free with every head shake. He held his audience in thrall and, at the end, all the guests raised their right arms in straight-armed salutes. Taking a deep breath he expanded his arms out in welcome and the assembly sat down to the meal. Diana was in raptures at the table and whispered into Eva’s ear like a breathless schoolgirl, ‘Please, please, Eva, come with us. Berlin is so beautiful, Adolf has done such wonders to the city. He has shown Oswald and me his plans for the New Berlin he plans to build. Really, really quite breath-taking,’
She studied Eva, a truly beautiful young woman and clearly in thrall to her older, handsome, blind companion. Eva had approached her weeks earlier asking to photograph her for a Dutch periodical. She had driven to Wooten Lodge through the rolling, beautiful countryside of Staffordshire and Diana had met her at the doorway personally. Eva glanced around at the tasteful furnishings and followed Diana into the drawing room.
Eva got the impression this frail girl spent a lot of time alone. Diana had warmed to her instantly, making her feel comfortable and remarked that she was surprised such a beautiful woman hadn’t tried for the movies. With a blush, Eva had confided she had been studying for theatre and had toured Europe and was trying to break into the German film industry.
She had sent her portrait photo and resume to Dr Joseph Goebbels in Berlin, reading that he was planning to establish a European film industry to match Hollywood. He had screen-tested her a few years earlier and her resume was ‘on file’.
The magazine shoot had gone well and in the process Eva and Diana had developed a friendship.
‘Leave it to me, dear. I’ll get Unity to talk to Adolf. They’re very close,’ She leaned in toward her, patting her knee. ‘You belong on the silver screen, Miss Molenaar.’
Eva noted that Diana clipped the vowels in her name short. It sounded like ‘Milner.’ Eva decided she would use that as a pseudonym at some later stage.
Diana became a dedicated pen pal, sending letters to Eva regularly, the address a PO Box set up by M15 and B5b section. Once her letters were reviewed by Chainbridge, Eva would reply and would, where possible, slip in a direct query as to Oswald’s whereabouts and plans. Diana knew she was being monitored, so little or no new information ever featured in her replies.
Eva felt guilty using Diana like this. She was drawn to the eccentric girl and found her fun to be around. Being an only child, Eva sometimes found it hard to build friendships, especially with women. Those who weren’t intimidated by her beauty could be counted on one hand.
She watched the Mitfords with a hint of envy. She would have loved to have had a sister, be part of a big family. In time she vowed she would have one of her own as she watched the Mitfords laughing at a private joke.
Eva realised at that point she was lonely. Suddenly she wanted to flee home, a growing feeling she couldn’t shake.
The banquet finished with Mosley and his men standing to attention, straight arm saluting and singing ‘God Save the King’ at the top of their lungs.
To Eva and De Witte it meant nothing; they had seen this scene across Europe. Diana was singing the loudest with tears in her eyes. Her sister Unity ran up to her and they hugged and cried together. Wiping away the tears, they turned to Eva and pleaded with her to fly to Berlin.
Amid the chants and shouts and belligerent songs Eva told them she would. The two girls posed for a photograph for Eva, two shimmering beauties amid the sea of black, red, white and blue.
Once she had the photographs she needed, Eva left, driving the car assigned to her and De Witte, handing the camera directly to Chainbridge’s chambers for processing.
They flew into Berlin on a private charter funded by the BUF. Mosley sat a few rows ahead, flanked by his bodyguards, two beefy, shaven-headed Blackshirts. They stared straight ahead mutely while Mosley was reading the Financial Times, enjoying a brandy and a cigar. He was dressed in an immaculately cut black Saville Row herringbone double-breasted suit, French tailored shirt and patent leather shoes. In profile he resembled a hawk, with the same merciless eyes skimming the rise and fall of the money markets.
The three women had gone shopping for the visit two days earlier. Eva had enjoyed the whirl of dress shops, shoe shops and restaurants, and had to admit she got swept up in thrill of flying with such wonderful companions.
They were chauffeur driven through London and, as the streets glided past, Eva noted that sand bags had started appearing at the doorways and windows of certain government buildings.
Being in the company of the Mitford sisters, Eva got to see a world beyond her wildest dreams. First to Harrods, with fawning shop assistants and sections of the store closed off for their personal use. Then Oxford Street boutiques presenting them with haut couture gowns, day wear and evening wear, and offers to alter their creations for Eva and the Mitfords.
Trays of champagne and canapes were given to them between showings, whether or not they wished to purchase anything. Every sales assistant told Eva her figure was perfect for modelling and the Mitfords admitted they were jealous of her elegant build. Eva replied that she just wanted to be taken seriously as a photographer, and was envious of their gamine shape. Clothes seemed to hang much better on them.
Despite her protests, Diana wanted to buy Eva a shimmering silver evening dress as a gift, arguing the party they were going to was one of the biggest ever held in Germany.
Eva looked at her reflection in the dressing room. The gown was cut deep at the back, just stopping above her hips. The front wasn’t cut as deep, but flattered the shape of her cleavage. The gloves had a matt silver look to them and Eva stopped Diana buying her accompanying jewellery, insisting she had complimentary accessories.
Eva had inherited a small fortune after her parents had been killed which she had transferred out of Poland to London on Chainbridge’s advice. She insisted on paying for the dress and gloves. After a lot of persuasion, she accepted a clutch bag as a gift. Eva put her hair up and looked at her profile. The gown was exquisite, flattering her figure. She stepped out of the dressing room for the girls. They gasped and applauded with warm smiles and tilted champagne glasses.
‘Why, dear, you could have your pick of the men if you wanted,’ observed Unity, curious that Eva was enthralled with a much older blind man, albeit a handsome one, who was clearly much less enamoured of the Fascist cause than Eva was. In Unity’s free hand dangled a pair of silver strap-up shoes with a modest heel. They complemented the dress perfectly.
Driving back through London where the chauffeur was going to bring her home, they asked Eva had she travelled much. She replied her work took her all around Europe, mostly freelance articles focusing on the rich and famous and their lifestyle. She then told them about her recent personal meeting with General Franco.
They offered to arrange an interview with Hitler for her magazine. He was very agreeable around pretty girls, Diana said, nudging Unity with a grin.
Diana spoke at length about the ‘Strength through Joy’ cruise she had taken last year with Eva Braun, Hitler’s mistress. It was a pet project of Hitler, and Diana and Oswald had been privileged to have been invited on the maiden voyage along with high ranking members of the Nazi party
They had sailed around the Norwegian fjords, meeting their Aryan brothers and sisters. On board, the Propaganda Ministry had recorded the scenes in colour film to show across the cinemas of Germany, representing the Nordic countries as mountainous Aryan paradises.
The voyage had been a propaganda success and there was another voyage being planned. Eva was invited to join the sisters as their special guest and perhaps run a feature in one of the magazines she worked for.
Now they were descending through the clouds into the city that had driven her out five years ago, a city run by a maniac and his henchmen. The night before they had departed, she had dreamed of Jonas, not uncommon, but this time more realistic.
She was in the morgue again, looking for him. She could hear him calling out to her from beneath the shrouds and she was pulling the sheets off to find him. Beneath every sheet removed was someone she knew; Papa, Mamma, Grampy and Aga, then Theo, Dariusz, De Witte — which disturbed her — and eventually she uncovered Jonas.
He was, as she remembered; dead, bloodied and broken, still on the gurney, but now dressed in a German Army uniform. Then suddenly his eyes opened wide, staring right at her, through her, his ruined mouth trying to talk.
She woke in a sweat, screaming.
