Page 111 of The German Mother

Her firm manner had the desired effect. Reluctantly, the guard picked up the phone and briefly muttered into the mouthpiece, finally nodding. ‘Dr Goebbels’ secretary will come down in a moment, madam. Please take a seat.’

Minki chose a high-backed leather sofa and waited. Five minutes later, a young woman approached her. ‘Frau vonZeller?’

‘Yes.’

‘Please come with me.’

Minki followed her up a grand staircase to the first floor, and along a parquet-floored corridor towards a pair of impressive double doors at the far end. Opening the doors, she motioned Minki inside. As Minki entered the plush wood-panelled office, two further secretaries looked up, scowling, as if annoyed by her interruption to their perfectly ordered day.

‘Please, do sit down,’ said the young secretary, indicating a sofa set against the wall. ‘The Reichsminister asks if you could wait – he is very busy.’

Minki sat down nervously, mulling over how to approach Goebbels. In the old days she could have seduced him, or at least flirted a little, to get her way. But the last time they had met – at the premiere ofI Accuse– they had argued, and afterwards, he had not even bothered to say goodbye. Now she regretted her behaviour, cursing her own frankness.

The young secretary interrupted Minki’s thoughts. ‘Frau vonZeller, would you like some coffee?’

‘Yes please.’

The young woman left the office, and returned with a pot of coffee and, on the side of the tray, a folded copy of Goebbels’ newly founded newspaper –Das Reich.

The headline was eye-catching and alarming:

ALL GERMAN JEWS TO BE DEPORTED

Minki read the article with growing disbelief. Hitler, it said, had demanded the Greater German Reich be cleansed of its Jewish population by 17September. All remaining Jews were to be moved to ghettoes in eastern Europe.

Glancing up, Minki noted the date on the office calendar. Today was the twelfth. That meant there were just five days before all those people – like Leila’s parents – were rounded up and banished. In disgust, she laid the paper aside.

Time passed, and Minki anxiously checked her watch. ‘Will he be much longer?’ she asked the young secretary.

‘I’m not quite sure. He’s very busy.’

From time to time, one or other of the secretaries disappeared through a second set of double doors, which Minki presumed led to Goebbels’ private office. They would reappear some minutes later and start typing. She guessed the great man was busy with dictation.

An hour went by… then another. Minki’s initial anxiety was replaced by irritation at being kept waiting so long.

Towards one o’clock, lunch was wheeled in on a trolley by a guard in SS uniform.

‘Go through,’ said the senior secretary. The guard pushed the trolley into Goebbels’ private office and withdrew. Another hour passed. The same guard returned to collect the trolley.

Two visitors briefly came and went. Finally, after checking her watch, Minki realised she had been at the office for nearly five hours. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to the senior secretary, ‘but has he forgotten about me? I really must see him. It’s most important.’

The secretary sighed and gave Minki a tight-lipped smile. ‘I’ll just check, Frau vonZeller.’

She reappeared at the double doors a few minutes later. ‘The Reichsminister will see you now.’ Minki sensed the secretary’s irritation as she walked past her and into Goebbels’ office.

He was sitting behind a large desk at the far end of the room, head down, concentrating on something – a paper perhaps – when Minki entered the room. He seemed smaller than she remembered. When he spoke in public – at press conferences and rallies – his personality was so powerful and mesmeric that he appeared statuesque, almost majestic. Even at dinner or drinks parties, his charm and magnetism increased his stature. But now, seated behind his absurdly large desk, the great man appeared diminutive and insignificant.

Finally, he looked up. ‘Minki, what an unexpected pleasure.’ He briskly stood up, hurried round the desk and, to her astonishment, kissed her boldly on the mouth. It was something he had not done for years and was clearly designed to be both disarming and intimidating. ‘Sorry about the wait but without an appointment it’s hard to fit people in. How is Max?’

‘I don’t know…I haven’t seen him for days. In fact, I’ve left him. Can I sit down?’

Goebbels indicated a visitor chair opposite his desk, and offered Minki a cigarette from a silver box.

‘Thank you,’ she said, as he lit it.

‘Drink?’

‘Please.’