The Chosen Ones by Steve Sem-Sandberg Page A

that Doctor Jekelius’s role was notonly that of medical director of the Spiegelgrund institution but that he also acted as the right hand of Councillor Max Gundel, who was in charge of the new department of public health. It had been Gundel who drove the decision to merge the city’s many children’s homes and reform schools into one institution: Spiegelgrund was his creation. Jekelius had been charged with overseeing that all children ‘who required special treatment’ were taken to Spiegelgrund, a responsibility that led to much arduous travelling. When Jekelius was not on site, the administrative side of his work was handled by Doctor Margarethe Hübsch. Doctor Hübsch was a robustly built, middle-aged woman with severe features. She wore her blonde hair pulled back into a strict bun, dressed for work in two-piece suits with the NS-Frauenschaft pin ostentatiously placed on the lapel, and greeted people with the German Heil , as was the rule by then but which Anna Katschenka found awkward. Anna was of course used to working within a framework of discipline that meant employees knew what was expected of them and what the limitations of their rights were. She had always been content with the clarity of this. However, she had now joined an institution run on militaristic lines, as if the hospital had turned into barracks, and it made her feel ill at ease. She was unused to the way her superiors addressed the staff. Doctor Knöpfelmacher had been firm and decisive but often ready with a kind, encouraging smile. Doctor Hübsch, on the other hand, was either formal, bordering on brusque, or else given to ice-cold sarcasm. Katschenka felt insecure and, always, there was Nurse Kleinschmittger, lingering in a doorway, as if looking forward to when Katschenka would make some mistake or annoy one of the doctors. Anna lay awake night after night, arguing with herself. She couldn’t afford the risks entailed in resigning. For instance, returning to Lainz would be out of the question. There was just one way out, asfar as she could see. She told her mother one evening that she would be going out after supper to meet a friend, and set out to catch the 8 tram. That was the line she travelled on to work every morning but, this time, she stayed on board until the Alser Strasse stop and then walked briskly up the hill to Michelbeuern. It was only when she stood in front of the wide iron gate on Martinstrasse that it dawned on her quite the enormity of what she was about to do. It wasn’t just that she was being pushy (which was completely out of character, of course) but also that she clung to the belief that he would be able to put a stop to, or at least mitigate the effects of, the choice he had himself suggested that she should make when she had consulted him. The healer of souls needed no eyes. Would he be able to see that this particular post did not suit her? But she doesn’t get round to ringing the bell. Standing on the pavement opposite the gate, she is as incapable of stepping forward as of walking away. A few cars pass by. When the noise of the last one dies away she hears footsteps on the cobbled pavement. She turns. It is he. She recognises his light, vigorous gait immediately, despite the darkness. Suddenly terrified that he might catch sight of her, she slips into a gateway, the sound of footsteps grows fainter and when she dares to look he is gone. He must have turned the corner already. She runs the same way, well aware of what a pathetic figure she makes. The street in front of her is deserted. Did the ground open up and swallow him? And then she hears a car engine start. Just some fifty metres away, two powerful headlamps light up. The car glides out of the garage and, as it reaches the street, the light falls on a woman waiting on the pavement. The car stops near her, the window comes down and she bends forward to say something. It is Jekelius in the driver’s seat, Anna is certain of that. She has no idea who the