The city streets lay dark and still, and as the chatter inside the car petered out, Erik felt weariness envelop him. He remained alert by making mental notes of the route Axel took home, the landmarks illuminated faintly by the downward-slanted headlamps. At last they pulled into a narrow street and stopped before a substantial two-story house, which, in the dim glow, appeared similar to that of its neighbors. He only hoped that somewhere inside it had a bed made up and ready for him to collapse onto. He hadn’t eaten since early that morning, but exhaustion prevailed over all desire for food.
“This is it,” his new friend announced, dousing the lights and turning off the engine. “We live with our grandmother. I’ll open the boot so you can grab your bag, and Sis will introduce you while I dash upstairs and throw on some glad rags. I should’ve been at that party ages ago.”
Erik opened his door and climbed out, unable to discern any unique features in the dwelling since blackout shades shrouded every window along the street. He stepped to the rear of the vehicle and retrieved his duffel bag, then followed Annelise up the front steps. “You’re sure I won’t be imposing?”
“Not at all,” she said, turning the knob, her tone indicating she’d resigned herself to his presence. “Come on in. Grams is used to our showing up at odd hours with strangers.”
“At least she won’t have to hide you,” Axel said, bringing up the rear.
Hooking her coat onto the hall tree, Annelise shot him a stern look. “I do wish you’d stop plunging us headlong into your schemes. We can’t afford to draw such constant attention.”
“Point taken, sister dear.” He rolled his eyes and started down the entry hall for the staircase.
Annelise straightened her shoulders. “This way.” She moved toward the squared archway leading into the front room.
From a step behind, Erik assessed the well-appointed parlor with its fine upholstered furnishings and dark, gleaming woodwork. An assortment of framed watercolor seascapes adorned the walls. The plump sofa looked especially inviting to his travel-weary bones.
Then he noticed an older woman in black, seated in a padded rocking chair, peering up from a child’s sock she’d been darning. She had a pleasant enough face, and silvery hair drawn into a French roll gave a frail quality to her that reminded Erik of his favorite aunt. Her small blue eyes gazed over rimless reading glasses perched on her nose.
Annelise bent to kiss her parchmentlike cheek. “We have a guest, Grams. This is Erik Nielsen. The American military sent him to provide the exit visas we need so desperately. Erik, I’d like you to meet my grandmother, Margarethe Holberg.”
The woman set her work aside and began to rise.
“Please, don’t get up, Madam Holberg.” He touched her surprisingly firm shoulder. “I’m afraid I reek of the sea. But I’m most honored to make your acquaintance.”
“Thank you, young man.” Her speculative gaze took swift measure of him.
“We don’t even have to hide him,” Annelise added. “He can use the guest room. There’s one other thing I need to tell you, though.” She colored delicately. “We’re supposed to pretend Erik is my fiancé come to live with us.”
The woman’s shrewd eyes gravitated between her granddaughter and him, and her pursed lips flattened. “This, of course, would be Axel’s doing.”
Annelise nodded.
Her bosom rose and fell as she studied Erik. Then her nose crinkled. “Well, take the man upstairs and draw him a hot bath. He needn’t take his luggage along. It probably smells as bad as he does. We’ll wash everything up in the morning, make it all fresh.”
“Thank you kindly, madam.” Erik gave an appreciative tip of his head. His original impression of her had been way off the mark. For all her fragile appearance, she was deceptively strong. Even persuasive. “But I shouldn’t let my bag out of my sight. It contains my forging supplies and some rather … important … rag dolls.”
Nothing fazed the old gal. “Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe here, and so are your belongings. But this is my house, and I won’t tolerate the whole place stinking like the docks.”
He acquiesced. “As you wish.” His glance at Annelise caught the amusement on her face.
“And to pay for your lodging, you will make exit visas for our other guests.” Mrs. Holberg’s expression made it a statement of fact.
“Certainly. Once I finish those needed for a downed bomber crew, I’ll do the others. I believe your granddaughter mentioned there were two children here.”
“That is correct. How long do you expect it will take you to get to their papers?”
Her unwavering stare nettled him. “A week maybe. Two at the most. Then I’ll get right on them.”
“You’ll do them first,” she countered, arching her eyebrows. “Planes are being shot out of the sky every day, and adults can fend for themselves. At least temporarily. But we cannot keep youngsters hidden indefinitely. They’ve already been shuffled around too much, been exposed to atrocities no human, let alone a child, should witness. Their trust has been shattered. They live in constant fear of never seeing their parents alive again, and the poor dears think somehow they’re to blame. You’ll do their papers first, so at least a fraction of their childhood might be salvaged. Otherwise, you can find someplace else to stay.” She reached for her sewing supplies and resumed her chore.
Stunned by the woman’s declaration, Erik recognized dismissal when he saw it, and her threat was more than a little discomfiting. He looked to Annelise.
“Come on, Grams. We can’t put Erik out on the street after the Allies sent him to us. I’m sure he’ll do his very best for us and the cause.”
“Nevertheless,” she insisted, “I’ll do what I must. Army people think this war business is more important than anything else—this shooting at each other and anyone else who happens to get in the way. Well, these children are getting out of the way. This I say, and this I mean.” Setting down her work once again, she crossed her arms.
“Put like that, I can understand your feelings,” Erik admitted. “I’ll start on those visas first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll need to have their new names. Pictures, too, if you have any. You can fill me in on their ages and so forth.”
Annelise shook her head. “The underground hasn’t found anyone to take them to Sweden yet, so we don’t have names for them. Sorry.”
Perhaps it was the unwelcome news or the close confines. Maybe even a few too many hours without sleep. Erik’s head began to swim. He raked his hand through his hair and gave himself a mental shake, grasping at the first idea that came to mind. “What if one of the pilots pretends to be their father? A couple of kids would make good cover….”
“What?” The old woman poked her needle into the sock and dropped the darning egg. “I never heard of anything so daft! You’ll not risk those dear little children to rough soldiers who can’t even speak their language. Just get to work on those visas. I’ll find someone myself.” Muttering under her breath, she continued her work.
“I’m sure Axel will come up with somebody,” Annelise suggested. “There’s no reason for you to endanger yourself, Grams.”
“Hmph. After this latest brainstorm of Axel’s? I’d best take care of the wee ones. I’ve many trusted friends at the church. We’ll find someone willing to accompany them to safety.”
“Did I hear my name being bandied about?” Axel peeked through the archway in his crisp white shirt, bow tie, and dark slacks. His blond hair was freshly slicked back, and a dinner jacket lay over the crook of his arm. He quirked a smile at Erik. “Everything all set for you, old man?”
“Yes. Couldn’t be better.” Though spoken facetiously, Erik knew he’d stated the truth.
Annelise hurried to her brother’s side. “Be careful. Promise? And for once, please don’t do or say anything that will dig this hole any deeper.”
“Whatever you say, little sis.” A peck on her cheek, and he dashed off.
Mrs. Holberg frowned and sighed. “We’d better spend a good part of this night in prayer for that boy.” Then her cool gaze fastened on Erik. “I assume you are a praying man.”
“Yes, madam, I am.” But even if I wasn’t, I’d tell you I was. I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side.
“Good. I can’t abide heathens under my roof.”
Erik had to grin. For a lady he’d first considered small and defenseless, she sure had spunk. And he liked spunk. In fact, he liked her. He liked her a lot.
Annelise observed the banter between her grandmother and their new guest—whom anyone could see was dead on his feet—and admiration for the sailor-forger rose several notches. He was holding his own in the face of a woman many considered to be domineering and formidable. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad having him around for a while to keep Grams occupied.
Still, the man was a perfect stranger, and beguiling smiles were something Annelise would never be fooled by again. Even if the military bigwigs considered him trustworthy, he had yet to prove himself to her and her relatives. She’d best stay on her guard. “I’ll take you upstairs now,” she offered, maintaining a businesslike tone.
He nodded and bid her grandmother good evening, then followed Annelise to the staircase, where portraits bearing a strong resemblance to the family members he’d already met lined the walls.
Once they reached the top landing, she gestured to her right. “That will be your room as long as you’re here. Directly across the hall is the bathroom. You’ll find everything you need in the cupboard. I’ll bring some of my brother’s clothes for you to use till yours have been laundered. Leave your soiled things outside the door, and I’ll take them down to the cellar to wash.”
“Thank you … Annelise. I … hope you don’t mind my familiarity.”
She grimaced. “Why should I? It would appear we’re an item, thanks to my big-mouth brother.”
“Ah, yes.” He flashed a completely disarming grin.
It made Annelise conscious of her less-than-friendly manner. Realizing she’d been nearly as gruff as her grandmother to the poor man, she softened her tone. “Look, I know we’ve made things difficult for you, and I do apologize. We’re all working toward the same objective, and it would benefit the lot of us to be friends.”
He nodded. “I could live with that.”
“Good. Well, I know you’re tired. Hungry, too, I’d imagine. I’ll bring a tray to your room so you can have a bite to eat when you’ve finished. Is there anything else you might need tonight?”
“You’ve about covered everything for now. Tomorrow, though, we should get together and work on our … relationship. Since we’re engaged, we need to know a little about each other, decide when and where we met and all.”
She looked down. “Let’s wait for Axel to get home. No telling what story he fabricated for the Nazis this evening.”
“Good idea. Oh, one other thing. I had planned to visit my relatives in Sjaellands Point as soon as I can get away, to familiarize myself with the area. That part of my story needs to be kept straight, too.”
“Sounds wise.”
His lips spread into a knowing smile. “Of course, as my fiancée, you should probably come along and meet the folks….”
A maddening sense that things were spinning out of control jolted Annelise. For a fleeting moment, all she could think of was throttling her brother.
A ray of sunshine drifting through the edge of the drawn window shade warmed Annelise’s face. She opened an eye and checked her bedside clock, then bolted upright. Normally she awoke before daylight. Yesterday’s stress must have taken its toll. Wasting no time, she made quick work of her morning ablutions and dressed in a white blouse and navy skirt, then hastened for the stairs. Her devotions would have to wait.
Male voices drifted up from below. “The guys had to separate,” Axel said. “Only five made it to a safe house.”
“That’s not good news,” Erik answered. “Maybe a few others will—” He clammed up when Annelise entered the dining room.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, masking the irritation she felt over always being kept in the dark about everything.
“Well, well,” Axel teased. “If it isn’t Miss Punctuality. Your clock stop or something?”
She glowered at him. “You could have rapped on my door when you got up.” Even as she spoke, her gaze took in their freshly shaved guest. Axel’s checked shirt and wool slacks suited Erik, though a touch small and tight-fitting. And his easy smile did strange things to her insides.
“I figured you could use the sleep, sis. Besides, this way I get to repeat what I told Erik about my conversation with the distinguished captain last night.”
“Which was?” She drew out a spindle-back chair from the table and took a seat.
Her grandmother came in from the kitchen just then, bearing plates of sausage and eggs and dark rye toast for the men. She directed her attention to Annelise while setting the food before them. “I see you finally decided to make your appearance this day.”
Annelise bristled as Axel and his new friend swapped amused grins.
“I’ll start some more toast and eggs while you go down and fetch the children for breakfast,” Grams said, returning to the kitchen.
Something about the smiles the two men had sported stuck in Annelise’s mind as she headed for the cellar door beneath the staircase. Her father’s smiles—just as roguish, but deceitful as well—had caused the family untold heartache. Tossing off the unwelcome reminder, she opened the door and flicked on the light to illuminate the wooden steps.
The cellar’s space had dwindled when Axel enclosed secret rooms on either end, disguising the change with floor-to-ceiling storage shelves. Windowless walls made the close confines even drearier as Annelise picked her way through the cluttered maze of washtubs, food stores, and castoffs from the main floor. She carefully opened the secret door concealed with shelves of canned goods.
Two narrow cots occupied one end of the long, shallow room. A small table with chairs sat at the other end, and in between, a bookcase held schoolbooks and picture books. An assortment of worn toys lay about the rag runner covering the floor.
As always, when hearing the door opening, the children ceased their activity and huddled together in mute silence, their chocolate-brown eyes round with fear. Six-year-old Rachel peered up at Annelise, a froth of soft dark curls surrounding her heart-shaped face. She’d taken a protective position in front of her brother, Moshe, already a charmer at three. Both wore faded clothes, with their shiny curls neatly brushed.
Annelise’s heart contracted at the sight of their too-thin frames. “It is all right,” she crooned in the high German dialect. “I’ve come to get you for breakfast. Grandmother has scrambled some nice eggs for you.”
The boy’s brown eyes glinted, and he looked about to say something, but his sister put a finger to her lips. She relaxed her hold on him and stood, then bent to pick up his missing shoe and help him put it on. “There,” she whispered. “We are ready now.”
No smile accompanied the statement, but then, only on the rarest of occasions had Annelise seen either of the little ones smile. They seemed to know instinctively never to make noise, never to speak unless spoken to, never to touch things that did not belong to them. She longed to gather them into her arms and love them to pieces … but Grams, in her wisdom, felt it would only cause the children more grief to become attached to yet more people who’d be shipping them elsewhere. So she restrained her motherly instincts and settled for being pleasant and warm, trying to instill trust in their hearts, showing them that kind people still existed in the world.
“The cold days are almost over,” she remarked as they exited the secret room. “I’ve been making over a new dress for you, Rachel. A pretty one with flowers, for when you’re free to play in the park again.”
The child’s sable eyes misted, and the hint of a tiny smile appeared. But Moshe’s rosy lips plumped with a pout.
“And I haven’t forgotten you, sweetie.” She ruffled his dark curls. “You’ll have a new shirt and vest to wear.”
Suddenly the door at the top of the stairs opened.
Annelise automatically reached for the children.
“It’s that Nazi!” Erik said, closing the door after himself. “He and a truckload of armed soldiers just pulled up out front. Get the kids outta sight!”