‘Thank you,’ Johann said as he took it.
He looked at her properly then for the first time, and he thought her smile as kindly as her gesture. She was slim, medium height, and she had a small, button nose that made her blue-grey eyes appear all the bigger as he held them in his for a moment and smiled back at her.
‘Her need is greater,’ the woman said.
‘Yes,’ Johann agreed. He looked down at the little girl standing beside them. She was still clinging to the young woman as though afraid to let go. ‘And who might you be?’ Johann asked.
The girl did not answer. She just stared up at Johann, her cheeks glistening with tears.
‘Is this your mother?’ Johann asked her, pointing to the older woman.
The girl nodded. She let go of the younger woman then and ran to her mother. Johann followed her and put the coat over the woman’s shoulders. She was bent over with her face in her hands, quietly sobbing.
‘Is there somewhere you can go?’ Johann asked her. ‘Somewhere safe. I’ve no idea how long this will last.’
The woman looked up. She shook her head.
‘Then you should hide somewhere. The attic perhaps?’
The woman nodded.
‘Good. Take your daughter. I’ll find food and water and bring it to you.’
The woman stood up. ‘Where have they taken my husband?’
Johann paused before answering. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you should ask at the police station when all this is over.’
‘What will they do to him?’
Johann gave no reply. Instead, he looked pensively at the younger woman, whose blank expression offered no more answers than he had himself.
Outside the watchmaker’s shop, having found provisions and warm clothing for the watchmaker’s wife and daughter, Johann continued to look upon the woman he had just met as she buttoned up her coat, and not for the first time that day he silently wished he had brought his own. The onset of night had chilled the air further, and he imagined the woman was glad to have it back again. Without such comforts, the cold forced Johann to cross his arms around his chest as they made their way through the forever altered streets of Munich in search of more hospitable surroundings.
‘What were you doing in there?’ Johann asked. ‘They are Jews. Why were you trying to help them?’
‘I was on my way home from a BDM meeting. We were told what was going to happen to the Jews and I just wanted to get home safely, but as I approached the watchmaker’s shop I heard a child crying. Then I saw the broken glass where the shop windows had been smashed, so I went inside. I know I shouldn’t have, but a crying child is hard to ignore, Jew or otherwise. Those two men you hit must have been close behind me.’
They stopped walking and the woman offered out her hand. ‘I’m Ava, by the way. Ava Bauer.’
Johann took her hand. It felt clammy, despite the cold. ‘Johann Langner,’ he said. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances.’
‘Yes,’ Ava agreed.
A moment later, Johann asked, ‘Do you live far from here?’
‘Forty minutes on foot. I usually ride my bicycle, but it has a flat tyre. I don’t mind. I like walking.’
‘So do I. I’ll see you safely home.’
‘But you’re already cold.’
‘I don’t care. I could do with the fresh air tonight.’
They continued walking by the pale light of the streetlamps, still heading away from the burning synagogue. The red, white and black flags and banners of the Nazi Party adorned almost every building they passed, reminding Johann of the political and military machine that was behind everything he had just witnessed, which he knew was just one of many such acts of violence and destruction currently taking place in every town and city across Germany.
‘Why did you go in there?’ Ava asked. ‘I took you for another looter when I first saw you.’
‘For similar reasons. I heard screaming. I suppose that was the child’s mother?’
‘Yes, the men started hitting her. I expect my turn would have come soon enough.’
Johann shook his head. ‘I really don’t have the stomach for what’s going on here. Give me a fair fight for something I believe in and you’ll find no man more dedicated to his duty. But this . . .’ He waved a hand back in the direction they had come from. ‘It’s certainly not my idea of soldiering.’
‘How old are you, Johann?’
‘Twenty.’
‘Why didn’t you join the Wehrmacht as soon as you had the chance? How come you stayed on in the HJ?’
‘In a word, Volker.’