Addison

Part 1 // Six Weeks

In the grey streets of Paris, depression was clinging to the city.

France's capital had transformed dramatically in the past few weeks. Basic food such as butter, milk and potatoes were now in scarce supply, and many houses and shops had been raided or abandoned. Dirty, parentless children were running amongst crowds – but their faces weren't the only ones holding troubled expressions.

A patriotic newspaper was swimming in the gutter. The ink bled into the slushy sidewalk, as it had been trodden on numerous times. Nevertheless, the headline could still be read from a metre away: NAZIS OCCUPY NORTHERN FRANCE.

There was no mystery behind the belief that no one could be trusted anymore. Foreign soldiers prowled past people on the streets. They often said nothing – for the crude symbol beared on their uniforms spoke for them.

With Britain's closest neighbour invaded, there was no wonder spies were soon sent in.

Unfortunately for them, life expectancy was estimated to be very short.

Six weeks, in fact.

For Rhea Brandt, leaving her husband was a difficult decision.

There were many instances where she wanted to tell him where she was going, but it was too dangerous for them. The ticket to London was artfully hidden in the bottom of the desk drawer in their room. It was too risky to jeopardise herself – because if the government discovered her plans, she would be certainly dead.

The year was 1940, and on one freezing autumn night, she had left.

It had not been difficult. Rhea had deliberately kept a bottle of cheap alcohol out on the kitchen bench, knowing fully it was the first thing Klaus would reach for when he returned. His responsibilities as a member of the Party seemed an enormous burden these days. Over the past few years, her husband had changed.

Since the nation had transformed into Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler was now in complete power. There was no denying the changes compared to when they had first been married. Rhea's own parents had disowned her upon discovering her engagement to a poor German man, and was banned from visiting her younger sister. From then, Rhea had no choice but to abandon her life in England.

Her father had been outraged. To think his daughter married a German, the very people he had protected the borders against in the Great War! The shame was too much. Since then, Klaus and Rhea had struggled in the darkest days of the depression alone.

Frau Heidrich from across the street, who was a widow, had lost all the saving her dead husband had provided. Before his death, her husband owned a steady tailoring business, and because of that, they were both hated and envied.

But now the poor old woman was in the same position as everyone else. Klaus had feared their savings may disappear in the same way, hence why Rhea queued at the bank for hours and hours. And what a crowd, she thought, as lines of men and women clad in poorly fitted clothing seemed to have the same idea. She had returned shaking with cold, with a small bundle of cash under her coat. Klaus demanded it was hidden under the mattress as soon as she arrived home.

That night, they had listening to the radio broadcast. In the year of 1932, over thirty percent of the workforce was unemployed, the presenter said. It wasn't exactly the best situation in their first year of marriage, living in such a broken economy.

Klaus had turned off the radio promptly.

"I don't know how the government is still in power," he said angrily. "They don't seem to care."

Rhea could understand why he felt betrayed. Whilst she still had managed to find a job as a schoolteacher, Klaus had no success. There was nothing to be felt but humiliation when she saw him hanging about on the street, holding a sign pleading for employment.