Daughter of Riches

by Janet Tanner

  Dieter shook his head slowly, looking at her. ‘Oh Sophia, it is so good to see you again, even under such circumstances. You don’t know.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I do.’ She let go of the cup, laying her hand, palm uppermost, on the scrubbed wood table top, and he covered it with his own. She looked down at his wrist etched with tiny fair hairs and felt the love welling up in her as if time had slipped backwards, she was fourteen years old again and the intervening years had never been.

  The sound of the door opening broke the spell and they jumped apart like guilty children. It was Catherine; the expression on her face told them that they had not moved fast enough – she had seen them.

  ‘Sophia! How could you?’ she flared.

  Dieter leaped to his feet, clicking his heels. ‘Don’t be offended, fraulein, please!’

  ‘He’s a German!’ she rushed on, ignoring him. ‘They took our parents, Sophia! They turned us out of our home! I hate them – and so should you. You can’t sit there with him drinking tea and holding hands. It’s disgusting!’

  ‘Catherine! It’s Dieter you are talking about!’

  ‘Yes, I know. Dieter. The German. The Nazi pig. Look at him, Sophia – look!’

  ‘Don’t be so rude, Catherine!’ Sophia remonstrated, horrified at her sister’s outburst.

  ‘Why not? I feel like being rude. In fact I feel like being a good deal worse than that. I feel like killing him!’

  ‘I am sorry if I have upset you, Catherine,’ Dieter said quietly. ‘This I never meant to do. And Sophia, if I have put you in a bad position then I am sorry for that also. I will go now.’ He crossed to the door, nodded gravely to them and went out.

  Sophia glared at Catherine and ran out after him. Dusk had fallen swiftly as it does in September and the soft air was filled with the scents of the garden, a sweet hangover from the warmth of the day. Clouds of midges moved under the trees, sign of another fine day to come tomorrow, and somewhere out in the countryside the first owl hooted mournfully.

  ‘Don’t go, Dieter, please!’ she called.

  He stopped, looking back at her. ‘I think it is best. You don’t want me here. I should not have come.’

  ‘Catherine shouldn’t have said the things she did. I’m sorry …’

  ‘No, no, I understand. Truly. And Catherine, she would not be the only one to condemn if I were to visit you again. I am German, as she said, and Germans are hated here, perhaps with good reason.’

  ‘Dieter … please!’ Sophia, proud, strong Sophia, who never begged and never let anyone see her cry, suddenly found she was doing both. Her eyes were misty with tears, the words sprang from her lips before she could stop them. ‘I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. I really don’t. Only please, please don’t go away again!’

  There was a tiny silence. Across the valley the owl hooted again, a low and haunting moan lingering in the sweet air. It sounded to Sophia like an echo of her own heartfelt plea.

  Dieter touched her hand again, his fingers clasping hers briefly, and he pulled her towards him, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

  ‘I do have to go now, liebchen. But I will come back tomorrow – if you are sure …’

  Her heart rose and soared. ‘Oh yes, I’m sure!’

  ‘Very well.’ His fingers squeezed hers briefly again and then he was gone, a grey shadow disappearing into the falling darkness.

  Gently Sophia touched the spot on her forehead where his lips had been then she went back into the house. For the first time in years she felt truly happy.

  Catherine made sure she was out the following night when Dieter came. She was furious, unable to understand in the smallest degree how her sister could fraternise with a German and determined not to be a part of it.

  ‘Wallace has some gramophone records he wants me to hear. I shall be at his house all the evening.’

  ‘You’ll have to come home before curfew.’

  ‘Only if he won’t be here any more. If he is going to be I’ll ask if I can stay the night at Sylvie’s. Her mother won’t mind.’

  ‘And I suppose you’ll tell them all the reason why you don’t want to come home just like you told them about our wireless,’ Sophia snapped, stung.

  ‘I didn’t! You know I only told Sylvie!’

  ‘So you say. But if that is the case then it must have been Sylvie who informed on us.’

  ‘She wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘You heard what Dieter said. Somebody did.’

  ‘Perhaps it was Bernard. He knew about it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous! Bernard would never …’

  ‘What,’ Catherine asked, ‘is Bernard going to say when he finds out you’re seeing a German? He has been so good to us and he is going to be so hurt.’

  ‘Oh stop it, stop it!’ Sophia cried, pressing her hands to her ears. ‘Doesn’t what I want matter at all? This isn’t someone I’ve just met. I’ve been in love with him since I was younger than you. I have to see him, don’t you see?’

  ‘No. I don’t,’ Catherine said flatly. ‘And neither will anyone else.’

  ‘Don’t tell them, please …’

  ‘Why should you worry if you’re not ashamed of what you’re doing?’

  ‘Because this is very special to me and I don’t want it all spoiled.’

  ‘Well you need not worry,’ Catherine said haughtily. ‘I shan’t tell anyone because I certainly am ashamed.’

  Sophia was a little shaken. She had been sure Catherine would come around to understanding her point of view and her stubborn disapproval was upsetting, especially since she was effectively all the family Sophia had now. But there was something in what she had said, Sophia had to admit. People would certainly blame her if they knew she was seeing a German, and Bernard would be dreadfully upset. Sophia thought that if she was discreet she might be able to keep her secret from the world at large – the cottage was fairly isolated and the nights were now drawing in so that it was dark soon after they had finished tea – but she would find it very difficult to keep it from Bernard. Though she saw him only once or twice a week he sometimes called at the cottage unannounced so there was always the possibility he might come when Dieter was there.

  He would have to be told, Sophia decided – all other considerations aside she hated the thought of deceiving him – though exactly what she would tell him she was not sure. And in any case as yet there was nothing to tell. Dieter was coming back to see her tonight. That might be the end of it.

  A nerve jumped in Sophia’s throat. It might be the end. Perhaps that would be best all round. But Sophia knew that in spite of everything she desperately wanted it to be the beginning.

  They were magic days, stolen out of time. Around them conditions deteriorated as food supplies, already severely depleted, threatened to run out altogether, and the war entered its last bloody phase with the certainty of defeat giving a bitter edge to recriminations by the occupying forces. But Sophia and Dieter scarcely noticed any more. They were too engrossed in one another, too busy recapturing some of the enchantment of their lost youth.

  Their meetings were brief and discreet. Sometimes Dieter could not get away and Sophia would wait at the window in vain. When they were together there was never enough time for all they wanted to say to one another and certainly never enough time for love. But at least there was privacy in those snatched hours for Catherine was still firm in her determination to avoid any contact with Dieter. When she could she went out, when she could not she shut herself upstairs in her bedroom and stayed there until he had gone.

  They became lovers almost at once and it was the most natural thing in the world. It had been the first kiss that was awkward, with Dieter not yet certain of this new, adult Sophia, and she suddenly painfully aware of the German uniform. After that everything fell into place with an ease and speed that might have appeared unseemly if it had not been so totally inevitable and right. Sophia, who, if she had stopped to think about it, might have felt that her b
razen behaviour was something to be ashamed of, simply gloried in every touch, every special sensual moment. There was so much time to be made up – and so little present or future to do it in!

  But it was not all love making. Sometimes they talked, sitting holding hands and leaning towards one another as they explored each other’s minds and beliefs, dissected the past and tried to find some hope for the future. But the subject of Nazism was left firmly alone. It was the one area where they knew they would not agree, for though he hated things that had been done in its name, Dieter still clung to the basic tenets that had first stirred him when he had been a member of the Hitler Youth Movement. It was too much, Sophia realised, to expect him to abandon them completely when his whole existence and the very, lives of so many of his friends had been sacrificed at their altar. Later, perhaps, when it was all over he would allow himself to begin to believe that he – and they – had been wrong. But for now the time she and Dieter had together was too precious to be spoiled by arguments or the exposure of fundamental differences of opinion.

  Sometimes they talked of the sheer chance that had brought them together again – and of the incredible stroke of good luck that had decreed it had been Dieter who had found the cat’s whisker under the floorboards.

  ‘Didn’t you know how dangerous it was to have a wireless?’ he asked her sternly.

  ‘Don’t lecture me, Dieter. I haven’t got it now.’

  ‘I should hope not! Don’t you know that if it had been anyone but me who found it you would be in gaol by now – or on the way to Germany even, perhaps?’

  ‘Yes. I know. But it should have been safe enough. It would have been safe enough if someone hadn’t informed on us. Who was it? I’d still like to know.’

  ‘What good would that do?’

  ‘It would be nice to know who your enemies are. No, it’s all right, Dieter, I’m not hiding anything now, honestly, but I would just like to know.’

  ‘Very well. The people who informed on you were named Pinel.’

  ‘Pinel? I don’t know anyone of that name … no, wait a minute, Pinel! There is a girl at Catherine’s school named Jeanne Pinel. She and Catherine had a fight over a boy. You don’t think she …’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dieter said, pulling her into his arms. ‘Let it go, liebchen, just let it go. It’s all over now and you don’t want to make more trouble.’

  His fingers were in her hair, his mouth at her throat, and Sophia ‘let it go’ as he asked. But when Dieter had gone and Catherine made her appearance again, sulky and resentful, Sophia told her what Dieter had said.

  ‘You see how dangerous it is to talk about things?’ she finished. ‘You said you hadn’t told anyone but Sylvie but somehow it got passed from mouth to mouth and Jeanne Pinel was able to use what she knew to get her own back on you, Catherine. So let that be a lesson to you!’

  Catherine looked at Sophia with utter disdain.

  ‘I don’t need you to tell me what to do,’ she said heatedly: ‘ I don’t take notice of collaborators!’

  The colour rose in Sophia’s cheeks and a sharp retort hovered on her lips. But she bit it back. In a way she supposed Catherine had a point. All Sophia could hope was that one day Catherine would come to understand – and forgive.

  The following evening Sophia was alone in the cottage trying to alter one of Lola’s dresses into a skirt for Catherine when there was a knock on the door. She looked up from her sewing, surprised. Dieter had said he had some kind of extra duty to perform and would probably be late this evening – if he could come at all.

  Sophia tucked her needle safely into the material and laid it down on the table hoping desperately it wasn’t Bernard at the door. She still hadn’t told him about Dieter and she knew it was wrong but somehow she just had not been able to bring herself to do it. Each time she tried the words stuck in her throat and refused to come and she had made do with vague excuses to put him off coming to call on her. She told herself that her untruthfulness was because she hated the thought of hurting him; deep down she knew it was more than that – she couldn’t bear him to think badly of her, couldn’t bear to see the same look in his eyes that she saw in Catherine’s. Now as she got up to answer the door she thought anxiously that if it was Bernard she would have to get rid of him in a hurry or he might still be here when Dieter arrived – and that would provoke a very awkward situation!

  She drew the bolt, already trying to work out what she would say. But it wasn’t Bernard on the doorstep. It was a German officer whom she had never seen before.

  As always the sight of a German uniform made her stomach contract. In that moment two words flashed through her brain: What now?

  The German, as if reading her thought, smiled slowly and leaned a hand on the doorpost just level with her head. It was casually done, and obviously intended to put her at her ease, but the gesture grated on Sophia.

  ‘Yes?’ she said shortly. ‘ Did you want something?’

  ‘Oh dear! That’s not a very friendly greeting!’ His smile did not waver. ‘ I was hoping to get a warmer welcome here.’

  Sophia frowned. ‘ I don’t know what you mean by that.’

  ‘Don’t you? Oh come now, I’m sure you do! Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

  Sophia hesitated. It wasn’t wise to cross a German officer and refuse him entry to the house. Somehow she didn’t think this one was here on official business but all the same it would be very easy for him to extract revenge if he felt he had been slighted. And she could hardly slam the door because his fingers were in the way – and with squashed fingers he almost certainly would cause trouble for her!

  ‘Why should I ask you in?’ she hedged. ‘I don’t know why you are here.’

  His smile broadened but it was not a nice smile she thought. Above that grotesquely curving mouth his cheek muscles appeared not to move and there was a fixed glassiness about his eyes.

  ‘Oh I am sorry, fraulein, I did not explain. I have come with a message from Dieter.’

  ‘From Dieter!’ She was startled. Dieter had told her he had kept their meetings secret from his fellow officers. ‘There’s nothing wrong is there?’

  ‘Don’t worry, fraulein. Let me in and I will tell you everything.’

  She moved slightly to one side. He slipped past her with a swift, almost feline movement and stood looking around the kitchen. ‘This is a nice place you have here.’ His eyes, like chips of blue glass, came to rest on her. ‘And you, too, are very nice, fraulein, very pretty!’

  ‘Just tell me why you are here,’ she said shortly. ‘Dieter is all right, is he?’

  The sensuous lips smirked. ‘Oh yes. I should say Dieter is very much all right. He has good taste, I’ll say that for him.’

  Sophia tossed her head. The compliments were making her even more uncomfortable.

  ‘You have a message from him you say. What is it?’

  The German was prowling round the room, picking up a photograph here, an ornament there, inspecting everything with that glassy blue stare. Then he threw himself down in the easy chair by the fire, stretching out his jack-booted legs and folding his arms behind his head.

  ‘A message. Did I say that?’

  ‘Yes, you did.’

  ‘Hmm. Well, that is not strictly true.’

  Sophia was beginning to be really alarmed. It wasn’t just that he was a German, it was the way he was looking at her, his tongue flicking over the full lips, and the arrogance of his pose. Sophia began to wish she had slammed the door on his fingers and risked the consequences.

  ‘If you haven’t got a message for me from Dieter what are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  He slid down a little further in the chair, his tongue flicking again.

  ‘Why should Dieter have all the fun?’

  Sophia had begun to tremble. ‘ I think you had better leave.’

  ‘Leave?’ He laughed shortly. ‘ But I have only just arrived, fraulein! Surely you are going to give me a better welcome tha
n this? I can’t believe Dieter comes all this way for so little.’

  ‘How do you know what Dieter comes here for?’ she flashed. ‘In fact, how do you know he comes here at all?’

  ‘Because my dear fraulein we followed him. Several of us have thought it very strange that Dieter no longer seems to want our company. So we decided to find out what was claiming his attention. We followed him, and very amusing it was too. The curtains were not quite pulled – ah, but you should be more careful!’ He wagged a finger, amused to see the scarlet flush explode in her cheeks. ‘You were too eager, you and Dieter. You did not stop to make sure you could not be seen. So, does that answer your other question – as to how I know why Dieter comes here?’

  ‘You’re no better than a Peeping Tom!’ she flared, though she was now trembling violently with outrage as well as fear.

  ‘Perhaps. And perhaps, for some, it is enough to look. Not though for me. For me, when I have looked, then afterwards I like to … hmm … you do know, don’t you, what I mean, fraulein?’

  ‘Will you please go!’ Sophia yelled at him. ‘Dieter …’

  ‘Dieter is delayed. He has extra duties to perform. Let’s not worry about Dieter …’ His hand shot out, imprisoning her wrist.

  ‘You are not being very cooperative, fraulein. I can see a little persuasion is called for.’

  ‘Let me go!’

  ‘Not yet, fraulein, not yet. Don’t you know how excited you can get a man when you look at him like that?’ His free hand was fumbling with his trousers, then he reached out strongly pulling her down into the chair on top of him. For a moment, taken completely by surprise, Sophia found herself lying there on top of him, felt his hands rucking up her skirt and his hot breath on her neck. Then she began to struggle, trying to free herself, beating at him with her hands. His breath was coming harder, he laughed deep in his throat. ‘Wild-cat!’ he said in German. He swung himself out of the chair, taking her with him, so that they both fell on to the floor and his strength and the weight of his body made her helpless. One arm was twisted behind her back, wrenching painfully at her shoulder, the other spreadeagled helplessly. As he raised himself to finish undoing his trousers she got the one hand free and clawed at his face; instantly the palm of his hand smashed into her chin and her head cracked back on to the floor.