‘Yes, you had better do that,’ Ursula concurred.
Sigmund nodded, and disappeared in the direction of his study.
Theodora, who had been fumbling around in the pocket of her blue wool dress, pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry I broke down before, Frau Westheim. But I couldn’t help it. This has been the most terrifying experience. I know one thing… I’ll never forget the ninth of November… Henrietta Mandelbaum’s twenty-first birthday and the night the Nazis torched the Central Synagogue. No, I’ll never forget it,’ she finished vehemently. ‘Not as long as I live.’
‘I don’t think anyone will,’ Ursula replied.
She rose, walked over to a window, drew open the draperies and stood looking out at the sky. It was jet black and littered with bright stars, and on the horizon she could see a jagged patch of red flaring upwards. Fire, she thought. They’re burning something else in another part of the city. Another synagogue perhaps. Or someone’s home. Or both. Where will this end? Dear God, where will this end? She felt chilled to the bone, icy.
Sigmund did not remain on the telephone for very long, and he soon returned to the bedroom, saying with obvious relief, ‘I spoke to Hedy. The Grunewald is as peaceful and sleepy as it always is, and the night guard at the bank tells me nothing untoward is happening down there in the financial district. So perhaps the demonstrations on the Ku’damm and the Fasanenstrasse are simply isolated incidents, started by the rowdies and thugs who are so frequently out of control—’
‘I doubt that,’ Ursula remarked in the softest of voices. ‘Not when there are stormtroopers involved. This is much more serious than anything we’ve ever seen before.’
‘Perhaps,’ Sigmund muttered noncommittally. Privately he agreed with her, but he did not want to foster her alarm; nor did he wish to frighten Theodora further, who had been through enough as it was this night.
Abruptly, Ursula said, ‘It’s the beginning.’
‘The beginning of what, Frau Westheim?’ Theodora asked.
There was a silence before Ursula replied. ‘The beginning of the end of the Jews in Germany.’
***
After Theodora had gone to bed, Ursula and Sigmund sat together on the chaise, talking quietly, sharing their thoughts, trying to analyse the dramatic events of that night, trying to understand what they meant, and what they predicted for the future.
At one moment, Ursula turned to him, and said slowly, ‘Stop trying to protect me by not telling me what you truly think, Sigi. I’m far too intelligent to be duped, especially by my own husband, a man I’ve known since childhood.’
‘Yes, you are,’ he said with a faint sigh. ‘And I only meant the best for you.’
She tried to smile, unsuccessfully. ‘As always, my dearest Sigi, as always.’
Taking hold of his hand she held it very tightly in hers and after a while she said in a voice choked with emotion, ‘We have to leave, Sigi… leave this house… leave the villa in Wannsee… leave the bank… leave the art collection… leave all of our possessions… and go. We have to leave Berlin, Sigi. We have to get out of Germany.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he said with resignation. ‘I’ve known it for a long time, really, but I suppose I haven’t wanted to face it.’ He sighed again. ‘The entire family must get out. And Theodora. We cannot leave her behind, that would be unthinkable. She will come with us, and I must get exit visas for everyone, and entry visas for another country.’
‘How?’
Indeed how, he thought, but said, ‘To be honest, Ursula, I don’t know… yet. But I will. And very soon. Certainly I’ve got one thing in my favour.’
‘What is that, Sigi?’
‘Money.’
TEN
‘Entschuldigen Sie, gnadige Frau,’ the butler said, excusing himself for disturbing her.
Ursula looked across at him from the Louis XVI writing desk at the far end of the bedroom, where she sat working on some papers. ‘That’s perfectly all right, Walter. What is it?’
‘Die Grafin von Tiegal ist da, gnadige Frau.’
Ursula was momentarily startled. ‘The Countess von Tiegal is here?’ she repeated, making it sound like a question.
Walter nodded, ‘Ja, gnadige Frau.’
‘Please show her into the library, and I’ll be down in a moment. Offer her coffee, and I’ll have a cup, too. Thank you, Walter.’
‘Gnadige Frau,’ he murmured, inclining his head, backing out, and quietly closing the door behind him.
Ursula slid her papers into the top drawer of the desk, locked it and pocketed the key. She rose, smoothing down the skirt of her dark-grey woollen dress with both hands as she walked over to the dressing table, where she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her face was drawn, her mouth pale and tense, and there were dark circles under her eyes. This hardly surprised her, in view of the events of the previous night. She had not slept, had lain awake until the first light, worrying and pondering their predicament and their future. Sigmund had not slept either; he had risen at six and gone off to the bank very early. He had already spoken to her on the telephone several times since leaving the house, keeping his promise to stay in touch, to inform her of any new developments after the night of havoc in the city.
She ran a comb through her short blonde hair, smoothed a hand over it abstractedly, then walked to the door, looking at her wristwatch as she did. It was still early, not quite nine o’clock. There was no question in her mind why Renata was downstairs, asking to see her. She had come out of genuine concern for them, and Ursula was immeasurably touched by the gesture.
A moment later she was hurrying down the stairs, crossing the vast hall and pushing open the double doors which led into the library.
Renata was standing looking out of the window, and she swung around when Ursula entered and ran to meet her. She caught hold of her almost roughly, hugged her close, saying, ‘Oh, Ursi, Ursi,’ several times before releasing her. ‘Forgive me for bursting in on you like this, unannounced,’ Renata went on, ‘but I wanted to speak to you urgently, and our phone isn’t working. For some reason, it seems to be out of order this morning.’
‘It was good of you to come, Ren, and I’m glad you’re here. You always make me feel better. Walter is bringing us coffee. Come.’
Arms linked, the two of them walked over to the Biedermeier sofa, where they sat down. Drawing back and looking at her closely, Renata said, ‘Of course you know that last night’s riots were not only in Berlin, but took place all over Germany and Austria as well. Yes, I can see from your face that you do.’
‘The whole thing is incredible. Hard to believe.’
‘And even harder to stomach! You’ve seen the newspapers? Heard the radio?’
‘The papers yes, but I haven’t listened to the radio.’ Speaking quickly, Ursula explained how they had learned about the demonstrations from Theodora in the middle of the night, and recounted the girl’s experiences.
Renata had paled as she listened, and she exclaimed, ‘Teddy and her friend were extremely lucky, they could easily have been killed. Quite a few people were.’
Ursula stared at her. ‘Jews were killed.’
‘Yes.’ Renata leaned closer. ‘Listen to me, Ursula, you must—’ She broke off as Walter knocked, opened the door, and came gliding in with the coffee tray.
‘Danke schon, Walter,’ Ursula said.
The butler deposited the silver tray on the occasional table in front of the sofa and discreetly withdrew.
In hushed tones, Renata continued, with some urgency, ‘You must make plans to leave Germany. It’s not safe for you here anymore.’
‘I don’t think it has been for a long time. We should have gone last year, even the year before, perhaps. But we believed in German law and order, and we thought we were safe. We also drew comfort from the belief that Hitler couldn’t last, couldn’t possibly stay in power. Many Germans did, and not all of them Jews, you and Reinhard included. But we were all wrong. Now I don’t
think there is any turning back. This is the end. For Jews anyway.’
‘For us all.’ Renata looked at her intently, her dark eyes very bright, and blazing with sudden anger. ‘That damned megalomaniac Hitler is leading us into a dark abyss of brutality and murder. Germany is being destroyed from within by him and his depraved cohorts. Why, they’re nothing but terrorists, for God’s sake!’
‘I read in the papers that the Nazis are saying last night’s demonstrations were spontaneous. That they were provoked,’ Ursula said. ‘And all because of that seventeen-year-old German Jewish refugee living in Paris, Herschel Grynszpan, who shot and killed Ernst vom Rath, the third secretary at the German Embassy in Paris. You see, Renata, they’re blaming the Jews yet again.’
‘We read that story, but Reinhard is convinced the riots were not spontaneous, that they were cleverly and expertly orchestrated by Heydrich and the SS. And he’s right, I’m certain. What’s more, we both believe there are bound to be additional demonstrations, and many other acts of brutality directed against Jews.’ Renata shook her head, finished in a worried voice, ‘We think Hitler wants to kill every Jew in the land, Ursi.’
‘But that’s inconceivable,’ Ursula stammered. ‘How can Hitler kill an entire people? Millions of people. No one could do that…’ Her voice trailed off helplessly.
‘He aims to try.’ Renata’s tone was more apprehensive than ever. ‘Read Mein Kampf again. And believe it this time.’
‘We are Germans,’ Ursula began, and stopped abruptly.
She clenched her hands together and took a deep breath. ‘Our families, Sigi’s and mine, have been here for hundreds and hundreds of years…’ Once more she came to a halt as her voice cracked, and she looked away, steadying herself. ‘But we must leave our country… yes… we must leave this country we love… if we are to survive…’
Feelings of compassion and loving friendship washed over Renata, and she reached out, put her hand on Ursula’s arm consolingly. Ursula turned, stared into her face, and they shared a look that was very direct and intimate and full of truth.
Tears welled up in Renata when she saw the anguish casting a deep shadow across Ursula’s face, the profound sorrow darkening her soft, grey-blue eyes. ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you!’ she cried fiercely, her voice choked with anxiety. ‘I love and care for you, and for Sigi and little Maxim. So does Reinhard. We will help you in any way we can, do anything to help you leave Germany safely. And you must leave, darling, you know you must… to save yourselves.’
‘Yes.’ Ursula sat staring into the distance, her eyes focused on the pale blue sky outside the tall window, and with an unexpected rush of clarity she finally came to understand what it was that had haunted her for so long a time. For a while she was unable to say anything, so shaken and alarmed was she, but at last she turned her head and looked deeply into Renata’s eyes once more.
Renata felt as if Ursula was staring into her soul, and she shivered slightly, and said, ‘Why are you looking at me like that? Whatever is it?’
‘A moment ago I said that it was inconceivable… that Hitler cannot kill an entire people. But he can. Oh yes, he can. I know that now. The knowledge is deep within me, in my bones, in the very pores of my skin. For months I’ve had desperate feelings gnawing at me… the ones I’ve spoken to you about. I thought they were feelings of apprehension and dread, but they weren’t. What I’ve harboured within me all this time is an overwhelming sense of doom. We are doomed, my family and I.’
‘My dearest, my most beloved friend—’ Renata found she was unable to continue, so overcome was she by the pain she felt for Ursula. What she was facing was monstrous: upheaval, flight, exile. But if she and Sigi and little Maxim stayed they would be hounded, persecuted and ultimately harmed. The evil and injustice of it filled Renata with rage, and the rage swamped her and she cried passionately, ‘Those Nazi bastards! This shouldn’t be happening! It shouldn’t! It’s wrong!’
‘Don’t, darling. Please don’t. We’ll be all right. Somehow.’
Renata reached for Ursula’s hand and clasped it in her; they sat quietly, neither of them able to continue the conversation for a while.
Eventually Ursula cleared her throat and said in a voice that was oddly calm, ‘Sigi does have a plan of action, you know. He’s working on it right now. He has a good contact, apparently. He’s hoping to buy exit visas for us. And new passports.’ She paused, then went on, ‘You see, last month we had to take our passports to be stamped… with a J… for few.’
Startled and shocked, Renata looked at her in consternation. ‘How ridiculous! What evil nonsense!’
‘Yes, but the Nazis have made this a law, and we had to comply.’
Renata made a supreme effort to suppress her immense anger, control her flaring emotions, thinking that if Ursula could be so brave, so contained, then so must she. She even managed to push a smile onto her face, when she said, ‘Reinhard and I want you to come out to the Mark Brandenburg and stay at the Schloss. Until you leave Germany it will be much safer for you at our country estate than in Berlin.’
When Ursula did not immediately respond, Renata said, ‘Look,’ and took hold of her arm, brought her face closer to her friend’s, ‘it could take Sigi several weeks to get the necessary documents together, to arrange everything to facilitate your departure.’
‘It might, that’s true. And thank you for inviting us to the Schloss. It’s so kind and thoughtful of you. But I can’t leave Sigi alone here in Berlin. You know how much he needs me. We’ve never really been apart since we were children, except when I was at school in England with you and Arabella.’
‘He can see you at weekends. He can drive down to the Mark with us every Friday afternoon. Please say yes.’
Ursula remained uncertain. ‘Let me think about it, and I’ll discuss it with Sigi.’
The telephone began to ring and Ursula rushed to answer it, wanting to pick up before the butler did.
‘Hello?’ she said, fully expecting to hear her husband’s voice, but it was Arabella von Wittingen at the other end. She listened for several moments, then murmured, ‘Thank you, Belle, and I’m all right, really.’ She listened again, then quickly explained, ‘Their phone is out of order. Ren is here. Do you wish to speak with her?’ Ursula stood with the receiver pressed to her ear, nodding her head several times before she said, ‘Yes, Arabella, that’s fine. Goodbye.’
‘She’s coming over here, isn’t she?’ Renata stated as Ursula put down the phone.
‘Of course. I suppose we both knew she would. And I’m sure you’ve gathered that she’s been trying to telephone you.’
Renata nodded.
‘Arabella is in her most Bolshy and defiant mood this morning,’ Ursula confided. ‘She insists that the three of us go out to lunch. To the Adlon Hotel.’
Straightening up on the sofa, Renata threw her a questioning look. ‘Are you up to it? And do you think we should?’
Ursula was thoughtful, wondering whether or not it would be a wise thing to do. And then she, who of late had sometimes been fearful about going out, suddenly had no qualms at all. Her own sense of defiance and her pride made her say, ‘Of course I’m up to it. And why shouldn’t we go to lunch at the Adlon? We’re as entitled as anyone else, aren’t we?’
‘Indeed we are!’ Renata agreed. ‘Let’s do it!’
Ursula walked back to the sofa, stood looking down at the silver tray, shaking her head. ‘We’ve been so busy talking we never drank the coffee, and now it’s probably quite cold. Shall I ask Walter to brew some more?’
‘Not right now, thanks. Let’s wait until Arabella gets here. You know what she’s like about her morning tea. She’s bound to ask you for a pot, so we might as well share it with her.’ Renata rose, strolled over to the window, glanced out into the Tiergartenstrasse, then swung to face Ursula. ‘I heard on the radio earlier that the Nazis have already given last night a name. They’re calling it Kristallnacht… crystal night. Because of all th
e broken glass, I suppose.’ Renata shuddered, and grimaced in utter disgust. ‘How despicable the Nazis are! Imagine using a pretty and poetic name like that to describe a night of such unspeakable savagery!’ She shuddered again. ‘It’s beyond comprehension.’
‘Everything that’s happening is beyond comprehension,’ Ursula said.
ELEVEN
The Tiergarten was deserted.
As Sigmund walked down the path he realised it would not be anything but deserted in bitterly cold weather such as they were having in Berlin this December. And that was precisely the reason it had been chosen for the rendezvous. A park without people was a safe park.
He had no idea whom he was to meet.
Irina had slipped a note to him two nights ago, during drinks at the von Tiegals’ house, where he and Ursula were attending a small dinner party. Within seconds of pocketing it he had excused himself, hurried to the bathroom in order to read it, impatient to know what it said.
The note had been brief and to the point.
Tiergarten. Saturday. 11 a.m. Hofjageralleside. For identification your contact will say: The blue gentians are not in bloom today. Destroy this note.
After reading the note a second time, he had set fire to the bit of paper with his cigarette lighter, held it until it was almost burnt through, then dropped it into the toilet bowl and flushed it away. Returning to the living room, he had found Irina in conversation with Reinhard, and he had simply touched her elbow, as if by accident, to let her know he had read the note and destroyed it. He knew better than to discuss anything in front of others, even their closest and most trustworthy friends. A slip of the tongue might put others in grave danger.
Sigmund had asked Princess Irina Troubetzkoy for help the evening he and Ursula had attended the reception and dinner at the British Embassy, which had been the ill-fated night of the Nazi riots—Kristallnacht—as it turned out.
The Women in His Life Page 11