David John - Flight from Berlin

‘You’ll excuse me,’ Lehmann said, putting on his cap. Denham had almost forgotten he was there. ‘Ralf will bring you something cold to eat. In the morning I will take you up to breakfast, and then inform Captain Pruss of my shock and bewilderment in discovering six additional passengers stowed on board…’

He gave Denham a resigned smile, then left, his face set to that distasteful task.

A minute later, there was a tap at the door. Jakob and Ilse were standing in the corridor, smiling expectantly. Ilse held on to the doorframe, still stiff from the two hours sitting in the cargo container. Denham invited them in, and they sat on the bed. A moment later Friedl appeared with a bottle of brandy and some glasses. ‘Imagine leaving the bar on this deck unattended.’

‘With so much drama,’ Jakob said in his deep, felt voice, ‘we have not yet thanked you for what you’ve done.’ The ruts of strain that lined his face seemed less pronounced, as though he was making an unexpected recovery from a long illness. ‘There is a saying in Hebrew, “Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.” We owe everything to you and to Dr Eckener,’ he said, shaking his head in wonder, ‘a man we had never met until tonight.’

‘Does it seem so odd that a stranger is kind?’ Denham said, accepting a glass. ‘I suppose it does, to an emigre from Hitler’s Germany. But when you reach America you will think the opposite: how strange that anyone might be so hateful.’

‘I expect he is in serious trouble for helping us,’ Jakob said.

‘Eckener’s fame and contacts have protected him…,’ Richard said, hiding his worry.

‘After Roland died,’ Ilse said, pushing a strand back into the silver puff of her hair, ‘I did not wish to live any longer. It was only the thought that I could not be so selfish as to leave my husband and daughter to their fates that made me face each day. And now, we’re flying away from the nightmare,’ she said, ‘in this marvellous ship.’

Jakob put his arm around her shoulder, and they were silent for a time.

Denham asked, ‘What happened to the art?’

‘We lost the paintings,’ Jakob said with a wave of his hand, ‘but we were not robbed of everything in Basel, thanks to Eleanor.’

Denham poured them each a glass.

‘Mazel tov,’ said Jakob.

‘Mazel tov,’ they said in unison.

‘As a token of our thanks,’ Jakob said, ‘Ilse and I wish to fund your honeymoon.’ Denham held up his palm and began to protest until he saw that it would make them much happier if he accepted.

‘That’s settled, then,’ said Jakob, businesslike. ‘Anywhere in the world you and Eleanor want to go.’

When they’d gone, Denham was washing his face in the basin when Hannah appeared in the door.

‘This is the party cabin tonight,’ he said. ‘Come in.’

She glided in, wearing a brushed-cotton bathrobe with a frilly nightdress hanging underneath. It must have been in the case Ilse had brought for her. Her silky chestnut hair was down, coiling and slipping around her shoulders.

‘There’s been a mix-up over the cabins,’ she said.

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Yours is next door. I’m to have this one.’

Amused, he went and knocked on Eleanor’s door.

‘Come in,’ she said in a low voice.

His fiancee lay on the bed and arched her back in a long feline stretch when she saw him.

‘This is the only way to travel.’ She sighed and switched off the reading lamp. He sat next to her on the bed, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the pale starlight reflected off the sea. She had on a silk camisole and stockings that were lacy at the top where they attached to the garter straps. Leaning down and kissing the smooth skin of her thigh, he undid one of them.

‘A generous friend of ours wants to send us on a honeymoon,’ he said. ‘Where would you like to go?’

‘Mm,’ she moaned as he kissed her again, ‘the South Pacific.’

‘A desert island?’ He undid the other strap and ran his hand up her thigh.

‘Yes. Where we can… Oh, come here.’

She pulled his head towards her and kissed him, and he lay down next to her on the narrow bed, holding tight the perfect curve of her spine.

They caressed and made love, kissing without stopping. Eventually, exhausted, they lay side by side with their feet towards the head of the bed so that they faced the window.

‘The stars seem so close I could almost reach up and swish them around,’ she said.

‘I love you,’ he said.

They were lulled to sleep by the hum of the propeller engines.

The airship had entered a cold front over the mid-Atlantic, disappointing the passengers, who’d wanted to enjoy the view from the promenade windows. Outside was a world of white, an empty dimension with no sensation of forwards movement. The ship seemed frozen in time over an invisible ocean.

With nothing to see, most of the passengers returned to their cabins, and only the little party of stowaways was breakfasting in the dining room at nine o’clock. Refreshed and rested, Friedl and Hannah chattered eagerly of their coming life in America. Jakob was telling them how Pola Negri had once fainted in his arms in the elevator at the Park Avenue Hotel, when Ilse tugged his sleeve. Marching towards them among the dining room chairs was a man of about fifty wearing brass buttons and three sleeve stripes. The white peaked cap, hostile stare, and wide, grimly set mouth gave the impression of a police commissioner. He was followed by two junior officers.

‘Oh,’ Jakob said, dapping his mouth with a napkin. ‘This must be Captain Pruss.’

‘Well now.’ The man stopped at the table and leaned towards them, his hands on the back of a chair. Looking at each of them in turn he said, ‘Whoever you are, be in no doubt of the seriousness of the offence you have committed.’ Hannah blushed scarlet and kept her eyes on her plate. ‘Whoever aided you will be discovered and dealt with. The company’s rules on stowaways require that the quartermaster confines you in a restricted area until we land.’ Ilse glanced warily at Jakob. ‘However…’ Pruss straightened up and exhaled, his displeasure giving way to an odd expression, a type of pained graciousness. ‘The response I’ve received from Dr Eckener orders me to treat you as paying passengers until the matter can be fully investigated… your names will go on the passenger list…’

Having left them in no doubt of what he thought of the order, and after Jakob had assured him he would pay the fares in full, he withdrew.

‘Oh boy,’ Friedl said, starting to laugh. ‘He was not happy.’

‘By now Heydrich will know where we are…,’ Denham said thoughtfully, looking at the white sky.

‘Oh, so what.’ Eleanor poured herself more coffee. ‘It’s too late to turn around. We’ll be in New York this time tomorrow morning.’

I n the reading room after breakfast Eleanor befriended a lady who introduced herself as Miss Mather, an elegant New Yorker in her late fifties who’d booked the passage because she abhorred ocean liners and had no sea legs. She had a delicate, Old World manner.

‘I’m a dedicated fan of air travel,’ Miss Mather said. ‘But… I simply can’t explain it. I felt a reluctance to board the Hindenburg. It was really quite overwhelming…’

‘You’ll be fine when you find your air legs,’ Eleanor assured her, but she noticed how the woman kept crossing and uncrossing her thin ankles. She seemed even less at ease when Lehmann passed and told them that the ship was battling strong headwinds. They would be twelve hours late arriving in Lakehurst.

T owards late afternoon the fog and low clouds began to lift, and cresting grey waves could be seen below, marbling the surface of the ocean.