One Last Summer (2007) (13 page)

She had the most dreadful argument with Frau Gersdoff. Apparently there is a shortage of red roses, which isn’t surprising at this time of year. Greta wanted a wreath made up of two hundred buds, but she has had to content herself with a dozen roses and a few lilies. I told her that Papa would have hated an ostentatious display, particularly during wartime, but she wouldn’t listen, and refused to discuss the funeral service Papa von Letteberg and I had arranged. I asked Mama if she approved of the hymns we had chosen but she couldn’t even speak, which was no help at all.

Wilhelm and Paul came home at lunchtime today, and now we are all dressing for the service. Irena and her parents, and Manfred, who is home on leave, are coming, and Papa and Mama von Letteberg, of course, as well as all our tenants and the workers from the estate. I don’t know who else will be there, but ever since I came upstairs I have heard cars pulling up in the courtyard and the sound of footsteps plodding through the ice and snow down the lane towards the church.

I went there this morning to look at the flowers. It was horrible to see the crypt open to receive Papa. I simply can’t bear the thought of his coffin being laid in there beside Opa and Oma’s and all the other von Datskis. I haven’t heard a word from Claus, which everyone except me finds strange. I feel cold and empty. I thought marriage would mark the end of my childhood but it didn’t. Papa was always there to love, protect and guide me. Now I am without him, I feel so burdened and so alone.

Charlotte insisted on driving the rental car into the centre of Allenstein. She headed for the old quarter of the town and parked in a quiet, wide, tree-lined street.

Laura gazed at the solidly built buildings. ‘These apartment blocks look pre-war.’

‘They are. It’s most peculiar; this street hasn’t changed in over sixty years. People and governments have come and gone, yet domestic life is still being carried on here regardless. The Mullers lived on the first floor.’ Charlotte pointed to an Art Deco block that wouldn’t have looked out of place in New York. ‘Above them were the Heines, and that one on the end above the shop was the home of the Freibergs; their father was my father’s second cousin.’

‘Did they all get out when the Russians invaded at the end of the war?’ Laura asked.

‘No. Frau Muller and her husband were never very bright, bless them. They married late and had one daughter, Nina. She was a great friend of mine. She was working in Berlin when the Russians came. I heard later that she survived the war. Her father worked for the railways. His train was scheduled to go east, and although what was left of the German army was flooding back from the advancing Russians, he insisted on sticking to the timetable he’d been issued with and drove straight towards them. His wife wouldn’t leave without him, although the neighbours begged her to. She insisted on waiting for his return.’

‘What happened?’

‘No one ever discovered Herr Muller’s fate, although we guessed it. Frau Muller was gang-raped and murdered by Russian soldiers, who threw her body into the street. A German soldier from the town who had been captured by the Russians wrote about what he’d witnessed here years later. Apparently she lay there for days.’

Laura stared at the window Charlotte had pointed to. It was difficult to imagine horrific scenes being played out in such a quiet, peaceful area. ‘And your relatives the Freibergs?’

‘Herr Freiberg was a pharmacist. He poisoned himself, his wife and four children. The oldest was twelve and considered something of a child prodigy by the tutors in the music school.’

‘I had no idea things like that happened in East Prussia at the end of the war.’ Tears started into Laura’s eyes.

‘It is so strange to be here again.’ Charlotte studied the old convent in front of the apartment block. It was exactly as she remembered; painted cream and brown with black and white garbed nuns walking up and down the steps and into the Catholic church opposite. ‘This is my home town. I knew every street, families in almost every block. Classmates, relatives, business acquaintances of my father’s; people so much a part of my everyday life I took them for granted. I feel as though I’ve woken in a nightmare where the buildings have aged and the people disappeared, yet I am still young.’ She gave Laura a rueful smile. ‘That’s the most appalling thing about old age. Inside I feel no different from when I was eighteen. And just being here makes me think that if I walk around this corner, the aches and pains in my joints will disappear and my brothers will be waiting for me in one of their new cars.’

Laura took her arm. ‘I can’t imagine enduring what you have. Seeing your home town emptied. Having to run for your life, and now coming back to find everyone gone and everything changed.’

‘Not everything.’ Charlotte glanced at the convent. ‘Time to visit the art exhibition in the castle?’

 ‘The chambermaid told me there is an excellent ice cream parlour close by. What’s that saying? “Eat as much ice cream as you can, before the doctor forbids it!” Let’s go there when we’ve seen all we want to in the castle, and order the largest sundaes they have on the menu.’

‘And afterwards?’ Laura asked.

‘Afterwards we’ll return to the hotel, have lunch and a short rest before taking one of those pony and trap rides around the lake that are advertised in reception.’

Charlotte hooked her hand into her granddaughter’s arm, and they walked slowly up the hill towards the fourteenth-century red-brick castle. She omitted to mention that the lake was the same one that bordered Grunwaldsee.

The main house was some distance from the lake, but it could be seen from a few vantage points on the bank, and she hoped to find out if the walls were still standing. She also longed to know if the small wooden summerhouse that her father had so lovingly restored for Wilhelm and Irena’s honeymoon in December 1939, and which had later served as her retreat and sanctuary during the happiest summer of her life, had survived into the new millennium.

*……*……*

MONDAY, 25 DECEMBER 1939

We laid Papa to rest in the crypt at four o’clock yesterday afternoon. The pastor was forced to restrict entrance to the church to family and close friends. Crowds stood outside in the snow, the men bare-headed to pay their respects. There were hundreds and hundreds. I think everyone in the town was there. I had no idea Papa knew so many people.

Although Mama had not left her bed since we received the telegram, she insisted on going to the church. She said that if we prevented her, she would regret not saying goodbye to Papa for the rest of her life.

The doctor allowed her to attend the service on condition she returned to bed immediately afterwards. Greta and I helped her dress and, because we were worried that she might collapse, Paul and Wilhelm walked either side of her and sat with her throughout the service. It was dreadful, following the coffin out of the house and down the lane to the church.

Brunon and five of our oldest workers carried Papa on their shoulders for his last journey. Paul and Wilhelm followed next with Mama. Greta walked with me. I felt a hand on my shoulder as we reached the church. I turned and saw Claus behind me. He looked ill. Afterwards, he told me that he had travelled non-stop for three days and nights. He was on manoeuvres when he heard the news of Papa’s death, and although his commanding officer gave him immediate permission to leave, there were problems with the trains because of the Christmas holidays.

I never thought I would write this, but it was good to have him standing beside me in church. He came into the crypt with us when Papa’s coffin was placed in it, and escorted me back to the house after the service. So many people came to pay their respects. I was grateful that Brunon’s wife, Martha, had taken it upon herself to organize the food. I have no idea where she found it, but there was tea and real coffee, and wine and brandy enough for everyone. The cakes, preserves and sandwiches the mourners ate probably took all our food ration for the next month, but it doesn’t matter. What is important is that Papa was buried with respect and the correct ceremonies.

After most of the people from the town had left, Greta and I helped Mama undress, and the doctor gave her another sedative. As Greta insisted on sitting with Mama, I went to look for Claus. He was in the dining room with Wilhelm, Paul, the Adolfs, his parents and a few relatives and close friends. He told me that he has to leave the day after Christmas. Neither he nor the twins would say very much about what is happening in Poland, but when Herr Adolf and some of the other men asked when the Wehrmacht intends to push the English out of France, they clammed up, so I suppose there will be fighting in France soon.

I knew Claus wanted to be alone with me but that was the last thing I wished for, so I went into the hall to superintend the decorating of the Christmas tree. Minna had ordered tables to be set up for the family’s Christmas presents. Mine were upstairs in my room but somehow it didn’t seem right to bring them down and lay them out in the hall on the same day we buried Papa, especially as out of respect for Papa, Brunon and I had decided to break with tradition.

Not wanting to celebrate Christmas Eve on the same day as Papa’s funeral, we arranged for the workers’ children to come in to see the tree this morning and we also opened our presents then. It was strange to have the small ceremonies – such as they were – a day late and after breakfast. Christmas will never be the same for me again.

Before she went to bed, Mama insisted that Wilhelm and Irena’s wedding should go ahead as planned, because Papa would not have wanted them to postpone it on his account.

All the time, everyone, including me, says, ‘That is what Papa would have wanted.’ We say it without thinking. I have even written it here, but when Mama began talking about the wedding, I realized that none of us could possibly know what Papa would want when he is no longer here to tell us.

I sent Minna upstairs to get my presents for everyone, but told her to hide them in the sewing room until Christmas morning. And I asked Brunon to bring down another trestle from the attic for Wilhelm and Irena’s wedding gifts. It was then that Mama von Letteberg noticed how impatient Claus was to be alone with me, so she insisted on taking over the organizing so Claus and I could go upstairs.

I had no idea how much I would resent his presence in the room that has been mine since I was a baby. Although the four-poster bed Mama had ordered placed in the room during our honeymoon is huge, I couldn’t endure the idea of sharing it with Claus. And there he was, lying on the embroidered linen cover in his uniform, his dirty boots outside the door for Brunon to take down and clean.

Claus kissed me and complimented me on my figure. I told him I have been too busy vomiting to put on any weight. He said he is very glad about the baby and he knew from his mother’s letters that I was far from well and missing him. I tried to smile but found it very difficult. All I could think about was Papa lying in that freezing cold vault. Papa, who had always hated the cold.

Claus suggested that we should have some wine and go to bed. It was only nine o’clock but he said I looked as exhausted as him. There was no point in arguing because I knew that everyone expected us to remain there until morning.

I wonder if I am getting used to the things he does to me, or if he really was gentler. It didn’t hurt as much as I remembered, although it was still disgusting, and afterwards I was horribly sick, but by then Claus was asleep so it didn’t matter. I sat up and wrote because I couldn’t stand lying next to him listening to his snoring. Then, at three o’clock I felt terribly thirsty and hungry, and realized that I had eaten hardly anything since Papa had died, so I put on my robe and left the room.

The house was quiet. I looked in on Mama. Greta had stayed with her, probably to let everyone know what a martyr she was being, although she needn’t have bothered because she was sleeping on the chaise longue, so if Mama had wanted anything Greta wouldn’t have been any use. And she was sleeping very soundly because she didn’t stir when I tiptoed in and switched off all the lights except the small light next to Mama’s bed.

Even Putzi barely lifted her head out of her basket when I walked down the stairs; so much for her being a guard dog. Someone had filled all the tables with presents. There were several with Claus’s handwriting, so I knew that he must have given his case to his mother to empty.

While I was making my way to the kitchen I heard a noise in Papa’s study and froze, half-expecting him to be there. I was terrified when I pushed open the door. It wasn’t Papa, but Wilhelm and Irena. They had locked the door from the hall, but Wilhelm hadn’t bothered with the small door that connects with the servants’ part of the house. They were standing in front of the fire whispering so low I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Irena was unbuttoning Wilhelm’s trousers, something I could never imagine doing for Claus, then she helped him undress while he undressed her.

I stood there, worried that if I moved they would see my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace, and also, although I am ashamed to admit it, I wanted to see if Wilhelm would hurt Irena as much as Claus hurts me.

But when they were both naked, they lay, side by side on the rug in front of the fire. Irena kissed Wilhelm all over. Every part of him. I was shocked. Just the thought of kissing Claus’s lips makes me sick, let alone any other part of his body. Then he began stroking and kissing her. I should have moved away but I simply couldn’t believe Irena. She didn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted, and she smiled and laughed the whole time as though she liked him touching her. If she was in any pain she didn’t show any sign of it.

Can Nina be right? Do some women actually want men to do those things to them? It was obvious from what Irena was doing to Wilhelm, and he to her, that it wasn’t the first time they had been alone and naked together.

I crept back up the staircase to the bedroom where I am writing this. Claus is still sleeping. I feel tired and sick, and I am still hungry because I didn’t get anything to eat in case I made a noise that would disturb Wilhelm or Irena.