Page 52 of The Nanny Outside the Gates

FORTY-FOUR

HALINA

Upon arriving back at the Sch?fer residence with the children, I see there are a couple of vehicles parked out in front of the house.

Neither of the cars belong to Heinrich, leaving me to wonder who I’ll find inside, and for what reason.

My chest burns, knowing Gavriel is in there, and wondering what business Ada had to tend to, and if this is the result.

“Who’s here?” Marlene asks. “Are we having friends over?”

“Some of the people your father works with,” I answer flatly.

Sweat beads on the back of my neck as I settle the carriage by the front of the house and make my way to the door.

Marlene races ahead of me and flies into the house with curiosity.

Isla is dragging her knapsack on the grass behind me, moping in my shadow.

I turn to wait for her to walk in ahead of me, spotting drivers inside the cars, both staring out the windshield in waiting.

I step inside, finding several people moving back and forth between the kitchen and the servant entrance. Ada storms out of the kitchen, taking a hard left in our direction, greeting her children with weak hugs and kisses on each cheek. “How was school, my darlings?”

Marlene begins to chatter but Ada’s mind is elsewhere as she stares at me with an undecipherable thought she must think I can read from her mind.

“What is it?” I whisper.

She grabs my arm and pulls me into the family room—the forbidden space to anyone but family.

“You and—him,” she says, peering up at the ceiling as if Gavriel is directly above her rather than on the other side of the house and in the attic, “will have the chance to—” She shifts, preparing to explain her undoing.

“Go…at eight p.m. tonight during the commandant’s speech.

I can’t do anything for you at any of the checkpoints. This is all I can offer.”

“Gavriel will have to return to Auschwitz before eight,” I tell her, delaying my thought on how in the world we will make it through a guarded checkpoint.

“I’ve arranged for him and the others to stay until the dinner is over—to serve where needed.” Gavriel can hardly stand, but I understand the options are limited. “He’s already been informed.”

Ada takes Flora from my arms and holds her against her chest with her fingers splayed across her back as if she’s holding a fragile piece of a glass—not in the way she normally holds onto Flora.

A subconscious goodbye for the one she’ll never have, perhaps.

Flora should be her in mother’s arms, not Ada’s.

“The girls need to be dressed appropriately tonight for their brief appearances.”

This is her grand solution—or so she claims. All I can do is pretend to believe her. To trust that tonight isn’t a carefully crafted trap I’ll walk into. I turn toward the staircase, gathering the girls with a wave of my hand.

“Wait,” Ada says.

I pause, turning back.

Ada takes a linen wrapped square package and hands it to me then pats the top with a silent finality.

“That boy can’t be seen in that uniform.

I have some clothes that should fit him,” she says, a tremor taking a hold of her body.

“I do hope you understand the kind of wrath I’ll face after you’ve gone missing. ”

I glance down at the bundle of clothes, realizing I hadn’t thought about Gavriel’s tell-all uniform.

“You might consider marking an end to his vengeance. It’s your life—you should have a say in how you live it.

” It pains me to offer heartfelt advice to a woman who clearly thinks she’s better than the rest of us, but I believe there is good in everybody, even if it’s been overshadowed with years of manipulation and hatred.

The only way for her to end the evil is to stop taking part, but that takes a form of courage she doesn’t have.

Ada scoffs and rolls her eyes up toward the ceiling.

“You must think I’m a fool who married for status…

Well—I was, but since then, believe me, Halina, I have tried to put an end to my situation here.

” She hisses like a snake and shakes her head.

“I should have taken the gun from Heinrich’s office when I had the chance, but it turned out my inner conscience is still alive, somehow, and I remembered who I am—who I was. That’s the real pity of my story.”

Marlene and Isla are settled for the moment, taking a rest before a long night, giving me time to see to other loose ends before getting them prepared for the dinner.

I’ve even managed to set Flora down for a nap in her crib, something she doesn’t normally cooperate with.

Ada’s words are playing repeatedly, the shock in her confession surreal, unfortunate, and yet, all too understandable.

Everything in life has a consequence and she knows this just as well as the rest of us.

I make my way upstairs before I lose the chance to check on Gavriel and find him slouched over two wooden saddles with a plank overlapping both. He has the saw locked in a slight wedge of the wood, sweating, straining, shaking to get the saw to move.

“I have clothes for you to change into,” I whisper, drawing nearer to him. His complexion is still pale and waxy. He’s on his feet though.

“How?”

“Ada gave them to me.”

“How can we trust her?” Gavriel asks, staring at the linen wrapped bundle.

“We can’t. We won’t. But you need these clothes.”

He acknowledges my words but doesn’t respond.

I don’t know if he’s managed to get any physical work done today, but if he has, I’m sure that took the remainder of whatever strength he had left.

He needed that to make it through the night.

The kapo though…if he finds Gavriel sitting rather than working, he wouldn’t make it until tonight.

“Everything is all set for tonight. We’re going to follow through with our plan at eight p.m. Ada told me she’s arranged for all prisoners to stay throughout the duration of the dinner party.

They might assign you tasks, but just before eight, you’ll need to come back up here and change into these clothes then meet me at the bottom of the attic’s stairway.

I’ll be waiting with Flora. Do you think you have the strength for this? ”

“Yes, I will do my part. I won’t let you down, Hali.”

I stare into his tired eyes, still glimmering with a hint of hope.

“You couldn’t possibly let me down, no matter what you do or don’t do,” I tell him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I have to write a letter to the commandant then prepare the girls for an appearance tonight. Will you be all right for a bit longer?”

“A letter to the commandant? You say this as if you’re joining him for tea too. What do you mean?” Gavriel’s eyes speak of amusement, confusion, and concern, all at once.

“You can trust me,” I tell him, using the same words he offered me when I arrived.

“I do. With all my heart.”

Downstairs, the air is steeped with mouthwatering aromas spilling out of the kitchen, fatty juices from a roast, fresh bread, pastries, dressed up potatoes—it’s like a dream I won’t be taking part in. I’m sure Gavriel can smell it all up in the attic too, just more torture for the starving.

Chatter is bouncing between all the walls, between hired help, slave servants like me, and prisoner laborers like Gavriel.

No one here is of the same labeled class, yet we all entered this world the same way.

It will never make sense to me. The closer we get to the start of the dinner party, the more nervous I become.

“We need more linen tablecloths, Halina,” Ada shouts from the corridor between the kitchen and the servant door.

I should have known she would find a way to assign me work rather than taking care of her children.

I move into the hallway to make my way to the washroom where the laundered table linen is stacked and pass Benson on the way, holding a tray of cooking utensils, and Rueben carrying pillars of candles out into the back yard.

I’ve only seen the two of them from a distance, never officially meeting them, but they appear to be in the same battered condition as Gavriel, maybe just not as bruised as he currently is.

Just as I turn the corner, I nearly collide with Heinrich.

I didn’t know he was home, or when he got here.

Only I’m startled. He isn’t. Nothing fazes him.

“Just the person I was looking for,” he says, his voice low, quiet amid the hustle and bustle around us.

He lifts a brown envelope, the flap already open, and waves it in the air in front of my face.

“What can I do for you, Officer Sch?fer,” I say, showing the man a form of respect he doesn’t deserve.

“If I had known the importance of the paperwork I was waiting on with regard to you, I might have asked the couriers to expedite the handling process.” My papers. My lungs stop moving. My chest threatens to cave in, and I can’t catch my breath. “This is quite an oversight, isn’t it?”

“I’m—I’m not sure what you mean,” I reply, sounding as if I already know what he’s talking about, which I believe I do.

He puckers the opening of the envelope and shuffles the papers around inside, looking into the dark hole before reaching in then slowly revealing my demise. An angry heat singes through every limb of my body as he unfolds the documents and holds them out in front of his face.

“Halina Wojic,” he reads. “Daughter of Nora Belle Wojic. No known father listed. Jewish by birth.”

Pain slices through my temples and the room begins to wobble as if I’m a spinning top, though I haven’t moved an eyelid.

He must be able to hear how hard I’m breathing.

He’s taking pleasure in this moment while I die inside.

Heinrich folds the papers back up and slides them into his coat pocket like it’s nothing more than a paper napkin.