Since Susi’s been a Free German Youth leader we’re on the move round the clock. And we’re doing handicrafts too, making things for the Christmas market, and going into the schools in January.
Making things for the Christmas market? Käthe articulated the words Christmas market as if they evoked Popocatepetl. Her mouth had dropped open. But why?
We do our bit everywhere, you know that. The Free German Youth goes into the factories, into the schools, among the people, everywhere. Susi sipped her wine, smiling.
Terrific. Fabulous. That’s what I call fabulous. Käthe seemed relieved at first. Then she stopped and thought. But how do you manage to study as well?
Oh, working with the Free German Youth is fun, said Susi, putting her glass down.
And but for the Free German Youth it wouldn’t have been so easy to get a place to study. Kalle spoke with a heavy Berlin accent; Käthe liked that, and was tempted to emulate him. But it was clear that she had had difficulty in understanding exactly what he said. How was she to react? She knew that Thomas was obstinate enough to decline to join the youth organisation. And even with the prospect of taking her final exam as an inducement, Ella had made the mistake of leaving it again.
If we got places to study at all, Susi pointed out.
I believe you! Käthe looked past Thomas and Ella, an expression of reproof in her eyes. Two clever young people sat there before her who supported the Republic and did not, like her children, refuse to lend a hand.
In mid-December Thomas came back to Berlin from Gommern for the second time, only a week earlier than expected. But he had been sent back because of a recurrence of his rash. Once again the sales assistant from Erkner who worked magic had to be called in, and the doctor came to see Thomas as well. On the same day the phone rang. After a long illness he had passed away, were the words with which Käthe’s mother gave the news of her husband’s death. Perhaps it should be described as a blessed release, he didn’t have to suffer any more. He had been Käthe’s father the professor, the Vati she revered, she didn’t believe in blessed releases. She sat at the table in silence, staring at the tablecloth.
Her brother Paul and his family were coming from America for the funeral, and her sister Erna and Erna’s husband were coming from England, so the professor’s son and younger daughter would both be here. However, the German Democratic Republic wasn’t going to let them into the country on flimsy grounds. The family did battle with all means at its disposal against formalities, documents were certified, sent off, file numbers were communicated, and two days before the funeral the entry permits were granted. For the funeral, and between Christmas and New Year, Uncle Paul’s family and Erna with her husband stayed with Käthe. Käthe warned her children not to tell their relations about Thomas’s illness in case they feared infection. She was obviously embarrassed by the fact that Thomas was ill. As their beds were needed for the visitors, Thomas and Ella had to share a bed with Käthe. In the daytime Ella lay on the sofa on the veranda, dozing; the door of the smoking room was open, and she couldn’t help overhearing a conversation between Käthe and her sister Erna.
Who keeps house for me when I’m earning money?
Surely Ella and Thomas don’t get up to any mischief? Erna whispered.
Thomas is eating me out of house and home, hissed Käthe softly, and Ella lies and steals whenever she can. How am I supposed to pay for it all? The rent, the stones, a studio, it all costs money. Haven’t I been bereaved?
Not in the eyes of the law.
I mean as a widow, from back in the past.
You weren’t married to him.
But we loved each other.
Erna said nothing in reply to that, and Ella didn’t see what she could have said.
After a moment when they were both silent, Käthe whispered: Aren’t I entitled to anything?
Perhaps Erna pressed Käthe’s hand. You’re strong, you can work.
Of course I can work, no question about that. Käthe was getting heated. She could easily get annoyed with Erna, with her immaculate respectability as a married woman and her part-time job as a teacher. To Käthe, her sister’s life was the quintessence of a secure existence. But I need money to work as well, I don’t have a wife to look after my children. By way of reply Erna started crying. Was she shedding tears of sympathy or of shame for her own better situation? Käthe came marching firmly out on to the veranda, and saw Ella there with her eyes closed. Don’t just lie around idling like that, you’ll sleep half your life away. There are dishes to be washed in the kitchen. Get up, Pimpernel, off you go.
Käthe had bought an enormous carp for New Year’s Eve; Ella and Thomas feared that carp every year. While Käthe was gutting the carp in the kitchen, and her sister Erna was supposed to be helping her to clean the vegetables and peel the potatoes, Uncle Paul and Thomas were playing badminton in the smoking room. Uncle Paul had suggested moving the big table into the next room so that they could run back and forth more freely. He showed Thomas the way he served. Ella sat in front of the radiator, with no one taking any notice of her, rolling a ball of wax with the palms of her hands. Her eyes kept closing, and then she heard the whoosh of the shuttlecock in the air, heard its springy ping and then the firmer plop as it fell.
Thomas was not to put himself under any strain, the doctor had said only just before Christmas, to speed his recovery from shingles, but no one forbade playing games, so Thomas was leaping into the air, bright red in the face. Uncle Paul spoke with a strong American accent, as if he hadn’t been born and gone to school in Germany. You have to jump higher!
Thomas jumped higher.
Faster!
Thomas jumped faster. Ping. Plop. Plop. Plop.
Once Thomas stumbled, gasped for breath and collapsed. Uncle Paul crouched down beside him. In concern, he put his hand on Thomas’s shirt, which was wet with sweat. He patted his nephew like an animal. Oh boy, you’re not on good form.
Thomas shook his head.
Oh boy, repeated Uncle Paul, nodding sadly. Sport is so important. How are you going to study if you don’t keep fit?
I want to get out, whispered Thomas.
What did you say?
Out, Uncle Paul. Out of here. O.U.T.
You mean? Uncle Paul looked around as if he feared someone might be listening to them. Only now did he see Ella, but he just smiled at her briefly, bent over Thomas and said: You know perfectly well you can’t do that to your mother. She loves you.
Thomas sat up, supporting himself on the floor with one arm, blew back his fringe and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. In the middle of his overheated face, a white triangle stood out around his nose. Something was running down his cheek, Ella couldn’t be sure whether it was sweat or tears.
You can help me, Uncle Paul.
But Uncle Paul shook his head. Your mother will get you a place to study, you wait and see.
Please! Now Thomas gripped his uncle’s arm and held it tight. He was gasping. Please.
At this point Ella threw her ball of wax in Thomas’s direction, but although she hit him on the leg with it neither of them took any notice of her.
Thomas, that won’t do. His uncle pinched Thomas’s cheek as if he were an impudent little boy. I’m sorry, Thomas. He stood up and gave Thomas his hand to help him to his feet.
Can’t someone set the table? Käthe opened the door. Do get a move on! Isn’t anyone going to bring the table back in? We’ll be ready to eat in ten minutes!