She lay in pain as jagged pulses rippled through her body, accom-
panied by a dull but enveloping ache. She did not know whether the
pain was as severe as she imagined, or whether shame and horror
magnified it. She wondered if it would pass, conceiving it as at least possible that she might die in the next hours or days. Of course she would tell no one, not even her mother, not because Hans had
instructed her but because she felt such guilt. She had brought filth and disgrace on herself and somehow it would be infectious if she
told others.
Eventually the pain subsided a little. The sense of dirt did not,
however. She rushed to the bathroom, so that she would be ready in
time for the simple meal before the evening’s festivities. She washed herself as best she could at the basin, splashing water carelessly over 217
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the thick yellow carpet and her white dress, then washed again, and again. She rubbed soap on her underpants, trying to rid them of the specks of blood, disposing of them eventually in the washing bas-ket. In her bedroom, she checked that she was not still bleeding
before putting on fresh underwear, placing one of her handkerchiefs carefully inside in case she later did. None of this made her feel
cleaner, or safer.
The meal was a subdued affair, not as it should have been before
such a glittering evening and not as it usually was. Only her mother seemed as bright as ever. Her elder sisters appeared distracted and whispered to one another in a manner that suggested concern. She
knew Daddy was not fond of these grand balls but went along with
them for the sake of ‘the girls’, as he called them all, and for social convention. From where she usually watched at the top of the stairs, he did a good job of hosting despite his natural diffidence and seriousness. This evening, though, he looked absently at the snow
falling outside.
‘Are you worrying, my darling, that people will not turn up in this weather?’ asked Magda. The girls usually loved it when their mother called their father darling.
‘Pardon?’ he said. ‘What did you say? Sorry. Yes. I wonder how
many will cry off.’
‘I doubt any will. Snow isn’t going to put too many Berliners off.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ He rallied and smiled. ‘Still, no harm in hoping, eh?’
‘Albert, you love these occasions as much as I do. You know that.’
‘I very much doubt that, my dear.’
‘You’ll get into the swing of it once people arrive.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said doubtfully, and turned to the win-
dow again.
‘Lili, you may watch the girls dress and then you must go to your
room. You may read until eight o’clock and then you will turn your
lights out.’
‘Yes, Mama,’ said Lili.
‘It’s a very strange atmosphere this evening,’ said Magda, with a
gayness that seemed forced. ‘Normally you three would be
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chattering away and I would be interrupting to remind you of your
duties. And Lili, you’d be asking question after question. No one
seems to be excited.’
‘Oh, but we are, Mama,’ said Hannelore with apparent enthusi-
asm. ‘Of course we are. It will be wonderful. I’m so looking forward to it.’
Lili followed her elder sisters to Charlotte’s bedroom, which was
designated as the dressing and make- up room for the party. Each of them bathed in the tub next door before returning to begin the task of dressing. First, there was a layer of underwear to be put on, then hair to be shaped and set with lacquer. Gowns were hoisted and
lowered with exquisite care so as not to disturb the elaborate coif-fures. Bracelets, necklaces and earrings were fastened and checked in the mirror. Finally, sitting in front of the dressing table, they each experimented with make- up from the extensive compendium of
items that Hannelore owned. There was less giggling and excitement
than normal. At one point Lili heard Anneliese say with some ear-
nestness, ‘Hansi . . .’, but she was stopped mid- sentence by a glance towards Lili. Then their mother came to hurry them along and they
were gone. She sat on the bed among the untidy, still- warm mess of clothes, lonely, distraught that she could not confide in her sisters.
The music struck up downstairs and guests began to arrive. Lili
waited several minutes before taking up her usual position on the
landing, overlooking the entrance hall. A cold breeze came up the
stairs each time the large front door was opened by one of the staff.
Smart young men in military uniforms, the friends of her parents,
her sisters’ giggling girlfriends and the obligatory social guests were announced by Bauer, at his self- important loudest, and shook hands with her parents and sisters.
Lili found she was no longer interested in the spectacle and went
quietly to her room. As she undressed she found the locket contain-
ing Hans’s golden hair. She pulled it from her neck, went to her bed and thrust it in the gap between the wooden floor and the skirting
board in which she had stored secret notes, mainly the childish love letters to Hans that she had never sent. She never wanted to see the locket again.
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2
It passed, as the shadow of a cloud passes. Guests may have com-
mented the next day that the Schröders had seemed rather less
delightful than in previous years, that Albert may have appeared
preoccupied and fractious and the girls a little aloof. Later, a context would be found.
The family awoke the next morning feeling that they should
have put more into the previous evening’s festivities. Magda had
drunk rather too much champagne, through nervousness and an
indistinct feeling of unease at her husband’s and daughters’ distraction, and was beset by an insistent headache. Albert went early to
his office and worried at the accounts while thinking about when he should see Taub again. Hannelore took her seat at her desk in
the same building an hour or so later as the day brightened and
her mood with it. Charlotte and Anneliese had a late breakfast and
went shopping for Christmas presents. The pain in Lili’s body had
passed and she could not quite believe that it had happened as she
recalled it. She sat in her window seat and read, distracted and
unhappy.
It was three mornings later that the SS came calling, at five a.m. Lili did not hear the commotion at first but came out to the landing to
see her father, head bowed, being led down the grand staircase in
handcuffs by two officers in smart uniforms. He did not turn to look at her, or at her three sisters, also standing outside their rooms in their dressing gowns. Magda waited by the door to watch the little
procession into the white landscape. She was not permitted to say
goodbye to her husband.
They were fortunate that they were a sufficiently prominent fam-
ily to attract the attentions of the SS proper rather than a group of grubby SA Brownshirts. They enjoyed the services not of mere
thugs but of sophisticated thugs. The officers understood that the
Schröders were well connected and adhered to procedure with an
insinuating politeness.
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The girls were permitted to dress in private and eat a rushed
breakfast with their mother.
‘The authorities will see that this is a mistake,’ she said, and Lili was not sure whether she was speaking to the four daughters, the
SS men or their servants, who stood and watched, not permitted to
prepare the meal. Or, quite possibly, to herself. At any rate, she
sounded desperate. ‘It’s a simple case of mistaken identity.’
The SS captain in charge said with courtesy, ‘Let’s hope so. In the meantime it is my duty to take you into protective custody. For your own safety. We cannot predict what citizens may do when they hear
of your husband’s arrest. Sadly all too many people are taking the
law into their own hands. You will be conveyed to a detention centre.
I am told it is comfortable enough. But of course not as luxurious as your beautiful house.’ He permitted himself a smile. ‘Would that be a Dürer I happened to see in your husband’s study? Magnificent. I
once studied the history of art. Now, if you are ready? One small bag each, please. And you have nothing to be afraid of. If what you say is true, you will be back in this house before you know it. We must
trust to the Reich’s system of justice.’
A van took them to an anonymous building on the outskirts of
the city. During the journey they were silent, not daring to share
confidences, not able to offer one another false reassurances. The
van drove through two sets of gates. Their reception was brisk but
civil. Their belongings were logged individually in a large stiff-
backed book before being taken for storage. In a small room they
were each given a rough grey serge uniform and told to change.
There was even a child’s outfit for Lili. A female guard watched
them and placed their own clothes into a large brown paper bag.
Back at the reception desk Magda was told to sign the book that
listed their belongings. They were shown to a white- walled, cold
room just large enough to accommodate five thin beds. There was
no bedlinen, only a dirty blanket folded at the foot of each bed.
Their mother muttered repeatedly, ‘It’s a mistake. We’ll be home
shortly.’
Eventually Charlotte interrupted her. ‘Don’t say that, Mama. We
all know what’s going to happen.’
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Her mother stared at her.
‘No, Charlotte,’ said Hannelore gently. ‘We don’t know. Mama
may be right. And Lili . . .’
Hannelore looked at her and smiled, soothing her with her eyes.
But Charlotte had no regard. ‘We’ve seen the families. We’ve forgotten them. No one’s ever come back. It would take a miracle.’
‘Well, let’s believe in that miracle,’ said Anneliese.
They fell silent again.
3
The publicly appointed defence lawyer met Magda and the girls in a
small, shabby office at the detention facility. Lili did not remember hearing his name. Though a kindly looking man in an old- fashioned wing collar, he sat on the only chair and spread his papers on the
rickety table, leaving Magda to stand before him like a supplicant.
Lili tried to pay careful attention but could not stop herself watching the trees swaying in the wind outside.
The man told Magda that the family lawyer was sadly unavailable
to represent them. In any case it was doubtful that sufficient funds remained to pay for him. Their assets had been confiscated pending
judgement. He had been appointed by the court in their interests
and would do his very best for them. He smiled comfortingly before
continuing.
‘Your husband’s case will be heard in two weeks’ time,’ he said,
‘and then your position will be clearer. But there are separate considerations, not least your husband’s Jewish heritage.’
‘But my husband isn’t Jewish.’
‘Of course. That may be so. But it appears that the state may con-
test that assertion. There is an allegation that one or more of his grandparents may have been Jewish. Researches are now taking
place. Given that your husband’s maternal grandparents grew up in
Pomerania, however, this may prove problematic. We’re reliant on
the Polish authorities.’ He looked at her with a little smile of helplessness. ‘Whether or not one or both of his maternal grandparents
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was Jewish is of course critical to a judgement as to your husband
being a non- Aryan of the first or second degree.’
Lili was having difficulty following the logic.
‘But neither of his mother’s parents were Jewish,’ said Magda.
‘They were Germans, from Danzig, with German passports. That
should be simple enough to check.’
‘Do you know for certain?’
‘Well, no. It never seemed important.’
‘Indeed,’ said the lawyer cheerfully. ‘Check they will. Diligently.
Naturally they cannot simply accept a citizen’s word. And given the, er, questions regarding your husband’s integrity and therefore the
family’s, they will also be checking carefully your own ancestry.’
‘Of course,’ said Magda. ‘I understand.’
‘Should it be discovered that relevant facts have been concealed
from the authorities by you or your husband, there will be an
impact. But the greatest consequences will flow from your hus-
band’s trial.’
‘I’m sure Albert would never be disloyal to Germany. He’s not
interested in politics.’
‘Naturally you would say that. But you can’t expect the state to
take it on trust. Especially in the circumstances.’
Magda stared at the man. Lili’s attention drifted. All she wanted
to do was to return home and lie in her soft feather bed. It had
begun to snow again and she watched the flakes driven by the wind.
It was cold, always cold here, and the boredom and the dirt and the despair accumulated in their squalid little room.
Finally, the funny little man with the wing collar was saying
goodbye.
‘I’m sure it will all work out for the best,’ he said, as Anneliese wept. ‘We’ll meet again shortly to consider what we should do
next.’
Her mother had not yet cried; not even in the deep of night when
she could not sleep had Lili seen tears on her mother’s face. Han-
nelore embraced Anneliese as she shook. Charlotte stared on
blankly. Lili felt sad but was not quite sure why. Possibly because of the distress of her sisters and her mother’s clouded face.
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4
She did not see the lawyer with the wing collar again.
If only they had known these days would be so precious. They
had certainly not seemed so at the time. They were confined to
their room apart from their short excursions into the winter cold to walk around the bleak courtyard. She did not know whether they
were kept there or chose to remain. Every so often, a meagre meal
would be delivered, usually cold, by a woman with an unsmiling
face. Each time Lili wanted to use the stinking lavatory facilities along the corridor her mother went with her. The corridors were
deserted, though Lili could hear the distant sounds of children chattering somewhere else in the building. They did not sound happy
but she might have been projecting her own feelings on to them.
She knew something was seriously wrong but could not bring her-
self to believe that her father had done anything sufficiently bad to visit this upon them.
It could only have been a short number of uneventful weeks but
Lili later recalled them more vividly than the following years.
She would wake first and try to gain extra warmth by twisting
the rough blanket around her more closely. She would lie quietly
and watch her mother sleeping on the bed opposite hers. The beds
were close enough together for her to touch her mother but she
never dared do so for fear of waking her. Magda was near to exhaus-
tion anyway. But sometimes Lili would stretch her neck and reach
her face towards her mother’s so that she could feel her breath on
her cheeks and sense the life in her. When it was bitter cold, Magda would invite Lili into her narrow bed, and they would put one blanket on top of the other and Magda would wrap her arms around
her and squeeze her and bury her face in Lili’s dirty hair, and Lili would snuggle back so that every part of the back of her body was
touching her mother’s. But the bed was too small and Lili too rest-
less at night. She insisted unless it was just too unbearable that she was warm enough in her own bed. Because she knew her mother
needed sleep.
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They would all rise together and she would watch as her mother
and sisters summoned the facial expressions that would say to one
another: it’s all right, it could be worse, soon it will be over. None of them believed it but it was a means of navigating the day. One of
the sisters might be able to find a corner of bread and some water
for breakfast and then they would talk, avoiding stories of the life they had once led and instead looking forward to the lives they
would later enjoy. Lili had decided she would become a teacher and
that she would never marry and that she would move to a small vil-
lage in Bavaria where she would live in a cottage.
‘A gingerbread cottage?’ Charlotte had said, laughing.
The Good Liar Page 27
