Entering the hotel, Anna went through the staff-lobby into the kitchen, a ski-boot in each hand. Dinner was over and only Emil and Cook were there, chatting together. At the sight of Anna the woman widened her eyes. “Store verden! You’ve caught the sun!”
“I had time for some skiing during my visit,” Anna replied with a smile, padding across the tiled floor. “It was perfect weather for it.”
“Lucky you! I haven’t skied since that Easter the Germans came.”
Emil looked inquiringly at Anna. “Are your skis outside, fröken? I’ll put them in the cellar for you.”
“Thanks.”
As Anna was about to leave the kitchen, Edith called after her, wagging a finger dramatically. “Wait until you hear what’s been happening here while you were away! Fru Sande will tell you.”
Anna raised her eyebrows, wondering what it could be. She had intended to find Greta in any case to let her know she had returned.
When she entered the office Greta called from her private sitting-room beyond. “I’m relieved to see you safely back, Anna,” she said, stubbing out a cigarette in an ashtray almost full. “You look so healthy with that tan and I’m a nervous wreck today. Sit down. You’ll never guess what occurred here.”
“Cook mentioned that something had taken place.” Anna sat back on the cushioned sofa.
“You know that batch of young officers who moved in last week? They had a party here last night with a consignment of French girls from the brothel ship in port. If Major Schultz had been here, he would have intervened, but he had gone to Kristiansund for a couple of days. Cook put on the buffet that was ordered and there was so much alcohol being consumed that most of the men were soon drunk. Then, when supper was over, the trouble started.”
“Did they start smashing things up?”
“No, nothing like that. The girls simply refused to go up to the bedrooms. Tempers were lost and there they all were, the girls fighting and struggling on the stairs with the drunken officers and screaming out that they would never serve the dirty Boche and much worse. I know enough French to have understood that.”
“Those girls were courageous!”
“They were a new consignment flown in a few days ago. I’ve heard since that as soon as they went on board, they all rebelled. As with all the prostitutes brought from Nazi-occupied territories for these vessels, the Frenchwomen had been given no choice about leaving their own country.”
“Weren’t the officers warned of their attitude?”
“Apparently not. The girls were pleasant enough to their German hosts when they arrived at the hotel. It’s my belief that they came for the food, which would be better than their rations, and some wine. But — obviously — nothing more.”
“What happened in the end?”
“Soldiers were called in and there was such confusion. The girls were rounded up and shoved in the back of an army truck. They went off shouting `Vive la France’ and singing the Marseillaise. But not to the ship. Today Oberleutnant Werner, looking bleary-eyed and with scratches down his face, told me they were being sent to a concentration camp.”
“Oh no!” Anna spoke in dismay.
Greta let her hands rise and fall in a gesture of sympathy for their plight. “I shall give Major Schultz a full report when he returns tomorrow and I’ll speak up for those unfortunate women.”
“Please do! I will too.”
“He might listen more to you than to me.” Greta did not speak with much hope for either of their appeals before her voice took on an apologetic tone. “I’ve been going on about all the troubles here and I haven’t asked yet if you had a successful trip.”
“There were a few problems, but in the end all went well.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Anna said, getting up out of the comfortable sofa, “I’m going to have a hot bath and go straight to bed.”
“You must have something to eat first.”
“I really don’t need anything but sleep. I’ll say good night and see Margot in the morning.”
*
The next day was uneventful until early evening when Klaus Schultz returned. Having been told by Margot that her mother wanted to see him at once on an urgent matter, he went straight to Greta’s office. He was shut in with her for twenty minutes.
Anna caught a glimpse of him when he emerged. His face was livid with rage, a muscle working in his cheek, and he went at once to his room. Anna could tell he would be a dangerous adversary if crossed and made up her mind to be extra careful in all her dealings with him.
Soon afterwards Margot informed her as to what had happened. “He was so angry and is going to reprimand all the culprits. I wouldn’t be in their shoes!”
Dinner passed without incident. Afterwards all the officers went as usual for coffee in the comfortable peisestue, so named for the open corner fireplace where logs blazed in the evenings for their comfort, for they denied themselves nothing. It was after one of the waitresses had carried out the cups and emptied coffee pot that the officers not involved in the French fiasco left the room. Although the last one closed the door after him, the snap of heels was heard as Klaus Schultz’s angry command brought the rest to their feet. From the lengthy rumble of his tirade it was clear he was showing them no mercy.
Anna had taken over the reception desk and she saw them file out, some flushed, all of them looking disconcerted, and in turn they went to present their apologies to Greta. Not for the first time Anna thought what a contrast there was in the violent brutality the German troops committed under orders and the strict discipline that forbade them any personal laxness of behaviour off duty. It was Klaus’s respect for Greta that had outraged him on her behalf.
When Klaus himself emerged from the room, he saw Anna at the desk and his stern expression softened into pleasure at seeing her. “You’re back. How did your trip go?”
She had her answer prepared. “I’m sorry to say that the old lady I’d hoped to visit died a while ago. I took advantage of the time I’d been allowed off work to go skiing.”
“What a good idea! Are you going to the ski-jumping on Sunday?”
“I’ll be on duty.” It was the perfect excuse. Any sports event sponsored by the Germans was boycotted, a measure of the contempt shown by people who had once crowded to Holmenkollen and other ski events in their enthusiastic, flag-waving thousands.
“That’s disappointing. But I hope nothing has arisen to prevent you coming to the party with me.”
“No. Nothing at all.” She hoped her smile was not becoming fixed. He was leaning his arms on the reception desk between them, looking directly into her face as if intending to create a more intimate atmosphere between them. Little did he know that while he was at dinner, she had examined the file he had brought from Kristiansund. Unfortunately it only showed that he had been organising the bringing in of more prisoners, Yugoslavs this time, to work on the immense task of installing the great gun. “Fru Sande would never renege on a promise to let me off duty.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t.” He paused for a moment. “Fru Sande has been most gracious over the disgraceful upheaval that took place here while you and I were away.”
“I’ve been told about it.” Anna had been waiting for the moment when she could bring up the subject and now he had done it for her.
“Your employer has always been most gracious. She has never objected to drinking parties for officers only and those can be extremely noisy and destructive at times. What happened here the other evening was inexcusable behaviour on her orderly premises. If there were more people in this country as co-operative as Fru Sande our task here would be an easy one.”
“She’s very fair in all matters. What of the French women? Are they to be treated fairly for their protest against being brought here from France against their will?”
A tight expression clamped down on his face and he straightened up from the desk. “They were brought here to follow t
heir own profession and, since they refuse to do that, they must be put to tasks of a different kind.”
“I feel so sorry for them. Why not send them back to France? That would be the humane thing to do. Surely you could arrange it, Klaus?” Her urgent appeal melted his expression and he smiled.
“You’re investing more authority in me than I possess. Rebellion in any form against the Third Reich must be punished. One of the officers, whom I’ve just reprimanded, informed me that our commanding officer has already sent the Frenchwomen to the females’ section of a place of confinement.”
“Grini?”
He hesitated. “Yes.” Then seeing her look of dismay, he hastened to reassure her. “I know there are rumours about the camps, but you must not believe all you hear. People are simply taught to understand what it means to reject Nazism.”
“I’d hoped you might be able to help the French women.”
He put his head slightly on one side as he regarded her almost with amusement, as if her plea had been that of a child innocently requesting the impossible. “You have a tender heart, my dear. That’s very admirable in the right circumstances.” If he had been able to reach her hands over the desk he would have taken hold of them, but she was keeping her distance. “I have to say it, Anna. You’re more beautiful every time I see you. It makes me all the more thankful that you weren’t here to witness that unpleasant scene. You would have been even more upset. Young women like you should be cherished and protected. I don’t even care to see you working here.”
Anna knew what was passing through this Nazi’s mind. He was like so many others of his kind, believing Hitler’s dictate that women were fit only for the kitchen and bed. “I’ve been told there were two male clerks here before the war,” she said, “but both were shot after attempting to get away to England.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, unmoved. “Then, unfortunately, they were among those who couldn’t accept that we had come as friends to save Norway from the British.”
She wanted to demand if that was why he and the rest of the Wehrmacht had invaded Poland and Belgium and France and Holland and Luxemburg and Denmark, all before destroying the peace of Norway. Yet she dared not give way to showing her loathing of him and all he represented. Too much was at stake in every way. “If you hadn’t come to Norway, I wouldn’t have such a important date tomorrow evening.”
He was delighted with her and smiled widely. “It is for me too, Anna.”
The telephone rang at this point and she picked it up. “Hotel Ryan. How may I help you?” When the reply came, she put her hand over the mouthpiece. “I’m afraid this will be a long call, Klaus.”
He raised a hand in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, drawing away.
The caller was one of Margot’s friends, named Alf Ottersen. Anna recalled having a long and interesting talk with him at the party where Margot had taken her. They had also danced together three or four times.
“How are you, Anna?” he wanted to know.
“Fine. I had a break this week to visit someone, otherwise I’m busy all the time.”
“Not too busy, I hope, to come and watch the ski contest with me on Sunday?”
She was taken aback, never expecting any of Margot’s friends to support an enemy-sponsored sports event. “I’ll be working.”
He must have caught how her voice chilled and yet he became persistent. “Can’t you switch duties? Naturally none of our best men are taking part. God knows whereabouts they are now. But the Germans are entering two good skiers from their own ranks and some of their ski-troops are taking part. We’ve only four entrants and only one of those can hold his own. Maybe you’ll know his name. When he was younger, he was in the Norwegian team that went to the last Winter Olympics held in Germany before the war and won a Gold Medal.”
Suddenly suspense made her nerves tingle. “I was a bit young myself at the time. What’s his name?”
“Nils Olsen.”
She gripped the telephone tightly, not daring to hope. “Have you seen his name on a poster?”
“No, more than that. I saw him in training today. He’s a late entrant, but he only arrived in Alesund last night.”
She sank down on to the chair by the desk. Now she knew why Alf had phoned. He was as much into Resistance work as she. Nils must have asked him to get a message to her.
“Anna? Are you still there?”
“Yes, Alf,” she replied. “Forgive me. I was distracted momentarily.”
“I can see what you mean when you talk about being busy at the hotel. I suppose there’s always a coming and going of those staying there.”
He was covering up for her involuntary lapse of silence. Collaborators’ ears listened into many telephone conversations as everybody knew, and she became more guarded. “You’re right. No, I can’t come with you, Alf, but thank you for asking me.”
“I doubt if I’ll go on my own.”
She knew he wouldn’t. He had carried out what he had been entrusted to do. “Maybe we could meet another time when I’m free,” she suggested.
“That’s a great idea. I’ll ring you again. Goodbye for now.”
Anna replaced the receiver and remained seated, her hands lying palm uppermost in her lap. Nils was safe! The thought rang through her head like a jubilant bell. She wished she could tell Karl, although he was likely to hear soon from some other source. It had been hard not to accept Alf’s invitation, but for safety’s sake it was best to stay away. She must be content that Karl’s hopeful prediction had come true and that once again Nils had pulled strings and lulled the Germans into trusting him once more.
What a clever move it was to go straight into the public eye, appearing to give open support to the Nazi regime, no matter what his inward feelings. Then it crossed her mind that there was even a chance that he might be at the party. After all, as he had re-entrenched himself in the Germans’ favour, he might be invited with the other civilian guests, especially if they knew that he had once been an Olympic contestant at Hitler’s Garmisch-Partenkirchen. She began to hope that Saturday evening would prove to be better than she had first expected.
Chapter Twelve
When Saturday evening came, Anna took the borrowed gown she was to wear from its hanger. After she had accepted Klaus’s invitation to the party, Margot had told her she would have to dress up.
“The German officers expect it of their civilian guests. They like to look smart themselves and — damn them! — they always do in any case. So it will be evening dress for all the invited women and the collaborators. I’ve plenty of evening gowns I haven’t worn since before the Occupation. Take your choice.”
So the selection had been made. Anna had decided on an oyster silk, quite plain, and Greta had offered her the loan of gold earrings and a necklace, which she had accepted.
Checking her appearance in her bedroom mirror, Anna knew she had chosen well. The pale sheen of the gown set off the sun-tint of her arms as well as her face, the result of skiing in the heat of the midday sun with her jacket and jersey tied by the sleeves around her waist.
Her thoughts drifted to another evening gown, one of shaded peach chiffon that Aunt Rosa had generously ordered from Paris for her seventeenth birthday. She’d had only one chance to wear it and she supposed it was still hanging up in her bedroom in Oslo. Her aunt was a great hoarder in any case and would still be keeping it for her. Anna felt a wave of childlike devotion go out to the woman who had been like another mother to her.
It was time to go downstairs. Anna picked up an evening purse and threw a velvet wrap, both borrowed, over her arm. She was buoyed up by the hope of seeing Nils and went cheerfully out of the room.
Klaus was waiting in the lobby and he looked up sharply as she appeared, a slow smile of immense appreciation spreading across his face. He desired her intensely, this lovely young woman coming down the flight to him now, pale silk shimmering over her slender, well-formed figure. Gold glinted at her ears and
around her throat, her fair hair swinging softly and full of those same lights. He clicked his heels and bowed in tribute to her beauty before coming to the foot of the stairs as she reached it.
“Every man this evening will envy me,” he said with satisfaction, taking the wrap from her to place it around her shoulders.
Anna thought with amusement that he, conscious of his own exceptionally good looks, would probably expect every woman to be jealous of her!
At the reception desk, Margot bade them an enjoyable evening. Her irony was lost on Klaus, who barely acknowledged her. She observed that he had eyes only for Anna and hoped that it would not prove to be a problem.
A military car was waiting outside and the army-driver saluted before whipping open the door. Taking a seat, Anna wondered what unfortunate owner in Alesund had had this splendid car commandeered from him. One of the first things the Wehrmacht had done was to take all the best cars everywhere with no compensation for the owners.
“Whom do you expect to be at the party this evening?” she asked as they were driven through the blacked-out streets, the faint glow from the car’s shielded headlamps barely showing the way. Klaus listed his commanding officer and some others to whom he would introduce her, but there was no mention of Nils.
Arriving at their venue, they went from the darkness into warmth and brightness. When Anna returned from leaving her wrap, Klaus offered her his arm and she had no choice but to place her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“This makes me feel as if the war has been won,” he said with pleasure as he led her into the room where the party was already in full swing, “and we are at one of Berlin’s many nightclubs.”
She could not tell him that on Greta’s hidden radio she had heard the BBC give the news that Berlin had been bombed again by the RAF, which boded ill for those nightclubs.
The music of a military dance band greeted them, the saxophones and trumpets catching the light with a silvery gleam. Couples were dancing on the circular floor surrounded by tables, each with a lighted candle. At one side of the room, doors were drawn back to reveal a buffet supper laid out.
The Fragile Hour Page 12
