on. Beethoven. “You can’t listen to the radio.” She reached up and removed the lightbulb. “And you can’t use the light.”
“How can I read without light?”
“There should be some moonlight.”
Inge waved her arms about. “You told me to stay away from the window.”
Gretchen ignored that. “What do you think? Can you live here for a week?”
“What if I need to…”
“There’s a bucket over there in the corner.”
There was no reaction to that.
“I’ll leave you so. I’ll have to use the padlock to lock the door. Nobody must suspect that you’re in here. Try to get some sleep. I’ll come by early in the morning.”
Inge waited half an hour after Gretchen had left before exploring her new prison. This one was cold and dark. It smelled of mold and damp soil, but there were no bats, and no creepy old men. She opened the bookcase to examine the books and found nothing of interest. She couldn’t put a light on anyway. She tried the door. It was firmly locked.
What if there’s a fire? How would I get out? she thought. Is this what my life is to be from now on? Locked in a cold, moldy shed with no light, unable to make a sound, with no friends and nothing to do but read musty old books.
She longed for a normal life, to walk the streets without fear, to breath fresh air and look at the sky, to ride a bicycle, to have friends and maybe even meet some boys. To grow up and marry someday.
Is that too much to ask?
40
As soon as Gretchen awoke in the morning she remembered where she’d left the bedroom key. She fished it out of her tin box on the kitchen shelf and hurried back to the allotment. Surrounded as it was on three sides by the blackened skeletons of tall buildings, the cratered golf course appeared like a ghostly scene from Hades. A light frost covered the fairways, picking up the beginnings of dawn light from the sky. There was nobody about.
Blowing on her hands to warm them, she opened the padlock and slipped inside.
Inge was fast asleep in the armchair, still wrapped in Gretchen’s overcoat. She looked like a child half her age, a small fist close to her face, thumb extended toward her mouth, her hair scattered around her head. Her book lay on the floor by the chair.
Gretchen shook her gently to wake her.
“What time is it?” said Inge, stretching her arms.
“It’s early. Did you get any sleep?”
“Not much. It’s freezing in here.”
“You can come back to the apartment if you like.”
Inge hesitated. “Is Oskar still there?”
Gretchen handed her the key. “Yes, but I found the key. You can use it to lock the bedroom door.”
Inge took the key and got to her feet. Gretchen wrapped the overcoat around her skinny shoulders, picked up the book and they headed out. Before they left, she replaced the padlock on the cabin door and locked it.
They hurried back across the golf course and through
