It Was That Night

by Rikke Barfod

  We try to persuade Jacov to come with us to his old house. He will not come, no matter what we say. We see Ursula once more under her apple tree. She waves at us. I want to go into the garden and tell her that Jacov has been found, but the woman in the house is glaring at us through the window. Isaac says it is better not to go in. Apparently, he has also been to a lot of offices trying to find out how Jacov can get the house back – or at least get paid compensation.

  Jacov sneers when he hears: “I will never live in that house again. Don’t you understand?”

  “No but maybe you can be compensated,” Isaac says.

  Jacov sniffs, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  I am utterly bored. I can’t do much – except go for walks. I read a bit more in the book Kirsten gave me. It is not cheerful reading. I miss Ellen so much. I have nobody to talk to. Mum talks with Jacov a lot, and with Doctor Heinz. Isaac is busy going to all those offices.

  Next evening, I persuade Mum to go with me again to the house – to see whether Ursula is there.

  The house is dark, so we walk into the garden. Ursula sits under her tree. She looks up when we come.

  “Ursula, why can’t you come with us to Doctor Heinz?”

  “Why should I?”

  Mum interrupts, “Ursula we have found your … our Pappi.”

  Ursula jumps up and looks around. “Where is he?”

  “He is with Doctor Heinz.”

  “But why didn’t he come with you?”

  Mum sighs, holds out her hands, as if she is trying to let the words be as gentle as possible.

  “He says he will never come to this house.”

  Ursula looks confused, bites her lip and says, “But I am here. Doesn’t he want to see me?”

  “He can’t wait to see you. Won’t you please come with us.”

  “I cannot.” Ursula sits down again. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, and bursts out crying.

  Mum too sits down and holds her. “I can’t explain,” she says. “He has been through hell in the concentration camp. And afterwards. He wants nothing more than to see you again; but last time he was in this house it was Kristallnacht. He can never forget what people did to you.”

  Ursula keeps sobbing: “What has that got to do with anything? I want to see him.”

  “But Ursula, why can’t you just go with us now?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. But I can’t.”

  “But you have been in Doctor Heinz’s house before.”

  “I know. But I can’t. I don’t know why,” she cries.

  A car stops in front of the house. I hold my breath. Fortunately, the people getting out of the car walk into another house.

  “We’d better go,” I say.

  Mum shakes her head. She keeps on holding Ursula tight until Ursula stops crying.

  “Can’t you ask Pappi to come here?”

  Mum nods. “I’ll try,” she says.

  Mum has a long talk with Jacov when we get back to Doctor Heinz’s.

  “Pappi, she doesn’t understand why you won’t see her.”

  “Doesn’t she see I can never go back to that house?” he shouts.

  Mum is getting angry. Her voice becomes this thin compressed sound.

  “No, she actually doesn’t. All she sees is that you won’t come and see her where she is.”

  “But …”

  “Nobody’s in the house now. You could come.”

  “Never.” Jacov’s mouth forms itself into a thin line. I stare fascinated at him. I’ve seen that expression before.

  “You’re just so stupid,” I hear the words escape from my mouth, without me intending them to.

  Jacov glares at me. So does Mum. I shout:

  “Right now, Ursula is sitting under her tree sobbing her heart out, because you don’t want to see her, where she is.”

  Jacov stares at nothing for a long time. Then he gets up with much squeaking and creaking.

  “Wir gehen,” he says. Mum and Isaac walk with him to the house.

  They are back almost before they start.

  “She wasn’t there,” Mum says.

  Jacov collapses into a chair. “Ach, kleine Ursula,” he sighs. “Now she thinks I don’t want to see her.” He retires into a morose silence.

  We go to the house the next day but the woman is back, looking out the window. Ursula can’t be seen. When we get back to Doctor Heinz, I ask:

  “What should we do now?”

  “I don’t know,” Mum says.

  “Aren’t we going home soon? Ursula might be there.”

  Mum turns to Jacov:

  “Pappi do you want to come with us to Denmark?”

  Jacov shakes his head. “No, I live here now. You can come and visit me another time.”

  “That’s not fair,” I shout. “It’s too much. We came all this way. We saw Ursula, but you didn’t. Don’t you want to see her – or what? And I want to go home to my friends and my school.”

  “Of course I want to see Ursula, if I can.”

  I stamp my foot. “Well then, come with us to Denmark. She might be there.”

  Jacov sighs, “Aber, what am I to do in Denmark?”

  “You might as well be there as here. You have more chance of seeing her in Denmark,” I screech and storm out of the room.

  Mum runs after me. “Claire, he’s been through so much. It is not easy for him.”

  “What about me? It’s also difficult for me. I have a life too, don’t I?”

  Jacov comes tottering out. “She has a temper, the little one. So did Ursula.” He sighs his usual sigh when we talk about Ursula. “But well, maybe… You want to go home. Yes, I will come just for a little while. And maybe I will see my Ursula, even though she isn’t there really.”

  “Yahoo,” I grin, dancing around Jacov like I was Ellen. “Let’s get going.”

  Doctor Heinz gets busy, calls up a lot of offices, speaks in rapid German, goes out with Jacov, and two days later, Jacov has a temporary passport. Isaac is still visiting those offices, and I am still bored stiff. Mum sits with Jacov most of the time.

  Doctor Heinz drives us to Frankfurt where we catch an early morning train so we can arrive around eight pm in Elsinore. Before we leave, Doctor Heinz hands me a box.

  “These are things I saved from Jacov’s house. Most of them belonged to Ursula. There are also some photo albums. Maybe you can show them to Ursula, even though I don’t know if she can see them. But you tell me she can use her eyes – however that is possible.”

  Chapter 35

  Claire

  Germany

  Sunday, 1. May 1983

  People in the train look askance at Jacov. I am mortified when I hear them sniggering and whispering as Jacov suddenly bursts into tears on seeing landmarks he knows.

  “Ach, jah. They made us walk here.”

  I do understand it must be difficult for him, but I am so embarrassed. I don’t know where to look. In the end, I pretend it has nothing to do with me and look out of the window. It is rather pretty outside with mountains and everything flowering. In the distance you can see the border between East and West Germany. It looks ugly and bare, like the land has been shaved with a giant razor.

  Isaac is good at distracting Jacov and talks to him about things that interest them both; like restoring old furniture. Mum plays with her bracelet. I bet she also thinks about how it will be when we get home. And what about Dad?

  At a station an elderly man enters the compartment. Jacov looks at him. Stiffens. Sits staring and staring at the man. He begins muttering. He clenches his fists and shouts and swears. Spit flies out of his mouth as he shakes his stick towards the man. The man looks completely dumbfounded.

  Mum tries to stop Jacov, but it is Isaac who asks the man to leave before the commotion attracts too many people. The man looks searchingly at Jacov. Then leaves. Isaac heaves Jacov back to his seat. Mum starts apologizing to the other two passengers, but Jacov shouts again:

  “Ap
ologize to those swine? Have you forgotten what they did to me and Ursula?”

  Oh, my God, how will he behave in Denmark? And what will they think at school? More endless teasing!

  Finally, Jacov calms down. He sits muttering to himself, staring out of the window most of the time. Mum has bought him some new clothes. He actually looks quite respectable. He speaks in German to me. I find it hard to understand. We’ve only had German for half a year in school. But slowly it begins to make sense. The words are so similar to Danish. It’s only that super-horrid grammar. But I can see that my German will benefit considerably having him around. In the end he falls asleep snoring, his mouth falls open.

  I draw pictures at the window and ask: “Mum, is Jacov going to stay with us?”

  “Of course, if he wants to,” she says with a smile.

  I let that hang for a bit.

  “Mum, what about Dad? What do you think he will say?”

  Mum rubs the side of her nose, “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  My stomach ties itself into knots when she says that. I wanted so much for her to say: “Everything is going to be fine.”

  On the ferry Jacov stands at the railing the whole time, staring towards Denmark.

  “Ach Jah,” he says. “40 years too late. I could have been with you, my Sarah.”

  Mum bursts out crying. As if there wasn’t enough salty water already!

  When we arrive in Copenhagen, the train to Elsinore has just left.

  “I can’t wait a whole hour for the next train. I’m far too excited. Can’t we take a taxi?” I jump around with anticipation. My feet refuse to stand still.

  “It’s going to be expensive,” Mum says. “But why not?”

  Isaac asks, “Should I come with you?”

  “Natürlich,” Jacov says.

  Dad is sitting in the kitchen when we arrive. The kitchen smells of burnt sausages. I throw myself in his arms before rushing upstairs.

  I come back down. “She’s not there,” I say.

  Jacov’s face crimps with disappointment.

  “Maybe she’s at the school,” Mum suggests and puts her coat back on.

  “Mogens, I’m truly sorry. It’s a bit confusing right now. But please meet my father, Jacov.”

  “So, it’s true then,” Dad says. “I wasn’t quite sure.” He gets up and greets Jacov warmly enough. “I’m so glad they found you.” He even shakes hands with Isaac. Then sits down and continues reading his magazine.

  “Mogens, we have to rush. We will talk later, but we must go to the school straight away,” Mum says.

  Dad does this thing with his eyebrows where he almost makes them disappear into his hair. He doesn’t say anything – just nods.

  Rush, we don’t. Jacov doesn’t walk that fast.

  When we get to the classroom Ursula is not in the cupboard.

  We look at each other. What now?

  Jacov crumples into a heap on a chair.

  Mum says to him, “Pappi, I’m so sorry.”

  “Ach, Ursula, she doesn’t exist. You’ve made the whole thing up. You have tricked me,” he shouts. He glares at Isaac, “It’s all your fault.”

  Isaac bows his head. His face looks as if it hasn’t been put together properly. “Yes, you’re probably right,” he says with a voice full of tears.

  “You both, stop!” Mum shouts. “Pappi, we have not deceived you. We’re just as disappointed as you are. All we can do is hope that Ursula will return here. That she does not feel too let down. And Isaac, stop feeling sorry for yourself. Yes, you made a most dreadful mistake forty years ago. You cannot continue blaming yourself. Neither can you,” she turns to Jacov.

  Jacov looks flabbergasted. He is not used to Mum being angry.

  “This is my classroom,” I say to Jacov. He looks around perfunctorily.

  “This is actually where you were sitting waiting,” I tell Isaac.

  He too looks around. “I don’t recognize it,” he says.

  That was the end of that conversation. We walk home.

  Chapter 36

  Claire

  Fiskersund

  Sunday 1. May 1983

  Jacov calms down a bit. He sits talking with Dad while Mum prepares the spare room for him. But suddenly he hammers his hand on the table:

  “It’s my fault! I should have gone to see her at that house. She is punishing me. Ach, kleine Ursula.”

  He begins crying again.

  Privately, I totally agree with him. But does she? Is she punishing him? What would I have done in her place? I remember how devastated Ursula was, under that tree. How the only thing she wished for was to see her father. And she can’t know that we have taken him back with us. We didn’t have a chance to tell her. So maybe she still sits under her tree in Heidelberg, waiting. And there is nobody there to tell her that Jacov is here. Wouldn’t it be nice if I knew someone in Heidelberg who also could see things. Then that person could go to Ursula and tell her. Well, that kind of thinking doesn’t really lead anywhere.

  Dad looks questioningly at Jacov. He does that thing with his eyebrows again. He clears his throat on the verge of saying something. I’ve had enough. To escape the house, I do what I always do – run over to Ellen even though it’s late.

  She jumps up and fires questions as if her life were at stake if she doesn’t manage to ask as many as possible in the shortest possible time:

  “So how was it? Did you run into many ghosts? Or did you run through some? Hah. Did you find this grandfather?”

  I laugh. What a relief to be with someone my own age and be normal. Normal. Normal! “Yeah, we found him,” I say and throw some clothes off a chair so I can sit down.

  As I tell her everything, I see her eyes getting bigger and bigger. Finally, she can’t hold it in: “What a story! And now the ghost is missing. Maybe you should put an ad in the paper.”

  “Ellen! It’s not really funny.” Then I too burst out laughing.

  “But why wouldn’t he see her? I don’t understand it. Couldn’t she just have walked back with you to that doctor?”

  “Search me. She just said that she couldn’t.”

  “Maybe ghosts have traffic rules or something,” Ellen says with a serious face.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” I change the subject. I’m fed up to the brim with Ursula.

  “Is anything happening at school?”

  “You should come tomorrow,” Ellen says. “We’re rehearsing this play about the Jews escaping to Sweden. Guess who has the leading role.”

  “You?”

  Ellen pulls a wry face. “No, Prissy-Lissy. She is actually quite good. But, of course, I hoped I would get that part.”

  “Who do you play then?”

  “A comic old woman who hates the Germans and spits at them.” She flops down on her bed. “Actually, it’s quite a fun part.”

  “Have you done a lot? Where’s the manuscript, can I see it?”

  “No, I forgot it at school. Are you coming tomorrow? I hope you do. It’s been weird not having anybody to whisper to.”

  “I hope. What else have I missed?”

  Ellen doubles up with laughter, “You should’ve seen Jorgen Andersen. Somebody had stuck a note on his back. “Hug me!” He just couldn’t understand why he was suddenly being so popular and that everybody wanted to hug him.”

  I grin. “What about homework?”

  “Claire, you’re being really boring, how would I know?”

  When I get home, it feels like walking into a spider’s web. Sticky and grey. Everybody is sitting in the kitchen.

  I give Dad a hug. “I’ve missed you, it’s so good to see you again, Dad.”

  “I missed you too,” he says, hugging me back. “So, how was Germany?”

  I tell him about Heidelberg, but I have to leave out all the important parts. Why does everything have to be so difficult? I would so love to tell him about Jacov’s old house and about the woman and the children in the garden. But he would think I had
got sunstroke. But as it is obvious that we have found Jacov, he surely should understand. Why can’t he believe all the rest?

  “You’ve got a tan,” he says. “It must have been warm.”

  “Yeah, we sat outside Jacov’s house a lot. And the weather was lovely, almost like summer.”

  Dad puts his journal down: “So, how was the house?”

  I cringe when I think of the mess in Jacov’s house. “It was Okay.”

  “Inga, can I speak to you alone?” Dad asks, after we have eaten. I watch his face when he sees and hears Jacov eating. It doesn’t look too pleased.

  They walk into the living room. I look at Jacov. “Do you mind if I call you Jacov?” I ask. “It’s too strange calling you Granddad or Grossvater? Or I could call you grandpa?”

  He smiles. “That sounds nice. We must learn to talk Danish and German together.”

  “Are you going to stay with us?”

  He looks questioningly at me. I notice that his hands are clasped tightly together: “Would you like me to?”

  Suddenly I know that is what I would like. The inner warring is finished. I don’t care if he’s a bit odd. Or even a lot.

  Mum comes back into the kitchen. The front door slams.

  I run outside. “Dad, don’t leave. You have to stay.”

  “Claire, this is not about you, but about your mother and I.”

  “Well, it concerns me too. Why can’t you stay?”

  Dad looks serious. “I’m sorry, but right now it’s too difficult, Claire.”

  The tears begin to roll down my face. Dad holds me tight.

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  He wipes the tears off my cheeks.

  “Darling, I’ll see you soon. Now you just go in and be with your new granddad.”

  Chapter 37

  Claire

  Monday 2. May 1983

  Mum thinks I should wait until tomorrow before going back to school. She says, “You need a day off to find yourself.”

  I don’t know what she means.

  “But I want to go to school.”

  “I talked to Kirsten. She says it’s fine that you stay at home today.”

  It is rather nice having time to think my own thoughts, in the end. Everything feels so unfinished, even if Jacov is here with us. I miss Ursula. She never felt like a ghost, just a girl my own age. I hope with all my heart that she will turn up and that we then can get on with our lives. Maybe Dad will come back. The unthinkable thought that he might not, I push to the back of my head.