The German Girl

by Lily Graham

  She nodded, finding herself laughing and crying.

  Then somehow, between herself and Kalle, they managed to get him inside. He was finding it hard to walk, his leg dragging behind him. Asta called for Trine, who came to the kitchen, eyes wild with her shotgun in hand, and her dressing gown only half on.

  ‘What are you doing in my house?’ she hissed.

  Bjørn was barking like a wild thing, and Asta raised her hands, wiping her tears. ‘Trine – it’s Jürgen – he’s alive!’

  It took some time for Trine to lower the shotgun, to look past the brown uniform in her home, to say, ‘Jürgen?’

  To be fair, he didn’t look like the young boy she used to know. He was a man. Asta saw it too; the young boy in her heart, the other side of herself, looked almost like a stranger now.

  Jürgen was easily tired, but he insisted on telling their story.

  ‘After Kalle saved you, he was called in for questioning by the German border police,’ said Jürgen.

  Asta looked up suddenly at the big man, who had taken a seat on what was essentially her bed. He nodded.

  ‘There were a lot of questions about that day, you see – I’m one of the better-known trackers – so it seemed odd that I could have let a girl slip past.’

  Asta blinked. She hadn’t even stopped to think of what danger he must have been in from helping her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine, I’m a quick thinker… but the real surprise was that during the interview they told me that Jürgen had survived – as well as the officer he hit, the red-haired one, Officer Smidt.’

  Asta put her head in her hands. For so long she had pictured Jürgen’s body dead in a forest, so this was like a dream. She couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t just sleeping.

  She wiped away the tears from her eyes. ‘I’ve had this dream before,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I’ll do if I wake up.’

  Jürgen shook his head. ‘It’s no dream, Küken. In fact, a lot of it was a nightmare – until now.’

  They took it in turns throughout the long night to tell her everything that had happened over the past two years.

  ‘I was going to be transferred to Dachau for attempted murder. The officer I almost killed, Smidt, well… let’s just say he was making it his mission to see that I paid for our escape. No one could find you, but they were circulating an image of you… taken from my sketchbook,’ he said, touching his pocket. ‘But thankfully no one had really seen anything – well, that, and the fact that I told them we were headed for Copenhagen, so I think they spent most of their time there.’

  ‘I helped with that – spreading a rumour that you were seen near there,’ said Kalle.

  Asta blew out her cheeks. This whole time, her portrait had been with the border police – at any moment she could have been deported back to Germany, probably straight to the concentration camps where they were sending all their Jews. They had been putting pressure on Denmark to do the same.

  Kalle looked at her. ‘When I found out Jürgen was alive, well, I sent a note – but it was to the wrong address. I remembered that you said your aunt lived here, but there were three people with her name in the telephone book. My father let me know that the first name of the three on the list was where he’d told the taxi driver to take you – as we hadn’t heard anything we thought it must have been the right address and we went there first today. No one was home, so we then checked the other, which wasn’t far, before we came here …’

  He looked sad as he realised. ‘It never got to you.’

  She stared at him, shook her head. ‘No.’

  Trine slammed her hand down on the table. They all stared at her in shock. ‘Two years – two years we could have known you were alive; did the other Trine not think – not open that letter and read it – and figure perhaps there was another woman with a name like hers – someone she could have forwarded it on to?’

  She touched the shotgun, like she was thinking of paying the other Trine Andersons in the phonebook a visit, to demand an explanation.

  Despite herself Asta grinned. She caught Jürgen’s eye, and it was like they were nine again, giggling over something silly they’d done.

  It was past four in the morning when they finished their tale, finally getting to the part where Kalle had snuck Jürgen out of the hospital, dressed as an officer. Telling them how they’d lived on the run. The terror they’d felt when Denmark was invaded, how they were stuck.

  ‘It was terrifying – we were nearing the border, when suddenly we heard the soldiers. We’d missed them by a few hours as they stormed across – they took the roads and the route through the forest. But thankfully we had been moving so slowly that we were behind them when it happened, as I was still so sick—’

  ‘They didn’t treat him very well at the hospital.’ Kalle nodded, a shadow falling across his blue eyes.

  Jürgen nodded too. Then he gave Asta a small smile. ‘I had this male nurse, named Hauser, who just despised me. I didn’t make it easy for him, a bit like Udo…’

  Asta shook her head, remembering the boy in Jürgen’s grammar school who had made his life hard when the Nazis first came to power, and how difficult her brother had found it to keep his cool.

  ‘I didn’t starve, but…’

  ‘Just about,’ said Kalle, picking up the story of how they were stuck just a few miles from the border. ‘There were so many crossing through the same area we felt sure we were done for,’ said Jürgen, beginning to cough. His body shook as it seized him for some time.

  Asta rushed to get him some water.

  ‘We waited a few days, hiding in the forest in a cabin,’ he said. Kalle and Asta’s eyes met, and she looked away; his gaze seemed to bore inside her soul.

  ‘Then when Jürgen was feeling a bit stronger, we took a very winding route across the border. We just had to bide our time because I wouldn’t have been able to go home – our descriptions were with the police.’

  Jürgen nodded. ‘We hid in Kalle’s uncle’s farmhouse, just outside Klimvert, for several months – in a loft room, out of sight. They were really kind to us. But when soldiers came sniffing around, we had to make another plan.’

  From there they described staying with other friends and acquaintances, working in small fishing towns, trying to make ends meet – staying away as much as possible from the cities which were flooded with officers – all of whom had Kalle and Jürgen’s likenesses – until finally at long last they had made it here.

  ‘But you’re safe now, that’s what matters,’ said Trine. ‘And no one will come sniffing around here – we’re a bit forgotten about, thank heavens.’

  Asta nodded, clasping on to Jürgen’s hand, unsure if she would ever let him go again.

  ‘Unfortunately, the officer we tranquillised – to steal his uniform and escape – was Officer Smidt, the one I tried to kill,’ said Jürgen.

  ‘It was the only way I could think of getting Jürgen out of that place,’ said Kalle. ‘I had to use Smidt’s obsession about finding you to get him to break the rules…’ And he explained about the imaginary birthmark and how they were going to ‘trick’ Jürgen into giving up his sister. ‘The trouble is I couldn’t kill him – I mean, he deserved it, but if we were caught we’d have been executed.’

  ‘Of course you couldn’t,’ cried Trine.

  ‘But it means that we left him alive – and, well, if he hated us before,’ said Jürgen, ‘Küken, he despises us now. Thankfully he hasn’t found us yet.’

  ‘And they won’t,’ said Asta, clasping her brother’s hand.

  Jürgen looked at her. ‘I’m just so happy to see you again.’

  Tears coursed down her face, and she nodded back. ‘Me too, you have no idea.’

  She looked up at Kalle; there was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she needed to say but would there ever be words enough? ‘Thank you.’

  He reached out and squeezed the top of her arm, and nodded.

  Asta’s
head was buzzing with everything that had happened. All that had changed.

  The threat of this officer, Smidt – who was no doubt looking for them – was something she couldn’t worry about for now.

  Jürgen was here.

  He was safe.

  It was the most beautiful, most wonderful thing in the world.

  She got up, after barely an hour’s sleep, and slipped outside the room. Jürgen was still sleeping, curled up in the furs of the kitchen bench. Kalle, however, was nowhere to be seen. She found him sitting outside on the porch, a blanket around his shoulders, and a mug of steaming coffee in his large hands.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind, I put the kettle on.’

  She stared at him, then came to sit next to him. ‘Kalle, you could carry this house off on your back and I wouldn’t mind.’

  He smiled, then looked down, embarrassed.

  She was staring at him, so he turned to her with a small smile, his blue eyes vivid even in this low light. He was, perhaps, one of the most physically attractive people she’d ever met, but it was clear that he wasn’t overly aware of it.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ she whispered.

  He looked up at her. ‘Do what?’

  Asta blinked at him. ‘All of this – saving me – saving Jürgen – risking everything…’

  Kalle sighed, and took a sip of his coffee. Then he shrugged. ‘Honestly, it was like something in me snapped.’ She looked confused, and he tried to explain. ‘I just couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Just stand back and watch. Watch as they came back and took you away… maybe worse.’ A muscle clenched in his jaw.

  He looked away, and there was an expression of deep shame across his face. ‘A few months before I met you, there was a couple who tried to cross – but got caught. He wound up dead with a bullet in his back, and the girl… well, I think she wished she had died.’

  Asta frowned, and he ran a hand through his hair, and closed his eyes.

  ‘Two of the officers – including Smidt – captured her. You couldn’t miss Smidt with that hair. I saw it all from the top of a ridge. I was making my way down, when I heard her start to scream. I saw them tear her clothes off and begin to take turns.’

  Asta gasped.

  There were tears in his eyes. ‘I was frozen where I was. There were two of them, and they were armed, but I didn’t do anything. By the time I had decided to act it was too late – they’d already shot her in the head – after they were finished with her.’

  Asta blinked back tears.

  ‘For a long time, I used to see her in my sleep,’ Kalle said quietly.

  Asta gingerly touched his arm. ‘There was nothing you could have done for her.’

  ‘I don’t know. Something would have been better than nothing – and, well, when I saw him there with you – I just… couldn’t.’

  Asta bit her lip, tried to stop herself from crying. ‘Thank you.’

  He placed a hand on top of hers, and it was warm; when he moved it away, she had to stop herself from reaching for it again.

  26

  Being on the run for so long had taken its toll on Jürgen’s body, not to mention the knock-on effects of the gunshot wound that it turned out had never properly healed. He was running a fever, his lips were parched and he was dehydrated. Asta stared at him with her heart in her mouth. She couldn’t lose him after everything that had happened.

  Malthe was called for in the morning, and he examined him with a frown between his eyes. ‘They’ve left part of the bullet inside; I think it would be best if we took you straight to the hospital.’

  Jürgen didn’t want to go. The last time he’d been in a hospital he had faced an impossible choice – be put to death or recover enough to go to a labour camp.

  ‘It’s different here, son, no one will discriminate against you – besides, the doctors and staff are all Danish. There are no officers to worry about, you won’t get treated like… well, worse than an animal.’

  Which was all true. They settled him into a hospital room as they waited for his surgery. Asta marvelled at the sheet delight of being able to spend a day with her brother, even in such circumstances. Like her, he was in good spirits despite everything they’d been through – they were together again, at last.

  Asta didn’t go into work that day, but stayed by Jürgen’s side, marvelling at the changes that had happened to her twin. ‘Your face is thinner,’ she said. ‘Less boyish.’

  He nodded, grinning. ‘You too.’

  He showed her his sketchbook, and they spoke more of all that had happened. ‘It was stupid, probably, to draw what I saw – I’ve tried to keep it vague, but I just needed something to do – something to keep me sane.’

  Asta nodded, she knew what he meant, and explained about the fervour with which she’d thrown herself into learning Danish, her job at the bookstore.

  When she caught the train home that night, she found Oliver waiting on the platform, and they walked back to Trine’s cabin. He held onto her hand, his face radiating happiness for her. When they got back to the house, Kalle was waiting on the front porch, Bjørn on his lap. His blue eyes lit up when they saw her, and he stood up quickly. Their eyes met, and no one said anything for a moment.

  Asta felt something inside her pull towards him, and she squirmed out of Oliver’s cloying embrace. She looked up at Oliver, with a smile plastered on her face, which faltered for a second as she caught the look in the boy’s eyes. He hadn’t missed the spark that had darted between Kalle and her.

  ‘Come and meet Kalle,’ she said.

  He forced a smile, and said, ‘Of course,’ reaching out for the dog, who leapt into his embrace, first.

  After Oliver made his excuses, Asta watched as Kalle prepared to leave – and something in her stirred, a kind of wild feeling she hadn’t felt before. Practical Asta with her notecards and her methodical ways didn’t like to feel out of control, ever, or to display that sort of emotion but Kalle was making it hard.

  ‘You can’t go,’ she said, as he put on his jacket.

  He turned to look at her in surprise, and something seemed to pass between them again. His blue eyes held on to hers for longer than was necessary, and then he looked away.

  ‘I should – I’ve stayed longer than I should have already,’ he admitted, running a hand through his short, dark blond before he pulled on a thick green woollen cap that only made his eyes stand out more. ‘I – just, well, I just wanted to find out what the doctors said.’

  Asta nodded. ‘Well, sit down have a coffee, then I’ll tell you everything.’

  He nodded, and followed her back. She looked from him to the boiling kettle, and her hands shook slightly as she filled two mugs with cheap coupon coffee. Then she told him exactly what the doctor had said. ‘He’s going to be okay, but they just want to remove that bullet, and run some tests.’

  ‘That’s good,’ he said, as she handed him the mug. Then he said, ‘Your aunt’s not home.’ His gaze held her own. It made her stomach flip.

  ‘No, she works late some nights – with the paper.’ She shook her head. ‘And there’s the Resistance – she thinks I don’t know but, I mean, it’s not the biggest town. Still, everyone keeps everyone’s secrets here,’ she said with a smile.

  He took a sip of coffee, then looked away.

  ‘You seem different from—’ he started, then broke off.

  ‘Different?’

  ‘Nothing, I mean, of course you’re different, it was a silly thing to say.’

  She shrugged. She’d been younger. Frightened out of her wits.

  ‘You’re the same, though,’ she said.

  He could still remember how terrified she was of him, how she’d wanted to be anywhere but near him. He could imagine how he had made her feel.

  He stood up. ‘I should go – thanks for the coffee.’

  Something in Asta tensed. If he went now – that was it. She’d probably never see him again. This stranger, with his ro
ugh, wild manner, his deep blue eyes, who had risked everything for them. Something in her broke through, like a wild shoot through frozen earth.

  ‘No.’

  He stared at her in surprise.

  ‘Please… you can’t leave us… you can’t leave me.’

  He stared at her as her cheeks flamed.

  ‘Why? You’ll be safe – trust me, Smidt doesn’t know where you live. As far as he’s concerned you were heading for Copenhagen. Besides, if he’s after anyone it’s me. Trust me—’

  She set her mug down again, and said it again. ‘No.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ he repeated.

  Asta swallowed, then looked at the floor. This wasn’t easy. She felt a momentary pang of sympathy for Oliver. Then she shook her head, and said it as clearly as she could. ‘I want you to stay.’ And then like a runaway train, she added, ‘With me.’

  Asta’s heart beat wildly in her chest. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. She, who had waited exactly nine months before allowing Oliver to put his hands on her. She, who hadn’t permitted him more than the briefest acquaintance with her body, after all his patient waiting and kindness, had just begged a virtual stranger – a man she’d met exactly twice in her life – to be with her.

  He hadn’t made a move, hadn’t got up off the kitchen bench, and she’d set down her coffee mug. Then turned to look at him. She was shocked at the look on his face. It was wild and raw and she blinked, wondering if she’d made a mistake, but before she could try to say something else, he was at her side, his hands in her hair, his lips finding hers.

  Trine agreed that Kalle was safest staying with them.

  ‘You’ve helped save my niece and nephew,’ she’d told him later that night. ‘This is the least I can do – besides, I don’t think Jürgen would thank me if I kicked out his friend after he’d risked everything to bring him to his family. If that officer knows where you live, he’ll know where your family is – it’s better to stay somewhere he won’t think of looking.’