Page 119 of The German Mother

‘Burning bodies – that’s what they say.’

Minki blanched, and the girl reached over and touched her hand. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Minki laid some banknotes on the counter. ‘Can people visit this place?’

‘Why would anyone want to? There are all sorts of strange people in there.’

‘I’m looking for someone – a relative.’

‘Oh, I see.’ The girl dropped her eyes and blushed, clearly embarrassed. She looked relieved when the owner appeared from his private office behind the reception desk.

‘Heidi, I’ll take over here. Please go and help Monika serve the breakfasts.’

The girl scurried off, and he turned to Minki. ‘So, you’re leaving us, Frau vonZeller?’

‘Yes. I’ve paid my bill – thank you.’

‘I couldn’t help overhearing…You’re interested in the hospital?’

‘Yes. I’m looking for someone who might be there… my young daughter.’

‘Well, I hope and pray your daughter is not a resident…It’s an evil place,’ he said quietly. ‘It used to be an asylum. That was bad enough, but now…you hear such wicked things are going on there. It’s a disgrace.’

‘Is it far?’ asked Minki.

‘No, madam. It’s a large grey building on the northern hillside above the town – you really can’t miss it.’

Driving along the main road, Minki quickly spotted the hospital on the side of a hill overlooking the town and surrounding countryside. She followed the winding drive uphill, finally parking at the side of the long two-storey building. It was gloomy and forbidding, and her heart was racing as she walked towards the main entrance. She was about to ring the bell when something gave her pause. Surely, if everything she had heard about the place was true, they would not welcome a casual visitor. So, instead, she walked its whole length – a hundred metres or more – peering through windows. Curiously, there was no sign of life – she could see neither staff, nor patients. Walking round the side of the building, she found another entrance. She pushed at the door, but it was locked. Walking on another forty metres or so, she found a large black barn, with doors wide enough to accommodate farm machinery or tractors – an incongruous structure in a hospital setting.

She sat for a while in the sunshine on a stone bench opposite the barn. The peace and quiet seemed at odds with all the nasty rumours she had heard from the townspeople. Interested to see the rest of the site, she stood up and continued walking along a tarmacked road, past a couple of insignificant buildings, and noticed a set of steps leading further up the hill. As she climbed them she turned round from time to time, admiring the view across the valley. It was a scene of bucolic charm – rolling fields, a distant vineyard, and little farm buildings dotted on the skyline. Birds sang in the trees above her head. At the top of the steps was what looked like a cemetery, with serried ranks of simple wooden posts set in the ground. Her heart beating fast, she walked among the simple wooden markers. Would Clara’s name be among them? But the graves were marked only with numbers. A high wall made of stone surrounded the graveyard, and set into the wall was a wooden gate. Minki pushed it and to her surprise it gave way. All around was countryside as far as the eye could see – fields of wheat, surrounded by woodland.

Retracing her steps, she was approaching the hospital when she saw a long single-decker bus coming round the corner. It was painted grey, with its windows blacked out – just like the one that had taken Clara away. Her heart beating fast, she stood in the shadows of a large conifer, watching the bus swing round and stop outside the black barn she had seen earlier. A man leapt out and unlocked the padlock. The doors swung open, and the bus drove inside. Once again the barns doors were firmly shut.

Minki crept closer, expecting the passengers to emerge from the barn. Perhaps, by some miracle, Clara would be among them. She could hardly breathe with the anticipation. But as the minutes went by, no one came out through the barn doors. She heard the distant sound of voices chattering. Were these the passengers? And if so, where had they gone? Eventually the chattering subsided, the barn doors were reopened, and the bus reversed out and drove away.

The barn doors had been left ajar and Minki crept closer. She could hear two voices coming from inside.

‘Are they all in?’ asked a man.

‘Yes, yes,’ a woman replied impatiently. ‘I know how to do my job – I don’t need you telling me what to do.’

‘We just don’t want any mistakes.’

‘There won’t be any,’ snapped the woman. ‘Mind you – it was so much easier before.’

‘Before?’

‘With the gas…we’d get them inside, and it was all over in minutes – much more efficient. Now we have to think of all sorts of tricks to deal with them. It’s a nightmare. Anyway, I’d better get on.’

Minki felt as if she was going to be sick, and her legs gave way beneath her. She sat down heavily on the bench just as the man emerged from the barn.

‘Hey, you there, who are you? What are you doing here?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Minki, getting to her feet. ‘I’m not feeling very well. I just had to sit down for a moment.’

‘No one’s allowed round here. You’d better come with me.’

‘No, no, it’s all right. My car’s just parked at the front. I’ll be leaving soon.’