16 March 1939

‘I need to complete a science project for Herr Metzger,’ I tell the librarian during lesson break. She nods and leads me through the deserted library to the science section.

‘On what subject, precisely?’ she asks.

‘Hereditary disease, and abortion,’ I say casually.

She pulls a few books from the shelves and carries them to the big table in the centre of the room.

‘That should be sufficient. If not, there are a couple more which may help you.’

‘Thank you.’ I smile at her, holding my belly in as tightly as I can.

She returns to her desk, facing me, and continues cataloguing a big pile of books.

I flick through the science manuals. There is not much of any help. It’s easy to get an abortion, it seems, if the mother is a carrier of a hereditary disease, or if she is of racially poor stock. If not, it is almost impossible. I stare at the gruesome pictures of the procedures. Metal wires, catheters, poison, bleeding to death a common complication. I find my hand on my belly as I look in horror at the illustrations.

I glance up and see the librarian is watching me.

‘Found what you are looking for?’

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Thank you so much. Very helpful.’ I snap the books shut.

Back in class, Frau Schmidt’s voice drones on but I don’t hear a single word. I’m nauseous after looking at those pictures – and from the sudden realisation that, far from wanting to end this life growing inside me, my instinct is to protect it.

*

‘Come on, Hetty, faster!’ Erna yells, holding her hand out for the baton, and jogging on the spot.

I will myself to speed up. Normally I have no problem passing Gerda or Eva, but today my legs are like lead and I can’t outpace them. We round the bend of the athletics track and I’m last, mouth open gasping for breath. I can’t seem to take in enough air. I stumble forward and thrust the baton at Erna. She snatches it and is away, sprinting on her long legs towards the finish line, closing the gap with the leaders.

My head becomes thick and dizzy. A buzz fills my ears and my vision dims, swirls and then blackness folds in…

‘Herta? Herta? Get the nurse, will you?’

Someone is holding my head, rolling me onto my side.

Instinctively I curl into a ball. My head bangs with pain and I groan.

Someone touches my shoulder, pulls at it.

‘Get off,’ I say weakly. ‘Leave me alone.’ I bat the hand away, roll up tighter, hide my midriff.

‘Hett, are you okay? Hetty, can you hear me?’ Erna’s voice, far away.

‘She’s fainted!’

‘Is she all right?’

‘She’s never done that before!’

‘Move aside, give her space!’ A loud commanding voice. ‘Herta Heinrich? Can you hear me?’

I flicker my eyes open. The school nurse’s face looms in front of me. I close them again. Please, no. She’s going to find out.