Chapter 19 Audrey 
BERLIN, GERMANY | MARCH 1939
Here’s more,” Frau Schulze told Audrey, handing her a stack of CVs to add to the pile she was sorting through.
“Thank you,” Audrey said, not making eye contact with her.
They were hiring for a new office girl. Inge, who looked like she could be Audrey’s cousin, had been brought on to fill Audrey’s role when Johanna’s departure precipitated her sudden promotion. Audrey had been training Inge on the assessments just as Johanna had trained her, and was looking forward to handing over the responsibility to Inge entirely once they hired an extra body. Since discovering Daniel Abrams, Audrey was terrified of what might happen if she ever came across another child on an assessment.
In the intervening weeks, Audrey had worked to get closer to Weber, an effort that had not gone unnoticed by Frau Schulze.
“On your head be it,” she’d muttered. “Foolish girl.”
She flirted with Weber, probing for useful information, and Weber was clearly interested, which was a good thing. But Audrey was unnerved by his indifference to Johanna’s flight, and hoped his behaviour was a sign he didn’t know of the pregnancy. She didn’t want to consider how callous a man would have to be to outright ignore such a thing, move on to his next conquest in the same breath.
Weber opened his office door now. She looked up.
“A word, Jakob,” he said gruffly, with half a glance toward Frau Schulze’s retreating back.
She smoothed her skirt and followed Weber, straightening as she walked.
Audrey was invited into his office at least once or twice a day now. He, like Vogt, found reasons for his hands to wander. Every time he slipped an arm around her lower hips or made some insinuation, she thought of Ilse and all the Kaplans, of Daniel’s family and the countless other ghosts whose homes she had helped confiscate, and she knew there was only one way to end it. Her worth as Ada Jakob lay in whether she could leverage her skills into something valuable. In a game that seemed to have no rules, the winner would be determined by who was willing to risk more for the victory. And so she responded to his flirtations with enthusiasm. He blew a little hot and cold, but Audrey had learned that the volatility was all part of the seduction.
“Yes, Herr Weber?” she asked as he took a seat behind his desk.
“Do we have a decent pool to draw from? For the new girl?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. A pause stretched between them. “Is there anything else I can help with, Herr Weber?”
He drummed his fingers softly on his leather desk pad, studying her. “You’ve been working very hard, Jakob. I should think you are due for a pay rise soon.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you, Herr Weber. That’s very generous.”
“Would you join me for a drink after work, Ada?” It was the first time he had used her first name when addressing her, as he had with Johanna. It was a signal. An invitation. “A few of us were going to head over to The Adlon at six. The Roths. The Jagers. Otto Basner and his secretary.”
Audrey didn’t know these names, but it was clear he thought they should impress her, which meant they could be rather important. He dropped each of them with intention and let them land at her feet, waiting for them to resonate. The cell had a meeting tonight, but there was still plenty of time for a drink before eight. A rush rose inside her, a surge of determination that cauterized any lingering fear.
“Oh,” she said demurely, flicking her eyes down so that her eyelashes swept her cheeks. “I’m not sure, sir, it’s been a long week.”
She looked up to find a grin playing around his mouth. He liked her denial, her innocent pushback, and Audrey understood now what Johanna had meant about his slyness, that she hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late.
“All the more reason to have a drink with me.” His tone was stained silk.
She nodded. “Then I would be delighted.”
Are men really this easy? she wondered as she walked back to her desk, ignoring the inquisitive glances from Inge. Could she, in the end, get what she needed from Weber with little more than a playful game of cat and mouse?
Perhaps.
But the cats are the ones with claws. And even the most patient among them will eventually tire of the chase.
Audrey exited the smoky haze of the cocktail lounge at The Adlon Hotel that evening in a state of excitement. The Roths, it transpired, were Gerta and Ernst Roth—and Ernst was Adolf Hitler’s personal driver. Her introduction to him had been brief, but she was clearly being initiated into Weber’s social circle. Hopefully, eventually, it might all lead to something the resistance cell could use.
She could still feel the weight of Weber’s heavy arm slung around her shoulders, pressing on the back of her neck. His dangling fingers had caressed her as he ordered drinks she didn’t want and tried not to finish. She had tried to edge toward the other women, but they were overbearing and chatty and didn’t ask Audrey many questions about herself. Had they befriended Johanna? Did they wonder at all where she had gone, and Ursula before her, or were Weber’s escorts interchangeable? Had they ever met Weber’s wife?
Audrey’s heart rate quickened as she approached the looming Brandenburg Gate. Five enormous bright red Nazi flags draped between the columns, illuminated by the great spotlights that shone up from below. She hurried along, feeling as though she were walking under the gleaming blades of a guillotine that might fall at any moment. But her gaze was pulled sideways as she passed one of the columns. A leaflet was stuck to the wall, one corner flickering in the breeze.
WIDERSTEHE
RESIST
Audrey’s breath hitched. She glanced in all directions. A few evening commuters milled around, and what appeared to be a pair of tourists, necks cricked as they gazed and pointed up at the gate. But there was no one near her. Adrenaline tore through her like a scythe and she snatched the leaflet from the column, stuffing it into her coat pocket. Then she picked up her pace, low heels clicking on the pavement as she headed south down the Ebertstrasse.
Turning onto the Kaplans’ dark street, she tried not to break into a run. She was nearly at the steps when a voice spoke from the shadows to her right.
“There you are, Fräulein James.”
Audrey’s heart shot into her throat. Frau Richter was standing on the front porch of her childhood home, pipe smoke curling above her head. Audrey’s breathing calmed a little. Since returning to Berlin three years ago, Audrey had spoken to Frau Richter a handful of times, but never her husband. He wasn’t well, Ruth had said, and Audrey had only ever encountered his wife, bespectacled and smoking, on the porch of their home, watering the herb planters or putting the cat out.
“Guten Abend, Frau Richter,” Audrey said now with a nod of her tense neck. “I hope you’re well.”
Frau Richter descended the steps with more agility than Audrey would have guessed, and walked over to her. Audrey cursed her inwardly. All she wanted right now was to get home and show the leaflet to Friedrich before it burned a hole through her pocket or got her thrown in prison.
“I know about you, Fräulein,” the old woman said.
“Frau Richter,” Audrey said with a forced smile, “I really do need to get—”
Her face was a foot from Audrey, who took an instinctive step back.
“I know about you,” she said again, and her smoke-scented breath puffed in Audrey’s face. “You’re a traitor.”
Audrey froze, nerves frayed. Her gloved hand clenched the leaflet in her pocket. “I don’t—”
“You’re a sympathizer,” Frau Richter hissed. She tossed her head in the direction of the Kaplans’ house across the street, but kept her eyes on Audrey’s. “After all they did for you. They were good people. Good people. And you go and work for these…” She pinched her mouth in disgust. “I saw you with a baby. Last month. That one of theirs? You a nanny to some jackboot now?” She spat. “In Ruth and Ira’s house? You should be ashamed of yourself. Ashamed.”
Turning on her heel, Frau Richter retreated inside and slammed her door, the sound echoing in the silence of the little side street.
Audrey was speechless. Frau Richter was loyal to the Kaplans, not the German government. The realization made Audrey want to go after her, defend herself, tell her it wasn’t what it seemed. But it wasn’t worth the risk. She could trust no one but Friedrich and Ilse. Hopefully, in time, Frau Richter would learn the truth.
She unlocked the Kaplans’ door and once inside, withdrew the crumpled paper from her pocket, smoothed it out against the textured burgundy wallpaper of the front hall.
Aufruf an alle Deutsche! Audrey read, scanning the page. Appeal to all Germans!
It was heavy with text and appeared to be some sort of student manifesto from the University of Munich. The White Rose, they called themselves.
Isn’t it true that every honest German is ashamed of his government these days? Who among us has any conception of the dimensions of shame that will befall us and our children when one day the veil has fallen from our eyes and the most horrible of crimes—crimes that infinitely outdistance every human measure—reach the light of day?
Friedrich needed to see this. Audrey stopped at the foot of the stairs, listening to his and Ilse’s voices drift down. She found them sitting on the floor of Ilse’s room, Ilse feeding Daniel a bottle, a pile of multicoloured wooden blocks on the rug between them. She had retrieved a box of Ephraim’s old toys from the attic, and it had been bittersweet to see them bringing joy to another child.
Audrey hung back, just outside the door.
“May I feed him?” Friedrich held out his hands.
“Of course,” Ilse said.
Friedrich maneuvered him into a suitable position on his lap. Daniel stared up at him, chin pulsing in and out as he sucked happily at the bottle clutched in his chubby palms.
To Audrey’s surprise, Friedrich had welcomed Daniel, and in the past weeks, Ilse’s resentment at Friedrich’s presence in her home had lost its serrated edge. Audrey had told herself that this change in demeanour toward Friedrich was because of Daniel, that becoming a mother had transformed everything for Ilse as it redefined her purpose. But seeing the two of them together like this—a little family that Audrey observed from the outside—reminded her of the growing distance between them. It was as though she and Ilse had been a pair of magnets, and one had now turned the other way. They could get close, but some unseen force kept them apart.
Audrey had to admit, though, that Ilse was in her element now. The isolation had taken a toll on her, and it was only in seeing her come alive again with passion and purpose that Audrey fully understood how close Ilse had come to disappearing. She had nursed Daniel back to health, pouring her love into him as though she were feeding some deep hunger within herself too. The past months had aged her, in a beautiful but stark way. Now she seemed a different person than the one Audrey had always known, an entirely new version of her-self.
Audrey continued to watch from the doorway, unnoticed.
Ilse smiled now. “I know it’s more risk, but you really don’t mind having him here, do you?” she asked Friedrich.
“No, I don’t mind. I’d like a family of my own one day. But…”
Ilse waited. “But what?”
“We’ll see how things turn out, after all this,” he said. “It helps me to not look too far ahead into the future just now.”
He gave a shrug, as though the thought of his own potential demise was inconsequential, but Audrey understood. They had to simultaneously believe that a good future was possible whilst knowing that death could snatch it away in the process of trying to preserve it. The same things that were worth living for were the same things that were—ultimately—worth dying for.
Friedrich’s eyes moved from Daniel to Ilse again, dancing to a song Audrey recognized. Friedrich and Ilse lit each other up, and a knot twisted in Audrey’s throat.
She cleared it, and all three of their faces turned to her in surprise.
She forced a smile. “Hi.”
“You’re home late,” Ilse said. “How was work?”
“I finally got asked to join Weber for drinks today. At The Adlon.”
“Well, he didn’t exactly take you to a dive, did he?” Friedrich said.
“Gerta and Ernst Roth were there, Friedrich.”
“Hitler’s driver.” His eyebrows raised. “That’s fantastic. Did you learn anything—”
“Not yet, no. But it sounds like they go out together regularly. It might lead somewhere. But look what I found on my way home,” she said, holding out the White Rose leaflet.
Friedrich passed Daniel to Ilse and took the crumpled page. “Where did you find this?” he asked, brow furrowed.
“Posted on the Brandenburg Gate.”
“Did anyone see—”
“No,” she said, a little irritated. “I was careful.”
His eyes were still on the leaflet.
“What is it?” Ilse asked.
“A leaflet from some student group at the University of Munich,” Audrey told her.
“The White Rose,” Friedrich said. “I have never heard of them. But if they aren’t careful, they’re going to get themselves killed. I will give this to Aldous.” He tapped the pamphlet against his palm. “See if he has any insights on what print shop it might have come from. Maybe we can trace them from there.”
“They’ll all be here in a while, Friedrich,” Audrey said. She felt a need to break up this little domestic scene.
“You’re right. This is just…” He grinned at Ilse and Daniel. “Far more joyous and hopeful than anything else we’re doing.”
“I’ll get him to bed soon,” Ilse said.
Friedrich nodded, brushed past Audrey on his way out of the room. Ilse kept her eyes on Daniel, who was reaching out to grasp his own toes, and Audrey lowered herself to the floor where Friedrich had sat.
During the past Red Orchestra meetings, Daniel had been asleep upstairs, watched over by Ilse, but Friedrich had already floated to Audrey that he was considering how they might suggest a change of location to one of the other members’ houses without drawing suspicion, as it was going to become increasingly difficult to conceal a child.
“You don’t like him spending time alone with me, do you?” Ilse asked, flicking her eyes over Audrey’s shoulder.
Audrey made a face. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know. I suppose I miss you, that’s all. Daniel takes up all of your attention now. Work takes up mine. We’ve hardly had any time to speak, just the two of us, since Daniel came. And I guess…” She was unsure how to express why Friedrich enjoying time alone with Ilse irritated her.
“You’re jealous of Daniel?” Ilse asked.
“I didn’t say that.” Audrey exhaled an exasperated sigh. She was still on edge from the excursion with Weber and his friends, and the unpleasant encounter with Frau Richter, which she’d wanted to relay to Ilse. Her nerves were frayed, her patience at a premium.
Ilse shook her head. “You have your work. You get to leave the house every day and go try to accomplish something of value. Until Daniel came, I had nothing. Nothing to do but sit and remember when my father was shot and killed before my eyes, wonder what the hell might be happening to my mother and brother whilst I’m reasonably safe right here, and whether they’re ever going to come back. But Daniel has given me a purpose. A person to wake up for each morning and go to bed thinking about each night. Can you not understand that?”
At their raised voices, Daniel began to fuss in Ilse’s lap.
Audrey and Ilse rarely argued. She couldn’t even recall a time Ilse had spoken to her like this. She felt dizzy, as though the very foundation of her life was spinning. Tears pricked at her eyes.
“It’s not about Daniel! It’s that you seem to make time for Friedrich, but not for me.”
Ilse bounced Daniel on her knee. “I enjoy his company, Audrey, and he’s affectionate with Daniel. I’m allowed to be friends with him, you know. We—”
“I know. I know you are. All right?” She regretted saying anything at all. Regretted her own feelings. “It’s fine,” she said, her voice breaking. “Just leave it, Ilse.” Audrey stood, swiping at her cheeks.
“Audrey,” Ilse called after her. “Audrey, wait. Please.”
But Audrey was already racing down the staircase, pursued by the spectre she couldn’t seem to fight off, no matter how hard she tried.