Suitcase of Dreams

by Tania Blanchard

  ‘I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.’ A spasm of pain crossed his face, catching my breath.

  ‘At least now I understand why you felt compelled to do what you did.’

  ‘And I understand what I put you through. Proving myself worthy of you nearly drove you away. Can you ever forgive me?’ His eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

  I cupped his cheek. ‘You know I already have, but I’m not the same woman that I was. Too much has happened.’

  We had been through so much after twenty years of marriage and were still together but we had to accept how close we’d come to losing each other. It had forced us to talk about all that had happened since arriving in Australia openly and honestly, how we had drifted from one another. Slowly the rift between us was closing.

  ‘I know. I couldn’t expect you to be . . . but where do we go from here?’ He pushed away the rumpled sheets with his feet.

  ‘I think we keep talking, rediscover each other.’

  ‘Like this?’ He caressed the line of my hip and thigh, a slight smile playing on his lips.

  ‘Uh huh. We could be stronger than we ever were.’

  Staring into the brilliant green eyes that gazed adoringly at me, I silently thanked God for this man, the one I was blessed to share my life with.

  It was walking along the bush track at dusk later that day that I remembered my conversation with Claudia.

  ‘Claudia and Franz are still having trouble,’ I said.

  Erich’s brow creased with concern. ‘What do you mean?’

  I told him of Claudia’s concerns and her vow to discover the reason for Ernst’s hold on her husband.

  ‘Surely it’s best left in the past?’ said Erich, holding a branch out of the way for me.

  That was what we had all believed when we came to Australia, but now I realised that the past never stayed in the past, especially when unfinished business was concerned. Most of us had unresolved issues, complicated truths that we thought we had left behind in Europe, things too painful for us to dwell on or acknowledge. But these were the demons that drove us forward and shaped our actions, that created our future in this new land, and I now understood that sooner or later we would all have to confront what we’d left behind.

  ‘She can’t take much more.’

  ‘Is it really that bad?’

  ‘I think so. Claudia’s seen another side to him and I saw it too when he lashed out at Peter.’ I stopped and looked up at the pink blush fading into the purple sky. His hand slid across my shoulder and down my arm, the calluses on his palm rough against my skin, and I leant towards him.

  ‘We have to help them. Claudia’s worried about Franz too. He’s been having episodes of deep melancholy where he plays the piano for hours and won’t respond to anyone.’

  ‘Perhaps he needs professional help,’ said Erich quietly. We’d both seen men and women disappear into the depths of despair after the things they’d experienced during the war. Many never returned.

  ‘Maybe he just needs Ernst to go.’

  Erich shuffled uneasily beside me. ‘It’s not our business.’

  I understood his reluctance to get involved in such situations. ‘Erich, they’re our best friends. Perhaps you can talk to Franz.’

  ‘All right. I know he wants to set up his own law practice. I’ll go and talk to him, ask him how he’s going.’

  I smiled at him, the branches behind him forming delicate silhouettes in the dying light. The first stars twinkled in the velvety darkness like the first rays of hope. I clasped his hand in mine.

  ‘Let’s go home.’

  *

  The girls and I were having lunch at Mutti’s one Saturday. I was doing fewer weddings and had more free time. Hilde was out visiting Claudia. It was a good opportunity for us all to get together. Mutti and I were getting along much better, but she refused to come to the house or to see Erich.

  ‘How’s school, Greta?’ asked Mutti, passing the mashed potato across the tiny table to Johanna. She still cooked a hot meal at lunch on the days she didn’t work and had a light, cold dinner at night. Some habits die hard, but with Mutti I was sure it was pure stubbornness to keep as many traditions from Germany as possible.

  ‘Good, Grossmama. I’m studying hard.’

  ‘Do you know what you want to do when you finish?’

  ‘I want to become a nurse.’ The time Erich had spent in hospital had opened her eyes to the medical world and ignited her interest.

  ‘Where do you do that?’

  ‘I want to try for one of the big Sydney hospitals. The training and lectures are run through them.’

  Mutti put down her knife and fork. ‘What do you mean try? If you study hard, surely you’ll have your pick of the best hospitals. You’re a clever girl, after all. In fact, why not consider something like law? I know girls these days can do anything they want. Surely it’s better paying and better on your body. All that lifting and wiping bottoms. You don’t need that.’

  ‘But she doesn’t like law, she likes anything medical,’ said Johanna with a slight tone of defiance. Mutti stared at her for a second with steely eyes.

  ‘What about medicine then? I’m sure Doctor Rodsky could help you if you were interested.’ She and Rudi were almost inseparable these days. Erich was disapproving at first, since they weren’t married, but when Greta told him that he was a fossil and living in the dark ages, he tactfully kept his opinions to himself.

  ‘I don’t want to be a doctor. I want to look after the whole person.’ She had a deeply caring nature that was essential to nursing.

  ‘It’s a good profession, one she can continue with anywhere,’ I said, interrupting before Mutti could say more.

  ‘All right then. If that’s what you want to do.’ She looked down at her plate. ‘I suppose your mother knows best. You’ll do well at whatever you decide to do.’

  If anything, her beloved grandmother’s criticism pushed Greta to work harder than ever to be accepted for nursing.

  *

  ‘Let’s go somewhere this weekend,’ said Erich one night while we were having dinner.

  ‘Haven’t you got work to do?’ I asked absently, trying to go over the weekend work roster in my mind, making sure I had the right photographers on the right jobs.

  ‘It can wait until next week.’

  ‘Do you have to study?’ I asked Greta.

  ‘Yes. I have too much to do,’ she said. ‘And I have to prepare for my interview at the hospital.’

  ‘Which one is this?’ asked Karoline.

  ‘The one I want to get into, Royal Prince Alfred.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine. They’d be lucky to have you,’ said Karoline, smiling proudly.

  ‘Thank you, Omi.’

  ‘But that’s not for a few weeks yet,’ I said. A weekend away with all of us together would be wonderful. ‘What about you, Johanna? Any homework you have to finish?’

  Johanna shook her head, gingerly chewing the lamb’s fry I’d cooked, then swallowed heavily. She still didn’t enjoy liver but I continued to cook it with mashed potatoes because I knew that Erich and Karoline loved it and it was packed with goodness.

  ‘We’re all going to take a little trip. It’s settled,’ said Erich. ‘You can bring your books, Greta. You’ll come too, Mutti, won’t you?’ He looked across to Karoline. Apart from outings with the women from the book club and our Sunday drives, she rarely went out unless Erich or I took her somewhere.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Karoline, her cutlery placed across her plate. There was still some food left, even though I’d served her a small amount. She ate so little these days. I would have berated my children for leaving anything on their plates but I now just wondered how well Karoline was feeling. Maybe Johanna and I should bake some biscuits or a cake to entice her to eat a little more.

  ‘The Abercrombie River,’ said Erich.

  I looked at Johanna, Greta and Karoline. Their faces were as blank as I’m sure
mine was. ‘Where? I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s out past Goulburn. One of my customers has a caravan there that we can stay in. It’s pristine and untouched bushland, he said. We’ll see all sorts of wildlife. You never know what we might find.’

  ‘So it’s a work trip to find timber,’ said Greta flatly. ‘How far away is this place? It doesn’t sound very exciting.’ Greta’s face had gone from blank to annoyed but Johanna’s eyes were sparkling with interest. She loved the outdoors.

  ‘A few hours’ drive and, no, it’s not a work trip.’

  ‘Why don’t you and Mutti go? It’s been forever since the two of you had a weekend together.’ Greta glanced at me to gauge my reaction.

  My heart fell. We’d left this too late. Greta was nineteen and getting too old to want to spend the weekend with us. Johanna wouldn’t be far behind.

  ‘No, we’re all going. There’s no more to it. We’re spending the weekend together as a family.’

  I smiled but Greta’s face was stony.

  ‘I thought we could all explore a little bit. If it’s warm enough you can swim in the river. Besides, I thought you might like to come trout fishing with me.’ He looked at Greta and Johanna with an injured expression. The girls used to love fishing with their father but fishing trips had been far and few between for some time. ‘Come on, it will be fun, like old times.’

  Johanna looked pleadingly at Greta, who shrugged. ‘All right, Vati, we’ll go,’ she said and Johanna smiled gratefully.

  He sat back in his chair as though he was the magnanimous lord of his castle and people but I could see the twinkle in his eyes – he was very excited, and I shared that feeling. This was our first weekend away and I loved the Australian bush.

  ‘Wonderful,’ I said, smiling. ‘Our first holiday!’

  18

  I had no idea that our trip to the Abercrombie would leave such a lasting impression on me. We had been on day trips often with Franz and Claudia and Reinhardt to the Blue Mountains, Kiama and the beach at Bulli and I had loved everything I’d seen and experienced, but they didn’t prepare me for this. My reaction was visceral – I fell in love with the place immediately and, to my amazement, so did Erich.

  I read the map and Erich drove. Once we left the Hume Highway after Mittagong, civilisation fell away as farms were gradually replaced by bushland. Sections of the Wombeyan Caves road were unsealed, narrow, rugged and winding, making the journey slow, but I didn’t mind. It was beautiful, breathtaking really, coming down to the Wollondilly River, great sandstone cliffs shining yellow in the sunlight and standing like guardians over the glittering river that flowed between them. I couldn’t stop smiling. Then, coming up the other side, spectacular views of the surrounding forest and mountain peaks in muted tones of green met us with each turn in the road. At one point I feared that we were lost in the middle of nowhere, but suddenly we reached the Abercrombie River, driving along a narrow road, the river just below us down a very steep slope on the right hand side of the car. Erich’s client had given us directions to his caravan, which was parked on a stretch of flat, grassed land by the river.

  As I stepped out of the car, I felt the spirit of the bush embrace us. It was alive, the peace punctuated by birdcalls, the burble of the river and the gentle sighing of the breeze in the trees.

  Erich climbed stiffly out of the car, groaning softly.

  ‘All right?’ I asked.

  ‘Just my leg,’ he said, rubbing his knee. ‘I’m not used to sitting in the car for so long.’ He tried bending it a few times, like he was oiling the joint, then he straightened and placed weight gingerly on his foot, taking in his surroundings. ‘I have a good feeling about this weekend,’ he said.

  I took his arm and kissed him on the neck. ‘Mmm, so do I.’

  Karoline came to stand beside us, but Greta and Johanna wasted no time heading to the river’s edge.

  The caravan was adequate: a double bed for Erich and me, a single pull-out sofa for Karoline and cushions on the floor with eiderdowns and blankets for the girls. A little table and bench made the whole arrangement quite civilised. I knew Erich would have loved to go camping in tents but it was too hard on his leg and too much for Karoline. At the end of the war Erich and I had slept out in the open, under bushes and on rough ground with nothing more than our coats, but we were twenty years younger. One of the benefits of getting older, I realised, was that I didn’t have to punish my body unnecessarily. I could still enjoy the outdoors with the comfort of a caravan.

  After we had unpacked and eaten the sandwiches I’d brought, the girls went exploring while Erich prepared the fishing rods to hopefully catch us some dinner. Karoline and I went for a walk to collect firewood.

  ‘You seem happy,’ she said. There was no one else on the little dirt track and it was as if we were the only people in the world.

  ‘I am,’ I said, somehow surprised now that I’d said it out loud. ‘I love the river and the bush. Who wouldn’t be happy in such a beautiful place as this? It’s so peaceful, so healing.’

  ‘It’s home for you,’ said Karoline, looking curiously at me, the gold in her hazel eyes gleaming in the sunlight.

  We kept walking while I thought about that. We were surrounded by green, soft against the stark, sculptural white of limbs and trunks, delicate ribbons of bark twisting down their lengths in shades of grey and brown.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ I said after a while. ‘There’s something about the Australian bush that I feel very drawn to.’

  ‘I can see Erich feels that way too,’ she said. ‘His fascination shows in the way he brings Australian timbers to life in his furniture. His father would have been so proud of him. I understand why he wanted to come out here. He wants to see how it all fits together.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The river, the bush and the animals, the plants and flowers . . . there’s oneness here – it’s untouched.’

  ‘I know what you mean – the spirit of this place,’ I said. ‘I felt it when I got out of the car.’

  ‘You and Erich have found your place in the world. Australia is where you’re both meant to be. I didn’t understand that for a long time, even when I first arrived here, but I can see it now.’

  ‘Things are finally coming together for us. It’s taken a long time but I think Erich’s accident was a blessing in disguise. He loves his work and he’s doing well.’

  ‘What about you? Do you love what you’re doing?’

  I stared down the track, the red-brown dirt leading us to who knew where. ‘I do. In fact, I’m almost running the business, but I have to say that I’ve often thought about the creative work that Otto does and watching Erich work with timber has made me realise that I want to photograph the Australian landscape and its animals as well as its people.’ I had brought my camera and couldn’t wait to take some photos. There were perfect shots everywhere I looked.

  ‘Have you ever considered painting the landscape rather than photographing it?’

  I stopped walking and looked at her. She was frowning.

  ‘I’ve seen you paint and draw, Lotte. You’re very talented. Erich’s finally using his talents, and see what he’s capable of. Maybe you should try while he’s fishing. This is the place to feel inspiration if ever there was one.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know how to start.’

  ‘I’m sure that won’t stop you. Promise me you’ll think about it.’

  ‘OK, I’ll think about it,’ I said to appease her. But the seed was sown. ‘We’d better head back now and see what they’ve caught for dinner,’ I said reluctantly, wondering what I would have found further down the track.

  Erich and the girls had caught plenty of fish and Karoline and I had brought back enough wood to make a good camp fire that would keep us warm as the sun began to set. I left them to scale and gut the fish while I wandered along the bank of the river with my camera, watching the reflection of the trees and the sky change colour.

  A rustle of dry
grass behind me made me turn.

  Erich approached. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘I’m getting some wonderful shots.’

  ‘The fish are ready to cook.’ He wrapped his arms around me as we watched the sun begin to sink behind the trees. The world changed once again, the inky black shadows beginning to lengthen, and a stillness settled on the bush. The soft breeze carried in it a chill and a kookaburra punctuated the silence with its raucous laugh. I felt at one with the coming night.

  Erich pulled me closer. ‘We might have to send the others to find more firewood, I think. That fish will need a lot of cooking.’

  ‘Maybe we have to go and find firewood,’ I murmured. ‘Who knows, we might get lost for a while.’

  Erich jerked. ‘What, out in the open?’

  ‘Why not? Nobody’s around, and it’s not like we haven’t done it before.’

  He kissed my temple. ‘That was a very long time ago. I was young and fit back then.’

  I looked at him, but he only shrugged and glanced at his leg.

  ‘You mean to say that you’re not up to it any more?’

  His eyes levelled with mine, still bright green in the fading light and full of promise. ‘If you’re game, then so am I.’

  *

  After that trip to the Abercrombie, we bought a caravan and Erich and I spent weekends at the river whenever we could. Between Johanna studying for her final exams and Greta studying nursing at the hospital, they couldn’t manage to join us often. Karoline was happy to stay at home to keep one or both of them company; the trip was too long and tiring for her. But she insisted I paint while I was there, and even took the girls shopping for supplies. She wanted to see the countryside through my eyes, she said. There was only so much walking and reading I could do while Erich fished, so I obliged.

  Even with my weekly art classes, my first attempts were terrible but slowly, the more I practised and experimented, the more my paintings resembled the landscape. I tried watercolour and oils in my attempt to recreate the beauty of the gum trees and the way the light played across the river snaking through the bushland. The colours were hardest to get right, because the river constantly shifted: silver in the early morning light, still as a mirror, reflecting the blue sky and leafy hills, other times slow and ponderous, dark and mysterious, and softly golden at sunset.