by Unknown
Back among the guests, Helene had just decided to leave – after all, nurses were supposed to be back in the hostel by ten, and the night shift didn’t end until six in the morning – when she found a young man standing beside her, smiling. He kept smiling down at her so persistently that it looked as if he thought he knew her.
Our friend Wilhelm, said Erich, appearing behind the young man.
Now let me guess, said Wilhelm, let me guess her name.
He’s guessing everyone’s names tonight, explained Erich, slapping his friend on the shoulder. Erich laughed. He’s another Hanussen, oh yes, he’s a real clairvoyant.
Wilhelm removed Erich’s hand from his shoulder. Nonsense, I’m no Hanussen.
He’s only once really had it off with anyone, and not even with a lady. Erich’s eyes pierced Helene.
Wilhelm wasn’t letting Erich embarrass him. He looked searchingly at Helene. Don’t worry, it’s only a game. Wilhelm leaned sideways, as if Helene’s name were written on a note attached to her temple. Then he nodded. Alice. Her name is Alice.
Erich laughed. Fanny, who had joined them, mopped her inflamed eyes and asked Erich to get her an absinthe. Erich did not comply with Fanny’s request; his eyes were on Helene’s face, boring into her own eyes, her cheeks, her mouth.
Well, isn’t she a woman after your own heart? Willy here adores blondes. Erich clapped his friend hard on the shoulder as if he had to tenderize him, like a schnitzel. There may not be much else to say for her, but she’s blonde. Erich laughed, in the belief that he had cracked a joke. His glance showed how readily he would grab Helene if they were alone. Suspecting nothing of that, Wilhelm stood with his back to his friend and there was surprise, almost amazement in his eyes.
At least you’re captivatingly beautiful, dear young lady, stammered Wilhelm. Alice. I’m sure you’re going to tell me your real name.’
Helene tried to summon up a friendly smile. Over Wilhelm’s shoulder she saw the clock in the corridor. The white grandfather clock said nine-thirty. Helene said she was about to leave.
What, already? Wilhelm couldn’t believe it. The party’s only just begun. Surely you’re not going to leave now, on your own?
I must, said Helene with her friendly smile.
Because of the hostel. Erich ran his tongue over his teeth and clicked it suggestively. The effect was obscene. She lives in the sisters’ hostel.
A nun, the Virgin Mary. Wilhelm believed it at once.
Nonsense. Erich set him right. Not that kind of sister, you idiot. She’s a nursing sister.
A nursing sister. Wilhelm spoke respectfully as if there were no difference to speak of between a nun, the Virgin Mary and a nurse. I’ll walk you back.
Thank you, but please don’t bother. Helene stepped to one side and tried to get past this tall young man called Wilhelm. He went to the door with her, helped her into her coat and said goodnight.
Next day Wilhelm suddenly turned up at the hospital. Nurse, he said, you must help me.
Helene was in no mood for companionable laughter and meaningful glances; she wanted to get on with her work. The beds in Ward 20 still had to be made, and the patient in Ward 31 who couldn’t get to the lavatory without help had rung for her ten minutes ago.
Nurse Alice, I’m going to sit on this bench. You can call the watchman or the medical director if you like, but I’m going to wait here until you come off duty. I don’t suppose that will be so very long, will it?
Helene let him sit there and went about her work. She had to keep passing him for over two hours, and the girls in the nurses’ room kept on whispering. That charming gentleman in the corridor, he must be courting her. What a handsome man, how good-looking with his fair hair and blue eyes! One of the nurses stopped beside Wilhelm and struck up a conversation with him. Later, passing Helene, she said: Let me know if you don’t fancy him and I’ll take him.
Helene would have liked to say she could take whatever she liked, but she found it difficult to answer the nurses’ whispers. Her tongue was too heavy in her mouth. As she was washing an old man’s genitals and buttocks, going carefully with his bedsores and burst boils, all the little wounds oozing pus that she tended with ointment and powder, she couldn’t help thinking of Carl, and how he would never come and fetch her now. Never again. Helene’s throat hurt, it felt tight and she couldn’t swallow. With her fingers covered in powder and ointment, Helene couldn’t wipe her eyes.
Your hands are so soft, nurse, they do me good. I always ask after you and whether you’re on duty. You were born for this profession, did you know, Nurse Helene? The old man lying on his bed with his back to Helene – she would have thought he must cry out with pain when she touched his sore flesh – twisted round so that he could at least look her way. He put out his hand and pulled her sleeve. There, he said, pointing to the bedside table. Look in the drawer, Nurse Helene, there’s some money there, do take it.
Helene shook her head and thanked him, but said she didn’t want his money. Whenever anyone gave her a present she returned it. Just sometimes she found coins in her apron pocket that someone had dropped into it unnoticed. This old man had been in the ward for two weeks and his condition was deteriorating. He was disappointed that Helene didn’t want his money. Take it, he insisted, if you don’t take it someone else will steal it.
Let them. Helene put the lid on the powder box, spread the covers over him, and took the basin to throw away the water and clean both it and her hands. Another patient, behind her, was groaning, saying he couldn’t wait any longer. She went over to the man’s bed; he needed the bedpan and asked Helene to stay with him, because he couldn’t manage on his own. A man in the next bed was wailing with pain in a strained, hoarse voice, to attract Helene’s attention. Then he pulled himself together as well as he could.
Two hours later, when Helene had hung up her overall in the locker and put on her skirt, pullover and jacket, Wilhelm was still waiting patiently on the bench in the corridor.
Would she like to come and have coffee? Helene agreed, not that she wanted to, but it seemed the course of least resistance. Outside the door she tried to put up her umbrella, but it stuck. Laughing and ignoring the rain, not to mention her struggle with the umbrella, Wilhelm was telling her something about feedback on the People’s Wireless, a radio device to be unveiled and demonstrated to the public in a few months’ time at the Great German Wireless Exhibition. From amplifier to amplifier, said Wilhelm, spreading his arms wide to show her how many of these new technological developments there were, more than would fit between them. Helene liked his enthusiasm. They walked to the bank of the Spree Canal. You could create the necessary sensitivity by feedback to the high frequency stage, he said. Helene didn’t understand, but she stood there with him out of civility as he stopped in mid-sentence to show her, by gestures, how she must imagine the construction of the device.
Helene now knew that he was an engineer, but it wasn’t clear whether he was talking about inventions of his own or other people’s. She still didn’t understand what he was talking about, but she liked hearing him and watching as he mopped the rain from his brow with his handkerchief. After all, he said, he was sure she couldn’t imagine the extent of possible communication and the amount of information that could be transmitted. In the end everyone would be able to receive the same information at the same time, learning about events that otherwise they would have heard of only by going to some trouble or from reading the newspaper days later – and which newspaper anyway? There were far too many newspapers now. Wilhelm’s dismissive gesture was friendly but determined. There was something infectious about his pleasure and Helene had to smile. She had managed to open the umbrella. Would he like to come under it?
Of course, said Wilhelm, taking the umbrella from Helene’s hand so that she wouldn’t have to reach too high. Sweet girls, he knew, need sweet cakes, said Wilhelm, making straight for a little café. They had apple cake and coffee. Helene didn’t like either, but she didn’t want t
o be difficult or attract any unnecessary attention. Wilhelm said, and there was no missing the pride in his voice, that within weeks they’d be able to go into full production of wireless sets, so that enough of this new invention could be sold at the Wireless Exhibition. What did she think of naming it Salvation Wireless, asked Wilhelm, laughing. Just my little joke, he added, there are better names. Helene didn’t understand his joke, but she liked to hear him sound so pleased with himself.
She hid her weariness behind her smile. After her long day’s work at the hospital, exhaustion was now spreading through her as she sat eating cake and drinking coffee. She felt she was behaving properly to Wilhelm if she looked attentive, sometimes raising her eyebrows as if in surprise, and nodding now and then. The words transmitter and receiver took on a significance of their own as she listened to him. A newspaper boy came into the café. There were not many people here, but he took off his cap and cried his wares. The headlines of the evening papers were speculating on the identity of those behind the fire in the Reichstag building.
Over these last few weeks a mood of gloomy indignation had been abroad in the trams and underground trains. Wherever people met, their faces reddened by the cold, their coats sometimes not long enough because fabric taken from them had been needed to make a child a jacket, there was complaint, discontent and argument. They weren’t going to put up with this much longer, they said. No one could be expected to take this kind of thing lying down, not any more, they weren’t going to let the authorities do as they fancied with them. Men and women alike were upset.
Wilhelm fetched Helene from the hospital as often as he could. Communist after communist was arrested. Wilhelm went walking with his blonde Alice and took her to the café. He said he liked to watch her eating cake, she always looked as if she hadn’t eaten properly for days. Helene stopped eating in alarm. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know what Wilhelm thought when he saw her eating. Eating had become a mere nuisance to her, and she often forgot about it until evening. She didn’t like the apple cake, she just swallowed it as quickly as possible to get it over with. Wilhelm asked if he could order her another slice. Helene shook her head and said no, thank you. Her dimples were so pretty, said Wilhelm, beaming as he looked her in the face. To her own annoyance, Helene was embarrassed. Did she like the theatre, the cinema? She nodded. It was a long time since she’d been to the cinema; she didn’t have the money, and she had only once agreed to go with Leontine and Martha when they asked her. During the picture she’d found herself crying, which she didn’t like. She never used to cry in the cinema. So she shook her head.
Yes or no, asked Wilhelm.
No, said Helene.
Wilhelm asked Helene to go dancing with him. One day it seemed like too much trouble to turn him down, so she agreed. They went to a dance, and he took her face in his hands, kissed her forehead and told her he was in love with her.
Helene was not pleased to hear it. She closed her eyes so as to keep him from looking at her. Wilhelm thought that was charming and took it as agreement, an announcement that she would soon be ready to be his. It was a good thing Wilhelm didn’t know about the passion with which Helene had invited and responded to Carl’s kisses. SA troops stormed the ‘Red Block’ of the artists’ colony in Wilmersdorf, where writers and artists were arrested and some of their books were burned. Spring came, and there were more book-burnings. Helene heard from Martha that the Baron was among those who had been arrested. Pina was trying to find out the reasons for his arrest; she was desperate to know; she visited all his acquaintances asking them to help her. One day rumour said that he was in contact with the Communist Party, the next that he had been distributing Social Democrat leaflets. Wilhelm wasn’t waiting to find out whether Helene returned his feelings; his own desire filled him and that was enough. He called her Alice, although he knew now that she was Helene. But Alice was his name for her.
In spring the newly elected National Socialist Party organized a boycott. The idea was to leave certain parasites, useless mouths, to starve to death. No one was to buy from Jewish tradesmen, or get shoes mended by a Jewish cobbler, no one was to visit a Jewish doctor or consult a Jewish lawyer. It was wrong for Germans to be out of work while others lived on the fat of the land, the medical director of the hospital explained to the nurses. They nodded; some of them came up with special instances of this unjust state of affairs. The bubbly nurse, who as everyone knew was Jewish, had been fired suddenly last week. No one wondered where she was, no one missed her. Her family might not be prosperous, but why should she have a job when others didn’t? Once she had gone no one mentioned her any more. Another nurse replaced her. There was much talk about the living space that the German people needed.
Wilhelm fetched Helene from work. As usual, she had been on duty for ten hours, and with the two brief breaks in her shift had been at the hospital for eleven hours in all. He took her arm and led her to the café, and although it was already six in the evening Wilhelm ordered cake and coffee. He drew Helene close to him over the table and told her she must keep a secret. He wasn’t just responsible for building the 4A Berlin to Stettin road, he said, and what was more, some day, as she’d see, it would go all the way to Königsberg! Wilhelm’s eyes were shining. His voice dropped even lower. But the secret was this: he had been chosen as the engineer to take the wireless apparatus developed under his supervision to Stettin airfield and get it installed on the tall mast there, because the airfield was to be converted for use by the Luftwaffe. Wilhelm was beaming, and looked not so much proud as bold and determined. His eyes saw adventure, promised adventure. Wilhelm picked up his cake fork, broke off a piece of cake and put the fork to his mouth. His area of work had shifted so far in the direction of Pomerania, he told her, that it had been suggested he should move there.
Helene nodded. She didn’t really envy Wilhelm his ability to enjoy life and his enthusiasm, his belief that he was able to do something important for the German people, for mankind, and in particular for technical progress. But she liked his frank pleasure, the ease with which he laughed and slapped his thigh. It was pleasantly uncomplicated, like the giggling of the nurses.
Are you glad? Wilhelm asked Helene. He lowered his arm and his fork when he noticed that she was not reacting, and didn’t open her mouth to eat more of her own cake.
Please don’t ask me. Helene looked up from her cup of coffee and out of the window.
But I must ask you, said Wilhelm. I don’t want to be without you in my future life, he said, and bit his lip ruefully, because he had meant to keep such a confession for the moment when he asked a certain question. However, Helene didn’t seem to have heard him.
When Wilhelm came back from Pomerania in spring, after a good month away drawing up plans, he bought two rings from the jeweller’s at the railway station and went to fetch Helene from the hospital. He held one of the rings under her nose and asked if she would be his wife.
Helene couldn’t meet his eyes.
She wondered what to tell him. She knew how to beam and smile, that was easy, you just had to lift the corners of your mouth and widen your eyes at the same time. Perhaps, imitating happiness like that, you could even feel a moment of the real thing?
Surprised, aren’t you?
Something like me isn’t supposed to exist at all. It burst out of her.
What on earth do you mean? Wilhelm was at a loss.
I mean I don’t have any papers, any certificate of my descent, and if I did, said Helene, laughing herself now, well, the word Mosaic would come under the definition of my mother’s faith.
Wilhelm looked keenly at her. Why do you say such things, Alice? Your mother lives somewhere in Lusatia. Didn’t your sister say she was a difficult case? It sounded as if she was ill. Are you fond of her, do the festivals she celebrates mean anything to you? Incredulously, Wilhelm shook his head, and there was confident determination in his face. Come away with me, be my wife and let’s begin a life together.
Hel
ene was silent. A man like Wilhelm knew nothing of danger and obstacles that must be overcome. Helene didn’t look at him; she felt a strange stiffness at the back of her neck. If she shook her head he might call her cowardly, spineless. She would stay here. But where?
Are you telling me you distrust me because I’m German, with a German mother and a German father, and they had German mothers and fathers too? he asked.
I don’t distrust you. Helene shook her head. How could Wilhelm see her hesitation simply as distrust? She didn’t want to annoy him. She rather doubted what other options she had open to her. Her own mother was German, but obviously Wilhelm now understood being German in a different way. In modern opinion, German identity was expressed in racial characteristics and required the right sort of blood.
Your name is Alice, do you hear? If I say so it is so. If you don’t have a certificate of ancestry I’ll get you one, and believe me, it will be unobjectionable, it will leave no doubt as to your healthy descent.
You’re out of your mind. Helene was shocked. Could Wilhelm possibly be referring to the new laws whereby every deformity seen in the hospital had to be recorded and reported, because the birth of offspring with hereditary disease must be prevented? And weren’t certain mental illnesses, like the psychological disturbance that many of their neighbours detected in her own mother, also considered hereditary, to be avoided at all costs? The first commandment was to be bursting with good health, and anyone who couldn’t boast such health had better die as quickly as possible before the German people ran the risk of infection, of being besmirched and made unclean by the birth of sick children.
Don’t you believe me? I’ll do anything for you, Alice, anything.
What do you mean about healthy descent? Helene knew she wasn’t going to get a logical answer from Wilhelm.