‘Let’s find somewhere better,’ Annaliese insisted, already on her way. Effi went after her, Rosa’s hand held tight in her own.
Another shell landed behind them, and this time there were human screams as well. The entrance to the alley was a wall of flames.
They emerged into a small and apparently deserted mews. A garage with open doors looked inviting, but offered no real protection. They hurried on down the narrow street, Effi conscious that they were heading south, and probably towards the Russians. The shell-fire seemed to have stopped, and she was wondering whether they should walk back towards the canal, or at least look for a road leading west, when she saw the car peeking out of its garage.
It was a black Hanomag, like the one that John had owned, the one in which he’d taught her to drive. She told Annaliese to wait, put down the suitcase, and went to inspect it. It had diplomatic plates, which was hardly surprising in an area known for its embassies.
‘You don’t suppose it has any petrol?’ Annaliese asked at her shoulder.
‘We have no key,’ Effi reminded her. Squeezing in alongside the driver’s door, she lowered the handle. It opened, but there the miracles ceased. There was nothing in the ignition.
Effi’s face fell, but Annaliese was smiling. ‘Gerd was a mechanic,’ she said impatiently. ‘I can start a car without a key if there’s any fuel in its tank. Here are some matches. Have a look at the gauge.’
Effi struck one, and tried to make sense of the instruments. ‘There might be some,’ she said hesitantly.
‘Well, get out of there and let me have a go.’
Effi did as she was told, and waited with Rosa outside the garage. ‘Can we just take a car?’ Rosa asked doubtfully.
‘As long as we bring it back,’ Effi reassured her. She had almost given up on Annaliese’s promise when the car’s engine sprang noisily to life. There was a grinding of gears, and it inched forward out of the garage, a beaming Annaliese at the wheel. ‘Your taxi, Madam!’
Effi climbed in beside her, Rosa in the back.
‘Where shall we go?’ Annaliese asked.
‘I’d like to go home,’ Effi said.
‘Me too,’ Rosa agreed from the rear.
‘And you can stay with us until it’s over,’ Effi suggested to Annaliese.
‘I’ll think about it. I might just drive on to Spandau once I’ve delivered you two. If that’s all right with you. You found the car.’
‘You’re welcome to it.’
They drove slowly down the mews, turned right at the end, and soon found themselves on Lützow Strasse. Two military lorries went by in the opposite direction, but the once-busy avenue was otherwise empty of traffic. The moonlight was strong enough to steer by, and Annaliese turned off the lights. Driving round Lützowplatz she struck two pieces of rubble in quick succession, which shook everyone up but failed to slow the Hanomag.
It was ten in the evening but felt like four in the morning. Distant explosions flared in the wing mirrors but the world ahead seemed fast asleep. They arced round the ruined Memorial Church and under the railway bridge on Hardenberg Strasse. There was a barricade up ahead, so at Effi’s suggestion Annaliese took a tight left turn and drove back down to Kant Strasse. A right fork at Savignyplatz brought them onto Grolman Strasse, which was just about passable.
‘Our place is just round the corner,’ Effi said hopefully, as they passed the ruins of the Schiller Theatre. If Grolman Strasse was anything to go by, the area had taken a pasting in her absence.
Annaliese stopped the car a prudent few metres short of the intersection, and examined the petrol gauge by the light of a struck match. It had risen slightly. ‘I’ll keep going,’ she decided. ‘It can’t be much more than five kilometres from here, and Gerd’s family could probably do with some help – they’re quite old. And if they don’t I can try and reach the Americans.’
The two women embraced, and Effi got out. Rosa primly reminded Annaliese that she had to take the car back once the war was over, and looked somewhat put out when the nurse just laughed.
She inched the car round the corner and, once reassured, accelerated out of sight.
Effi and Rosa followed. Bismarck Strasse had suffered fewer recent depredations than Grolman, and their building was still standing. This was reassuring, even though life was now lived in the shelter. Descending the steps, the first person they met was Frau Pflipsen, happily puffing on a Turkish cigarette. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked. ‘Your brother’s been here since yesterday.’
‘My brother?’ Effi echoed. ‘Which one?’ she improvised. ‘I have so many.’
‘I don’t know. He’s upstairs in your flat, I think. I’ve told him several times what a risk he’s taking, but he doesn’t seem to appreciate the danger. I don’t suppose they’ve had much bombing in Beeskow.’
‘No, probably not. I’ll go up and get him. But you stay here with Frau Pflipsen,’ she told Rosa. ‘I won’t be long.’
Effi hurried back up the steps, across the yard and into her building. It had to be Aslund, she thought. But what was he doing here? Was he on the run, after all this time? It didn’t seem likely.
She trudged wearily up the stairs, and opened the unlocked door.
It was John, sitting in the chair by the window, apparently asleep. She let out a small gasp of delight. She couldn’t believe it. Where had he come from? And how? She rushed towards him.
As she placed her hands on his shoulders his eyes opened.
‘Effi,’ he said, as if everything was right with the world. She looked thinner, exhausted, about ten years older. He had never seen anything half so beautiful.
He stood up, and they dissolved into each other’s arms.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked after a few moments.
‘Zarah told me where you lived.’
‘But she doesn’t…’
‘She saw you in the street once and followed you. She needed to know where you lived.’
Effi shook her head in amazement. ‘But how did you find Zarah? How did you get to Berlin?’
The Russians brought me. Would you believe I jumped from a plane out beyond Gatow?
She couldn’t help laughing. ‘Oh John, this is so wonderful.’
‘I had to get to you,’ he said simply. They stood there, hands on each other’s shoulders, staring into each other’s eyes.
‘I saw Paul yesterday,’ Effi said.
He gripped her shoulders a little tighter. ‘Where? Is he okay?’
‘It was in the big shelter at Potsdam Station. He was in the hospital, but he wasn’t badly hurt – just a concussion. He’s in uniform, of course, but he’d lost touch with his unit. Some SS bastards told him to report in at the Zoo Bunker, and I suppose he’s still there.’
Russell’s elation was edged with panic – his son was alive, but still at risk. And only a couple of kilometres away. ‘How did he seem?’
Effi grimaced. ‘It’s hard to say. He was the same old Paul, and he wasn’t. He’s so much bigger than I remember, but that’s… he seemed overwhelmed, but what young man wouldn’t be after what they’ve all been through? You know that Ilse and Matthias were killed?’
‘No, no I didn’t. When? How?’
‘Last year in a car accident. Out in the country. They reached the crest of a hill at the same moment as an army lorry. They were both killed outright.’