Those Who Save Us Read Online Free PDF

the kitchen; if asked prior to this, Anna would have said that Gerhard might not know even where the icebox is.
    Anna!
    Coming, Vati.
    Anna hurries into the house and finds Gerhard standing in the downstairs WC.
    Why are there no fresh handtowels? he demands, shaking a fistful of linens at her.
    I’m sorry, Vati. I laundered those just last Sunday—
    This is appalling, Gerhard says. They must be done again. Starched. And ironed.
    He throws the towels at Anna’s feet.
    Yes, Vati, she says, stooping to collect them. I’ll do it as soon as I get back from the—And where is my best suit?
    In your closet, Vati.
    Pressed? Brushed?
    Yes—
    My good shoes? Are they shined?
    Yes, Vati, they’re upstairs as well.
    Humph, says Gerhard.
    He comes out into the hallway and glowers about, hands on hips, at the entrances to the library, the drawing room, the dining room, at the chandelier overhead.
    After you go to the market, you must ensure that everything in this house is spotless. Spotless, do you understand? No pushing dirt under the rugs, Miss.
    Why, Vati, I would never—
    Gerhard rakes a hand through his thinning hair. In his atypical dishabille —he is still in pajamas—he reminds Anna of a big bear disgruntled at being awakened too soon.
    Where is my breakfast? he demands.
    I’ll get it right away, Vati.
    Very good, says Gerhard.
    He pinches Anna’s cheek and strides off in the direction of his study. A moment later Anna hears him burst into song, a snatch of the Pilgrim’s Chorus from Wagner’s Tannhäuser, bellowed at the top of his lungs.
    Anna sneaks back upstairs and dresses hastily, then returns to the kitchen and adds to the bread a boiled egg and some cheese that has escaped her father’s notice. Putting this on a tray with a pot of tea, she brings it to Gerhard’s office.
    Ah, thank you, Anchen, he says, rubbing his hands. That looks lovely. Even as you do this morning, my dear.
    Anna sets the food on her father’s desk and retreats to the doorway. She has learned to be wariest of him when he is smiling.
    Will there be anything else? she asks, eyes on her shoes.
    Gerhard slices the top off the egg and eats it with a mouthful of bread.
    We will be having guests for dinner, he says, spraying crumbs onto the blotter in his enthusiasm, very important fellows on whom I must make the best possible impression. Everything, down to the last detail, must be perfect. Do you understand?
    Anna nods.
    Gerhard flutters his fingers: dismissed. Anna walks from the room as quickly as she can without actually running, leaving Gerhard to hum and mumble as he chews.
    Tulips, he calls after her. Tulips are in season, aren’t they? If you get to the market fast enough, you might be able to get a few bunches . . .
    Anna patters rapidly down the staircase, pausing only to grab her net shopping bag and coat from the rack near the door. Safely out on the drive, she looks back over her shoulder at the Elternhaus, her childhood home: such a respectable-looking place, with its heavy stone foundation and half-timbered upper stories. One would never suspect its owner to be so volatile. Anna glances at the window of Gerhard’s study and hurries down the road before he can throw it open to shout further instruction.
    Once the house is out of sight around the bend, Anna repins her hat, which she has crammed onto her head at a crazy angle in her haste, and slows her pace. This is her favorite part of the day, these hours devoted to her errands, the only time she has to herself. During the journey into Weimar and back, Gerhard and his requirements are conspicuously absent, and Anna dawdles along indulging in her own daydreams. Until recently, these have been of the vaguest sort, centering primarily on the day Anna might escape her father’s house to live with whatever husband he has chosen for her. Gerhard has exposed her over the past few years to a variety of candidates, but in Anna’s mind the face of her spouse remains indistinct. Not