It had been as if the entire non-Jewish German nation had been convulsed with a sickness: a dark and savage and brutal insanity.
In America, President Roosevelt had told reporters, ‘I can scarcely believe that such a thing could have occurred in twentieth-century civilization.’
It had been a statement that Gilbert was in complete agreement with.
Violet hugged her arms a little tighter against her chest. ‘If the information I have gleaned, and passed on, has done anything to make the American government rethink its isolationist policy, and to impress on Britain’s government that Hitler has no intention of keeping any promise or any treaty that he makes, and that the sooner Britain is on a war footing the better, then the risks were necessary.’
She turned to face him and the sun streaming through the window caught her torrent of red hair, making it glitter like fire.
‘Hitler is a madman, Papa. He’s a megalomaniac. His telling Britain and France that the Sudetenland is the last of his territorial demands is a lie, as is his constant claim that all he wants is peace.’
She came back to the table, this time sitting down next to him.
Slipping her hand in his she said, ‘Only hours after he had signed the Munich Agreement, Hitler told Goebbels that Chamberlain’s backing down over the Sudetenland crisis had shown him how powerful he himself was. Hitler told him that, because of his other plans for territorial expansion, a war with Britain and France would be inevitable, but that he was master of the situation; that Germany’s military situation was excellent and that the country could fearlessly face a war with the great democracies. This, Papa, while at the same time Prime Minister Chamberlain was waving his piece of white paper at Heston Aerodrome declaring it was an agreement, signed by Hitler, promising that Britain and Germany would never again go to war with each other!’
Ashen-faced, Gilbert stood up, saying, ‘That Goebbels would tell you such things only makes me more vastly relieved that you will soon be out of the country. I’d return to London with you today, if I could, but I have a vital task to see to first in Vienna. While I’m there it will give you time to pack what you are going to bring with you and close up the house.’
‘Vienna? But why? Since the Anschluss things are even more horrendous there than they are here.’
‘Zephiniah has a twenty-seven-year-old daughter living in Vienna. Her name is Judith Zimmermann and she believes herself to be Jewish – and may even be Jewish. I’m acting as her sponsor so that she can emigrate to Britain, but things aren’t moving along very fast. I’m going to Vienna to find out why.’
Violet had a score of questions she would have liked to ask about a stepsister she had never heard of, but uppermost was her need to disabuse her father of the impression he was under.
‘I shan’t be packing, or closing up the house, Papa. At least not yet.’
He opened his mouth to protest and she said swiftly, ‘Hitler isn’t only planning to break the agreement he made at Munich and to march into the rest of Czechoslovakia; he’s planning an invasion of Poland. I can pass on this information till I’m blue in the face, but what is needed for America and Britain to treat it as hard fact – and for Chamberlain to put Britain on a full-scale war footing – is documentary evidence. The very second I’ve got that, Papa, I’ll be on a train to Ostend as fast as light.’
Their extraordinary-coloured amber eyes held, hers fierce with determination, his filled with the horror of knowing that the stakes were so high that he had no choice but to give way to her.
‘Promise me,’ he said unsteadily, ‘promise me that you will keep your word.’
‘I promise, Papa.’ She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Darling Papa, what a worry I’ve always been to you, haven’t I? But I promise I won’t be, once I’m safely back in England. I do so long to be in Outhwaite again and to see Hermione and Miss Calvert and Jim and Charlie. Do you know I haven’t yet seen little Charlie junior? We’ll have to have the most enormous Gorton party, and it’s all going to be the most splendid fun.’
They walked arm-in-arm into the hall and she didn’t ring for Irmgard to fetch him his hat and coat. She went for them herself, and helped him on with his coat.
The drawing-room door was open, the Christmas tree clearly visible.
He said, ‘Did you have a long search to find an angel so like the one you grew up with at Gorton?’
‘No. The Christmas markets in Berlin are flooded with Christmas-tree angels in all shapes and sizes.’ Her eyes grew misty with remembrance. ‘I used to love decorating the tree with Mama and Thea and Olivia. Some years Roz spent Christmas with us and helped as well, and Carrie was always there, holding the ladder steady for whoever was placing the angel on top of the tree. When I was little Thea and Olivia never had much time for me, but Carrie always did. In all the years I have lived away from home the person I have always missed most – apart from you, of course – has been Carrie.’
Gilbert, who missed Carrie every second of every day that he wasn’t with her, said with deep feeling, ‘When I’m away from Carrie, I miss her too.’
Violet tilted her head to one side, regarding him intently.
At last she said perceptively, ‘Then when your divorce is finalized, why don’t you marry her?’
‘I’m going to,’ he said as she handed him his homburg. ‘At least I am if, when I pluck up the courage to ask her, she says yes.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Olivia was as surprised and delighted to see him as Violet had been.
‘You should have let us know you were coming,’ she said, ushering him into a drawing room furnished in a style reminiscent of Gorton Hall when Blanche had been alive. ‘I would have met you at the station.’
‘Is Dieter home?’
‘Not for another two or three hours. The Foreign Office workload is manic at the moment. Have I to ring for some plum-cake and English tea?’
‘That sounds grand.’
He had decided before he’d arrived at the house that he was going to say nothing about the purpose of his trip until Dieter was with them. Talking about Judith wasn’t something he wanted to do twice and, unless Olivia brought Violet into the conversation, he wasn’t going to mention her name to Olivia, either. To put Olivia in more danger than she was already in would be insanity, and what she didn’t know she couldn’t, if she was ever questioned, tell.
He was going to tell Dieter, though. There could well be a time when Violet would need his help.
The thought made him shudder and Olivia said in immediate concern, ‘Poor darling Papa. You’re not used to Berlin’s fierce cold weather, are you? Let’s get cosy in front of the fire with cake and tea, and I’ll tell you all about the most amazing experience I had a little while ago.’
He’d always found Olivia the easiest of his children to be with. She didn’t possess Violet’s unnerving ability to shatter his peace of mind, or Thea’s political left-wing intensity. Nor did she possess their fierce intelligence and perceptiveness. Thea would have realized instantly that something was dreadfully wrong for him to have arrived in Berlin so suddenly without warning, and would have questioned him, just as Violet had questioned him.
That Olivia hadn’t, and that they were about to have tea and cakes in front of a log fire while she chattered away happily, was something for which he was thankful.
The minute he was seated Olivia said, ‘The Führer has a secret known only to a handful of people – I’m one of them, and Roz is another.’
His relaxation vanished in an instant. ‘Tell me,’ he said, fearful of what he was about to hear.
Olivia kicked off her shoes and curled her feet beneath her on the sofa. ‘He has a mistress – and he’s had her for several years now. She’s twenty-three years younger than he is, and he never takes her out and about in public. He hides her away at the Berghof, his home in the Alps at Berchtesgaden.’
Gilbert let out a cautious sigh of relief. It was certainly an interesting secret t
o know, but hardly one that would bring the Gestapo down on Olivia’s head – not, that is, unless it was openly chatted about.
‘You don’t talk to friends about it, do you?’
‘Lord! Of course not, Papa. It’s fascinating, though, isn’t it? And the most fascinating thing is that she isn’t at all as you might imagine a mistress of Hitler’s would be. Both Roz and I rather liked her.’
The blood left Gilbert’s face.
‘You’ve met her?’ he asked incredulously.
Olivia bubbled with laughter. ‘I met her for the first time when Dieter, along with other high-ranking members of the Foreign Office, was invited to the Berghof and wives were invited also. She was fascinated by the fact that I was English, and we got on rather well together. Then, in October, she accompanied Hitler to Berlin when he was giving a major speech in the Olympic stadium. True to form, Hitler didn’t want her presence noted and, as she was going to be on her own in a hotel room that evening, she asked if I would keep her company. And so I did.’
‘And Rozalind?’ he demanded, wondering when the many shocks he’d received over the last thirty-six hours would come to a merciful end. ‘How on earth did Rozalind come to meet her?’
‘She came with me to the hotel and, when I went up to Eva’s room, she remained in the hotel lounge. After a little while I mentioned that my American cousin was downstairs, and Eva immediately suggested that she join us.’
‘Dear God! Where were the SS officers when this was happening? There must have been some in the hotel with her?’
‘There were. Two of them were seated outside her room all the time we were there, but they’d been told to expect me and so I wasn’t a surprise to them, and they accepted Roz as being just another foreigner Eva wanted to meet.’
‘And there have been no repercussions?’
‘No. None. Don’t look so worried, Papa. We were simply three young women, all approximately the same age, having a very jolly time together.’
He came back to the sofa, sitting beside her once again. ‘And so this young woman you say is Hitler’s mistress? Who is she? What did you say her name was?’
‘Eva. Eva Braun. And she wasn’t at all what we had expected. Knowing how formal Germans always are, Roz and I were wearing evening gowns and we arrived to find Eva wearing shorts.’
‘Good grief! Why on earth . . . ?’
‘She was in the middle of an exercise routine. She’s very slender, very athletic. Despite our wearing very unsuitable clothes, we joined in the routine with her and we all laughed ourselves silly. She’s pretty, but not at all glamorous or sophisticated. When we’d exhausted ourselves and were sitting drinking wine and eating pretzels she told us that she loves swimming, skiing and American films. She only spoke of Hitler once, and that was when she was talking about his dog and of how fond she is of dogs. Roz said afterwards that she doubts if Eva is even remotely politically aware. There was absolutely no Nazi talk. None at all. She was bright enough, and very bubbly, but certainly not an intellectual. Her main interest – which I understand completely – is clothes. Can you imagine Hitler chatting about clothes? I can’t.’
Neither could Gilbert.
Not until four hours later, when Dieter was with them and they were having dinner – with the dining-room door firmly closed and no telephone in sight – did Gilbert bring up the subject of Judith.
Olivia’s jaw dropped. ‘But that’s incredible, Papa. It’s more than incredible, it’s unbelievable.’
‘Unbelievable or not, it’s a fact – as is Zephiniah having Jewish blood, and the baby having been given to a Jewish family for adoption.’
Dieter said slowly, ‘And as far as you know, her papers are all in order and there is no problem about her entry to Britain?’
Gilbert nodded. ‘The delay can only be at the Vienna end of things.’ He laid his knife and fork down. ‘I’m travelling there tomorrow, in the hope of finding out what the hiccup is and getting things moving.’
His words were greeted with a long silence.
Olivia and Dieter exchanged looks that indicated neither of them thought it likely his trip would meet with success.
At last Dieter said gravely, ‘I doubt it is, as you say in your understated English way, a “hiccup” that is the problem. If you think things in Berlin are bad for Jews, they are far worse in Vienna. If Judith Zimmermann’s home, family possessions and bank account have been appropriated, then the next action is most likely to be her imprisonment in Mauthausen, than the satisfactory handling of her exit visa.’
‘Mauthausen?’
‘A newly opened concentration camp near Vienna. The transportation of thousands of Austrian Jews to German camps such as Sachsenhausen and Dachau was deemed to be too costly and time-consuming.’
The self-loathing in his voice was oceans deep. He said bitterly, ‘There was a time when Hitler made us proud to be German, but it’s hard now to remember that far back. Now I am so ashamed, Gilbert, that there are times when I find it hard to breathe.’
His hand tightened around the stem of his wine glass until the knuckles were white.
Olivia said to him tentatively, ‘Now that Austria is merely another region of Germany, would it be possible for Papa to bring Judith back with him to Berlin? She would be safer here, with us, than she is at the moment in Vienna.’
‘No matter how distant the connection, it couldn’t be known that a Jewish girl is part of our extended family. If nothing else, it would label us as Jew-lovers. My work at the Foreign Office would come to a very swift end and I would come under the kind of scrutiny that could endanger all the people in die Gruppe.’
He didn’t have to specify what group he meant. Gilbert, as well as Olivia, knew very well to whom he was referring.
Olivia said, ‘Aryans are still allowed to employ Jews for menial work. She could work here in the kitchen until she gets clearance to leave for Britain.’
‘That’s true.’ Dieter paused thoughtfully and then said, ‘And that way there could be no speculation – not even from our existing household staff.’ He looked across the table at Gilbert. ‘There is still a problem, though. The usual method of travelling to Berlin from Vienna is through Czechoslovakia. Judith’s passport would have to be shown and, unless it already bears a stamp signifying that she has emigrant status, she would be turned back. A safer option would be to take a train from Vienna to Munich, and then from Munich to Berlin. And whichever way you travel, don’t travel openly together. You are too obviously English, Gilbert. It will attract attention to her. Once she’s here with us she will, as Olivia has said, be far safer than she is at present. Just make sure she brings every scrap of documentation she has, with regard to her emigration and entry into Britain.’
‘And the train times tomorrow from Berlin to Vienna?’
‘I don’t know the times of trains through the day. The most usual train to catch is the night-sleeper. It leaves Berlin at midnight and arrives in Vienna at ten in the morning.’
‘Then that is the train I shall leave on.’
‘Before you do, I’d like you to take a short night-time walk with me in the Tiergarten.’
Gilbert, knowing Dieter wanted to update him on his fellow conspirators’ plans, said, as the door opened and a maid came in to clear the table, ‘Thank you, Dieter. There’s nothing I’d like better than to see the Tiergarten under snow and by the light of the moon.’
‘Things are not progressing,’ Dieter said tautly as, with overcoat collars turned up against the bitter cold, gloved hands deep in their pockets, they crossed Bellevuestrasse and entered the park. ‘There is too much difference of opinion as to the best way to proceed. Those in die Gruppe who, like me, are in the Foreign Office think the only sure way to be free of Hitler is assassination. Men with an army background – the generals who are with us, but who have sworn an oath of loyalty to him – think the solution is a coup d’état. The result is stalemate.’
Snow crunched beneath their feet as they b
egan walking along one of the park’s narrow pathways.
‘And although I am most firmly with those who wish to kill Hitler, I am also beset by other questions. For instance, once he is dead, who steps into his shoes? Göring? Goebbels? You see the problem we have, Gilbert? A simple assassination is not enough. There has to be a complete, new, non-Nazi government ready to take over. The task we face is monumental.’
Gilbert could well see the problem Dieter and his fellow conspirators faced, but it wasn’t one with which he could usefully help. Mindful of how little time there was before he needed to leave for the railway station, he said, coming to a halt, ‘There’s something I must tell you before I leave. Something it is best Olivia does not know – at least not yet.’
Dieter turned to face him. Taking a hand out of his pocket to hold his coat collar together against his throat, he said, ‘Everything these days is a secret. One more will make no difference to me.’
‘It’s with regard to Violet.’
Dieter tensed. ‘Olivia and I no longer spend time with Violet. A long time ago I was . . . over-friendly with Violet. Olivia has forgiven me, but she can’t forgive Violet. It’s something I deeply regret, but I’ve always known the day would come when I would have to tell you why Olivia no longer has a loving relationship with her.’
Gilbert drew in a deep, steadying breath. He’d known Olivia and Violet were no longer on close sisterly terms, but had thought it had been down to Violet’s lifestyle.
The truth was a huge blow; not so much where Violet was concerned – at the moment he could forgive Violet anything – but where Dieter was concerned. He’d always had a great deal of affection for his son-in-law and, since knowing of his involvement in the conspiracy to topple Hitler, a great deal of respect as well.
A Season of Secrets Page 45
