by Paul Grant
Ulrich washed and dressed. He wasn’t hungry, and anyway he had no time for breakfast. He had to get to work, and whilst he was there, he was determined to find out what he could about Heissner. Markus had warned him about being too obvious in his enquiries.
Ulrich grabbed his tool bag and headed for the door.
‘Uli!’ Eva shouted.
‘I’ll see you tonight. I have to get to work.’
She appeared from the kitchen, her face serious. ‘Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.’
‘Just leave him, Evie. He’ll talk when he’s ready,’ his mother called out.
‘I’ve just had things to do. I have to go, Eva.’
Eva looked at the floor. ‘Ursula came around last night.’
Ulrich stopped by the door. ‘She came here?’
‘She was upset. What’s going on, Uli?’
Ulrich felt a momentary flash of guilt. He knew he should have been there to see her, but what with everything that had happened, he’d conveniently pushed it aside.
‘I’ll go and see her tonight,’ he said, then rushed out of the door, leaving Eva open-mouthed.
***
Klaus approached the apartment.
He was still unsure if he was doing the right thing. From his few hours in Berlin, he could see it had changed, and he wasn’t only thinking about the physical appearance of the place. Life went on, the trams ran, ferrying people as they went about their business, but the city seemed soulless, devoid of atmosphere, like it was still in shock from a previous event. It added to his unease. Just what had happened here in his absence?
He didn’t have too long to think about it as he heard shouting on entering the tenement courtyard.
‘Uli!’
It was a girl’s voice, insistent and strong.
Klaus pushed through the threadbare sheets hanging out to dry.
The girl’s voice was closer now.
‘I’m talking to you, Uli. Don’t ignore me.’
As Klaus reached the entrance to the back stairs, a young man breezed past him in a hurry. The man’s blue eyes, his blond hair, his features registered something with Klaus. He turned, but the man carried on walking without looking back.
Klaus turned to his front and immediately walked into a girl. She bowled him right over, so he was in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
‘I’m so sorry… Here let me help you,’ she said.
She looked no more than thirteen, but evidently all power, at least enough to flatten Klaus. She was looking towards the courtyard, her eyes searching through the hanging vestments for the man she’d been calling after.
Without taking his eyes off her, Klaus managed to stand with the aid of the rail. Her skin, her mouth and nose brought memories flooding back. They reminded him of the features he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. She thrust the package towards him, before leaving with a fleeting apology. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Then she was gone in pursuit of the young man.
Klaus felt like he was locked in a trance, like he was watching a film, unable to affect the action.
‘Uli!’ she cried.
Apparently she had caught up with him. Klaus couldn’t see them directly through the washing, but he could hear her passion.
‘For God’s sake, will you listen to me?’
‘Leave me alone, sis. I said I’ll go and see her.’
‘It’s not only about Ursula; you’re up to something.’
Klaus found himself stepping back out of the building to get a view of them.
‘I know what I’m doing. Stop nagging, will you?’
‘You need to be nagged. Uli, these people are dangerous, and what they are doing is dangerous.’
His voice was harsher now. ‘It will be dangerous if you stand shouting in the middle of the courtyard for all to hear.’
Klaus caught a glimpse of them through the sheets. She seemed subdued now, apparently stung by his words. He could barely hear her.
‘We worry about you, Uli. That’s all.’ She looked more like a little sister now, all care and devotion, if a bit sulky in response to the rebuke.
It melted him. He touched his sister on the cheek.
‘I know, Evie, but you shouldn’t worry. I can look after myself.’
He smiled at her, then he was off about his business. Klaus saw her shoulders sink in a long, deflating sigh. The lump in Klaus’ throat was the size of a prizefighter’s fist.
It was to be expected; he’d just seen his children for the first time in more than ten years.
***
Klaus knew it was them. He grabbed at the wooden stair rail, weak at the gradual realisation. Thankfully, Eva had followed her brother, because at that time he couldn’t face it. He didn’t have the strength to reveal himself. He wasn’t surprised Ulrich hadn’t recognised him. He hadn’t known it was his son until he was past him. He felt frail suddenly, like all the years of malnourishment had finally caught up with him. He needed to pull himself together.
He took in some air, the smell of damp wood filling his nostrils. He’d arrived here without thinking how he’d handle anything, what he would say, how he would say it. He looked up for some salvation, some resolve. Maybe the German at Friedland had been right; at least, if somebody else had come here first to tell them he’d survived, somebody independent, trained, maybe it would have been easier on Maria and the children. And Klaus.
He’d been a soldier in survival mode, all his feelings suppressed for so long. Facing them now was like running into a huge emotional wave, threatening him, like he might never appear on the other side.
He breathed deeply over and over. He started to brush himself down. His backside was damp from the floor, but other than that he was unscathed. He looked up the staircase. His mind started to work again. He had to think logically, more clinically, like a soldier. With Ulrich and Eva out, it meant if Maria was in, she would possibly be alone. There was no better time to do this. He may never get a better opportunity.
The old memories came flooding back as he ventured up the stairwell, all the fun, the neighbours, the arguments. On the whole, they were happy memories. He hoped there were to be more. He took a deep breath then raised his hand to knock. He quickly let his hand fall before he made contact, suddenly losing the strength that had pushed him on up the stairs. He felt sick. Klaus even found himself in the crazy position of craving the certainty of the Gulag, of his surrogate family, the Doc, Hausmann, even Burzin.
Then the thought of his comrades who hadn’t made it back flashed across his mind. Meissner, Scharner, Wiebke, Koegel. He closed his eyes. At least he had the opportunity to do this, however it turned out.
The sound of the knock shocked him, as if it had been made by someone else. He could hear footsteps on the other side of the door.
The door opened.
‘Yes?’ At first her face was expectant. She looked at Klaus. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. It was his Maria, no doubt. She was a little older, slightly more drawn around the mouth, small lines on the skin next to her eyes, but still the same Maria. Her head tilted to one side slightly. There was something, a flicker, a light came on somewhere. Her eyes never moved from his.
Then it was there, that look, the look when one cannot believe, that look of incredulity. It spread over her face. She barely whispered, ‘Klaus?’
The prizefighter’s fist had returned to his throat, and the tears he’d narrowly avoided before now rolled unashamedly down his cheeks.
Maria’s hand went to her mouth. ‘My God!’
It was then she seemed to back away from him. He instinctively followed her. ‘No, Maria, it’s okay.’
Her hands clawed at the wall before he realised what was happening. Klaus managed to catch her before she hit the floor.
He was on his knees now cradling her, one arm supporting her back, the other around the back of her neck. He studied every pore of her face through his tear-filled eyes. He’d waited so lo
ng for this moment he was going to savour it. Here he was with his wife in his arms. He could see her beauty.
It took him a while to snap out of it, to consider how this might look to a neighbour if they passed by; the door was still wide open.
He shook her gently. ‘Maria.’ He even dared to touch her face, but she didn’t flicker. Klaus knew he had to get her inside, until she came round. He pulled the door, trying to manoeuvre her around it and close it behind them. This was no easy task, not only because Maria was a dead weight, but because Klaus’ own legs were weak, most of his own faculties rendered inept by the deep emotional shock.
With great effort he managed to close the door. He let his back rest against it in relief, Maria draped over his folded knees. He let out a deep sigh, trying to come to terms with the situation. He felt excitement, giddiness. It was hard to comprehend. Klaus remained there recovering from the effort. In those couple of minutes, Maria showed no sign of stirring.
Klaus knew he would have to get her into the living room. His mind started to consider what might happen if Ulrich or Eva returned home to find a strange man in their apartment and their mother out for the count. The thought made him move a bit quicker.
He forced himself up on to one knee. In the tight confines of the hallway, he lost his balance. To prevent Maria’s head from hitting the wall, he turned and took the impact on his shoulder, wincing in pain as he did. Slowly, and only with the aid of the wall, he straightened himself and moved steadily down the hallway to the door at the end. He opened it with a push of his raised foot. He headed straight for the well-worn couch, stumbling slightly before he reached it. He could only propel Maria forward onto the fabric, cushioning her but still falling on top of her as he landed.
Klaus stood up and straightened his suit. Maria started to moan slightly. She was coming round.
***
Maria’s eyes opened wide in shock.
Her chest heaved, then her breathing slowed and a beaming smile broke across her soft features. Klaus savoured the moment. It was this picture he had held in his mind during those lonely days in the Gulag. It was the picture that kept him alive and functioning when many others had given up.
‘It wasn’t a dream,’ she whispered.
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s really me, back from the dead.’
Maria laughed. ‘I knew they couldn’t get rid of Klaus Schultz.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘They had a good shot at it.’
Maria went to get up from her lying position, but Klaus stopped her. ‘Please stay there. I just want to look at you.’
He had waited so long for this moment, dreamt of it so many times, he didn’t want it to end. He also didn’t want to have to face the last ten years of his life or, indeed, what had happened since he’d been away.
She put her hand to his face. ‘We need to fatten up these cheeks a bit.’
That single moment of care and tenderness brought new tears to the corner of Klaus’ eyes. He was overcome. Nobody had touched him like that, showed him that sentiment, in such a long time.
‘It’s funny,’ he managed, wiping his eyes, ‘but for once, I don’t feel hungry.’
Maria rubbed the tears from his cheeks, then she looked into his eyes. ‘You don’t know how many times I pushed them to find out about you.’ She was shaking her head now. ‘The Nazis, the Russians. They said you didn’t exist, until the letter came…’
Klaus’ eyes were wide now. ‘Markus?’
‘Who?’
‘The man who brought you the letter.’
‘No, it was a Major from the Abwehr. I knew him from the war.’
Klaus felt his face redden, not in control of his emotions.
Maria didn’t fail to notice. ‘Not like that, Klaus.’ She sat up now holding his shoulders. ‘There has been nobody.’
Klaus tried to turn his head away, ashamed of his reaction. He noticed his own photograph on the sparse sideboard. He felt a shadow of that man.
‘In fact, I believe you met him,’ Maria said. ‘The night you took food for the Steins.’
He racked his brains. ‘Outside? He led me away, saved me from arrest.’
‘Yes, that’s what he told me.’
‘It’s hard to take everything in. Markus was in the camp with us. He got away. If this Major had my letter, it means Markus must have made it back.’
Maria shrugged. ‘They wouldn’t let me meet the man who brought it. It was three years ago, Klaus.’
He shook his head, trying to release the mist in his head. ‘We’ve got so much catching up to do.’
‘Why didn’t they tell me you’d been released? This is such a shock.’
‘I went to West Germany. I couldn’t stay with the Russian puppets,’ he said angrily, ‘although I’m not sure the others are any better.’
‘They’re all Germans, Klaus.’
‘I suppose so,’ he grunted.
Maria put her hand over his. They were sitting side by side now. The initial emotion was starting to drain from him. He felt himself trembling.
‘Are you cold?’ Maria asked.
He shook his head. ‘It just started since I came back. They said we had to expect things like this at the returnee camp.’
Maria’s face was full of concern. ‘Well, you have to be taken care of, that I can see. You need to get some rest.’
Klaus shook his head slowly. ‘Maria, you don’t understand.’
‘What don’t I understand?’
He barely whispered, ‘I can’t stay here.’
‘Nonsense. Where else are you going to stay?’
‘It would take too long to explain at the moment.’ He took a deep breath.
‘Try me.’ She was stroking his forehead, her eyes brimming with care. Klaus wanted to talk, but now he was here, back with Maria, the emotion was blocking it and the words stuck in his throat. Everything he had strived for, every waking, and sometimes sleeping, hour had been about getting home, yet he knew the risks if he stayed here in Lichtenberg.
He held her hand, gripping it tight, feeling the dread of going back to the Gulag, the fear of Dobrovsky on his tail.
‘I can’t stay in the Russian zone, Maria.’
***
Maria listened to Klaus’ story.
He told her what had happened in Stalingrad and the camps before they were arrested in Moscow. He told her about Dobrovsky, about Kolyma, Burzin and Markus’ escape. She listened to everything he had to say, holding his hand throughout, the empathy oozing from her. Klaus could see that determined love shining in her eyes.
She nodded firmly like she had made a decision, like she knew exactly what to do.
‘If what Burzin says is true, you cannot stay here for long.’ She pursed her lips, mind whirring. ‘We need to talk to Eva and Ulrich. They need to know you’re alive for starters.’ She laughed like it was a crazy thing. ‘Then,’ and she shrugged, ‘to tell them we have to move from here.’
Klaus was moved by her conviction. He wondered why he had ever doubted it would be any different. Maria was the same rock she had always been, yet he knew he still had to hear her story; the talk of the Major was only the start of it, if he knew Maria.
They heard a shout from the hallway. ‘It’s only me, Mum.’
Maria was on her feet, flustered now. ‘Eva!’
The girl whom Klaus had bumped into on the stairwell was standing at the entrance to the small lounge: tall, slim yet strong, beautiful, like her mother. She eyed him curiously.
‘Hello again,’ she said.
Maria looked confused for a moment. ‘You’ve already met?’
Klaus shook his head. ‘Briefly; a small accident.’
Maria scratched her head, then dropped her hand and sighed. ‘Eva, this…’ She put her hand to her forehead again, seemingly never being expected to actually say the words, ‘…is your father.’
Maria took her daughter’s hand. Klaus could see the same mouth and nose, the same pride, maybe defiance. The gi
rl took him in, looking him up and down, the cogs in her brain seemingly ticking. Klaus felt under enormous scrutiny for a split second.
Finally, she smiled and said, ‘I am sorry I knocked you over.’
The joke broke the silence. She sat down next to Klaus, her blue eyes wide, incredulous.
‘Where have you been?’ she asked. ‘I mean, they kept you for so long?’ Her words were slightly doubtful.
‘I knew it. I said it all along,’ Maria chipped in.
‘But they kept telling us there were no more prisoners,’ Eva said. ‘They were lying.’
Maria raised her eyebrows. ‘They probably didn’t know themselves. The Russians have their own way,’ she said ruefully.
Klaus looked at Maria, first in agreement, then he wondered; Roger’s words on the plane came back to him. He sighed, wondering if he was even ready for Maria’s experiences. As the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was utterly selfish.
He wondered if she knew what he was thinking, because she quickly changed the subject. ‘Eva, you have to take your father to Ulrich.’
Eva nodded, even though she looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Of course.’
‘I will go to the Magistrat to get some time off work,’ she said with assurance. ‘This will give us some time.’
Klaus nodded, but everything seemed to be going on around him, even above him.
Maria embraced her daughter. ‘You’re okay?’
Eva smiled, and looking across towards Klaus, she nodded. ‘I’m a bit shocked, but fine.’
Klaus stood, now eager to get to his son, and also to be with his daughter. She was a toddler when he’d last seen her. He felt pride about how she had grown, even though he hadn’t taken any part in her upbringing.
Maria took Klaus and pulled him close. ‘I have the address of your hotel. You must go there after you’ve seen Uli. Don’t take any risks.’
‘Hotel?’ Eva said quizzically.