Page 47 of The German Mother

‘Oh no! Not because of me, I hope. Oh, don’t do that.’

‘We can go another time…it’s not important.’

At that Minki began to weep. ‘I don’t deserve you. I ruined your wedding – and after all you’ve done for me.’

‘You didn’t ruin it…besides, everyone was very concerned.’

Minki turned away. ‘Now they’ll all know.’

‘Don’t worry about that. You’ve never concerned yourself with what others think. It’s one of the things I love about you.’ She smiled, and reached across the bedclothes to take Minki’s hand.

‘That’s true,’ said Minki, wiping her tears away. ‘What do I care what people think? Did you give the countess back her tiara?’

‘Yes, I went there this morning. She sends her love, and was most concerned about you, obviously.’

‘She hoped I’d snare a husband with that tiara.’ Minki smiled ruefully. ‘Fat chance of that now.’

‘Look, darling, you just need to get your strength back and then things will regain some perspective. Miscarriages happen. You’ll have another chance.’

Minki turned away again, tears streaming down her face. She bit her lip and buried her head in the pillow. ‘I need to sleep,’ she said quietly.

‘Of course,’ replied Leila, standing up. ‘I’ll come back later.’

‘Don’t,’ said Minki. ‘I’m going back to Nuremberg later today.’

‘You can’t go – not yet,’ replied Leila.

‘I can, and I must. I have to put this behind me. Get on with my life…work.’

‘But Minki—’ Leila persisted.

‘No – don’t try to argue with me. I’ll be all right, really. Go on honeymoon with Viktor, and forget about me for a while. I’ll write in a few weeks, I promise.’

Viktor was waiting in Hannah and Levi’s apartment when Leila returned from the hospital; she fell into his arms. ‘Oh, Viktor, I’m so glad to see you.’

‘How was she?’ he asked.

‘Fine…but odd.’

‘In what way odd?’

‘She just seems to want to put the whole thing behind her, as if nothing had happened. She’s going back to Nuremberg today. Oh, and she doesn’t want us to change our plans.’

‘Well,it’s her decision, I suppose.’

‘But Viktor, she’s lost her child. She must be devastated. I know I would be.’

‘The two of you are so very different. It’s one of the remarkable things about your friendship with her. You’re so unalike and yet you are as close as sisters.’ He chuckled. ‘I always knew that by marrying you, I was in some senses taking her on as well. You’ll be close to her for the rest of your lives. But she is entitled to make her own decisions, Leila. What would be right for you might not work for her. Let her go. She’ll cope. She’s strong. And she’s right – we should go on honeymoon; we deserve it. You deserve it. So, go and pack your bags. If we hurry we can still catch the afternoon train.’

PART TWO

1930–1934

The press is like a piano in the hands of the government, on which the government can play.

JOSEPH GOEBBELS, 1933

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