A Secret Life

Circa 1973

Debbie had just turned seven when she stood in the shopping centre listening to someone play the piano. Her Daddy told her the piano was a baby grand, used for special occasions, not for piano lessons on an upright model; the likes of which her piano teacher, Miss Judi used. Only half listening, Debbie watched on fascinated by the sounds coming from the piano. She looked at the lady who was playing; to Debbie’s mind, she was very old. To Daddy’s mind, she was old too, he suspected approaching the elderly stage. Yet her fingers, long and strong were nimble. He sensed, despite it being Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata she was playing: a piece that would gladden any heart, it did not completely gladden the heart of the pianist. She had that faraway look of someone with a secret that was too heavy to bear. He was right, but as is the nature of secrets he would not know, for sure.

Circa 1933

Helge was an accomplished pianist and musician; her career was developing well. From weddings, and social entertainment, to large concerts, concert parties and orchestras; her life as a professional musician was dreamlike. Then a man who could speak beautifully convincing the German people that he could lead them, had other ideas for the likes of Helge. He had power as the Chancellor.  She was not Jewish, but she was dark-haired and while she tried to remain positive this man’s power would shake the world, and more particularly, her world.

One evening when the concert was over, she and her companion Albert were warned that there were soldiers outside. If they left the building by the back door there was a chance they could survive. Taking her coat and bag, Helge followed Albert and cautiously left the building. After running for about twenty minutes, they found an abandoned shed. Again, they took their chances. It smelt musty, but beggars could not be choosers. They were exhausted, and, seeking each other for comfort and warmth, they lay down on an old mattress.  For an hour they were in their own little world, and, satisfied, they settled down for the night. Helge was soon asleep; Albert was wide awake, plotting. Only a few more hours, and he could reveal who he really was. He believed in the new Germany.

The birds heralded a new day. Helga awoke suddenly. She was alone; he must be somewhere.

“Albert?” she called out but there was no answer. Helge called again and heard

“Jah?” his voice was cold.

The sun was shining now, yet she could see Albert, dressed in a soldier’s uniform; another soldier was waiting with him, watching closely.

Albert saw Helge rise from the mattress. She thought he was helping her up, but instead, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched it when she moved. He pressed her arm against the wall with such force the pain was excruciating.  Helga knew instinctively her wrist and most likely her fingers were broken.

“You will never play your precious piano again Liebling” he sneered.

Helga looked at him but also noticed that to the right of her there was a shelf with a small metallic box. She lifted it cautiously, with her right hand while Albert turned to see where his colleague was going. Albert hesitated. With a strength she did not know she possessed, Helga aimed at Albert’s head and threw the metallic box: her aim was successful. He screamed, and fell to the ground, unconscious. Not stopping to investigate, Helga picked up her bag and ran as fast as her legs would carry her; heedless of who might be watching. She dared not turn back; her escape would cause concern, she had to be as far away as possible, and soon. What if Albert…?

There was no let-up from the pain, she ran anyway. She had not eaten since the midday meal the day before and was hungry, yet if she stopped, she would only think of Albert the turncoat. A little later, thirsty, she stopped when she saw the town well and assuaged her thirst. Exhausted, she tried to make her way to a seat to rest but felt faint. She knew she was falling, but strong arms caught her. He was tall, fair and quite handsome Helga judged him to be the mid to late thirties.

“Oh, you are in a hurry.” he observed; “and exhausted. Come, sit down.”

Once seated, he asked her what was happening. Naturally, she was reluctant to say.

“I'm sorry.” he said “ My name is Daniel Hopper. I am English and I am a doctor, here on holiday. Can I look at your arm?”

He examined the wrist., clearly it needed attention and only in his quarters in a small sailing vessel.

“I should get you back to the boat. I can treat…”

She froze both at the thought of a boat and the man behind Daniel. He was Albert’s companion early that morning.

“Guten Abend,” he said pleasantly. “Papers bitte!”

Daniel produced his, the soldier studied them and nodded then he looked at Helga. Almost on cue, Daniel responded.

“Ah, darling you put them in my bag.  See here!” Daniel turned back to the soldier “Mein hausfrau.”

The soldier looked at the papers, eyeing Helge trying to convey his intention then handed them back to Daniel.

“Danke,” he said and walked on. The soldier recognised Helge, but knowing what would be in store for her was she found he chose to let the matter pass. He could keep a secret, just not too often.

“Are you rested enough to walk to the river?” Daniel asked, “I’m afraid we have to hurry.”

She managed it but, he carried her into the boat and escorted her to the inner cabin

“You don’t know me.” said Helge “I could be anybody.”

Daniel smiled “I do; you are Helge Holm, the pianist. I saw you at the concert last night I also saw you with a man running out of the building. I hoped you would be safe”

He produced an ID paper. Helge looked at the picture of a young dark woman, the resemblance to Helge, took her breath away.

“That was the love of my life” Daniel explained “she died in my arms before I could marry her. This is the reason I am going back to England. What is your story Helge the real story?”

In tears and unable to hide her fear Helge told him. He nodded.

“I am not going to report you, Helge but just in case they are looking for you I suggest you flee with me, Mary is not going to need these papers, and you look like her. Until it is safe, adopt her identity. You can’t play the piano at the moment. I will look after your hand. As I see it you have no choice particularly if Albert has died.”

He watched her like a hawk, nursing her; something akin to love developed. One night, Daniel proposed to Helge twice. The first being marriage, the second that since there was an enquiry in her hometown about the injured soldier, Helge Holm was a person of interest. She needed to become Mary.   Shortly no one would question her background because she would be Mrs Daniel Hopper. Despite the threat of war and the bombing in the UK, Mary Hopper would be safe. She would live the life of a country doctor’s wife. She had no need to work and when her hand healed Daniel would buy her a piano, which opened doors, just not the ones of her dreams. Now Mary Hopper, who once dreamed of being a great pianist had developed her interest but never rose to fame.

She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that the life she wanted was not meant for her. She had no interest in returning to Germany though the war was long over and Germany had to lick her wounds after Hitler’s demise. She knew because Daniel had found out, that Albert had not died by her hand, but he did take his own life when his world crumbled. The unnamed soldier took a risk for her, she had cause to be grateful.

Now in the shopping centre, Mary or Helge as she really was, played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, written as a romantic piece in the period known as the Classic era. It was one of her favourite pieces of music, and also one of Daniel’s. She had performed it on the fateful night she escaped, tyranny into safe mediocrity. Her husband was watching her closely while he talked to a young man with his little girl. They approached her when she finished.

“Darling.” said Daniel ‘this is Debbie.  She has never seen a baby grand before.”

Mary smiled at the young man and at Debbie.

“Come darling.” Mary said in a soft almost English voice to Debbie, “sit beside me for a while.”

With those words, Debbie began her own journey in music. She was always grateful for Mrs Hopper’s encouragement. What encouragement you ask?

Ah now that too is a secret.