Jakob got the message and kept his mouth shut.
“There’s really no time to talk now, darling. Why don’t you come with me to the party? We can speak afterward.”
“Anytime you want.”
His charm wasn’t having the same effect as before. Anne had stiffened beside him, and something sharp edged her voice. “Do you have any children? It might look awfully odd if you don’t. It’s a children’s party.”
He told her about Gabi, thirteen, but looking more like eleven. Anne said she would have to do. They stopped at his house, him praying Gabi was at home. He explained everything to her as quickly and simply as he could manage and she agreed, reluctantly, to join him. She didn’t like parties, but maybe there would be sweets?
The party was at a hall in the Fürstinstrasse. In the doorway, a cheerful soldier with a silver ribbon pinned to his tunic consulted his clipboard before anyone could go in. Jakob held Gabi’s hand, expecting to have to wait with the crowd of children and adults ahead of them, but Anne forged a path to the soldier, announced she had special guests, and escorted them into the hall. To Gabi’s delight, there were vanilla crescents and cinnamon stars. Butter biscuits dented with anise. Chocolates in sparkling paper. A boy split a walnut in a nutcracker soldier. Another peeled an orange and mashed it into his face. Bewildered girls picked at Christmas crackers until a soldier showed them how to pull the ends. The girls jumped and screamed and one burst into tears. Carols were blaring from the speakers. Jakob hadn’t heard this kind of din since the Battle of the Ruhr. Maybe this was louder.
Anne was quickly surrounded by women and officers, but she eventually broke away from them, taking him by the elbow. “You’re looking lost, darling. I am dying to speak with you, but unfortunately I can’t get away quite yet. Maybe you could have a little chat with . . .” She brightened and waved at a family that had just arrived, a plump woman with ringlets carrying a baby, her husband sleek and elegant, a strange match. He was holding the hands of two blond toddlers who looked exactly like him. Anne showered the family with greetings that seemed overly gracious. The woman looked stunned and pleased, and the man, introduced as Max Hecht, greeted them coldly but politely. His wife herded the children toward the food while he hung back.
“Talk about man things while I’m gone, hm?” Anne said, and strolled to the Christmas tree on the stage.
“I suppose she means the war,” Jakob said as he offered Max a cigarette.
“Where did you serve?”
Turned out they had both been in the first thrust into Russia, and they had wintered a few kilometers from each other. But while Jakob stayed in the east, Max had gotten a ticket home. Declared too valuable to be cannon fodder, he had spent the rest of the war at the Falkenberg Iron Works. “I’m a lawyer.”
“Gesundheit.”
Max had the grace to smile, and that was a surprise. He was the kind of oily fellow Jakob had never liked—too handsome, too polished. A university man, he had the dueling scar he’d earned in one of the student clubs. When sober, those types usually had no sense of humor.
“What do you do, Herr Relling?”
“I’m a wholesaler.”
“Black market, then.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a realist. The black market is the only functioning economy we have right now. If a man makes some money off it, I don’t hold it against him. How do you know Frau Falkenberg?”
“I was a scholarship boy. I’m grateful to the family.”
Max snorted. “Aren’t we all.”
The music cut off, and a soldier announced their hostess as Anne Heath. Jakob guessed the name Falkenberg wasn’t popular with so many Allied soldiers in the room.
“Children,” Anne said in German, “welcome to our Christmas party. Everything here is just for you, for this wonderful season of peace and harmony.” She addressed the adults, a line of drab and fatigued women and men sitting at the wall. “All of us in the British community would like to welcome you. We’re happy to give your children a carefree moment of joy. Before you go, you’ll be given one present for each child to take home.” She gestured at the boxes under the tree. “Please accept some refreshment, and enjoy the celebration.”
The soldier choir struck up “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” A woman held a tray of steaming punch in