The German Nurse

by M. J. Hollows

  When he got to the cinema he had to find the correct entrance, not just because of his ticket, but because the German audiences and native audiences had been split to prevent unrest. The Germans sat on one side, with exclusive access to the balcony, and the Islanders sat on the other. To enter through the wrong entrance would only cause trouble he didn’t want. He didn’t even really want to be seen there at all.

  Just as he was checking the flyer to see where he should go, he bumped into a grey shape and turned immediately to say his apologies.

  ‘Jack?’ the shape asked, as Jack recognised Henrik’s voice and felt a wave of relief that it was at least a German he knew, and one he was partially friendly with. Since they had first met, when they were searching for British soldiers, they had met again a few times. Through their conversations they had come to know each other a little better.

  ‘Hallo, Henrik,’ Jack replied, feeling on show. Henrik was not alone.

  ‘I believe you know, Beth?’ Henrik asked, nodding towards the woman who was holding on to his arm. Beth was wearing a light grey evening dress that sparkled in the lights of the theatre entrance. It looked more expensive than she could have afforded. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red, which was visible even below her rouge.

  He nodded, and they fell into an awkward silence.

  ‘I did not expect to see you here,’ Henrik continued, oblivious to their discomfort. ‘I did not think of it as your kind of thing.’

  Jack shrugged, then realised that wouldn’t be enough of an explanation for Henrik. ‘It’s not really, I have to admit. But I thought I should come and see what it was like. See what the fuss is all about.’

  Henrik made a hmmm noise, apparently unsatisfied with Jack’s explanation. ‘There is not much here that would change your opinion of us, Jack,’ he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘If you were anyone else I would advise you not to take any of this seriously.’

  With that he swept a well-manicured hand at the regalia. ‘However,’ he continued, ‘I know that you are more intelligent than that. You had seen through the drama and the glory before the first time we had met. You will not like what you see tonight, but I will not say any more than that.’

  He gestured for Jack to continue towards the cinema. He lowered his voice a fraction. ‘If I were to say any more, it would be dangerous. You must make up your own mind. You are your own man, as am I.’ Jack thought he suspected a faint smile at Henrik’s words, but he couldn’t be sure. ‘I am here because it is required of me, but you have a choice, Jack. There is always a choice.’

  Henrik nodded to Jack and indicated the way to Beth, as they walked over to the ever-smiling Gerhart. As they walked away Beth looked over her shoulder at Jack, her face still red. Jack walked the other way into the cinema, refusing to acknowledge her. She had made her decision and the consequences were her own.

  Inside the lobby, they had placed a portrait of the Führer above the doors to the auditorium. From there Adolf Hitler looked down on them. Jack felt that the man was trying to act like some kind of monarch, but he didn’t have the look to pass it off. Of course, voicing that sentiment would not be wise. The Germans were fanatical, showing almost religious observance to their Führer. They treated him more like a god than a political leader. Jack had read a bit of the man’s book Mein Kampf, but had thrown it away after a few pages. There was something about his self-importance. Not to mention the war he had started.

  There was a smell of stale sweat, which reminded Jack very much of the inner workings of the police station. Soldiers, grease, and firearms. Even when they had dressed up, the smell was unavoidable. A German greeted his fellow officers under the Führer’s portrait. Once Jack had got his ticket, he was shown to the right-hand side and up a set of stairs to the double doors that led to the seating. Jack was surprised to see around a hundred or so other locals already sitting there awaiting the showing. He found a seat near the side, as far away from the Germans as he could get. The cushioned seat was somehow comforting and he sank back into it, as if it would protect him from being seen. He didn’t know what he was doing there. As he looked over at the Germans he made eye contact with Beth just as the lights dimmed and a fanfare indicated the start of the film. At first they were shown a news reel prepared by the German authorities. The black and white images of other parts of the Reich flickered across the screen, followed by a recording of a speech by the Führer.

  The film reel stretched and there was a faint squeal as the projector was changed over to the main feature. The opening of the film was impressive in its style. People lined the streets of what he assumed was a nineteenth-century German city, awaiting the coronation of some duke. He hadn’t seen so many actors in a film before and the production had clearly done their work. He sat up in his chair. Jack couldn’t understand what was being said, even though he recognised the odd word. But due to the production of the film, he could follow what was happening. The plot involved the duke making an agreement with a Jewish jewel trader called Süss. As far as Jack could tell Süss was using his power over the duke to change the rules for Jews in the city, and to pursue a woman who apparently had no interest in him. Jack tried to follow this for some time. At one point, the duke died and the Jew was arrested and shown to be a despicable human, perverting the minds of the duke and his followers.

  Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he looked around the other cinemagoers. What is this? he thought, watching on in horror. His horror was not directed at the film, which was crude and obvious, but the other audience members. They sat there enraptured by it, some even clapped when Süss was arrested. How could anyone fall for this? The argument wasn’t even compelling; it was bordering on farce. Jack thought of Johanna and knew that the reality couldn’t be further from what he was seeing in this film. She was beautiful, not just in appearance, but in character. Yet still people were enamoured, there was cheering and whooping as Süss got what they felt he deserved. There was a euphoria attached to the downfall of this ‘beast’, and Jack could only think one thing: compassion was dead.

  Finally he understood some of what Johanna felt when he thought of these people. They would never see her as anything more than subhuman. There was a sickness at the heart of the Reich, and it wasn’t the Jews.

  He wanted to leave, but he felt trapped. He had a sudden feeling of what it must have been like for Johanna, what she must have gone through. Sweat poured down his temples, but it wasn’t from the heat inside the cinema. He shuffled in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. He couldn’t move, couldn’t go anywhere. He was trapped.

  *

  17 March 1941

  Jack’s spoon hit the plate as the clock tolled eight-fifteen in the morning. The time had come, and Jack could think of nothing else. Somewhere in Jersey a shot rang out in the garden. Another member of the resistance against the Nazi Reich drew their last breath, preceded by the words, ‘Viva dieu. Viva la France!’

  Jack wasn’t around to hear it, safe in his own home, but it still cut through his heart like a knife. The knowledge of the execution was enough to scar his soul. He was growing tired of being unable to do anything to stop what was happening, and each time the anger grew within him. Every time he thought about Henry and the soldiers, wondering what had happened to them, Jack’s heart sank. Feeling sorry for themselves was a luxury those men no longer had. Had they suffered the same fate as the French Resistance? Sooner or later Jack would have to make a difference or suffer the same fate as François Scornet, a man whose only crime was landing on the wrong beach. He had to keep Johanna as far away from harm as possible. Something had changed in Jack, but he didn’t yet know what it was.

  Chapter 19

  20 April 1941

  ‘Jack? Come quick.’ His mother’s voice was somewhere between a shrill scream and desperation. Even in her darkest moments, he hadn’t heard her speaking like that. He let the front door shut behind him, eliciting its usual squeal.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he calle
d, heading from the corridor in the direction of her voice. His mind rushed with the possibilities, each one worse than the last. His stomach was in his mouth and he found it difficult to talk. Had she hurt herself somehow? Would he be able to help? She was speaking, so there was that at least. He forced himself to think happy thoughts, but her voice came from his grandparents’ room. The door was wide open when he reached it, which was unusual in and of itself, but weirder still was the fact that his mother knelt by the bed, almost leaning over it. Jack stumbled across the doorway.

  His grandfather’s breathing was shallow, his skin pale and clammy. The skin around his eyes was red, almost like a rash. His eyes were closed, as if he was asleep, but Jack could tell he was in great pain. His mother held his hand in hers, and Jack thought then how small it looked.

  ‘Grandpa? I’ll telephone for a doctor,’ Jack said, turning to leave the room. If he wasn’t in there, then it couldn’t be happening.

  ‘No,’ his mother whispered, stopping him dead in his tracks. ‘There’s no need.’

  He knelt on the floor close to her and took hold of both of their hands. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, speaking softly, so as not to wake his grandfather.

  ‘It’s too late.’ She spoke with a sudden calm, as if she was resigned to it. His grandfather’s chest was no longer rising with breath. He had stopped breathing. Jack felt for a pulse on his wrist, but there was nothing. A single tear dropped down his mother’s cheek, onto the bedsheets. ‘He’s gone,’ she said, her voice a detached monotone.

  There was a sigh from across the bed where his grandmother lay next to her husband. Her body shook as she sobbed to herself, words failing to form on her mouth as she sat closer to the man she had been with all these years. Jack searched for something to say, but the words wouldn’t come. What could he possibly say to console these two women who had lost the most important man in their lives?

  Jack wondered if perhaps his mother had expected this to happen, even when Jack had no idea. He had known that his grandfather had been ill, but they hadn’t really spoken about it these past few months. They had been told by the doctor that it wouldn’t really affect his day-to-day life, but now that seemed like a lie. All the while the cough had been getting worse, but since the occupation Jack had been too absorbed in himself, too busy to pay much attention to his family. He felt no small amount of guilt for that.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, searching for the right words. ‘I had no idea. I should have taken him to the doctor sooner.’

  His mother took a firmer grip of his hand, and shook her head. He knew that before long she would sink back into herself again.

  ‘There was nothing you could have done,’ she said. The tone of her voice had shifted again, back to the way she had spoken to him when he was a child. ‘It’s everything that’s happened. It was too much for him. He wasn’t eating; he wanted to make sure that we all had enough. It would have happened sooner or later.’

  She looked up at him for the first time and her eyes were red with tears. ‘You can go and telephone the doctor now; they’ll need to know. I’ll see to Grandma.’

  She let go of his hand and wiped the back of it across her face. All the movement did was release more tears from her eyes and they made the rouge on her cheeks run in clogged streams. She tried to force a smile, but it was more of a grimace. The smile dropped as she walked around the bed and took the smaller woman up in her arms. They sat together, gently rocking in their grief. For some reason Jack felt completely detached, as if he was merely an observer looking on without permission. He wanted to reach out to them, but thought it was best to let them come to terms with it on their own. He would talk to Johanna about it. She would know what to say, would provide him some comfort.

  He took a long look at the man lying on the bed, the man who had been a sort of father figure to him, told him stories in an attempt to help Jack understand the world. In death he looked different, smaller certainly, but as if he had never lived at all, as if he was some kind of myth. He realised then that the man’s strength had left him years ago. Jack tried to find a mental image of a younger grandfather, one full of life as he had been when Jack was little, but Jack couldn’t manage it. His grandpa had been declining for a long time, and the German occupation had taken that final spark from him. Jack cried then, realising what it was that he had lost. He had never really had many men in his life, and he had finally lost the one who had meant something to him.

  He left the room in silence, not sure whether his mother and grandmother saw him go. He didn’t know what he was going to tell the doctor, but it had to be done. Jack would have to go along the road to the only house with a telephone, the house that Nicholas lived in, and ask to use it. His legs took him there automatically and as the door opened he heard himself explain what had happened as if from a great distance. Nicholas’s mother was like a phantom, as she led him to the telephone. He picked up the receiver and placed it to his ear. He suppressed a sob before the tone told him that it was connecting to the operator.

  *

  He wanted to be anywhere, anywhere but the house. A cloud hung over it now and it would never be the same. His legs took him to the only place he could bear to be, down into the High Street of St Peter Port and up the stairs he had come to know so well. He didn’t see the people he passed, ghosts, pale spectres in his peripheral vision. The door was locked this time, and somewhere deep inside himself he was glad of that fact. She was safe at least.

  He knocked and waited. A few moments later Johanna answered the door. ‘Jack?’

  She looked surprised to see him. Again, he couldn’t find the words.

  ‘My grandfather died today,’ he said, cringing about how abrupt it sounded. Johanna looked as if she had been punched, but then Jack supposed that must have been how he had looked when he had seen his grandfather pass.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked, a hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

  So he told her, recounting how he had arrived at the house and what he had found there. ‘Doctor Abbott said he had pneumonia in his lungs. That there was nothing we could have done.’

  ‘Oh, that’s awful, I am so sorry.’ She rushed to him, putting her arms around him and pulling him closer. She kissed him on the cheek and he closed his eyes. He wanted to kiss her back, but it didn’t feel appropriate in the moment, not with what had happened. She pulled away, sensing his reluctance.

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said, not really meaning it, but not knowing how else to articulate his feelings. He had thought it would be easier with Johanna. He didn’t want to overload her, nor did he want her to feel sorry for him. If anything, he just wanted things to be normal.

  ‘I only met him that one time at Christmas,’ Johanna said, filling the silence between them. ‘But he was a lovely, sweet man. How is your mother coping? Your grandmother?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied, honestly. ‘Mum doted on her father even though they had drifted apart these past few years. But I don’t know, she was different.’

  ‘Different?’

  ‘Yes.’ He pulled away so that he could look at her while he was talking. ‘She seemed more focused than I had seen her in years, as if caring for someone else gave her something to concentrate on, something to live for.’

  ‘But what about now? Is she not upset?’

  ‘Yes, of course. When I left the house it was clear she had been crying. She was sitting in their room with my grandmother. Neither of them were talking.’

  ‘As you would expect,’ she added, nodding.

  ‘Yes, but not quite. My mum was quiet, but not in her usual way. It was like she was being reflective, keeping an eye on her mother and thinking about her father. I could understand how she was feeling for once.’

  Once again, Jack wondered what had happened to Johanna’s family and the brother she had once mentioned, but it was not the time to ask.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have dropped this on you like that. I k
now you suffered with your own family. I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘Jack Godwin.’ She had almost picked up the Guernsey accent in the way she said his name. She reached out and put her hands either side of his head and looked him in the eye. He was used to being the one to comfort and reassure her, but her presence was more than welcome. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘You can always speak to me, always be honest with me. I’ll never judge. I love you.’

  He tried to repeat the words back to her, but in that moment he was incapable. For some reason it felt like a betrayal. He didn’t see the expression on her face as they held each other, fighting against the darkness threatening to overwhelm them.

  Chapter 20

  22 June 1941

  It had been another long shift and Jack was ready to go home, but David had insisted that the pair of them meet for a drink, as he wanted to cheer Jack up. Jack’s grandfather’s funeral had been a small affair. He had few friends left on the island, so Jack, his mother, and grandmother had sat on their own at the front of the chapel as the vicar read out the service. Jack and his mother had sat there in stony silence while his grandmother had broken down. He wanted to have a pint in memory of his grandfather, who had, before he became ill, loved a drink and a story as much as any man.

  Their usual was The Prince of Wales, across the road from the police station and as convenient as any other. Some might have thought that it was a policemen’s pub, but that really wasn’t the case. It was frequented by locals from all walks of life, from dockhands to shop workers. That was before the Germans restricted the sale of spirits, and implemented the curfew.