Winter of the World

That was rubbish. The propaganda machine could not conceal the fact that the Russians had won the battle of Moscow and pushed the German line back a hundred miles.

Koch went on: ‘We are now in a position to resume our advance.’

‘Are you sure?’ Maud looked anxious. Carla felt the same. They were both tortured by fear of what might happen to Erik.

Koch tried a superior smile. ‘Believe me, Frau von Ulrich, I am certain. Of course I cannot reveal all that I know. However, I can assure you that a very aggressive new operation is being planned.’

‘I am sure our troops have everything they need – enough food, and so on.’ She put a hand on Koch’s arm. ‘All the same, I worry. I shouldn’t say that, I know, but I feel I can trust you, Lieutenant.’

‘Of course.’

‘I haven’t heard from my son for months. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive.’

Koch reached into his pocket and took out a pencil and a small notebook. ‘I can certainly find out for you,’ he said.

‘Could you?’ said Maud, wide-eyed.

Carla thought this might be her reason for flirting.

Koch said: ‘Oh, yes. I am on the General Staff, you know – albeit in a humble role.’ He tried to look modest. ‘I can inquire about . . .’

‘Erik.’

‘Erik von Ulrich.’

‘That would be wonderful. He’s a medical orderly. He was studying to be a doctor, but he was impatient to fight for the Führer.’

It was true. Erik had been a gung-ho Nazi – although his last few letters home had taken a more subdued tone.

Koch wrote down the name.

Maud said: ‘You’re a wonderful man, Lieutenant Koch.’

‘It is nothing.’

‘I’m so glad we’re about to counter-attack on the Eastern Front. But you mustn’t tell me when the attack will begin. Though I’m desperate to know.’

Maud was fishing for information. Carla could not imagine why. She had no use for it.

Koch lowered his voice, as if there might be a spy outside the open kitchen window. ‘It will be very soon,’ he said. He looked around at the three women. Carla saw that he was basking in their attention. Perhaps it was unusual for him to have women hanging on his words. Prolonging the moment, he said: ‘Case Blue will begin very soon.’

Maud flashed her eyes at him. ‘Case Blue – how tremendously thrilling!’ she said in the tone a woman might use if a man offered to take her to the Ritz in Paris for a week.

He whispered: ‘The twenty-eighth of June.’

Maud put her hand on her heart. ‘So soon! That’s marvellous news.’

‘I should not have said anything.’

Maud put her hand over his. ‘I’m so glad you did, though. You’ve made me feel so much better.’

He stared at her hand. Carla realized that he was not used to being touched by women. He looked up from her hand to her eyes. She smiled warmly – so warmly that Carla could hardly believe it was 100 per cent faked.

Maud withdrew her hand. Koch stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. ‘I must go,’ he said.

Thank God, Carla thought.

He bowed to her. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Fräulein.’

‘Goodbye, Lieutenant,’ she replied neutrally.

Maud saw him to the door, saying: ‘Same time tomorrow, then.’

When she came back into the kitchen she said: ‘What a find – a foolish boy who works for the General Staff!’

Carla said: ‘I don’t understand why you’re so excited.’

Ada said: ‘He’s very handsome.’

Maud said: ‘He gave us secret information!’

‘What good is it to us?’ Carla asked. ‘We’re not spies.’

‘We know the date of the next offensive – surely we can find a way to pass it to the Russians?’

‘I don’t know how.’

‘We’re supposed to be surrounded by spies.’

‘That’s just propaganda. Everything that goes wrong is blamed on subversion by Jewish-Bolshevik secret agents, instead of Nazi bungling.’

‘All the same, there must be some real spies.’

‘How would we get in touch with them?’

Mother looked thoughtful. ‘I’d speak to Frieda.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Intuition.’

Carla recalled the moment at the bus stop, when she had wondered aloud who put up the anti-Nazi posters, and Frieda had gone quiet. Carla’s intuition agreed with her mother’s.

But that was not the only problem. ‘Even if we could, do we want to betray our country?’

Maud was emphatic. ‘We have to defeat the Nazis.’

‘I hate the Nazis more than anyone, but I’m still German.’

‘I know what you mean. I don’t like the idea of turning traitor, even though I was born English. But we aren’t going to get rid of the Nazis unless we lose the war.’

‘But suppose we could give the Russians information that would ensure we lost a battle. Erik might die in that battle! Your son – my brother! We might be the cause of his death.’

Maud opened her mouth to answer, but found she could not speak. Instead, she began to cry. Carla stood up and put her arms around her.

After a minute, Maud whispered: ‘He might die anyway. He might die fighting for Nazism. Better he should be killed losing a battle than winning it.’

Carla was not sure about that.