Free Chocolate Cake With Hitler by Emma Craigie

are ignorant people in this town,’ she said. ‘People who believe that God sends illness to punish evil. If I tell them it is my fault that you’re a cripple, they can call us stupid, they can call us careless, but they can’t call us evil.’
    “When I was ten my mother found a doctor who thought that he could cure my foot by an operation to reshape it. The bone would be broken and reset straight. I would be able to walk normally.
    “After the operation I had three weeks’ rest in the hospital. I was not allowed to leave my bed. I thought I would die of boredom, but my godmother and aunt Christina came to visit me on the second day and she brought me a present which quite honestly changed my life. It was a book of fairy tales. I had never read a fairy tale before – now I devoured them – Hansel and Gretl, Snow White and Rose Red, Rapunzel… I read them and reread them. These stories awakened my love of reading. I asked the nurses to bring me anything they could find for me to read – even old newspapers, I didn’t care if I could understand or not. I just wanted to read. My father immediately realised that my love of reading could be a great advantage, and he brought me an encyclopaedia. I read it from cover to cover and, when at last I returned to school, I reaped the rewards. Suddenly I was a clever boy. I knew more than anyone else in the class. I was no longer just a sad cripple. I wassomeone to respect, someone who could help the other boys with their homework, someone the teachers liked. At last, I had a future. The operation, of course, had been a failure.”

    In Berlin we used to have a maid called Gerda. She was one of those people who always look a bit grubby no matter how hard they try. It used to drive Mummy mad. Strands of hair would always escape her bun. Her stockings would always ladder. Her fingernails were always dirty. Mummy said she was a slut and had to be kept out of sight of guests; she just did fires and cleaning , but Mummy kept Gerda because she was strong and could get a better shine on the brass than any of the other maids. We all liked Gerda because if no one else was around she would let us do things that were normally forbidden – like bouncing on beds – or she’d sneak us up biscuits from the kitchen, even if it was just before lunch and we were supposed to be saving our appetites. I always felt a bit awkward, half glad to have the treat, yet feeling guilty that we were disobeying Mummy behind her back, but the little ones simply adored her, especially Hilde.
    One day we were playing in the dining room and we heard terrible screaming coming from the kitchen. Nanny came in and shooed us up to our bedroom. She wouldn’t tell us a thing. She wasn’t one of my favouritenannies that one. Very thin and screechy. The next day there was no sign of Gerda and we never saw her again.
    No one would tell me what had happened. I heard Nanny saying that she’d brought it on herself, falling for a Jew boy – and personally she thought it was a good thing that Mr. Goebbels was clearing Berlin of these undesirable elements. We got a new maid, Elvira, and her hair was so tidy that you could see the comb marks in it. I heard her telling Nanny that there was no way she was going to lose her head over a boy and stick it in an oven. I had this image of Gerda cutting off her head and cooking it. I begged Cook to explain what had happened, but she would only tell me that Gerda was fine, I wasn’t to worry, but she was a silly girl and Mummy was quite right to send her packing. “We can’t be having any more dramatics.” All Mummy would say was that Gerda was a weak and selfish girl and we were better off without her. Weak was the one thing I thought Gerda wasn’t.

    I remember Heide being born. It was late at night and we were all in bed. It was Papa’s birthday and he was having a party downstairs. Loud gramophone music and loud laughter, Papa’s laughter being the loudest of all. Earlier