The Cuckoo's Cage

Chapter Twenty-Two

Everything was blurry and hazy as Hans opened his eyes. He was breathing heavily, the sounds around him dulled as if he were deep under water. He lay there for what felt like an age, trying to figure out where he was. He was staring at a white ceiling, rows of filled beds either side of him. He realised that he must be in a hospital. He tried to sit up, but his head felt foggy and his legs heavy. After a while he managed to move the blanket and see that his leg was in a cast. He didn't remember that happening. He reached up and touched his neck lightly. He remembered that. Then it flashed into his mind. Karl was gone. He lay still, just staring upwards. His breathing deepened as he tried so hard to stop tears falling. He had failed all of his men, but he had failed Karl most of all. He adored that man. He had gone beyond a simple friend; he was family.

"Well hello stranger," said a voice beside him. A nurse set some things on his bedside table, now looking him over. "You seem more awake today."

"More awake?" Hans managed.

"You've been in and out for the last few days... entirely delirious. We've been wondering when you'd finally wake up properly."

"Where am I?" he asked.

"Still in Belgium, I'm afraid. But once you're more stable, we'll be sending you back to Germany."

"My leg..."

"A fracture," she said dismissively. "You're lucky the shot to the neck was just a deep graze. It missed the artery."

"Lucky," breathed Hans. "Did they recover Karl's body?" he asked desperately.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who Karl is."

"Obersturmführer Von Hart," he said slowly. "Can you find out for me?"

"I'll try," she said gently. "We've been getting calls to check up on you... From a Standartenführer Altmann?" Hans looked at her, his eyes pressing.

"What did he say?"

"Just asking after you. He'll likely call again soon. Shall I tell him you're awake?" Hans just nodded lightly. She then looked at something that was resting on his bedside table. "We took this from your uniform," she murmured, handing it to him. "It seemed important. I didn't want you to lose it." It was his photograph of Anna. The moment he saw it his eyes brimmed with tears.

"Thank you," he mumbled, just staring at it. The nurse nodded lightly.

"I'll send the Doctor to check on you soon," she said quietly, then made her retreat. The photograph had bloody fingerprints on it and was crumpled now. But Anna's smiling face still beamed up at him. How was she ever going to smile like that at him again? If he hadn't left the camp, her best friend would still be alive. He clasped the photograph to his chest, wishing only that he could undo every stupid mistake that had led him to this hospital bed.

***

Anna had turned down Ernst's offer to eat dinner together; she simply wasn't hungry. She stayed in her room, trying to read a book to distract herself. Now it was just her and Ernst alone in the house, she knew he would seek her out. She didn't know how she was going to bring herself to let him touch her again, but it was inevitable. She pulled out her photograph. She found, if she wasn't out by the lake with Reina, she was sitting and reminiscing about her time with Hans. She was so desperate to know if he and Karl had returned to Berlin, yet how would she ever find out? Ernst was monitoring the telephone at all times. He wasn't letting anyone else answer it. Anna supposed it was because he would be expecting Hans to call. She'd have to just listen to see if he raised his voice, and then try to telephone through on the line she had...

The dreaded knock sounded.

She stared at the door, tucking her photograph away quickly. She didn't want to answer him, but how could she simply ignore him?