Potsdam Station (40 page)

They spent the next couple of hours in a room close to the entrance. The shelter was less crowded than it had been – many long-term residents had concluded that the outside world, with all its Russian shells and soldiers, offered a better chance of survival than a last-ditch SS fortress. And if Effi was not mistaken, some of the SS felt the same. As she and Rosa waited to leave, several young supermen stopped to stroke the girl’s hair and wish them good luck, tears in their pure blue eyes.

The transport was late arriving, and it was almost nine when the call came to climb the stairs. Effi hadn’t breathed any outside air for several days, and the stars sprinkled above the shelter entrance gave her reason to smile. Potsdamerplatz, by contrast, was a wilderness of rubble. Since their vigil earlier in the week, the last facades had been torn away, and what remained bore an eerie resemblance to an ancient ring of stones.

Their lorry was pumping dark exhaust, its tailgate lowered to allow them aboard. There were fifteen of them, mostly medical staff that Effi recognised, with only a couple of hangers-on. Most seemed in high spirits, as if they were heading off on an adventure, rather than driving through shell-fire to another bastion of useless resistance.

In fact, there seemed to be a lull in the shelling. As they drove south on Potsdamer Strasse a full moon rose through the ruins behind them, and the city seemed more at peace than it had for weeks. They rattled over the hump-backed Potsdamer Bridge and turned right along the southern bank of the Landwehrkanal. Through the open back of the lorry Effi saw moonlight dancing on the gently rippling water, and the sudden eruption of flames from a building on the north bank. Another explosion followed, this one further back.

The lorry’s engine started to cough. It limped on a few more metres and then suddenly jerked to a halt.

The driver was still fending off complaints when shells began landing all around them. Everyone scrambled out of the lorry, most seeking cover between the wheels. Others crammed themselves into the nearest convenient doorway, leaving Effi, Annaliese and Rosa running for the shelter of an alley. They had only just reached it when a shell exploded behind them with an enormous ‘whumpf’, and hurried them on like a strong gust of wind. Effi turned to see another building ablaze on the far side of the canal, and a shell explode in the shallow water, sending up a huge spout for the moon to burnish. A shower of drops landed all around them.

‘Let’s find somewhere better,’ Annaliese insisted, already on her way. Effi went after her, Rosa’s hand held tight in her own.

Another shell landed behind them, and this time there were human screams as well. The entrance to the alley was a wall of flames.

They emerged into a small and apparently deserted mews. A garage with open doors looked inviting, but offered no real protection. They hurried on down the narrow street, Effi conscious that they were heading south, and probably towards the Russians. The shell-fire seemed to have stopped, and she was wondering whether they should walk back towards the canal, or at least look for a road leading west, when she saw the car peeking out of its garage.

It was a black Hanomag, like the one that John had owned, the one in which he’d taught her to drive. She told Annaliese to wait, put down the suitcase, and went to inspect it. It had diplomatic plates, which was hardly surprising in an area known for its embassies.

‘You don’t suppose it has any petrol?’ Annaliese asked at her shoulder.

‘We have no key,’ Effi reminded her. Squeezing in alongside the driver’s door, she lowered the handle. It opened, but there the miracles ceased. There was nothing in the ignition.

Effi’s face fell, but Annaliese was smiling. ‘Gerd was a mechanic,’ she said impatiently. ‘I can start a car without a key if there’s any fuel in its tank. Here are some matches. Have a look at the gauge.’

Effi struck one, and tried to make sense of the instruments. ‘There might be some,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Well, get out of there and let me have a go.’

Effi did as she was told, and waited with Rosa outside the garage. ‘Can we just take a car?’ Rosa asked doubtfully.

‘As long as we bring it back,’ Effi reassured her. She had almost given up on Annaliese’s promise when the car’s engine sprang noisily to life. There was a grinding of gears, and it inched forward out of the garage, a beaming Annaliese at the wheel. ‘Your taxi, Madam!’

Effi climbed in beside her, Rosa in the back.

‘Where shall we go?’ Annaliese asked.

‘I’d like to go home,’ Effi said.

‘Me too,’ Rosa agreed from the rear.

‘And you can stay with us until it’s over,’ Effi suggested to Annaliese.

‘I’ll think about it. I might just drive on to Spandau once I’ve delivered you two. If that’s all right with you. You found the car.’

‘You’re welcome to it.’

They drove slowly down the mews, turned right at the end, and soon found themselves on Lützow Strasse. Two military lorries went by in the opposite direction, but the once-busy avenue was otherwise empty of traffic. The moonlight was strong enough to steer by, and Annaliese turned off the lights. Driving round Lützowplatz she struck two pieces of rubble in quick succession, which shook everyone up but failed to slow the Hanomag.

It was ten in the evening but felt like four in the morning. Distant explosions flared in the wing mirrors but the world ahead seemed fast asleep. They arced round the ruined Memorial Church and under the railway bridge on Hardenberg Strasse. There was a barricade up ahead, so at Effi’s suggestion Annaliese took a tight left turn and drove back down to Kant Strasse. A right fork at Savignyplatz brought them onto Grolman Strasse, which was just about passable.

‘Our place is just round the corner,’ Effi said hopefully, as they passed the ruins of the Schiller Theatre. If Grolman Strasse was anything to go by, the area had taken a pasting in her absence.

Annaliese stopped the car a prudent few metres short of the intersection, and examined the petrol gauge by the light of a struck match. It had risen slightly. ‘I’ll keep going,’ she decided. ‘It can’t be much more than five kilometres from here, and Gerd’s family could probably do with some help – they’re quite old. And if they don’t I can try and reach the Americans.’

The two women embraced, and Effi got out. Rosa primly reminded Annaliese that she had to take the car back once the war was over, and looked somewhat put out when the nurse just laughed.

She inched the car round the corner and, once reassured, accelerated out of sight.

Effi and Rosa followed. Bismarck Strasse had suffered fewer recent depredations than Grolman, and their building was still standing. This was reassuring, even though life was now lived in the shelter. Descending the steps, the first person they met was Frau Pflipsen, happily puffing on a Turkish cigarette. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked. ‘Your brother’s been here since yesterday.’

‘My brother?’ Effi echoed. ‘Which one?’ she improvised. ‘I have so many.’

‘I don’t know. He’s upstairs in your flat, I think. I’ve told him several times what a risk he’s taking, but he doesn’t seem to appreciate the danger. I don’t suppose they’ve had much bombing in Beeskow.’

‘No, probably not. I’ll go up and get him. But you stay here with Frau Pflipsen,’ she told Rosa. ‘I won’t be long.’

Effi hurried back up the steps, across the yard and into her building. It had to be Aslund, she thought. But what was he doing here? Was he on the run, after all this time? It didn’t seem likely.

She trudged wearily up the stairs, and opened the unlocked door.

It was John, sitting in the chair by the window, apparently asleep. She let out a small gasp of delight. She couldn’t believe it. Where had he come from? And how? She rushed towards him.

As she placed her hands on his shoulders his eyes opened.

‘Effi,’ he said, as if everything was right with the world. She looked thinner, exhausted, about ten years older. He had never seen anything half so beautiful.

He stood up, and they dissolved into each other’s arms.

‘How did you find me?’ she asked after a few moments.

‘Zarah told me where you lived.’

‘But she doesn’t…’

‘She saw you in the street once and followed you. She needed to know where you lived.’

Effi shook her head in amazement. ‘But how did you find Zarah? How did you get to Berlin?’

The Russians brought me. Would you believe I jumped from a plane out beyond Gatow?

She couldn’t help laughing. ‘Oh John, this is so wonderful.’

‘I had to get to you,’ he said simply. They stood there, hands on each other’s shoulders, staring into each other’s eyes.

‘I saw Paul yesterday,’ Effi said.

He gripped her shoulders a little tighter. ‘Where? Is he okay?’

‘It was in the big shelter at Potsdam Station. He was in the hospital, but he wasn’t badly hurt – just a concussion. He’s in uniform, of course, but he’d lost touch with his unit. Some SS bastards told him to report in at the Zoo Bunker, and I suppose he’s still there.’

Russell’s elation was edged with panic – his son was alive, but still at risk. And only a couple of kilometres away. ‘How did he seem?’

Effi grimaced. ‘It’s hard to say. He was the same old Paul, and he wasn’t. He’s so much bigger than I remember, but that’s… he seemed overwhelmed, but what young man wouldn’t be after what they’ve all been through? You know that Ilse and Matthias were killed?’

‘No, no I didn’t. When? How?’

‘Last year in a car accident. Out in the country. They reached the crest of a hill at the same moment as an army lorry. They were both killed outright.’

‘Christ.’ Russell had a sudden picture of Ilse in the foreign comrades’ canteen, all those years ago. Paul would have been devastated. An utterly selfish thought crossed his mind: his son would need him now. ‘Has Paul forgiven me?’ he asked Effi.

‘I don’t know. He asked after you. He didn’t sound angry.’

A shell exploded some way up the street, momentarily lighting up the room.

‘Where did you see Zarah?’ Effi asked. ‘Is she all right?’

‘“All right” might be an exaggeration. Jens tried to interest her in some suicide pills, so she walked out on him.’

‘Ten years too late – no, I suppose Lothar was worth it. But… So she’s back in Schmargendorf. Aren’t the Russians there already?’

‘Yes. She was expecting them. She… well, I don’t think she’s under any illusions. She told me she plans to stay alive for Lothar.’

‘Oh God,’ Effi murmured, as another explosion echoed down the street. But there was nothing she could do for her sister – the Russians would be between them by now. ‘We really should go down to the shelter,’ she told Russell.

‘Okay.’

‘Why were you up here?’ she asked, taking his hand.

He smiled. ‘Would you believe I wanted to be close to you?’

‘I think I might,’ she said, and gave him a kiss. ‘But we must go down,’ she insisted, as another shell exploded, closer this time. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet,’ she added, as they descended the stairs.

‘Not a new boyfriend, I hope.’

‘No, just a new member of the family.’

‘What?’

Effi paused at the top of the basement steps. ‘She’s seven years old and Jewish, and all her family are dead. I’ve more or less adopted her.’

‘Right,’ Russell said lightly. He could see a small fair-haired girl hovering at the bottom of the steps, staring up at them.

They went down. ‘This is John,’ Effi told the girl, after checking that no one else was in earshot. ‘But we’ll pretend he’s my brother until the war ends.’ She turned to Russell. ‘And this is Rosa. We’ve had a lot of adventures together.’

The girl gave Russell a hopeful look, and offered a hand to shake.

Russell took it. ‘I hear you’re part of the family now,’ he said with a smile. ‘And I’d love to hear about all your adventures.’

‘Of course,’ Rosa told him, ‘but we have to wait until after the war is over. We sleep through here,’ she added, leading the way into the large basement room. Most of the inhabitants had already turned in, and one of two burning candles was snuffed out as they wended their way to the far corner. ‘Our beds are still here, but someone has slept in mine,’ Rosa whispered.

‘That would be me,’ Russell whispered back. ‘I didn’t know it was yours.’

‘That’s all right.’

Rosa and Effi took one camp bed, Russell the other, which suited the child rather better than him.

Despite trying hard to stay awake – she didn’t want to feel left out, Effi realised – Rosa was soon asleep. The two grown-ups conversed in whis-pers, and she told him about Paul’s meeting with his uncle. ‘Thomas is also planning to survive,’ Effi remembered. ‘Like Zarah.’

The shelling outside was much more sporadic, and Russell realised he wouldn’t need much encouragement to let desire get the better of sense.

He got none. ‘I can’t leave her down here on her own,’ Effi said, in answer to his suggestion of a trip upstairs. If she woke up and found we were both gone… well…’

‘You’re right,’ Russell told her. ‘It was a stupid idea.’