The Women in His Life

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘I am,’ Willy admitted.

  Theodora gave him a penetrating look. ‘And then you can tell me what’s troubling you so much it brought you all this way to talk to me.’

  ***

  ‘It’s like this,’ Willy said, looking across at Theodora. ‘My father hasn’t been able to get entry visas for America, as you know. But he has been promised one for Palestine by a Jewish organisation in Berlin, which will also obtain an exit visa. He should be getting both in a week or two.’

  ‘And he wants you to use them, Willy, isn’t that so?’

  ‘Yes,’ Willy muttered, sounding as miserable as he looked.

  ‘Then you must.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Willy exclaimed. ‘Don’t you see, I can’t go without you, Teddy.’

  ‘You must, Willy dear. You have no alternative,’ Teddy said very gently, leaning forward, putting her hand on his arm affectionately.

  ‘I won’t leave you behind in Berlin,’ he protested, his voice suddenly shaking.

  He seemed close to tears, Teddy thought. But she was fully prepared for such a moment as this, fully prepared with all the right words—and lies, if necessary. In November, when Herr Westheim had asked her for her passport, and had explained that he was hoping to get his family and her out of Germany, he had sworn her to secrecy. ‘No one must know,’ he had said. The Nazis might stop the Westheims from leaving if they discovered their plans, because of his importance to the Ministry of Finance and the State, he had warned. She had understood everything, and had given her word to him.

  It was on this same Saturday afternoon that she had told the Westheims about her unofficial engagement to Willy, had confided that Willy hoped the two of them would be able to go to America eventually, along with his father and sister. The Westheims had immediately exchanged worried looks, and Frau Westheim had said, ‘Of course we can’t force you to leave with us, Teddy, nor would we. However, don’t forget that you are my charge. I promised your mother I would look after you, and it would distress me to leave you behind. Very honestly, I think you should get out when you can. Just as Willy should, if he has the opportunity, even if it means going without you. In any case, there’s no guarantee that Professor Herzog is going to succeed.’

  Herr Westheim had then interjected: ‘It’s highly unlikely that he will, Theodora. The United States is not going to admit any more European Jews. The quota is used up.’ On hearing this dismal news she had looked from Herr Westheim to Frau Westheim, and had exclaimed, ‘But I can’t just disappear! Willy would be worried.’ Ursula Westheim had taken her hand, had said, ‘Yes, you can, Teddy. And when we arrive at our destination, you can phone Willy to explain everything. He will be relieved to know you are safe. Trust me, he will.’

  Quite suddenly she had realised that what Frau Westheim said was true. Anyway, Willy had a far better chance of making it safely out of Germany alone, without her hampering him. Something else had instantly struck her that afternoon, and she had wondered out loud what she would say to Willy if he asked for her passport. ‘He won’t,’ Herr Westheim had assured her, ‘the Americans are not issuing any more entry visas. But should he do so, then you must simply say you have sent your passport in for renewal. Don’t say I have it, and remember, don’t mention our plans, whatever you do.’ For a second time she had promised not to reveal a single thing.

  In the end, of course, the Westheims had managed to convince her to abide by their wishes. After all, her mother had had great faith in them, and had entrusted her well-being to them until she was twenty-one, and she must respect that. They were older and cleverer than she, and they knew best.

  And as the weeks had slowly passed she had begun to acknowledge to herself that they had indeed been correct in what they had said to her. Chanukah had come and gone, and then Christmas, and finally New Year’s Eve. It was suddenly 1939 and Professor Herzog had still not heard a word from his friend in Frankfurt who had a friend who knew an American consular official. Inevitably, Willy had confessed to her one night that he had given up all hope of the American visas ever being issued. Several times she had been on the verge of confiding that her Aunt Ketti in London was trying to get a British entry visa for her, but she had always remained silent, always curiously inexplicably tongue-tied on this subject.

  Now here was Willy at the Schloss with his latest news.

  As she looked into his pale, stricken face her heart went out to him. He was concerned about leaving her behind, and yet there was no way she could alleviate his worry by revealing the truth. Certainly she could not tell Willy about Sigmund Westheim’s plans for them. Nothing on this earth would make her put the family in jeopardy. She trusted Willy Herzog, trusted him with her life. On the other hand, it was not up to her to put little Maxim and his parents at risk in any way whatsoever.

  And so she must convince Willy to take advantage of the visa his father had been offered and leave Germany, whatever lies she had to tell him to accomplish this end.

  Rising, she went and sat next to him on the sofa in front of the fire. She got hold of his hand and squeezed it, then brought it up to her face and rubbed it against her cheek in a gesture of tenderness and love.

  After a moment, she said, ‘I want you to go to Palestine, Willy. In fact, I insist that you go. Listen to me. Frau Westheim is planning to stay at the Schloss indefinitely. When you phoned yesterday, I said we’d be staying a few weeks because I didn’t want to upset you. But actually we won’t be coming back to Berlin for a very, very long time. The Westheims believe it’s safer here in the country. And it is. We’ll be fine, living with the von Tiegals. And once you get to Palestine you can try to get entry visas for your family. And for me. And as soon as you do, I’ll come and join you.’

  ‘It worries me to leave you behind, and—’

  ‘You’ll have a much better chance of getting those visas in Palestine than you would here,’ she cut in swiftly.

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Willy said, his expression doubtful.

  ‘Oh yes, you will. Honestly, Willy. Herr Westheim told me it’s easier to get a visa for a country when you’re actually in that country. You know, a visa for someone else. He understands these things. He’s a banker, don’t forget.’ Teddy paused, took a deep breath, ‘My Aunt Ketti in London is trying to get me an entry visa for England,’ she blurted out, telling him at last, knowing that she must now use this as a weapon of persuasion.

  Genuinely startled by this last announcement, Willy stared at Theodora. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your Aunt Ketti’s efforts?’

  Teddy bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Willy, I should have.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I was reluctant to tell you that I might leave Berlin before you, and also I don’t like discussing such things, in case they don’t happen. I’m a bit superstitious in that way. Aunt Ketti is hopeful though, very hopeful indeed.’ This last statement was not strictly true, but Theodora gave him the benefit of a huge smile, and warming to her subject, she went on, ‘I will give you Aunt Ketti’s address before you leave this afternoon, just in case. Listen, by the time you get to Tel Aviv or Jerusalem, or wherever you’re going, I could be sitting in Belsize Park Gardens with my aunt. Think about that, Willy. It should cheer you up.’ She sat back, beaming at him confidently, her face a picture of truth and sincerity.

  Willy studied her carefully. His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure your Aunt Ketti can get a British visa for you?’

  ‘Absolutely! She has all the right connections,’ Teddy lied adroitly. ‘So you see, you must go to Palestine, Willy dear. We’ll meet up when this mess is over… Herr Westheim says there’s going to be a war.’ When he did not respond, she exclaimed in a cheery voice, ‘Look, Willy, either you’ll come to London, or I’ll come to Palestine, and together we’ll go to America!’

  For the first time since he had arrived at the Schloss Willy smiled. ‘America! Oh Teddy, that’s where our future is. And it’s a wonderful dream to hold onto… something to look forward to, and keep us both goin
g while we’re apart.’ He put his arm around her and drew her close to him. ‘You will write to me, won’t you?’ he asked anxiously, holding her even tighter.

  ‘Every week,’ Theodora promised, filling with relief that she had managed to persuade him to go to Palestine without her. And she was happy in the knowledge that once he was there Willy Herzog would be safe.

  FIFTEEN

  Maxim sat on the carriage seat gazing up at his father.

  ‘Why aren’t you coming with us, Papa?’ he asked tremulously. Until this moment of departure he had not known that Sigmund was staying behind in Berlin, and his young face was charged with disappointment and sudden worry flickered in his brown eyes.

  ‘Because they need me at the bank next week, Maxim. But as soon as I finish my work I shall come to Paris,’ Sigmund explained, wanting so much to reassure the child.

  ‘When, Papa?’

  ‘In about two weeks, and when I arrive we shall go away immediately for our seaside holiday.’

  ‘Where, Papa?’

  ‘To the south of France… to Monte Carlo or Cannes. Or perhaps we’ll go to San Remo in Italy, possibly even Corsica. But I’m certainly going to choose a warmer climate so that Mutti can rest, and you and I will have a fine time together.’

  A smile touched the boy’s mouth, but it was fleeting, and he said in a plaintive voice, ‘Please come soon, Papa. Please.’

  ‘I will, I promise,’ Sigmund said. ‘Now, let me take off your overcoat, it’s rather warm in the compartment.’ He lifted Maxim down, removed his coat, and handed it to Teddy, who stowed it away on top of their three suitcases in the luggage rack above.

  Sigmund bent forward and picked Maxim up in his arms, held him tightly, pressing the boy’s head into his shoulder, loving him so much. He drew back after a moment, smiled into his face as he put him down on the seat, and then he reached out and straightened his little blue tie, smoothed the same loving hand over his fair head.

  Still smiling at him, Sigi said, ‘I want you to be a good boy, Maxim, and you must take care of Mutti for me, and Teddy too, until I can get there.’

  Maxim nodded, looking very solemn. ‘Yes, I will, Papa, but don’t be long, will you?’

  ‘No, I won’t.’ Sigmund leaned closer and kissed Maxim, who put his arms around his father’s neck and clung to him. He had never been separated from him for longer than a day or two, and knowing his father was staying in Berlin now alarmed and frightened him, even though Teddy and his mother were with him on the train.

  Sigmund hugged his son once more, then released him and turned away, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly. His eyes were suddenly wet and it took him a moment to compose himself. Once he had done so, he swung to Teddy, offered her his hand. She clasped it tightly, and then impulsively Sigmund pulled her to her feet and enveloped her in a warm, avuncular hug.

  ‘Look after them for me, Teddy, and take care of yourself,’ he said quietly, when they drew apart.

  ‘I will, Herr Westheim, and please try not to worry.’

  Sigmund nodded, and glanced down at his little son whose eyes were fastened on him so intently. ‘You’ll enjoy the train journey, Maxim. It’ll be like an adventure for you, and before you know it, you’ll be in Paris… on holiday. Mutti and Teddy will take you to see the Eiffel Tower and all the other sights.’

  ‘Yes… Papa, will Gangan come with you?’

  ‘She will indeed.’

  A joyful smile suddenly lit up Maxim’s face. It made him happy to know that his grandmother was coming on holiday with them. Soon everyone he loved in the whole wide world would be with him. He settled against the seat and picked up the small wooden horse his Papa had given him yesterday. It was exactly like the pony he was going to buy for him. He had told him so. ‘And you’ll have it very soon, I promise,’ his Papa had added. He could hardly wait. It would be lovely to have the pony. He had wanted it for so long. In the summer he would ride it in the garden in Wannsee.

  Sigmund saw that Maxim was occupied with the little carved horse, and he left the carriage rapidly, wishing to curtail these prolonged goodbyes which were painful to him and everyone else. His heart was very full, and he was aware that Ursula was on the verge of tears. She followed him out of the carriage and onto the platform, where they stood together talking.

  Maxim pressed his nose to the window, watching his parents. But he could not hear what they were saying, and so he went back to examining the wooden horse, banging his heels against the bottom of the carriage seat until Teddy told him, rather sternly, to stop at once. He did.

  ***

  Despite the bustle and din on the crowded platform, Ursula spoke very quietly, not wanting to be overheard. She took Sigmund’s hand in hers. ‘I wish I hadn’t agreed to this. I hate to leave you behind. I think we should all go together. Please, Sigi, let me take Maxim and Teddy off the train now, whilst there’s still time.’

  ‘No, absolutely not,’ he replied in a low but emphatic voice. ‘I told you, I don’t want you to wait until the end of the month. I think it’s better this way, that we go out in twos and threes, less noticeable, for one thing. In ten days or so Hedy, Sigrid and Thomas will be joining you in Paris, and then I will follow with Mother.’

  ‘Yes, Sigi, I know. But I loathe leaving like this, I really do. I’m worried about you. Apprehensive. Anything could happen,’ she whispered.

  ‘Nothing is going to happen. I want you and Maxim out of Berlin. I’ll breathe a little easier knowing that you and the child are safe.’

  The train started to hoot loudly, emitting clouds of steam and smoke which enveloped them, and a guard was hurrying along the platform holding his red flag and blowing his whistle. The departure of the Berlin-Paris train was imminent and last-minute passengers pushed past them, intent on boarding at once.

  Sigmund and Ursula were jostled closer together and he took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘I love you, Ursula.’

  ‘I love you, Sigi, with all my heart.’

  He heard the tremor of emotion in her voice and he put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, gazing into her smoky-blue eyes. ‘Come now, no tears, my love. I’ll soon be with you and Maxim. You and he are my life, and nothing is going to separate us. Not for very long, at least.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, striving for control, clutching him to her fiercely. All of their lives they had loved each other, all of their lives they had been together, had hardly ever been apart, except for their school years. Leaving him like this made her feel as if part of her body was being wrenched away from her.

  ‘You’d better board,’ Sigi said, and added sotto voce, ‘And be careful on the train. Wary, darling. Keep your eyes and ears open, and say very little to anyone. Just be polite, that’s all that’s necessary. No complicated conversations.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured.

  ‘It looks as if the train’s thick with SS officers, army personnel and Gestapo, but there’s nothing very unusual about that, so don’t worry. Some of them are probably going on leave, others following military orders.’

  She nodded.

  Sigi went on quickly, in the same undertone, ‘And remember, there will be police at the border, as well as immigration and customs officials. And Gestapo agents. But that is quite normal these days. Routine. As long as you remain your usual calm self everything will be all right.’

  ‘Yes, Sigi, I understand.’ Ursula’s throat was tight and she was incapable of saying anything more. She pivoted swiftly and walked to the train.

  Sigmund followed her, took hold of her arm, helped her up the steps. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘go to the carriage.’ He banged the door shut, but immediately she pushed down the window and reached her hand out to him. He grasped it in his.

  Slowly the wheels began to turn, grinding and screeching against the iron tracks, moving at a snail’s pace at first. He walked along the platform, still gripping her hand, staring up into that face he had known and loved since he had been a boy. The lovely face w
as pale now, but the valedictory smile she gave him was brave and he smiled back, but then her smile slipped and her face crumpled and the tears she had been holding back trickled down her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t, darling, don’t,’ he said, squeezing her hand encouragingly, reassuringly, but when the train picked up speed he had to let go of her fingers.

  He raised his arm in a farewell salute as the train slid out of the station, and he stood quite motionless on the platform, staring after it until it had completely disappeared from sight.

  Only then did he finally turn away and leave the Schlesischer Bahnhof, making for the Westheim bank in the Gendarmenmarkt.

  SIXTEEN

  Ursula hung out of the window for as long as she could see Sigmund. But when the train rounded a bend and he was lost from view, she closed it and turned away.

  She hurried along the corridor until she found a toilet. She went in, locked the door and leaned against it, pressing her handkerchief to her streaming eyes. But within seconds she had managed to calm herself, knowing that Maxim and Teddy would be wondering where she was, and that Teddy in particular would be worrying about her.

  When she looked in the mirror above the washbasin she saw that her face was streaked with tears, her nose shiny. Rummaging around in her handbag she found her compact, took it out, powdered herself, added a touch of rouge and outlined her mouth with pink lipstick. Next, she placed her fedora-style hat in the washbasin along with her bag, ran a comb through her short blonde hair, replaced the hat, and stood back to review her own image.

  She nodded to herself, perfectly satisfied that she looked quietly elegant, dignified and dull, which was exactly what she and Sigi had intended.

  The most important thing on the journey to France was not to draw attention to herself. This was the reason she had chosen the tailored, heather-coloured tweed suit with a plain white silk blouse, the dark-grey fedora and a heather-tweed topcoat. Her jewellery was austere: her gold wedding band, a utilitarian watch, and simple pearl studs on her ears were the only things she wore.