A Distant Hope
Page 14
Luise was surprised to see that Sigmund Leffers, Raimund’s father and the kaiser’s envoy, was paying them a visit. They’d never had a visitor during all that time in Cameroon. They only met other people during the get-togethers after church.
“Good evening.”
Luise approached, and Leffers stood up and extended a hand of welcome.
“Fräulein Luise.”
“Sigmund has come to discuss the current situation. Come join us, Luise. This concerns you, too.”
Hamza waited off the veranda.
“I’ll go and quickly freshen up and be right back,” Luise said. “Hamza, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hamza raised his hand. “Good night, Luise,” he said. “Good night, sango.”
“Good night, Hamza,” Robert replied, waving to Malambuku’s son.
“He calls your daughter by her given name?” Luise heard Leffers ask. She paused behind the door to hear her father’s answer.
“Yes. Hamza and Luise have become friends. She doesn’t like him to address her formally.”
“If you ask me, a friendship between a German and a native is out of the question. It may concur with our desire to treat them humanely, but ultimately we must see them for what they are: animals who do our bidding.”
Luise blinked.
“Really? Is that how you see people here?” her father responded.
“We all do. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here, making our fortunes by enslaving the natives, but most aren’t honest enough to admit it. Our kaiser conquered this country, and it is our duty to tame and civilize the savages.”
Luise brushed back her hair and stood up straight. She pushed aside the idea of washing up; she was enraged by what she’d just heard. She took a resolute step out from behind the door and sat down at the table.
“So, Sigmund”—Robert eyed the man opposite him—“would you please tell Luise what you just told me?”
“Of course. You mustn’t worry, Luise. The kaiser is sending men to guarantee our security. But there have been some incidents we cannot ignore. As you probably heard after church, there are some men from the Bantu tribe who are acting rebelliously.”
“The Bantu are not a tribe,” Luise replied, unfazed.
“What do you mean?” Leffers wondered.
“Bantu is a collective term for all the tribes around here,” Luise said, correcting him. “It’s as if you said that there are no Berliners, just Germans.”
Robert grinned. He suspected she’d heard Leffers’s disparaging words about the natives.
“It has been reported to me otherwise,” Leffers said.
“Well, I know it from the people here. And they surely know which tribe they belong to.”
“Luise,” her father cautioned.
“I beg your pardon. But in my opinion there is much that we Germans do not understand, yet we presume to judge the situation. I admit this disturbs me.”
“Without wishing to offend you, Luise, I wonder if you might identify too much with the natives.”
“Identify? In what way?” She cocked her head and gave him a friendly look. But anyone who knew her would know that she was seething.
“Well, in the sense that you harbor too much sympathy for them.”
“But who wouldn’t find these warmhearted, honest people sympathetic? Who wouldn’t be grateful that they ensure us a good income and make our accomplishments possible?”
“They are the workers and we are their masters, Luise. Is that not clear? We are superior to them in every way. And with that superiority comes the responsibility to lead the simpleminded.”
The corners of Luise’s mouth twitched. “Perhaps I haven’t the time to fully comprehend what you’ve said. But the people absolutely do not seem stupid at all, let alone inferior in any way. In fact, we learn a lot from them. They just don’t show it plainly because they don’t want to embarrass us.”
Leffers shook his head. “Robert, who taught your daughter such nonsense?”
Luise watched her father carefully, afraid of his answer.
“Me, of course,” he said, and Luise breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, I think we won’t arrive at any consensus here.”
“You wish, then, to withdraw from the coalition of the Germans?”
“Not at all. We’ll stay in the community and do everything to ensure its success. And if it comes to fighting those responsible for the attacks, we will happily be at your side. Along with our Duala.”
Leffers rose to his feet. “That is not quite what I hoped for, but we at least agree in this respect.”
“Essentially, yes.” Robert stood up also and offered Leffers his hand in goodbye.
“Luise,” Leffers said, and made a slight bow and walked back to his horse. He whipped the horse’s flank without waiting for his servant.
“Sorry if I spoke rashly,” Luise said.
“Our behavior wasn’t particularly astute,” Robert said, and went over to Luise and stood behind her in her chair, putting his hands on her shoulders. “But I can’t stomach that inhumane blather.” He kissed her head.
“Do you think things could become dangerous?”
“Maybe. But I’ll never discuss it with a person like Leffers. I’ll ask Malambuku about it in the morning. His counsel is more valuable.”
“I’m glad you don’t think like the rest of the Germans.”
“And unfortunately, with one exception, we Germans aren’t even the worst. Take the English, the French—they all think they can enslave the natives and abuse them for their purposes.”
“One exception?”
“Carl Peters.” Robert sat back down facing his daughter.
She shrugged. “I don’t know him.”
“He’s the founder of the colony of German East Africa. That’s his official title. Truth is, he’s a butcher planning to completely subjugate the natives and slaughter everybody who won’t submit. Wherever Peters goes, he leaves many bodies behind.”
Luise covered her mouth in horror.
Robert rubbed his tired eyes. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s been a hard day. I’ll talk to Malambuku tomorrow. Then we’ll decide where we’ll go from there.”
“Where is he now?”
“With his people in the village. Some of them caught the fever, and he’s trying to help.”
“Good. I’ll go and tidy myself up and be right back.” She rose.
“Didn’t you do that already?”
Luise felt caught and blurted out, “No, I heard what Leffers was saying and wanted to be with you.”
“I thought so.” Robert chuckled. “Now get a move on. I’m hungry.”
“I will,” she replied. “Me, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hamburg, End of April 1889
“You can’t do that!”
A furious Elisabeth paced back and forth in Georg’s office.
“I’m only doing what your husband asked me to do,” Georg explained. “And he’s right. He’s providing you with an income. You can’t ask more of him than that.”
“With an income?” She stopped to glare at him in anger. “Feeding me can hardly be called an income.”
“What do you expect, Elisabeth, after what you did to him? A bed of roses?”
“I did to him? You are mad. How is it that nobody sees what he’s done to me? He dragged me off to Africa and kept me like an animal.”
“Elisabeth, please. I know my brother well enough to know that’s not true.”
“Oh really? Ask Martha, she’ll tell you. Everything there is dirty, and there are savages all over, waiting to kill you.”
“Robert says he has very reliable natives working for him.”
“They are Negroes, Georg! They run with naked torsos and a flimsy cloth below that is lifted by the slightest gust of wind. Georg, now I ask you, is that a life for a Hamburg society woman?”
“Robert is doing it for us, Elisabeth,” Georg said pointedly. “Have you really not grasped that?
He’s not in Cameroon because he wants to be there. He’s there to make money for the family.” He paused to consider whether he should tell her what he was thinking. “Do you know how badly off we were before your husband made that courageous decision?”
Elisabeth sat in front of Georg’s desk. “No. How was I to know? You never spoke a word to us about finances.”
“Because you only want to be taken care of. You and Vera don’t care where the money’s coming from,” Georg remonstrated.
“That’s not fair, Georg. You keep us out of everything, don’t share any information, and then accuse us of not understanding anything.”
Georg swallowed his annoyance. His sister-in-law wasn’t entirely wrong, though he’d never seen her or his wife show even a passing interest in the family’s business.
“If you want to know the details, we were a hair’s breadth away from having to sell the villa.”
Elisabeth opened her eyes wide in shock. “The villa?”
“Yes, the villa. We couldn’t service our debt anymore, and we owe it to Robert alone that our banker, Palm, gave us one final postponement. It’s only because of Robert’s plantation scheme and the profit he made that Palm could be persuaded.”
Georg didn’t say that the deciding factor had been the mention of August Frederiksen as the potential new owner of the villa.
Elisabeth kneaded her fingers nervously. “I had no idea,” she admitted in a small voice.
“If Robert hadn’t gotten up his courage and gone to Cameroon, you wouldn’t be in the villa right now but in some apartment somewhere, happy just to have enough to eat.”
Elisabeth covered her face with her hands. “I am ashamed of myself, Georg,” she said, bursting into tears.
Georg took out his handkerchief and handed it to her. “You and your husband ought to have discussed it more thoroughly,” he said. “Then maybe you would be with him where you belong.”
Elisabeth dabbed her tears away. “I suppose I would be with him. But that’s not where I belong.” She looked at him, red eyed. “I think that Robert and I simply don’t belong together. I should never have married him.”
“The very idea! You’ve enjoyed many happy years together.”
She shook her head. “No, we have not. Robert was never the man I wanted.” She took a deep breath.
“No.” She lifted her head. “I only chose him so I could be near you.”
Georg looked at her, stunned. “That’s absurd, Elisabeth.”
“No. It is time I told you. I will start to be honest now, after more than eighteen years.”
“I really don’t follow.”
“Do you remember when we met, Georg?”
“I don’t recall.” He thought hard. “It was at some function, right?”
“Quite right. It was at the Rudolfs’. My father introduced us, and yes, Georg, I fell in love with you right then and there.”
Georg looked at her incredulously. “Honestly, I can’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve never given the slightest hint.”
“You were already engaged to Vera, and I had no right to come between you two. Besides, the feelings were unrequited.”
Georg looked at her in a way she couldn’t interpret. “I’ll grant one thing. I’ve never thought you two were a good fit.”
“Neither are you and Vera.”
“You think not?”
“Of course. We both know she hasn’t made you happy.”
“You really think that?”
Elisabeth stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Well, that has nothing to do with me.”
Georg looked at her, thinking for a minute before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, Elisabeth, but I can’t give you more than Robert has allowed for,” he declared, returning to the initial topic of their conversation.
Elisabeth got to her feet. “No matter. One thing has become clear to me.”
“Which is?”
“I ought to move out of the villa.”
“But, Elisabeth, where will you go? Into an apartment with Martha?”
“It is a nightmare, I know. But I have been fooling myself for too long.”
“You would be ostracized from society, and that’s so important to you.”
“I am aware of that. But how can I go on like this?”
“The important thing is not to be hasty. The situation is difficult. But I’m convinced that you and Robert will get it under control.”
“But I do not love him . . .”
“There’ll be nobody in your apartment who you love either. So why give up your position? At some point, I’m sure Robert will leave Cameroon behind.”
Elisabeth went to Georg and stood beside him, looking down at him. “I’ll think more about it. Many thanks for your advice.”
She brushed his cheek tenderly and left without another word.
As she rode back to the villa, she mulled everything over. Clever, well-considered tactics were crucial. Needless to say, she hadn’t intended for a moment to move out of the villa into an apartment. Never! She had needs, after all, primarily for social standing. She had to manage to paint Robert as a bad husband while saying only good things about him and building up some understanding for future ploys. No easy task. But she would not be Elisabeth Hansen if she caved at this point.
Her little scene with Georg had been improvised. She’d wanted to get him to guarantee her a monthly sum that would cover her passion for the finer things in life. It was not in her nature to be spontaneous, but she saw the look on his face and recognized the doubt she’d kindled in him. Or was it lust?
By the time she arrived at the villa, she’d designed a plan. She smiled as she left the carriage and glanced up at the villa’s facade. A genuinely beautiful building, one that was worthy of her. She was determined not to let a day go by where she didn’t do everything within her power to satisfy her desires. Hers and Martha’s, whose future lay in her hands alone. She climbed up the front stairs with a firm tread.
Upon entering the house, she heard voices in the parlor.
“I’m back,” she said, opening the door.
“Oh, Elisabeth.” Vera appeared distraught, talking with her son.
“What happened?” Elisabeth asked.
“Come in and close the door,” her sister-in-law said in a conspiratorial tone of voice.
Elisabeth sat down beside Vera on the couch; Richard was in the armchair opposite.
“Here.” Vera handed her a letter. “When Georg sees this, I don’t know what will happen.”
Elisabeth skimmed the contents. “So you might have to leave the school without graduating?”
Richard made a fist. “It’s not my fault. Well, not only. The teachers have it in for me. Maybe because I’m a Hansen, I don’t know.”
“Why should they have something against the Hansen family?” Elisabeth asked, puzzled.
“Stop it!” Vera answered. “Don’t pay any attention to his excuses, Elisabeth. My son is just looking for a scapegoat to hide his own failures.”
“What have you been up to?” Elisabeth asked her nephew. “One does not receive a letter such as this just because of poor grades.”
“There was something going on. But I just went along with it. It wasn’t my idea.”
“What did you do?” Vera gave him a harsh look. “You tell me the whole truth now, or God help you!”
“There’s a stand near the school where apple farmers sell cider. We gradually bought up all the cider and never returned the empties. Well, anyway . . . Eberhard and Matthias lured the farmer away, and we switched out the bottles.”
“What do you mean?”
“We took the bottles we’d collected over the last few weeks, and when the farmer was away with Eberhard and Matthias, we switched the cider and beer bottles, and when the farmer came back, he sold beer to everybody and didn’t realize it.” He couldn’t resist a grin. “The bottles sold like never before once the other students disco
vered what was in them. Almost everybody got blind drunk.”
“If you laugh, Richard, you’ll get a beating, I swear it!” Vera said, raising her hand.
“Who else was in on it? Who are Eberhard and Matthias?”
“Eberhard Breitenbaum and Matthias Wittbold. They got the same letter.”
“Who else?” Vera kept pushing.
Richard shook his head. “He only helped us with the switch because I asked him to. I won’t say who.”
“You tell me right now who else was involved!” Vera demanded.
Richard looked her squarely in the eye. “Nobody knows he helped, and I won’t betray him.”
“Your father will punish you if you don’t tell us his name, you can count on it!”
“Bah! Father punish me?” He raised his eyebrows. “If you say so. But I won’t tell you his name no matter what.”
Vera turned to Elisabeth for help. “What am I to do?”
Elisabeth thought for a minute. “Nothing at all.” She stood up. “Is the principal still there?” she asked Richard.
“I think so. They gave me the letter this morning and said I had to leave school right away. I didn’t come home directly. I just walked around for a while. But classes are still on. I don’t know if Big Cheeks Hajo is still there.”
“Big Cheeks Hajo?” Elisabeth looked at him, mystified.
“Hajo Feldkamp, the principal. He looks like a hamster, so somebody came up with the nickname.”
Elisabeth sighed. “Stand up and come with me.”
“What are you going to do?” Vera got up, too.
“I’ll go with Richard to the school and try to clear up this matter. Your father will find out about it nevertheless and will certainly not be happy. It would be better if we make an agreement with the principal and present your father with that.”
“You’ll take him there?” Vera hugged her sister-in-law. “Thank you so much! I’m no good at these things and would likely just start to cry.” She paused. “Or should we wait for Georg?”
“Georg has plenty to do at the office. And I’ve caused you distress and worry by not returning to Cameroon. If I can begin to make up for it in this way, I wish to try.”
“You two go, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed that all this can be laid to rest somehow.” Vera hugged Elisabeth again, looked angrily at Richard, and called for a carriage.