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Authors: David Wiltshire

Tears of Autumn, The (7 page)

BOOK: Tears of Autumn, The
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Vor der Kaserne bei dem großen Tor

Stand eine Lanterne and steht sie noch davor

So wollen wir uns wieder seh’n

Bei der Lanterne wollen wir steh’n

Wie einst Lile Marlen.

Anna winced. ‘It’s new, he’s been practising it at home on the piano. He was lucky to get the sheet music, Goebbels doesn’t like it. I wouldn’t mind so much but he sings along as well, it’s driving me insane.’

He grinned mischeiviously at her. ‘It’s a lovely tune, very sad and romantic.’

By the time they had got back to the hotel they were all
half-asleep
from the food, wine and warmth. In the hotel lobby they faced each other.

Anna said ‘I’m going to take a shower and have a sleep.’

Rosemary agreed. ‘Good idea.’

On impulse the girls leant forward and kissed each other on the cheek.

‘Might see you later, at dinner?’

Anna looked hopeful. Rosemary nodded, smiling.

‘That would be fine. Meet in the bar at say … eight o’clock?’

‘Excellent.’

Biff and Konrad exchanged glances of mock resignation as the German said: ‘see what I mean, Biff? We are not bosses in our
own lives any more.’

‘Come along, Oberleutnant zur See.’

Anna took him by the arm and started pulling him away, waving with her fingers only to Biff. ‘See you later then.’

When they’d gone Rosemary said: ‘They really are very nice, aren’t they? You were completely wrong about them.’

He acknowledged her remark with a nod as he took her hand and made for their staircase.

‘I know, I know. But I thought they were English, and not quite right. How was I to know they were Germans?’

‘Can’t tell the difference really, can you?’ Rosemary taunted as he put the key in the door and opened it.

On a sudden impulse he picked her up. Rosemary gave a little squeak of surprise as he flipped the door shut behind them with his heel.

‘Right, young lady, just so as you know who is boss.’

He dumped her on the bed, and flung his jacket off as she lay still, looking up at him.

‘Oh, you’re so masterful.’

Even he realized it must have been the wine talking.

They were first down, and ordered two dry martinis. When the von Riegners eventually showed up Anna looked radiant. ‘Sorry we’re late.’

Rosemary and she exchanged knowing suggestive glances as Biff ordered two more drinks.

Before dinner they talked of families. Anna’s parents lived in Berlin, her father was a professor at the university, in the department of medicine, Konrad’s parents were more elderly, and had moved to Bamberg, a larger town than Erlangen.

‘They have found a much better apartment, close to shops and the bank. It is much more convenient for them.’

‘What does your father do?’ asked Biff.

Konrad had taken out a packet of cigars and offered them. Biff had declined, but Konrad had begun lighting one. When he finished he screwed his eyes up in the cloud of blue smoke as he disposed of his match into a tray. He took the cigar out of his mouth.

‘Nothing any more. He is …’ he paused and questioned Anna in German who replied in English: ‘Retired.’

‘Yes, retired – he is retired now,’ continued Konrad, ‘but he was a naval man also.’

He looked sheepish and added: ‘He fought at the Skagerrakschlacht.’

Frowning, Biff was just going to say he hadn’t heard of it when Anna broke off what she was saying to Rosemary to interject:
‘You call it the Battle of Jutland.’

Konrad added: ‘He was injured; his ship sank, you see.’

Since it was obviously the Royal Navy that had sent it to the bottom Biff, out of good manners managed: ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Don’t be; he did rather well out of it. Won the Iron Cross and survived the rest of the war.’

Biff felt a little uncomfortable talking about the war, but Konrad seemed quite happy. ‘And your father?’

Biff nodded. ‘Infantry Officer. Stopped a Blighty one at Gallipoli.’

Konrad was about to draw on his cigar again but paused. ‘Stopped a Blighty one?’

Before Anna could intervene Biff said quickly: ‘He was wounded, severely enough to have to go back to England.’

‘Ah.’ Realization dawned.

Konrad continued to draw on his cigar before saying: ‘We are both lucky, then. Our fathers came through.’

They lapsed into silence, sipping their martinis, conscious that both families knew about service – and suffering.

The atmosphere over dinner was lively. They discussed the latest shows; Konrad and Anna had both been to New York on the Hamburg Line.

‘The skyline was fantastic when we approached in the morning,’ said Anna. ‘The skyscrapers come out of the mist.’

They’d been up the Empire State Building. ‘No sign of gorillas,’ joked Konrad in reference to the
King Kong
film.

Anna had enjoyed the shows on Broadway, especially
Babes in
Arms
and a song from it: ‘The Lady is a Tramp’ and her husband had visited the Stock Exchange.

‘Like a madhouse, Biff – a bloody madhouse. I don’t understand Americans; no class, it’s all money, money, money.’

Diplomatically, Biff made no comment, although privately he was thinking of Anna’s ring and the obvious old wealth of Konrad’s family.

They took coffee and brandies in the art nouveau garden room. The white grand piano was being played by a black man, his teeth gleaming against the dark of his face and dinner jacket, smiling as he crooned a love song.

‘He’s just like Hutch,’ said Rosemary dreamily.

Whether it was the food, the warmth, or the excesses of the day, everybody seemed sleepy, and by 11.30 they had finished drinking and talking. They started to get up to go to bed, walking slowly along the length of the room.

‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ asked Rosemary.

Anna glanced at Konrad before saying: ‘We have nothing planned. Just going to stay around, play some tennis, take the sun.’

Rosemary stopped. ‘Tennis. You can play tennis?’

Anna looked puzzled. ‘Of course.’

‘What about us having our own tennis party – mixed doubles, or men against the women and maybe singles?’ Rosemary was quite excited.

Anna too was enthusiastic.

‘That would be good.’

Without further ado the girls set a time.

‘We’d better book the court now. First session in your name, second in ours. That should be enough, don’t you think?’ Anna put her head to one side.

As she and Rosemary made towards the front desk, Biff and Konrad looked at each other.

‘Well, it seems our day is already decided for us.’ Konrad smiled. ‘Do you like tennis?’

Biff grinned. ‘If I’m playing with Anna and Rosemary, yes.’

Konrad slapped him on the back.

‘That’s true. I’ll see you in the morning then, at whatever time these wives of ours have decided.’

With that he started up the stairs.

‘Tell Anna not to wake me up,’ he called over his shoulder, winking.

 

The best tactical player was Rosemary. Anna was more athletic. Biff and Konrad were aggressive; stronger, but essentially wilder. Rosemary and Biff just got their nose ahead in the final match.

They crashed into the chairs beside the court.

Biff caught the attention of a waiter, who came over to them from the striped refreshment tent that the hotel had set up on the lawn for the season.

‘May we have a big bottle of water;
senza gaz
, and cordials for everybody?’

Konrad waved his arm. ‘I would also like a large glass of beer please, and …’ He added something in German.

The waiter chuckled, shot a glance at Biff as he went off.

‘What did you say to him?’ asked Rosemary.

Konrad grinned and looked slyly at Biff.

‘I only said to make sure the beer was cold, not like my English friend would like it.’

Immediately Biff sat upright, snorting.

‘What utter rubbish. All the light stuff you drink has to be cold – it’s tasteless. We brew real beer.’


Ja – warm
beer.’

Konrad was grinning from ear to ear.

Biff shook his head.

‘It’s not warm, it’s room temperature, the way it’s supposed to be drunk so that you can get the full flavour of the hops. You don’t chill red wine, do you?’

Shaking his head Konrad held up his hands in mock surrender.

‘You win, you win.’

They lapsed into comfortable silence.

The waiter returned, effortlessly carrying a very large tray in one hand, and without setting it down, dispensed four cordials, then the water, and placing, last of all, a very large glass of beer in front of Konrad.

Rosemary exclaimed: ‘Gosh, are you going to drink all of that?’

Konrad pulled himself upright and reached for the glass.

‘Very easily, my dear.’

They watched as he started drinking, the level of beer slowly going down until the by now horizontal glass showed empty, just foam sliding down its side as he set it back on to the table.


Konrad
!’

Anna shook her head and said to them. ‘He still plays these silly drinking games they have in the Navy.’

Her husband wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

‘No, no, we don’t do things like that.’

He winked at Biff. ‘I learned that at my daddy’s knee in Munich, at the
Oktoberfest
.’

Anna shook her head.

‘He may have, but believe me, I’ve seen him next day after some dinner or other in the mess and I
know
he’s been up to no good.’

Konrad looked at Biff for support.

‘Come now, Biff,’ he implored, ‘tell my bossy wife that you have celebration nights in your Air Force.’

Biff hadn’t really had much experience with such things yet, but he knew of their wild reputation, especially after the brass had withdrawn. Mark you, they had had their moments in the training squadron.

He smiled at Anna.

‘Of course, we all do it, makes for
esprit de corps
.’

Konrad took out a cigar from his tennis bag and offered it to Biff who shook his head. ‘There you are, Anna,’ exclaimed Konrad. ‘Good for you, Biff.’

Anna looked to Rosemary for support.

Rolling their eyes they raised their glasses to each other in mutual agreement at the childishness of men.

After they had sat talking, and had long finished their drinks, Rosemary stood up, smoothing down her white skirt.

‘Right, I’m off for a shower and a lie-down. You coming, Biff?’

As he rose they all did, and made their way back to the hotel, rackets over shoulders.

Rosemary led the way up the stairs. ‘See you in the bar at seven, then? Whoever is first gets the champagne going.’

Inside their rooms Rosemary propped the tennis racket in its wooden press near the door. She went to the dressing-table in the bedroom and released her blonde hair, shaking her head to free it.

She unbuttoned her skirt, let it drop and stepped out of it as she unbuttoned and pulled her blouse off, leaving her in her camiknickers.

It was very hot, despite the ceiling fan in the bedroom, and after the walk up from the gardens she was perspiring.

Biff couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was still quite shocking being so
casually
in close proximity to a woman in her underwear, particularly a good-looking one like Rosemary.

In all his previous life he’d never so much as seen his sister in anything but her bedrobe.

Once some boys at school had got hold of a very daring fashion magazine from Paris. Inside there had been photos of models in
lingerie
. They had all savoured the word, practising their best French so that even the French mistress would have approved. There was even some speculation as to what she wore beneath her formal grey suit and black gown; after all, she was
really
French.

But now, here was his wife, after only a few days of marriage, unashamedly undressing before him and parading about completely unconcerned. And he had thought
she
would be the shy one: everybody had said to be gentle and considerate!

She drew on her silk dressing-gown, quite aware of his interest and pleaded: ‘I really do need to rest, darling.’

Biff jumped. ‘Sorry.’

As she passed him she stretched up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

‘Don’t be – I like it.’

 

At six o’clock they started dressing for dinner – or rather, Rosemary did. He sat out on the balcony in his striped dressinggown, smoking a cigarette and sipping a cognac.

The sun was low in the sky, the slopes of Vesuvius turning a hazy purple in the humidity.

Far off, in the slate-blue waters the grey shape of a cruiser, its menacing form somewhat softened by bunting was slipping towards Naples dockyard, shadowed by two destroyers.

Nearer, the paddle steamer was coming back from Capri, its two red funnels billowing black smoke, its white wake curving away as it turned in from its journey up the coast. And everywhere were the red and white sails of the local fishermen.

Beneath him the harbour was full of pleasure boats and crowds of excited chattering families walking up the hill into the town.

He finished his Craven A, stood up and went back into the room through the open french doors. Rosemary was at the dressing-table in her petticoat, using a powder puff on her creamy white shoulders.

‘Ah, just in time to help me with my frock.’

She stood up and went to the massive wardrobe, her image flashing in the mirror on the door as she opened it. She took out a full-length dress, slipped the material off the padded hanger and stepped into it, pulling it up and pushing her arms through the sleeves.

‘Fix it for me, darling.’

When he’d done so she turned around, eyes gleaming.

‘Do you like it?’

The shot-silk peacock-blue material shimmered in the light, fitting her tightly until, just at the knees, it flared gently out.

The neckline was folded and swagged from shoulder to shoulder. Her blonde, straight hair was combed to one side, held by a diamond clip, with matching pendant earrings.

He shook his head in wonderment.

‘You look magnificent.’

She beamed. ‘Thank you.’ She gave him a suggestive look. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere – later.’

It didn’t take him long to change. He did his black tie up and drew on his dinner jacket, checking for his gunmetal cigarette case and wallet. He called out ‘Right, ready.’

Rosemary gave a last puff of scent to her neck, picked up her beaded evening bag and joined him at the door.

When they entered the bar they saw Konrad and Anna by the white grand piano. The black pianist was playing and singing in his soft tenor voice.

They made their way over. Konrad looked up, caught sight of them first.

He was also in a dinner jacket, his blond hair contrasting with the blackness of his suit. Anna was in a white silk dress with a high neckline and padded shoulders. At the waist she had a tied belt of the same material, with two long tassels. The dress flowed straight to the floor. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a chignon, and a thick diamond bracelet caught the light as she waved.

Konrad exclaimed when he saw Rosemary: ‘My God, you are beautiful.’

Biff looked Anna up and down, and thought he’d never seen a more stunningly elegant woman in his life, but just said: ‘And so are you.’

She smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Let’s celebrate our beautiful ladies with champagne.’

Konrad turned to the counter and ordered a bottle. Later, as they made towards a table Biff suddenly saw that there was no back to Anna’s dress at all – she was naked from her waist to the ribbon at the nape of her neck. It was very daring.

Rosemary saw it at the same time.

‘Anna, what an incredible dress.’

‘Do you like it? I got it in Paris last year.’

The girls talked of fashion as they settled themselves into the chairs in the garden room. Anna set her bag on to her lap and got out her cigarettes, offering them to Rosemary. ‘Would you like one?’

‘Turkish? Would you mind if I don’t? Too strong for me.’

Biff took one instead as Rosemary found her Marcovitch Black and Whites.

Anna pushed her cigarette into a small ebony-and-silver holder. Konrad produced his lighter. When the flame reached Biff and he was alight he said: ‘Thanks.’ He nodded at the lighter. ‘That’s very nice.’

BOOK: Tears of Autumn, The
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