She had spent several hours pulling shocked and frightened people from the water. Most had needed no more help than that, and were soon on their way, heading up the stairs in search of sustenance and dry clothes. She reeled in the first few corpses that drifted by, but they appeared at such distressingly frequent intervals that she started letting them go. Most were children, and she ached at the thought that Rosa could well have been one of them.
Back in the shelter the SS presence seemed even more foreboding. The glint of guns was everywhere, and the children were all in Hitlerjugend uniforms. They found Annaliese in their old room, writing out a note. 'Thank God you're safe,' she said when she saw them. 'Where on earth have you been?'
As Effi told their story, she noticed the bruises on her friend's face and arms.
'I fell on the stairs,' Annaliese explained. 'Others were not so lucky,' she added. 'At least one child was trampled. It was insane.' She grimaced. 'I say that, and I was as bad as all the others.' She managed a rueful smile. 'I assumed you were right behind me. Anyway, I've given up on Spandau. There's a last transport leaving for the Zoo Bunker when it gets dark, so I thought I might as well join it. Why don't you come?'
'Okay,' Effi said without hesitation. The bunker at the Zoo towers might be terrible, but it could hardly be worse than this.
They spent the next couple of hours in a room close to the entrance. The shelter was less crowded than it had been – many long-term residents had concluded that the outside world, with all its Russian shells and soldiers, offered a better chance of survival than a last-ditch SS fortress. And if Effi was not mistaken, some of the SS felt the same. As she and Rosa waited to leave, several young supermen stopped to stroke the girl's hair and wish them good luck, tears in their pure blue eyes.
The transport was late arriving, and it was almost nine when the call came to climb the stairs. Effi hadn't breathed any outside air for several days, and the stars sprinkled above the shelter entrance gave her reason to smile. Potsdamerplatz, by contrast, was a wilderness of rubble. Since their vigil earlier in the week, the last facades had been torn away, and what remained bore an eerie resemblance to an ancient ring of stones.
Their lorry was pumping dark exhaust, its tailgate lowered to allow them aboard. There were fifteen of them, mostly medical staff that Effi recognised, with only a couple of hangers-on. Most seemed in high spirits, as if they were heading off on an adventure, rather than driving through shell-fire to another bastion of useless resistance.
In fact, there seemed to be a lull in the shelling. As they drove south on Potsdamer Strasse a full moon rose through the ruins behind them, and the city seemed more at peace than it had for weeks. They rattled over the hump-backed Potsdamer Bridge and turned right along the southern bank of the Landwehrkanal. Through the open back of the lorry Effi saw moonlight dancing on the gently rippling water, and the sudden eruption of flames from a building on the north bank. Another explosion followed, this one further back.
The lorry's engine started to cough. It limped on a few more metres and then suddenly jerked to a halt.
The driver was still fending off complaints when shells began landing all around them. Everyone scrambled out of the lorry, most seeking cover between the wheels. Others crammed themselves into the nearest convenient doorway, leaving Effi, Annaliese and Rosa running for the shelter of an alley. They had only just reached it when a shell exploded behind them with an enormous 'whumpf', and hurried them on like a strong gust of wind. Effi turned to see another building ablaze on the far side of the canal, and a shell explode in the shallow water, sending up a huge spout for the moon to burnish. A shower of drops landed all around them.
'Let's find somewhere better,' Annaliese insisted, already on her way. Effi went after her, Rosa's hand held tight in her own.
Another shell landed behind them, and this time there were human screams as well. The entrance to the alley was a wall of flames.
They emerged into a small and apparently deserted mews. A garage with open doors looked inviting, but offered no real protection. They hurried on down the narrow street, Effi conscious that they were heading south, and probably towards the Russians. The shell-fire seemed to have stopped, and she was wondering whether they should walk back towards the canal, or at least look for a road leading west, when she saw the car peeking out of its garage.
It was a black Hanomag, like the one that John had owned, the one in which he'd taught her to drive. She told Annaliese to wait, put down the suitcase, and went to inspect it. It had diplomatic plates, which was hardly surprising in an area known for its embassies.
'You don't suppose it has any petrol?' Annaliese asked at her shoulder.
'We have no key,' Effi reminded her. Squeezing in alongside the driver's door, she lowered the handle. It opened, but there the miracles ceased. There was nothing in the ignition.
Effi's face fell, but Annaliese was smiling. 'Gerd was a mechanic,' she said impatiently. 'I can start a car without a key if there's any fuel in its tank. Here are some matches. Have a look at the gauge.'
Effi struck one, and tried to make sense of the instruments. 'There might be some,' she said hesitantly.
'Well, get out of there and let me have a go.'
Effi did as she was told, and waited with Rosa outside the garage. 'Can we just take a car?' Rosa asked doubtfully.
'As long as we bring it back,' Effi reassured her. She had almost given up on Annaliese's promise when the car's engine sprang noisily to life. There was a grinding of gears, and it inched forward out of the garage, a beaming Annaliese at the wheel. 'Your taxi, Madam!'
Effi climbed in beside her, Rosa in the back.
'Where shall we go?' Annaliese asked.
'I'd like to go home,' Effi said.
'Me too,' Rosa agreed from the rear.
'And you can stay with us until it's over,' Effi suggested to Annaliese.
'I'll think about it. I might just drive on to Spandau once I've delivered you two. If that's all right with you. You found the car.'
'You're welcome to it.'
They drove slowly down the mews, turned right at the end, and soon found themselves on Lutzow Strasse. Two military lorries went by in the opposite direction, but the once-busy avenue was otherwise empty of traffic. The moonlight was strong enough to steer by, and Annaliese turned off the lights. Driving round Lutzowplatz she struck two pieces of rubble in quick succession, which shook everyone up but failed to slow the Hanomag.
It was ten in the evening but felt like four in the morning. Distant explosions flared in the wing mirrors but the world ahead seemed fast asleep. They arced round the ruined Memorial Church and under the railway bridge on Hardenberg Strasse. There was a barricade up ahead, so at Effi's suggestion Annaliese took a tight left turn and drove back down to Kant Strasse. A right fork at Savignyplatz brought them onto Grolman Strasse, which was just about passable.
'Our place is just round the corner,' Effi said hopefully, as they passed the ruins of the Schiller Theatre. If Grolman Strasse was anything to go by, the area had taken a pasting in her absence.
Annaliese stopped the car a prudent few metres short of the intersection, and examined the petrol gauge by the light of a struck match. It had risen slightly. 'I'll keep going,' she decided. 'It can't be much more than five kilometres from here, and Gerd's family could probably do with some help – they're quite old. And if they don't I can try and reach the Americans.'
The two women embraced, and Effi got out. Rosa primly reminded Annaliese that she had to take the car back once the war was over, and looked somewhat put out when the nurse just laughed.
She inched the car round the corner and, once reassured, accelerated out of sight.
Effi and Rosa followed. Bismarck Strasse had suffered fewer recent depredations than Grolman, and their building was still standing. This was reassuring, even though life was now lived in the shelter. Descending the steps, the first person they met was Frau Pflipsen, happily puffing on a Turkish cigarette. 'Where have you been?' she asked. 'Your brother's been here since yesterday.'
'My brother?' Effi echoed. 'Which one?' she improvised. 'I have so many.'
'I don't know. He's upstairs in your flat, I think. I've told him several times what a risk he's taking, but he doesn't seem to appreciate the danger. I don't suppose they've had much bombing in Beeskow.'
