by Diana Finley
‘I couldn’t bear to think of him as lonely and miserable.’
Sam puts his arms around Anna and nuzzles the top of her head.
‘I know it’s hard for you, and you’ll miss him terribly. I’m going to miss him too. But we’ve got to think of what’s best for the boy. His education could determine his whole future life. Surely we can’t deny him that, just to keep him with us, however much we want to? And he’ll be back home in no time – just a few weeks – and think what a wonderful Christmas we’ll all have together.’
‘Oh, you’re always so very persuasive – all the right answers, as usual,’ Anna says, frowning, ‘but what about Eve?’
‘What about her?’
‘You know how close they are. She’ll be … bereaved.’
‘He’s not dying!’
Anna does not smile.
‘Look, of course she’ll miss him,’ says Sam. ‘She may feel lonely for a time. But maybe it’ll be a good thing for her too, to be the centre of attention for a while.’
‘You don’t think Eve gets enough attention?’
‘I didn’t say that. It seems to me she’s been looking a bit peaky lately. Let’s just try to look at it positively. An opportunity for us – and especially you – to focus particularly on Eve; to have fun with her, help her develop her interests and her confidence.’
‘I don’t think Ben’s presence at home stops Eve having attention, or stops her developing her interests and confidence.’
Sam sighs and shakes his head.
* * *
A month later, the heat of the summer has given way to a cool, damp September. The whole family drives to Ostende. Anna listens to Eve chattering to Ben in the back of the car. He is quieter than usual, answering only in monosyllables. Anna adjusts her mirror to look at him. Somehow his new school uniform makes him look even younger and more vulnerable. A tousle of reddish hair sticks out from the grey and rust striped cap. Bony knees emerge from long grey flannel shorts. His long woollen socks refuse to stay up, slithering down his skinny calves in bunched folds, despite elastic garters made by Della.
As they left home, Ben stood rigidly, allowing himself to be hugged by Della and Maggi, his face a contortion of self-control. Maggi has filled his tuck box with favourite treats: chocolate biscuit cake, vanilla kipfel, cheese straws, all carefully wrapped and packed among the tins and packets.
At the dock, Sam takes Ben for a stroll along the quayside. Anna watches them walk hand in hand together, father and son, deep in some serious conversation.
‘No long drawn-out goodbyes,’ Sam had said. ‘Just prolongs the agony and gives him time to brood.’
Eve is clinging to Anna’s arm, looking up at her face.
‘We don’t want Ben to go, do we, Mamma?’ she whispers confidentially.
Anna hesitates, resisting an urge to shake Eve’s hand off.
‘We want what’s best for Ben, sweetie. That’s what we want.’
Anna and Ben stand and wave at the ship’s rail until Sam and Eve are tiny dots merging into the blur of the crowd. Anna tries to ignore the waves of nausea tightening her stomach, just as she had done years before, as a different ship carried her and Jakob away from Brindisi, away from Europe, and all she had known and loved. Ben is excited by travelling on the ship, appearing to forget his apprehension for a time. He races about exploring and pointing out features of interest to Anna: the lifeboats, the smoke emerging from the funnels, the captain and pilot just visible in the control cabin on the bridge.
They arrive in Dover in a grey dusk and spend one night, booked by Sam, at a modest guesthouse near the dock. There appear to be only two other guests, an elderly couple. The middle-aged landlady becomes especially friendly when she hears Anna’s husband is in the forces. She tells Anna she lost her own husband in North Africa during the war. She searches a drawer and gives Ben an envelope full of golly labels steamed off empty jam jars, promising to save more for his next visit. Ben is delighted. He will be able to send them off for a golly badge, he tells Anna.
Anna studies Sam’s directions over breakfast. Later the train takes them to London, through mile upon mile of dreary suburbs. It rains steadily. Ben’s special treat is to spend two hours on the underground, puzzling over the map and working out routes that take them to stations with strange names, places they never actually see – Goodge Street, Angel, Monument, Elephant and Castle, Piccadilly – and back eventually to Charing Cross, where they have lunch in a nearby Lyons’ Corner House.
Anna is content to let Ben guide her, to take the lead and do as he wants – anything to keep him happy and distracted from their forthcoming parting. Behind her cheery laughter is the knowledge of what is to come, her dread of the moment she will have to leave him, a heavy feeling sitting ominously, like a weight lurking beneath her ribcage, dragging her down. They go into a news-theatre, hazy with cigarette smoke and fusty with the smell of shabby old men in damp raincoats, enjoying an interlude of warmth and shelter. A newsreel is showing.
‘When will the cartoons come on?’ Ben whispers.
They sit through two cycles of news and cartoons, before catching the train at Waterloo station. Constance and Humphrey are waiting at the station, looking a little older, but otherwise unchanged. They are very welcoming. The two older girls are away: one still at school, the other now at a finishing school in Switzerland. Camilla is still home from her school for the holidays, about to return for the new term. She appears to have grown nearly a metre taller since Anna last saw her. Only just still a child, she has sprouted long legs, and developed the glowering looks of imminent adolescence, but she hugs Anna shyly. Anna recalls the insecurity and anxiety she felt during her previous stay with Humphrey and Constance. This time she feels unintimidated and finds herself surprisingly moved at seeing Constance again, as though reacquainting herself with a very old and close friend.
The following morning Humphrey drives them through gentle Surrey countryside to Hadrian Court preparatory school. It is a sombre Jacobean building, prickly with turrets and towers, a facade of crumbling red-brick, interrupted by dark narrow windows. Large cars line the front drive bumper to bumper. Well-dressed parents talk in loud voices and fuss over trunks and boxes. Humphrey slips his car expertly into a vacated space.
‘Why don’t you take Ben in, Anna? Find his house and dorm. Get him settled and all that, while I sort out the luggage.’
Dear Humphrey, she thinks, sensitive enough in his way, giving her a chance to say her farewells to Ben in private. She reaches for Ben’s hand, but he withdraws it hurriedly, looking about him with hunted, furtive eyes. An older boy, officiously holding a clipboard, approaches them. Beside Ben he looks almost adult, though he can’t be more than twelve or thirteen.
‘New boy? Good morning. I’m Langley-Hunt. Here to show you the ropes. What’s your name?’
‘Benjamin Lawrence,’ Ben whispers. Anna has never heard him refer to himself as Benjamin before.
‘Right. Lawrence … let’s see. Yes, here we are, you’re on my list for Oak House. This way, Mrs Lawrence.’
Anna smiles and follows the man-boy meekly. He leads them through dark halls and corridors, and into the lighter, more modern extended back of the school. The smell of varnished wooden floors and stale food brings a surge of memories; standing next to Kaethe in a queue of children, clutching her bowl. Anna pauses, overcome with queasiness. Ben looks up at her anxiously. She takes a deep breath and smiles at him. Ahead of them, Langley-Hunt leaps up some steep stairs and strides along another corridor. They break into a trot to keep up, emerging at last into a long room lined with beds, like a hospital ward. Beside each bed is a small cupboard, bookshelf and bedside locker. Langley-Hunt strides towards the third bed on the right.
‘This is your bed, Lawrence.’ He indicates with a sweep of his arm, looking from Anna to Ben, as if waiting for some comment of appreciation. ‘Now, I’ll go and see how your pa is getting on with the luggage.’
‘Uncle,’ s
ays Ben.
‘What?’
‘He’s my uncle. Uncle Humphrey.’
‘Oh, right-ho. Better get it right, eh? You might want to say goodbye here, Mrs Lawrence. If you want a word with the Head’s wife, her room is on the left on the way out. Mrs Rutter, she’s called.’
Anna and Ben sit side by side on the bed and look around.
‘Ben, my sweetheart, are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, Mamma. I’ll be OK. You better go now.’
Anna bites the inside of her lip, willing tears not to betray her. She hugs him. He smiles fixedly. He looks terrified. She suppresses an urge to grab his hand and run with him, and keep running.
‘Hello,’ says a small voice. A fair-haired boy, even smaller than Ben, is sitting on the next bed. He stands up and approaches Ben.
‘My name’s Charlie Ballantyre, what’s yours?’
‘Ben Lawrence … um … are you new too?’
Anna takes a deep breath. She gives Ben a last squeeze and tiptoes away.
When Humphrey returns to the car after carrying Ben’s trunk upstairs, he pats her knee and offers her his handkerchief.
‘Absolutely fine. Talking nineteen to the dozen to young Charlie, and another little fellow. Nothing to worry about, my dear. He’ll soon settle in.’
* * *
At this time, just when they are all trying to adjust to Ben’s absence, the familiar little world Anna and Sam have built around themselves is starting to crumble and change in other ways too. Della and Herr Eisen are now the only live-in servants. When little Mekki was five, Hannelore had brought her boyfriend Heinz to meet Anna and Sam. A few months later they had been married, and a small celebration party held at the house. Hannelore and Heinz had rented a flat nearby and she had continued to work until a month before her baby daughter Lisa was born. Hannelore was still only twenty-three. Heinz had a steady job driving lorries for a timber merchant. He and Hannelore had decided she would stay at home to care for the children.
Maria, a pleasant woman in her thirties, is engaged to come on a daily basis to help with cleaning and other domestic tasks. Even greater change to the household is wrought by Maggi’s departure. Following the death from a heart attack of her former husband Klaus in 1948, Sam helps Maggi to hire a lawyer. After a lengthy legal procedure, a significant proportion of her former wealth is restored to her. She has no wish to wrangle with Klaus’s second wife Carla, who inherits the balance.
In addition, the German government is slowly making compensatory payments to those who suffered during the Nazi years. Both Maggi and Della are eligible to benefit from a special pension. Della opts to remain with the Lawrence family, while they still need her. Maggi, at seventy-five, decides she is getting too old to continue regular working. She retires to a small house in an affluent suburb of Düsseldorf.
Anna is deeply unsettled by her departure. Maggi has been a core member of the household for so many years now. Anna’s relationship with Maggi has become one of great affection and complete trust, a bond all the stronger because of the early tensions between them. She is not blind to the paradox of her formerly destitute cook returning to a life of leisure and relative luxury, but she does not begrudge her this comfort in her old age. Maggi returns regularly to visit the family, and bring Ben and Eve’s favourite baked treats. Sometimes Maggi helps out by supervising the cooking for special social or family occasions, but it is Della who helps Anna take control of the day-to-day cooking.
But why must there be yet another change, another loss – why now? She has to learn to cook from scratch, even down to knowing how many potatoes to cook for four or five people. Eve’s behaviour does not help.
‘She’s so difficult, Della. I sometimes wonder where I’ve gone wrong.’
‘No no, Frau Lawrence, you have not gone wrong at all. Eve is not difficult, not really, just sensitive. She is a child who thinks about things and tries to make sense of the adult world. So hard for a little girl of only six.’
‘How did you get to be so wise, Della? You don’t even have children, yet you seem to understand them better than I do.’
‘No one is more important than the mother, Frau Lawrence, no one.’
‘Well, I don’t think I’m making a very good job of it. She makes me so angry sometimes. I know I shouldn’t let her, I should control it – but I just can’t seem to do it.’
‘Ah, well, children can be very aggravating at times. She does miss Ben very much. Perhaps she needs to see more friends of her own age? And maybe a pet would help? She’s so keen on a having a dog. She has so much love to give.’
Anna looks at Della’s open, honest face and feels a brief surge of guilt and regret, overlaid with irritation.
‘She has a funny way of showing it sometimes.’
* * *
‘D’you know, I think Della’s right,’ Sam says, as he and Anna get ready for bed. ‘A pet would be nice for Eve. All our moving about hasn’t helped. She no sooner makes a friend than she’s whisked off again to a new house and a new school. Now maybe you see the advantage of boarding school.’
Anna huffs loudly and puts her hands firmly on her hips.
‘No, no, no, Sam. Absolutely not!’
‘No, of course not. I wasn’t being serious, darling. You’re right that Eve needs to be at home, but you know the problem with a dog. What if we should be posted back to England? It could happen at any time, and then the poor creature would have to be in quarantine for six months – canine boarding school of the worst sort! Anyway, I’ve had another idea.’
A few days later Eve is told there is to be a surprise for her.
‘Where are we going, Daddy?’
‘Wait and see. It’s not far.’
Sam and Anna, each holding one of Eve’s hands, smile at one another over the top of her head. The first heavy snow of the year has fallen. Their feet crunch on the fresh dry surface. Eve skips along between them, turning round from time to time to examine their trail of footprints, sparkling in the light of the street lamps. Anna registers sadly how happy Eve is to have both her parents all to herself for a while. They come to a cul-de-sac with a semi-circle of neat white houses. Sam leads them to the second house and rings the bell. The door is opened by a small, wiry woman, who introduces herself as Mrs Holland. They remove their boots and coats in the hallway and follow Mrs Holland into the kitchen. Eve looks both puzzled and excited.
‘So,’ says Mrs Holland to Eve, ‘you’re the little girl who wants a cat, are you?’
‘Really, I want a dog most, but I do like cats too.’
‘Right, I see. Well, there are just cats here. I’ve sorted them all out for you. These three in the basket are the boys. The girls are with their mother in that box over there by the stove.’ A faint mewling sound comes from both the box and the basket. Mrs Holland crouches down to Eve’s level.
‘I understand this is a special present for you, dear. You can choose whichever of the boys you like.’
Eve looks round at Anna and Sam questioningly.
‘We thought you’d like a kitten for company,’ says Sam. ‘A sort of early Christmas present. Go ahead. Have a good look at them and choose one.’
‘One of the … boys?’
‘We didn’t think we could manage lots of cats,’ says Anna, ‘and female kittens generally grow up to produce babies themselves. So have a look at the male kittens.’ She turns to Mrs Holland. ‘Although I don’t know how on earth you can tell, when they’re so small.’
‘It’s not always easy.’ Mrs Holland laughs. ‘Takes years of experience – and believe me, I’ve had plenty of experience with cats in my time.’
Eve peeps into the cardboard box. The black and white mother cat blinks calmly, as a heaving mound of tiny bodies struggles for her nipples. Eve approaches the basket and studies the three male kittens. She picks them up one by one. First she brings a white kitten with black ears to show to her parents. Next, she brings a very small black kitten with white feet, a white
tip to his tail and a white star on his forehead. Lastly, she holds up a striped gold and brown tabby kitten.
‘Father was a tabby,’ mouths Mrs Holland to Anna and Sam.
‘Which do you like best, Mamma?’ asks Eve.
‘It’s your kitten. You must choose.’
‘This one is beautiful,’ says Eve, putting the tabby kitten on Anna’s lap, ‘but do you like him too? I want you to like him too.’
Anna stiffens; she is not used to animals. She strokes the little creature awkwardly with one finger, feeling slightly repelled by the frail bones moving inside the furry skin.
‘What will you call him?’ asks Anna as they walk home, the kitten cuddled warm inside Eve’s coat.
‘Emil,’ says Eve.
Emil is a lively, playful kitten. Eve adores him and spends hours inventing games to entertain him. Emil tolerates being dressed in bonnets and pushed around in a dolls’ pram. He seems to enjoy Eve’s caresses, and positively seeks them out. Anna notices how much more contented Eve appears when Emil is stretched out on her lap, luxuriating in her passionate cuddles. He follows Eve like a dog, accompanying her to play in the garden or for walks in nearby fields and woods. He grows extremely fast.
After a time he starts to scratch at the kitchen door in the evenings, desperate to be outside. He roams the neighbourhood at night, but no one knows anything of his nocturnal adventures. Three months later he gives birth to four kittens on Ben’s bed, three black and one tabby. Anna shudders to see the tiny quivering bodies on Ben’s eiderdown, blind and almost hairless, like baby rats.
‘Well, either it’s a miracle birth, or Mrs Holland isn’t quite as skilled as she thought at sexing kittens,’ says Sam.
‘Perhaps we should call her Emilia … or Emily?’ suggests Anna.
‘He … I mean she will always be Emil,’ says Eve. ‘That’s his … her name.’
They manage to find homes for all four kittens, and Emil is taken to visit the vet.
* * *
Eve, sitting on the sideboard, throws a ping pong ball repeatedly against the opposite wall with a loud clacking sound, and catches it on the rebound.