Opposite Sides

by Susan Firman

CHAPTER 9

  The Picnic

  “Hans, what are you doing this afternoon?”

  The telephone rang and Ellen had handed him the hand piece. It was Anne’s voice on the other end of the earpiece.

  “Nothing.”

  He sounded a bit low in spirits.

  “I’ve found a great place to walk to.” The voice in his ear sounded happy and cheerful. “I’m sure you’ll love it. It’s such a beautiful afternoon.”

  “I don’t know . . . ”

  He had been at a loss for someone to talk to since Heidi had gone. The chirpy voice coming through the earpiece began to lift his spirits.

  “Look, Gerald, I and . . ” She sounded so enthusiastic. “Come on! You’ll love it once we’re there.”

  “But I had thought . . .”

  “Don’t Hans. Just come! Meet you after dinner by the back gate. Half one. Don’t be late!”

  “I’m never late!”

  “Bye!”

  Hans replaced the receiver and made his way in the direction of the dining room.

  Midday dinner was rushed. Ellen and Mary had their hands full with all the chores since Heidi had left. Hans was in a hurry. It was just gone one twenty. Automatically, he began to stack up his plates as though he would take them away.

  “Leave them!” Miss Turner dropped her napkin on to her plate and prepared to stand up. “Mary and Ellen are quite capable. You have my permission to leave the table, Mister Resmel. Off you go.” Jan coughed and her aunt looked directly at her from across the table. “Janine, time for your piano practise.”

  Jan’s bottom lip dropped. She pulled a sulky face but obeyed. She would be spending the next hour upstairs in the music room practising on the piano. She threw Hans a special sour look, especially when she realised he was going out with Anne and her friends. But her aunt’s word ruled and there would be no escape for her. Jan’s aunt would be taking her usual Sunday afternoon nap in the garden. She would have an hour or two lying in the wicker seat under the shade of her favourite tree.

  When Hans met up with Anne and Gerald, there was an extra person. Anne had brought Caroline to make up a foursome.

  “Caroline meet Hans. He’s been with us at the school. Hans, Caroline.”

  Caroline ran her fingers through her black hair. The light caught it and made it shine like the surface of black obsidian which was made even more attractive by her pale flawless skin. In her left hand she held a sunhut by its wide brim and she smiled slightly as she placed her white hand into Hans’ as she acknowledged his greeting. In the next few minutes, Hans learned not only that that Caroline was left handed but that she had been staying with Anne for a couple days and between them, the girls had made up the picnic basket.

  Half an hour later, they were eagerly making their way along one of the main walkways that led away from the town and into the countryside, when they took the narrower left-hand path that led up the main hill and arched around the back of the town. They climbed over a stile and then progressed up the hill in Indian-file, following the winding track between the hedgerows and nettles. The narrow track skirted around the rear of several fields before coming out onto the slope of a wide grassy area. As they neared the top, they walked under the shady trees that grew in small, dotted copses until the hill steepened just below the crest. The climbing had made them all puff.

  “I found this path myself last month.” Hans paused and breathed deeply. “Here, take my hand, Caroline. I’ll help you up. Here, can you take this for a while, Gerald?”

  Hans handed over the picnic hamper and took the rolled-up rug and they scrambled up the track a little further. They discovered a clearing in the trees, a grassy knoll to one side of where another chalky pathway disappeared off into the distance. They found they could sit with their backs to the bank out of the wind and still see the surrounding landscape. They also had a good view across the Channel. On good days, the copper-sulphate sea sparkled with diamonds and, when the sky was clear, ships could be seen travelling slowly in parallel directions between London and the Atlantic Ocean. Hans knew that just beyond the far horizon line was Europe: another chalky coast in France.

  As they neared the clearing, the long wispy grass tickled their legs and the sea breeze blew away their words. White daisies pushed upwards with their small faces, watching the sun move slowly across the sky.

  “Can anyone find a hollow where we can sit and eat?” asked Anne.

  Gerald pointed out a small, low ridge that appeared to drop away on one side.

  “There’s one! Must be. What do think, Hans?”

  Anne spread the rug out over the shallow sloping hillside and pulled the hamper into the centre. They gathered around like eager children and then all sat down in unison on the rug. Gerald pulled out a silver cigarette box from his pocket and proffered one to Hans.

  “No thanks, not today, Gerald.”

  Gerald inclined his head away from the others and commenced to light up. A whiff of white smoke rose from between his lips into the air.

  “Look. Can you lot see that smoke?”

  “What, off the end of your cigarette?” Anne asked in a surprised tone.

  “No, silly. Over there!” Gerald pointed out to sea. The others strained their eyes and after a while they were able to see a faint plume of smoke rising up into the air and drifting eastwards. “Looks as if it’s heading out into the Atlantic.”

  “Could be a passenger ship,” Caroline commented.

  “Agreed. Maybe they’re going to New York.” Gerald sucked on the end of his cigarette and began helping Anne unpack the hamper.

  “Would you like to go there, Hans?” Caroline removed her sun hat and shook out her jet-black hair that Anne had spent time straightening to make it look more modern.

  “I think that’s too far for me,” he replied. “I’m not a sailor. It was bad enough just crossing the Channel.”

  Gerald turned his head and looked directly at Hans.

  “I don’t care much for the water, either. I’d much rather be up there.” He indicated with a flick of his head that he meant the sky.

  “No good. We can’t get to America by aeroplane just yet,” said Hans.

  “Now that the Atlantic’s been crossed once, it won’t be that long before aeroplanes will be doing the crossing.”

  “It’ll take ages!” Hans exclaimed. He crossed his legs, Indian style and gripped his ankles. “We’ll all be old by then. No. So far as I can see, aeroplanes are only any good for short rides.”

  “Sorry, I disagree. You wait and see, Hans. One day it will happen. And I don’t think it will take too long, either.”

  “Well, Gerald, if you want to get to America by air you could try one of those dirigibles. That would be something like flying in an aeroplane.”

  “What would you boys like to eat?” Anne butted into the boy’s conversation. “There’s a lot to choose: cucumber sandwiches, small meat pies, tomato and . . .” She held up a couple of plates brimming with picnic delicacies.

  Gerald chose two and handed the plate on to Hans.

  “Thanks. Ever been up?”

  “Up?”

  “In an aeroplane.”

  Gerald had been interested in aeroplanes since an uncle of his had been in the Royal Flying Corp. Hans had noticed several large posters on Gerald’s bedroom wall.

  “No,” answered Hans. “And I don’t have any intention of doing so.”

  “If God had meant you to fly,” said Anne, “he’d have put wings on your back.”

  “Be an angel, Gerald, and pass me a sandwich.” Caroline laughed as she looked intently at Gerald to see his reaction but he was far away high up in the sky flying his aeroplane to notice what she had said. Hans found the situation amusing.

  “What was that? Did someone say something?” Gerald had landed. He wiped his wind-blown fair hair out of his eyes. “One day I’ll get my wings. Then you’ll see! I can just see Anne sitting here looking up at me doing my loops and rolls.” Gera
ld stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and picked an apple from the basket. He threw it lightly in Anne’s direction.

  “When do I get my sandwich?” Caroline’s question was almost a plea.

  “Sorry, Caroline. Here.” Anne handed over the plate. “Gerald’s back out flying again. You won’t get sense from him until he comes down to earth again.”

  “I saw one of those aeroplane shows last year. You know, the ones where the girls stand on the wings.” Caroline spread out her arms and almost hit Hans in the eye. “Ooh, sorry. I didn’t mean . . . “

  “That’s all right. It was a near miss, not a hit.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Anne handed Hans another sandwich.

  “Do what?” asked Gerald.

  “Stand on a wing and let you, or anybody, take me up in the sky.”

  “Especially you,” Hans laughed.

  “Yes, I’d be tempted to do a loop. Up and round and over we go.”

  Caroline protested.

  “Stop it, Gerald. You’re making me feel quite sick!”

  Gerald laughed wickedly as the others held their sandwiches halfway between the mat and their mouths.

  “Eat up and put a lining in your stomachs.” Gerald took a large bite and demolished half the triangular sandwich. For a while the conversation ceased as the others followed his example. “You girl’s have made a scrumptious lunch.” Gerald bit into his fourth sandwich and immediately returned to his cockpit as the others helped themselves to some fruit.

  “Can you see France from here?” Caroline looked out across the sea.

  “I don’t think so.” Hans scraped a bothersome piece of apple that had become stuck between his teeth.

  “I think it’s too far away.” Gerald had parked his bi-plane and could now rejoin the conversation. “You can see it from Dover, though. On clear days. If I could fly, I’d be there in an afternoon.”

  “Off you go but you’d be by yourself,” returned Hans.

  “And after a few more hops, I could take you to Germany.”

  “You’d still be on your own.”

  “Will you be going back now that you’ve finished your studies?” Anne asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Hans reached forwards and took another apple out of the hamper. He rubbed it on his pullover.

  “What are you thinking of doing in the long term?” Caroline asked. She had the most beautiful grey-blue eyes Hans had ever seen.

  “Uncle says I should try the diplomatic office, or something. If I did do that, I could stay longer in England.”

  “You like it here?” asked Caroline.

  “I do now. It’s grown on me or I’ve grown on it.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and gave a short laugh, for as yet, he was still not a hundred percent sure of his feelings for this country.

  “You wouldn’t think of going into the military, like Anne’s older brothers?” Caroline asked. Anne had once told Hans that most of the men in her family had been in the military some time in their lives. It was considered to be good training for a young man who might later want to go into business. Anne’s father said it gave the men discipline and dignity. However, since the mess of the Great War, many middle-class people did not think the military was such a good option any more. Hans was inclined to agree and had said he was not enthusiastic about such a career.

  “Not if I can help it, Caroline. Too many military people made too many big mistakes. I don’t think people are ready to trust them again.”

  Gerald, who had been lying on his back for a while dreamingly looking up into the sky, suddenly sat up and spoke.

  “Those Fascists in Italy seem to be trusting the military again. Mr Mussolini made himself a dictator earlier this year. What do you make of all that, Hans?”

  “Italy needed a firm hand. At least everyone is now going in one direction.”

  “Mmm. I suppose so but all the same, I wonder where it’ll take them. In the long run. A Fascist government could prove dangerous.”

  “Better than the mess some of the surrounding countries are in,” said Hans. “One direction is far better than anarchy.”

  “What would you like to do, Hans?” Caroline asked again. She edged a little closer towards him and he could smell the perfume she had applied that morning. It had a soft lavender fragrance.

  “If I had the choice, I like to work with engines or engineering. I liked it when we looked at that section called ‘machines and men.’ I think that the development of machines like the motorcar will become very important.”

  “And aeroplanes! Don’t forget them!”

  “We know, Gerald!” chorused Anne and Hans together.

  “My brother wants to be a driver. He loves the all the new auto-mobiles,” Caroline added.

  “Anyone can drive them.” Anne took a cherry out of the picnic basket and popped it in her mouth. “Daddy said he’d buy me one if I’m good and work diligently.”

  “You’re always a good girl,” Gerald teased. He threw a cherry at her so that it hit her chest and fell into her lap.

  “I won’t offer you a ride in my car, Gerald, if you keep throwing bits of food at me. You’re not behaving as a gentleman should.”

  Anne threw the cherry back to him. Gerald caught it , put it in his mouth and then spat out the tiny stone on the grass.

  “Did You see how far that went!” He beamed with pride at his achievement.

  Anne moved the basket away further from his reach.

  “Behave yourself, Gerald!”

  “I didn’t know I had to today.” Gerald had found the bottle of bubbly at the bottom of the hamper just before it had been moved. He held it up in triumph.

  “Did you put it in there?” Anne’s voice seemed genuinely amazed.

  “A good picnic should always be rounded off with a good drink.”

  “Gerald!”

  “You never know, it might add a bit of sparkle, too. You haven’t seen Hans when he’s had a few, have you?”

  Anne and Caroline shook their heads.

  “Ooh, you don’t drink, do you?” asked Caroline, her blue eyes having grown larger than those of a pekinese. At this point Hans was thinking she looked stunningly beautiful.

  “Only when Gerald tempts me.”

  “And well away from the Turner’s,” added Gerald.

  “You bet.”

  Gerald handed the bottle around. They each filled their glasses; the girls once and the two young men, twice, before the bottle was empty. They shared part of each glass with each other, Anne with Gerald and Caroline with Hans. It was turning out to be a wonderful day and from that moment of sharing, Hans was finding that he was unable to take his eyes from Caroline. He had never been moved like this by anyone before. And he felt a pleasure in it that surged throughout his body and made him feel warm and protective.

  As they began to walk back down the hill, Hans was beginning to think that Caroline was the most fantastic girl he had ever met and by the time they reached the flat pathway, he and Caroline were firmly holding hands.