“I’ve heard that for years and it never seems to end.” Sophia sighed.
“It will end, Sophia, I swear, and you must believe it. And then, when it’s over, and I’ve found a place we can be, I’ll come to find you and our child.”
“Please don’t leave me! I cannot bear it without you, please …” The words that even she knew were fruitless were muffled as she buried her face in his warm chest.
“It’s only for a few more months, and you must hold on. Be strong for the baby. And, one day, we’ll sit with him and tell him of the bravery his mother showed to bring him into the world. Sophia”—Frederik kissed her forehead, nose, and lips tenderly—“I said I’d come to find you this time and I have. I will not let you down in the future. Believe me.”
“I believe you. So let us talk of happier subjects. Tell me about your childhood,” Sophia suggested, suddenly desperate to glean all the information she could of the man she loved—the father of her child.
“I grew up in East Prussia, in a small village named Charlottenruhe.” Frederik closed his eyes and smiled as he pictured it. “We were lucky, for our family lived in a beautiful Schloss, surrounded by the many acres of fertile land that we owned and farmed. East Prussia was known as the Corn Chamber, for it had hundreds of miles of land on which crops grew. And from that, we who lived there became prosperous. I had a beautiful childhood, wanting for nothing, loved by both my parents, and blessed with an excellent education. Perhaps the only trouble I had was from my brother, who resented me from the start.”
“Two brothers, born an hour apart, brought up in the same family, and yet you’re so very different.” Sophia patted her tummy. “I can only hope our little one takes after his father, not his uncle. Where did you go when you left school?”
“Falk went straight into the army and I went to university in Dresden to study politics and philosophy. It was an interesting moment in time—the Führer had just come to power. After years of poverty for so many Germans since the end of the First World War, Hitler began making reforms to provide wealth and a better standard of living for his citizens. Like the rest of the young radical thinkers, and with a particular interest in politics because of my degree, I became swept up in the excitement.” Frederik sighed. “You won’t want to hear this, Sophia, but in the first years that Hitler became chancellor, he made a lot of changes for the better, and his ideas to build our nation into a strong economic and industrial international force were enticing. I went to one of his rallies in Nuremberg, and the atmosphere was incredible. The Führer had a magnificence, a charisma that made him irresistible to a downtrodden nation. And when he spoke, we believed every word of it. He offered us hope for the future and we worshipped him. I, like the rest of my friends, hurried to sign up to his party.”
“I see.” Sophia shuddered. “So how did it change?”
“Well”—Frederik searched for the words in his exhausted mind to try to explain—“it’s hard for you and me to imagine the thoughts of millions of people hanging on every word we utter, to be the subject of such frenzied adoration, with hardly a dissenting voice among them. Surely we would feel omnipotent, a God?”
“I understand, yes,” murmured Sophia into his shoulder.
“Even before the war began, I was horrified at what he was doing to the Jews in Germany, and the way he was outlawing religion. I’m a Christian, as you know, a fact I had to keep hidden for my own safety. But by that time, I’d already been chosen to join the intelligence service. I had no choice, Sophia. I would have been shot if I’d refused.”
“My Frederik, what you have suffered.” Sophia’s eyes were full of tears.
“My suffering is nothing compared to thirteen-year-old boys who have a gun forced into their hands to kill for a cause they don’t even understand!” Frederik began to weep too. “And I too, through my actions, knowingly sent people to their deaths. You don’t know the terrible things I’ve done … God forgive me for them. And you, Sophia”—Frederik looked at her with agonized eyes—“how can you forgive me? How can I forgive myself?”
“Frederik, please …”
“Yes, you’re right, enough of that now,” he murmured, caressing her hair with his lips. “Down here with you, I finally feel safe and peaceful. And if I died right now, I’d die happy.”
Frederik settled back down next to Sophia and looked up at the reflection of the oil lamp on the darkened ceiling. “I think I’ll remember this night for always. I understand that paradise is not being in a beautiful place like the Garden of Eden as the Bible suggests, or amassing great wealth to provide power and status. Those things are only outer beauty and mean nothing. For here I am, in a damp, dark cellar, already sentenced to death. Yet, with you in my arms, I’m at peace.” Frederik gave a sob of emotion. “My soul is in paradise because I’m with you.”
“Frederik,” Sophia begged, “please, hold me like you can never let me go.”
• • •
The residents of the de la Martinières château awoke to a soft Provençal dawn. The occupants above the ground prowled nervously, and those below lay wakeful too, dreading the sun rising in the sky.
• • •
In London, at first light, Édouard de la Martinières was disturbed by a low and insistent hum, which turned as it passed overhead to a deafening roar. He went to the window and saw the aircraft flying in massed formation in a never-ending stream across the capital. It was the sixth of June, 1944. D-day had just begun.
• • •
At seven o’clock, Connie heard a tentative tap on the kitchen door. She opened it and saw Frederik standing there, his eyes still alight with the fire of love.
“I must leave soon, Constance. Could I trouble you for some coffee and perhaps some bread for breakfast? It may be the last food I get for a long time.”
“Of course. And I’m sure we can provide you with some fresh clothes to wear. You’re a similar height to Jacques.” Even from this distance, Connie could smell Frederik’s staleness.
“That’s most kind of you, Constance. Sophia has asked you to go to her. She says there’s a garden in which it’s safe for her to sit. She would prefer to say goodbye to me there.”
“Of course.” Connie indicated a kettle close to boiling on top of the range and the bread left over from the night before. “There are washing facilities just outside the kitchen door. I’ll bring you some clothes down.”
Jacques had cycled off to the village to buy fresh bread, so Connie went to his wardrobe, brought down a pile of clothes she thought suitable and offered them to Frederik. “Take what fits. I’ll help Sophia into the garden and then return. I’ll also see if we can give you some francs to aid your journey.”
“Constance, you’re an angel of mercy and I’ll never forget what you’ve done for Sophia and myself. Thank you.”
• • •
Connie knocked on the door of Sophia’s cellar room fifteen minutes later. She was sitting on her bed, her face serene and beautiful.
“Frederik said you would like to say goodbye to him in the garden.”
“Yes. It may be a long time before we’re together again. And I’d like to remember the last moments we have together as if both of us were simply free to go wherever we chose.”
“I understand, but you must be ready to move quickly if anyone should come.”
“Of course. Now, Constance, can you make sure I have no smudges on my face and my hair is neat?”
When Connie had done her best in the dim light the small window provided, thinking that, with love lighting her face, Sophia would look beautiful without any attention, Connie led her upstairs into the walled garden and sat her at the table under the chestnut tree.
“I’ll bring Frederik here to you.”
“Thank you. It’s a beautiful morning.”
“Yes, it is.”
Connie left the garden and Sophia sat alone, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. She breathed in the scented air, recognizing the strong sme
ll of lavender planted profusely in the borders of the garden.
“Sophia.”
“You’re back so fast.” She smiled, opening her arms to greet him. “Has Constance left us alone?”
After a slight pause he said, “Yes.”
“Come and hold me, Frederik. Our time runs out.”
He did so, and Sophia breathed in his scent, different from an hour ago. She traced the familiar structure of his face and then the roughness of a strange jacket. “I think you’ve washed and Constance has provided you with new clothes.”
“Yes, she’s very kind.”
“Must you leave immediately? Perhaps we could sit here for a little longer.” She patted the chair next to her and felt for his hands as he sat down. Their grip seemed tighter than usual, his hands less calloused, probably from the soap.
“How will I know how to reach you when you leave?” she asked.
“I’ll contact you. Perhaps if you tell me where your brother is hiding, I can send a message to him too.”
“Frederik, I told you last night, I don’t know where he is. He stays away to protect me.”
“You really have no idea where he is?”
“No!” She shook her head in frustration. “Why do we talk of this when at any minute you’re leaving? Frederik, please, we have so little time left, let us talk of our plans for the future. Perhaps we should decide on a name for our child, depending on whether it’s a girl or a boy.”
“How about Falk, after his uncle?” It was the same voice, but it came from a distance. Sophia did not understand. Her arms flailed out as she searched for him.
“Where are you? Frederik? What’s happening?”
Frederik surveyed his brother, who had stood up from the chair next to Sophia and now pointed a pistol at him.
“So, you have come, Falk,” Frederik stated.
“Of course.”
“And have you brought the might of your Gestapo friends with you? Are they waiting at the entrance of the château to march me back to Germany?” Frederik asked wearily.
“No.” Falk shook his head. “I thought I would enjoy this pleasure alone. Give you one last chance to explain. After all, you are my brother. I felt it was the least I could do.”
“That’s most kind of you.” Frederik nodded. “How did you find me?”
“It would take a fool not to know where you would head. You’ve been followed for the past few weeks. I knew you would eventually lead me to the others I’m interested in questioning. For example, the young lady who sits before us. Unfortunately, she refuses to divulge the whereabouts of her brother. Although she knows where he is, of course.”
“Monsieur, I do not! He does not tell us for our own protection!” Sophia cried.
“Come now, fräulein, even a whore like you”—Falk indicated her stomach—“who has her brains elsewhere, would not expect me to believe that.” He turned his attention back to Frederik. “You know I have a warrant for your arrest in my pocket. It would be a shame if I had to kill you now to force your girlfriend to talk.”
“Perhaps you have anticipated this moment since we were children, Brother.” Frederik looked at his twin with sadness in his eyes. “And I would die happily at your hands if it wasn’t for the woman I love. If I surrender to you peacefully and accompany you back to Germany, where you can be lauded for your cleverness in hunting me down, would you spare her? I swear to you on our mother’s life, Sophia knows nothing of Édouard de la Martinières’s whereabouts. So do we have a deal?” begged Frederik. “I will come freely and give you the glory you’ve always sought, if you will spare both the woman I love and our child.”
Falk looked at his brother, then gave a harsh snort of laughter. He laughed so hard his gun wavered and he pulled himself up short. “Ah, Brother, you’re such an idealist! Those poems you used to read as a child—romantic rubbish! Your belief in God, your much-vaunted intellect and skill at philosophy, when you do not see what life is really about. Life is cold and hard and cruel. We do not possess the soul you have always talked about. We’re nothing better than ants who crawl around blindly across the planet. You have never understood reality. It’s dog eat dog in this world, Brother. Everyone for themselves. You think your little life matters—or hers? You really believe that love”—Falk spat the word out—“can conquer all? You’re deluded, Frederik, as you always have been. And now it’s time I taught you what reality is about.”
Falk’s gun swerved away from Frederik as he pointed it at Sophia.
“This is ‘reality’!”
Frederik dived in front of Sophia as a shot rang out in the quiet dawn.
And then another.
Frederik turned around, unhurt, to see if Sophia had been hit. But it was Falk who dropped to the ground. He shuddered a little, mortally wounded, as the gun fell from his fingertips. Frederik ran to him and knelt over him, looking down into his brother’s eyes, which were rolling in their sockets.
Falk opened his mouth and managed to focus on his twin. With difficulty, he formed some words.
“You won.” And with a small smile of surrender, life left him.
There was silence in the garden apart from the birds in the trees above, who still welcomed in the new day, and the sweet smell of lavender scented the air. Eventually, having closed his twin’s eyes and kissed him on the forehead, Frederik looked up.
Connie stood behind Falk, Jacques’s hunting gun still pointing at where he had been standing.
“Thank you,” Frederik mouthed to her, tears in his eyes.
“He’d earned it. And I thought it was about time I used some of my expensive training,” Connie added quietly, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I did the right thing?” Her eyes begged Frederik to approve.
He looked down at his dead brother and then turned his head to Sophia, who was ashen with shock.
“Yes,” he said, “you did. Thank you.”
Jacques appeared beside her. “Give me the gun, Constance.” He took it gently from her hands. As he did so, Connie began to shake violently. Jacques put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the chair next to Sophia.
“He’s dead?” Jacques asked Frederik, looking down at the body on the grass.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you were such an accurate shot, Constance,” said Jacques as he bent over Falk and saw the blood seeping through his uniform.
“I was trained to kill.”
“He was your brother?” said Jacques to Frederik.
“Yes. My twin.”
“I suppose many others knew of his presence here?”
“I doubt it. He wanted the glory of my capture all for himself.”
“Well, we cannot risk that he didn’t tell someone where he was going,” said Jacques. “Frederik, you must leave immediately. At the very least, anyone passing by the château may have heard the shots. Mademoiselle Sophia, you must hurry downstairs and stay there for now, while we decide what is best to do. Constance will take you.”
“Thank you,” said Sophia as Connie helped her up and the two women held on to each other for support.
Frederik left his twin’s body and walked slowly toward Connie. “I won’t let you take the blame for this. Falk came for me and it’s I who should have ended it. When his death is discovered, I wish you to say that it was I who shot him.”
“No, Frederik, I didn’t kill him just to save Sophia and you.” Connie stared into the distance. “I had reasons of my own. At least now I’ll know that no other woman will ever be subjected to what he did to me.” She lifted her eyes up to Frederik. “I’ve wished him dead for many months.”
“We must dispose of the body immediately, Frederik,” said Jacques. “I’ll need your help to dig a grave.”
“Of course.”
“Here in the walled garden is safest, so we don’t take the risk of moving him and being seen. I’ll collect the shovels. Perhaps you could remove your brother’s clothing and I’ll burn it on a bonfire,” Jacques s
uggested. “Constance, when you’ve taken Sophia down to the cellar, there’s brandy in the kitchen. Take a drink—it will help. You’re not needed here.”
After she had taken a shaken Sophia back to the cellar and assured her Frederik would be down to see her to say goodbye, Connie did as she was told. The brandy helped, although, even in the heat of the June day, she continued to shiver.
Half an hour later, Jacques arrived back at the cottage. “Falk has been buried and his uniform burned. Frederik is down in the cellar saying goodbye to Sophia and then he will leave.”
“Thank you, Jacques.”
“No, Constance, it’s us who should thank you.” Jacques looked at her with new respect. “Now, I’ll collect supplies to help Frederik on his way, and when he’s gone, we’ll talk.”
• • •
“Goodbye, my love.” Frederik held Sophia to him. “I’ll send word to you, I swear, but for now you must concentrate on your own safety and that of our child. Take advice from Jacques and Constance—they’re good people and I know they will protect you.”
“Yes.” Tears ran down Sophia’s face from her sightless eyes. She reached for the signet ring on the fifth finger of her right hand and pulled it over her swollen knuckle. “Here, take this. It has the de la Martinières insignia engraved upon it. I wish for you to have it.”
“Then you must have mine. It carries my family crest. Here, I’ll put it on your finger for you.”
Sophia held out her hand and Frederik placed it on her ring finger.
He smiled. “We’re exchanging rings, down here in this terrible place, on this terrible day. It’s not where I would choose, but it’s better than nothing. Wear that ring, Sophia, and never forget how much I love you. You will be in my heart, always.”
“And you in mine.”
“I must go.”
“Yes.”
Reluctantly, Frederik took his arms from about her, kissed her on the lips one last time, and walked toward the door. “And whatever happens, please tell our child that his father loved his mother so very much. Goodbye, Sophia.”
“Goodbye,” she whispered, “and may God go with you.”
The Lavender Garden Page 35