Suitcase of Dreams

by Tania Blanchard

  ‘No, I can’t do this to you.’ He shook his head, pulling his hand away again.

  ‘I’m thirty-five next week. I think by now I can decide what I can and can’t manage.’ I was trying not to be angry with him. I had expected his resistance, after all, and losing my temper wouldn’t get me what I wanted.

  ‘This is a decision we make together and I don’t like it. It won’t work.’

  ‘How do you know it won’t work until you look at what we have to do to make it work? You’ve always taken care of me and protected me but now it’s time for you to let me do this for you and our family. It makes no sense to sell the farm. You light up when you go out there, you come home happy and smiling after a day working on the block. It’s the right place for the children to grow up, in the fresh air and with plenty of space to run around . . . And you must know I like it too. It’s peaceful and tranquil. I think we’ll be very happy there.’ I smiled smugly. It would be hard for him to argue against that.

  ‘This,’ he viciously gestured to his leg, trying to keep his voice down, ‘changes everything. It’s a fact of life now and any amount of dreaming and wishful thinking won’t change our situation. The hard truth remains that what you’re suggesting is an impossibility.’

  I blinked back tears. His words broke my heart, because there was no doubt as to how deeply he was suffering. In his eyes, the accident had made him useless and, worse still, a burden.

  ‘Besides, you wouldn’t manage out there on your own. There’s too much to do and it’s all hard work, not something I want you to do. No, it won’t be happening.’ He was breathing heavily, trying to keep a lid on his fury. He was a stubborn man but I understood how devastated he felt, placing us in this position, unable to give me the life he thought I wanted. I knew Erich harboured guilt about being unable to give me the life I was accustomed to after the war. But the truth was that all I had ever wanted was him.

  Now I wanted him home with me and I wanted him to be happy. A beautiful home and household goods were wonderful but paled into insignificance after the accident. I could’ve lost him and my gorgeous girl that day. Nothing could ever make such a loss right, not all the money in the world. I could be just as stubborn as him and he was about to discover that I wasn’t going to give in to his damaged pride. This was best for our family and I knew it.

  ‘I want to do it.’

  ‘The garage isn’t finished and we need a kitchen, running water and a toilet, for a start. You wouldn’t put our children in those conditions.’

  ‘You’ve got the time to work out what we need to do,’ I said icily. ‘When I come in without the children next, we can talk about how to make it happen.’

  ‘You’ll be sorely disappointed,’ Erich growled. If he could have got out of that bed, he would have. ‘There’s nothing to think about.’

  ‘You’re a stubborn man. If you think about it, you’ll see that it can be done. Stop trying to shelter me. I’m the one who has to do it and it’s what I want to do.’

  The following week we all visited Erich, bringing the cake Mutti had made for my birthday, so we could celebrate together. By the time we were finished it was late and nearing the end of visiting hours, so Mutti took the girls home while I stayed a while longer. I was a regular now and the nursing staff turned a blind eye to my presence after visiting hours.

  ‘Have you thought any more about the farm?’ I asked casually, moving the vase of flowers the girls had picked for him to one side of his bedside table. The small bunch of asters and white daisies made the cubicle feel more cheery and less impersonal. There were also vases of deep purple, orange and yellow dahlias mixed with pastel roses, and a couple of magnificent red gladioli in a vase. Flowers he had planted himself that were now blooming with a riot of colour.

  ‘I have,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘And?’ I sat in the chair by the bed.

  ‘If you refuse to stop being so stubborn, I suppose I might have to see how we can make it work.’ Just like a man to take his wife’s idea and call it his own. At least the spiced apple cake had done its job and Erich was in a more amiable mood.

  ‘How would we go about that?’

  ‘Enough problems for today.’ he said. ‘Let’s not discuss it tonight. It’s your birthday after all.’

  I stared into his eyes and saw this was not the time to push him.

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I suppose you need some time to work out the details.’ I smiled prettily back at him and he laughed.

  He pulled me closer to him. ‘So it’s like that, is it?’

  We were interrupted by the nurse sliding open the curtain. ‘Everything all right, Mr Drescher?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘Here’s your medication for the night.’ She placed four fat tablets onto Erich’s palm, handing him a cup of water. Erich dutifully popped them in his mouth and took a sip of water. She bustled around the bed, checking on his leg and the traction and writing in his notes while Erich waited calmly for her to leave, his gaze sliding across to me from time to time.

  ‘Visiting hours are over soon, Mrs Drescher,’ the nurse said, smiling at me. Her white hat sat stiffly upon her head and her starched apron crinkled as she moved. ‘Just close the curtains as you go. There’s always activity on the ward at night. See you both tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister Evans,’ Erich said. He shuffled a little to get more comfortable before resting back on the pillows. He took my hand and brought it to his lips. ‘Happy birthday, my liebling.’

  My pulse began to race. Weeks of being cooped up in a hospital bed hadn’t dampened his ardour. If anything, it had increased.

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t give you the present I wanted to give you,’ he whispered.

  I leant in, kissing him on the mouth, and his hand reached behind my head, drawing me closer as he responded with a passionate kiss of his own, one that dispelled any doubt I might have had about his meaning. He released me slowly, a smile spreading across his face.

  ‘What?’ I murmured, wishing we were at home in the privacy of our bedroom.

  ‘I have something else in mind for you.’ He patted the bed beside him. ‘Come a little closer so I can show you.’

  It took a second for me to realise what he meant.

  ‘No!’ I whispered, horrified. ‘What if the nurse comes in?’

  ‘She won’t. I’ve had my medication. They won’t come in unless they have to. They’re busy with more demanding patients than me.’ He took my arm, pulling me towards him. ‘It’ll give me something to think about to break the tedium until I see you next.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ I said, mortified, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t resist those magnetic eyes, even after all of these years, and I sat on the bed beside him.

  ‘Now, I can’t move much,’ he whispered into my ear, ‘but I still have the full use of my fingers.’ He pulled the blanket over me, his hand reaching under the covers. I gasped as his palm grazed my nipples and caressed the curves of my body, moving lower until he had found his mark. I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t make a sound. It had been so long and he knew exactly what I needed. I closed my eyes and suddenly I didn’t care where I was as my body arched and I surrendered to his loving touch. I was molten liquid, as though my body had been heated until fire sang through my veins and I had dissolved.

  Gradually I felt reason return to me, my body solid upon the bed.

  ‘I can’t believe you did that here,’ I muttered, trying to sit upright, smoothing my dishevelled clothes.

  ‘Why not? Nobody disturbed us. Maybe we should make this a regular thing? Mmm?’ Erich’s hands were resting behind his head and he wore a look of satisfaction on his face. ‘I need to entertain myself, after all . . . Unless you didn’t like it, of course.’

  ‘You know I did.’ I glared at him, not sure how to feel. Shock, embarrassment and excitement all warred within me, as well as relief that nobody had discovered us. I slid off the bed and back onto the chair like a
pool of honey, eyes trained on the curtain in case someone walked in.

  ‘Well then, I think that’s settled.’ Erich’s green eyes sparkled with a brightness I hadn’t seen for some time. Maybe it had been worth the risk, just to see the light in his eyes.

  *

  Erich and I continued to fight over the idea of moving to the farm. I wouldn’t budge and, in the end, the fact that we couldn’t continue to pay the rent and the mortgage on the block forced Erich to yield. It wasn’t ideal, but eventually our plans consolidated until I realised it was really going to happen.

  The girls loved coming to the hospital and, after exhausting the conversation of what they’d been doing since last they saw him, they’d leave me to go over the details of the move with their father. Greta was intrigued by the injuries of the various men on the ward, and followed the nurses around like a puppy, asking questions, or sitting quietly watching their routine. She and Johanna both enjoyed watching the television on the ward. It was a luxury and novelty to them, and this was the only place they could watch the shows they talked about with their friends at school But between working and what we needed to do on the farm so that we could live there, the time I could manage at the hospital was getting shorter and shorter.

  Mutti insisted on taking some of the load off my shoulders by doing the shopping during the week. It was one less thing for me to think about. I tried to make sure one of the girls was able to go with her most days, but sometimes she was on her own. At first I was worried, her English wasn’t good, but she promised to stick to the list I made for her and assured me that she would show the list to the shop assistant if she was unsure.

  I thought no more about it until some weeks later.

  ‘Do you think you could come with me to the delicatessen during your lunch break?’ said Mutti.

  ‘Why?’ I was rushing out the door to get to work on time.

  ‘I want to make a special meal for you and the girls but I can’t find the right cheese. Maybe you can help me find one that’s similar.’

  ‘Can’t the shop assistant do that for you?’ I picked up my handbag from the table.

  ‘No, I can’t explain it properly.’ I glanced across to Mutti and frowned. I really didn’t have time but I knew how she worried about being misunderstood.

  ‘All right.’

  At the delicatessen, Mutti explained to me what she was after, which I translated to the shopkeeper behind the counter. He was patient enough, allowing Mutti to try a few different cheeses until she found what she wanted. But I did notice the woman waiting behind us begin to get restless, muttering under her breath.

  Finally we made our purchases and the woman rushed to the counter, glaring at us. It was then that I saw a man waiting by the door, staring. I ushered Mutti out, hoping she hadn’t noticed his expression. Something about him reminded me of the man I’d encountered at the train station when the girls and I had travelled from Bonegilla to Sydney. It was hatred, I realised with a flash of recognition, and I had no desire to become the target of his anger.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted a voice behind us. I slipped my arm around Mutti’s waist.

  ‘Keep walking,’ I said to her.

  The man from the deli caught up with us. He stopped in front of us and caught a whiff of odour from the cheese Mutti had bought.

  ‘You stinking Krauts,’ he said with disgust. Mutti flinched as if she’d been slapped and I could feel my cheeks flame with colour

  ‘You come here and think you own the place but you can’t even speak English,’ he snarled. People hurried past on the other side of the road, ignoring the angry outburst. ‘My wife shouldn’t have to wait while you talk amongst yourselves and make up your mind. Show some respect or go back to your Nazi-loving country.’

  ‘Leave us alone,’ I said, white-hot anger coursing through me. ‘We’re decent, hardworking people and we deserve to be here as much as you do.’

  He glowered at me, turned on his heel and returned to the delicatessen while Mutti stared in shock.

  ‘Are you all right, Mutti?’

  She nodded, shaking like a leaf. I was feeling rather light-headed myself.

  ‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’

  We were nearly home before she was able to speak.

  ‘How can people be so cruel? What’s wrong with this country?’

  ‘The same thing happened to me not long after we arrived, but there are narrow-minded bigots wherever you go.’

  The terrible encounter of three years earlier had come flooding back and with it the feelings of disbelief and utter humiliation. I couldn’t protect myself or my children from that vicious verbal attack but now I could stand up for myself. I thought about how far I’d come since that time. My English was good now and I was managing on my own with Erich in hospital, something I’d never envisaged back then.

  ‘Only ignorant, primitive people behave this way,’ she said, her outrage taking over. At least she was getting over the shock.

  ‘Don’t take it to heart. Australians are mostly kind and friendly. The stationmaster’s wife helped me that day and look at how Suzanne loves you.’

  ‘I never thought it would be this difficult.’

  ‘It will get easier but I think that until you feel confident on your own, one of us will come shopping with you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lotte. All I wanted to do was help.’

  I squeezed her hand, swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘But you do.’

  *

  After Erich’s accident there had been little time to even think about what was happening on the farm, let alone head out there to do anything.

  It was past harvest time when we finally got out there. The corn crop had been destroyed. The cobs were mouldy, shoots sticking out from the sprouted seeds, and some were fermenting and rotting in their husks. I was told by one of the neighbours, a farmer, that it was because of all the rain we’d had. It was such a waste and I berated myself for allowing it to become ruined. All Erich’s hard work had been for nothing and any extra income we were hoping for was lost. All the crop was good for now was pig and cow fodder. I debated whether to leave it in the field to rot as I had so little time or to find a local farmer who would buy it for feed.

  It was Reinhardt who once again saved the day. A friend of his who had a dairy near Cobbitty would take the corn – not just the cobs but the stalks too – for his cows and pigs. Reinhardt arranged for someone to cut the corn and transport it for a small fee. We didn’t make a great amount but at least the paddock was cleared, the corn gone and not wasted.

  We wouldn’t have managed if it hadn’t been for Franz, Claudia and Ernst. Franz, although he had so little time himself between work and studying for his law degree, insisted on driving out to the farm with us on Sundays so we could begin making preparations to move. Franz and Ernst finished off the garage, installing the glass door and two panes of fixed glass where the garage doors would have been. I felt a glow of pride seeing it completed. Erich had made sure it was solidly built on a concrete slab and it looked neat and tidy, white fibro with wood panelling at the apex of the pitched corrugated iron roof to meet the door frame below.

  ‘It’s not very big,’ said Claudia. We were standing inside the garage. It was enough for a single car and a small workshop and I wondered how we’d fit everything in the space.

  ‘It’s not for long,’ I said, putting on a brave face. ‘We’ll put the lounge and dining area at the front where you come in the door. I’ll partition off the bedroom at the back with the wardrobes and we’ll have a small kitchen area next to it.’

  ‘One bedroom for all of you?’ Claudia looked at me dubiously.

  I shrugged. ‘It will have to do for now. We’ll fit bunks for the girls and a bed for Mutti.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll sleep on the lounge. It’s a fold-out and it’ll do the job until we can build the house.’

  ‘You’re a braver woman than me,’ she said, shaking her head.


  Franz and Ernst also erected two small sheds at the back of the garage, one around the toilet – a bucket with a toilet seat and lid – and the other to house a bathroom and laundry. Together with Claudia and the children, and even Mutti, we tidied up around the property and prepared the ground to start a small garden to grow as many vegetables as we could to cut down our costs.

  The frost in those early mornings of winter made the grass white and it crunched under our feet as we walked across the paddock. It reminded me a little of Germany and made me surprisingly wistful for the days of the first snows, when winter really arrived. Although after the war they’d been our most difficult days, they were also our most treasured. When the snows came, we spent more time indoors as a family. Those days seemed a lifetime ago.

  ‘How are you such an expert at all this work?’ I asked Franz and Ernst as I handed them cups of steaming coffee from the thermos. ‘Surely there wasn’t much call for such skills living in Berlin?’

  Franz leant on the shovel, white puffs of mist from his mouth punctuating the still morning air as he held the cup in leather-gloved hands. ‘I learnt a great variety of skills and did many different things over the years,’ he said loftily, his eyes sparkling.

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ said Ernst, sipping the hot liquid. ‘I had a farm back in Germany and Franz helped me during many of his holidays.’

  ‘He insisted that I learn the value of manual labour,’ said Franz.

  ‘I couldn’t let his hands become soft and useless while studying law.’

  ‘No, that would’ve been a tragedy,’ said Franz, rolling his eyes.

  ‘You have no idea what a tragedy it might have been,’ Ernst said softly.

  Franz shook his head in frustration. ‘Leave it be,’ he said, glaring at his uncle. There was an undercurrent of bitterness between the two men and I wondered about their relationship. Ernst was good to us, helping get the farm ready to move in, but I knew Claudia didn’t care for him. I wondered if he was controlling, like my mother could be.