Hidden Depths

by Ally Rose

  ‘Axel. I named him Axel,’ Susanne replied. ‘Do you like his name?’

  Felix smiled at his sister and nodded approvingly, which seemed to please her.

  Bernd left not long after supper. He had the option to stay overnight and enjoy a few glasses of Schnapps but it was only an hour back to the Berlin suburbs and Ute and the girls would be excited to hear all the news. It had been a memorable day. Klaus walked Bernd to his car to see him off.

  Klaus patted his brother’s back. ‘Thank you for all you have done today.’

  Bernd smiled and shook Klaus’s hand. ‘Brothers in arms. We did it together.’

  ‘Susanne’s got a long, tough road ahead,’ Klaus said.

  ‘I’ll bring my girls down next week. A bit of girlie company, that’ll cheer her up.’

  ‘Great! Now, don’t forget what we said.’

  ‘We’ve said a lot today,’ Bernd mused.

  ‘Golf!’ Klaus reminded him. ‘Let’s find out about our options for a golf course.’

  ‘Oh yes. Golf.’

  The brothers said a fond farewell and Klaus returned to his newly expanded family and the warmth of the fireside.

  ‘How about a game of cards?’ Klaus asked them all.

  ‘Skip-bo ?’ Felix suggested.

  Klaus was glad to see Susanne’s mood from earlier in the day had improved. He thought it was possibly a mixture of being with the family, Ingrid’s home cooking and the realisation dawning on her that she was finally free. His optimism was flawed, however: it would turn out to be the brief sunrise of a false dawn.

  Playing cards, they relaxed together without the pressure to talk about the traumatic events of the past. Personality traits are often revealed through play and their game of Skip-bo quickly took an interesting turn.

  Klaus nudged his wife. ‘Come on, Ingrid, it’s your go.’

  Ingrid eventually put down a card.

  ‘No! You’ll help Felix that way,’ Klaus objected.

  ‘I’m not ruthless when I play cards,’ Ingrid said emphatically.

  Felix put down a few cards and then hesitated, perusing the other cards on the table.

  ‘Thinking about your next move?’ Susanne asked her brother.

  Susanne’s words were cryptic, meant as a double entendre, but Felix didn’t respond and she continued to dig at him. ‘You must have a joker, to get you out of trouble.’

  Ingrid didn’t know whether the tension between Felix and Susanne was sibling rivalry but sensed an unspoken edginess between them.

  Felix felt under scrutiny. ‘When a door closes and a window of opportunity opens it’s best to climb through it,’ he said, then finished the game with a flourish. ‘I’m out.’

  ‘The winner takes it all,’ muttered Susanne, stony-faced.

  Ingrid observed the twins closely and decided it was simply sibling competitiveness. ‘Good job we weren’t playing for money,’ she remarked.

  ‘You know what they say? Lucky at cards, unlucky in love.’

  ‘Well, my dear husband, you always win at cards. What does that say then?’

  ‘Exceptions to every rule, my dear,’ said Klaus, blowing a kiss at Ingrid.

  Axel began to cry.

  ‘Oh, he’s hungry again. I’ll go and feed him.’ Susanne picked up her son and left the room.

  ‘I’m ready for my bed, it’s been a long day,’ Klaus confessed.

  ‘Onkel, can I use your carpentry tools tomorrow?’ Felix whispered.

  Klaus was curious. ‘Of course. What for?’

  ‘With the spare wood in the boathouse I thought I’d make a crib for Axel.’

  ‘Good idea. I’m off to bed, good night,’ Klaus said, yawning and went to his room.

  ‘Felix,’ Ingrid began. ‘I was thinking about going to see the principal at the village school, to ask when you can re-start your school life.’

  ‘Can’t I just start working with Onkel?’ Felix replied, reluctantly.

  Ingrid shook her head. ‘You haven’t had a proper education for the last few years. I think it’ll be good for you, to mix with young people again.’

  Susanne returned to the room with Axel, who was crying incessantly. ‘He won’t feed! I think my milk is drying up,’ she said, anxiously.

  Ingrid called Klaus out from their bedroom. ‘Quick, go into the café… Under the counter there are baby bottles and some powdered baby milk I keep for my customers, in case of an emergency. Don’t worry Susanne, it’s quite common, and lots of babies take bottled milk.’

  Klaus hurried out to the café and Ingrid disappeared to the kitchen. Felix and Susanne were left alone with Axel.

  ‘Susi, you’re exhausted. Let me have him.’

  Susanne handed Axel to her brother who rocked him in an attempt to calm him.

  Once the bottle was ready, Susanne asked Ingrid to feed Axel as she was afraid he would be frustrated in suddenly coming off the breast. But Axel took to the bottle easily and Ingrid was surprisingly natural at feeding him.

  ‘How fickle. All he needs is feeding, changing and a few cuddles and he’ll take it from any source,’ Susanne observed.

  ‘He’s a nice healthy size, you’ve done a good job,’ Ingrid told her niece. ‘We’ll go out tomorrow and get a sterilising set, some new bottles, nappies and clothes for him.’

  ‘I wanted to keep him,’ Susanne began. ‘They asked me if I wanted to have him adopted but I refused. If the Berlin Wall hadn’t fallen and changed things I wouldn’t have been allowed to keep him and bring him home to my family,’ she said. She burst into tears.

  Ingrid handed the baby to Klaus to finish feeding and swept Susanne into her arms.

  ‘Come on, young lady. Let’s get you into bed. I’ll check on Axel during the night. You need a good night’s sleep and you’ll feel so much better in the morning.’

  Susanne didn’t argue and went with Ingrid to the bedroom. Klaus propped Axel on the sofa, between some cushions and finished feeding him.

  ‘You haven’t winded him,’ Felix noted. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Klaus watched Felix carefully handling the baby and gently rubbing his back. Axel soon let out a loud, healthy burp.

  ‘When did you become an expert on babies, Onkel Felix?’ Klaus joked.

  ‘Common knowledge. First you feed them, then wind them and then change them. Look, he’s straining, I bet he’s trying to poop.’

  Klaus smiled. ‘I’ll get a fresh nappy and you can change him.’

  ‘Ssshush.’

  At first Klaus thought Felix was making soothing baby sounds but he was actually doing was asking for quiet.

  ‘Onkel. Listen… Tante is singing Susi to sleep.’

  Ingrid’s dulcet voice could be heard, singing a lullaby.

  ‘She’s a good woman,’ Klaus said, proudly. ‘Felix, why don’t you sleep here tonight?’

  ‘I’m fine in Das Kino and the straw insulates the room really well.’

  ‘My boy, you don’t have to stay hidden any more,’ Klaus reassured him.

  Felix nodded. ‘I know. But for now, I’d rather stay in my own little space.’

  ‘OK, just as long as you don’t get too cold.’

  Ingrid tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. ‘She’s asleep. Poor girl, she’s so very tired. Even if she sleeps all day, let her. We can all muck in and look after the baby. What’s that smell?’

  ‘Not me!’ Klaus joked. ‘Axel needs changing.’

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for, Great Onkel Klaus?’

  Ingrid did the night feeds and Susanne had an unbroken sleep until late the following morning. When she awoke she didn’t recognize her surroundings but catching sight of an old photo of her grandmother Gertrude on a bedside dresser she remembered where she was. But where was Axel? She dressed and went to find him sitting quite happily in his carrycot, Ingrid talking baby talk to him as she was ironing.

  ‘Morning,’ Ingrid said, putting down her iron. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘Yes
. Did Axel wake you in the night?’

  ‘Only once. I told you I’d do the night feeds until you’re feeling better.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Susanne stroking her son’s head. ‘You’ve got so many people to love you. What a lucky boy you are!’

  ‘Hungry?’ Ingrid enquired. ‘I’ll make you some breakfast, anything you like.’

  Susanne nodded. ‘I’ll help myself, if that’s OK.’

  ‘This is your home now, yours and Axel’s.’

  Susanne suddenly doubled over in pain.

  Ingrid grew concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Susanne sat down and the pain eased. ‘It was a difficult birth. They had to cut me. I get the cramps sometimes.’

  ‘You take it easy,’ Ingrid advised.

  Susanne went to the bathroom and checked herself. She’d been menstruating for a month now and although it was a light flow of blood and the doctors at the nursing home had told her it might last for six weeks, it was draining her. After showering she dressed again and went to the kitchen to eat some porridge and a strong cup of coffee. She could see how kind Ingrid was being to her and wanted to say something nice to show her gratitude.

  ‘Thank you for singing me to sleep last night. Mutti used to sing to us.’

  Ingrid looked wistful. ‘I heard her sometimes. Sofie had a sweet voice.’

  Susanne thought about asking Ingrid about what happened between the two sisters but decided it would only bring back painful memories. Sofie was long gone and everyone had their regrets for one reason of another. There had been a lot of water under the bridge since then. She barely recognised herself these days. What was important for her was to try and focus on the present and today she had to tie up some loose ends.

  ‘Where’s Felix?’ Susanne asked.

  ‘He’s in Das Kino, over the road.’

  ‘I want to talk to him.’

  ‘No, don’t go, I mean… It’s a secret,’ Ingrid blurted out.

  ‘A secret? Tante, I don’t like secrets, please tell me.’

  ‘He’s making something for the baby. Sorry, it was meant to be a surprise.’

  ‘I’ve kept secrets just to stay alive. Tante, I can’t do it any more.’

  There was nothing Ingrid could say. Implicitly, she understood.

  ‘There will be no more secrets between Felix and me,’ Susanne announced and put her coat on. ‘Please look after Axel for me,’ she said, kissing her son and embracing Ingrid warmly before going outside.

  Felix was working in Das Kino, making the baby crib. He was good at woodwork, good with any task where he could use his hands. Under Klaus’s tutorage, given a piece of wood, he was rapidly developing the skills to turn it into something interesting and useful. One day he hoped to build a small boat but for now, he made chairs, tables, anything practical.

  Initially when his sister came in he was irritated.

  ‘Susi! What I’m making was meant to be a surprise,’ he said, with disappointment.

  ‘You know I don’t like surprises but it’s a lovely crib. Thank you. But Felix, please. We need to talk.’

  It was approaching lunchtime. Ingrid had made eisbein – pickled ham – with sauerkraut . A hungry Klaus came in and was promptly kissed by his wife.

  ‘Klaus, look after Axel for me. I’m going to call the twins for lunch. Won’t be long.’

  ‘What’s that lovely kiss for?’

  Ingrid kissed her husband again. ‘For bringing my family back together.’

  Klaus smiled. ‘You like having a baby in the house, eh?’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Ingrid said, smiling broadly.

  The snow crunched beneath her feet walking along the path to the hangar. The doors were wide open and she saw Felix come out briefly only to disappear inside again.

  Then she heard the twins’ raised voices, followed by a wild, falling scream, a heavy thud and the crack of bones on concrete. It was a moment that would change all of their lives forever.

  Ingrid ran to the entrance of Das Kino, her heartbeat racing so hard it was audible. Inside the hangar, she saw Susanne’s broken body lying lifeless on the floor. She had landed not far from where Felix was standing, frozen in horror.

  ‘NO!’ Ingrid cried. ‘Scheisse ! What on earth has happened?’

  Felix began screaming, then suddenly bolted into action, rushing to cradle his sister’s bloody head in his arms.

  ‘NO!’ he screamed, over and over. ‘NO!’

  Chapter Eight: The Doctor

  FELIX CARRIED SUSANNE FROM Das Kino to the cottage, her blood dripping a trail of red on the pristine white snow. The warmth of her body was ebbing away, yet as Felix laid her on a bed she looked as if she was sleeping, peaceful at last. Axel snoozed in his cot, blissfully unaware that when he awoke crying for the comfort and sustenance of suckling his mother’s breasts his cries would forever go unheard.

  Klaus and Ingrid stood watching at the bedroom door, stunned and quiet.

  Felix broke the silence. ‘It’s all my fault. Susi and I argued and then she jumped.’

  Ingrid was adamant. ‘No! It’s not your fault. We didn’t know she’d do that!’

  ‘I left her in that fucking place! She couldn’t forgive me,’ Felix yelled.

  ‘Stop that!’ Ingrid insisted. ‘Whatever you were arguing about, she’d made up her mind to jump. Now, what we are going to do?’

  Felix reluctantly left Susanne’s side and carried Axel in his cot out of the room.

  ‘We need a doctor,’ Klaus said, picking up a telephone directory.

  ‘I know a doctor,’ Felix began. ‘Dr Jens. He helped me escape.’

  Klaus nodded. ‘I remember. And Susanne spoke about him too.’

  Felix was distraught. ‘You must call him.’ He handed over the identity card with Dr Jens’s details.

  ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘Onkel, no questions, not now. He’ll help us. Please, call him.’

  Klaus decided to trust Felix’s instinct and rang the number. A man answered.

  ‘Dr Wissemann?’ Klaus asked.

  ‘Yes. Who is this?’

  ‘Please, don’t hang up, I’m Felix and Susanne Waltz’s Onkel. There’s been an accident.’

  Dr Wissemann was shocked by Klaus’s tragic news and knew he had to help. He thought back to his days at Torgau. He had sat on his hands for too long, telling himself it was not his business what the wardens got up to. In the hospital wing he had seen the effects of abuse that some wardens inflicted on the children on a regular basis. His job was somewhat perfunctory: to tend to their wounds, get on with his tasks and say nothing. In East Germany at that time, as a man in his mid 50s, he knew he was unlikely to find another job and he had his family to think of. A steady income paid the bills and gave them a reasonable lifestyle. He’d convinced himself that challenging the system would be futile and he feared the consequences of such a challenge. But his sense of guilt at his collaboration of silence had grown and gnawed away at his conscience and by tolerating it, his apathy had made the evil possible. When news of the fall of Communism spread throughout Eastern Europe during 1989, he had decided to take a few risks.

  Dr Wissemann had been one of a dozen or so doctors and nurses who had worked shifts in the Torgau hospital wing, tending the wounds of children who had been subjected to a long list of injuries: cuts, bruises, horrific weals from beatings with belts, broken fingers and toes. All were commonplace. But those he found most pitiful were the children sent to the hospital wing suffering from constipation and anal sores from the effects of the buggery they endured during ‘an evening of evil entertainment’ with the paedophiles. And the most infamous paedophiles at Torgau were three men who were known by their pseudonym of ‘The Three Musketeers’.

  Their real names were Horst Gwisdek, Gunther Schukrafft and Harald Plaumann and their reputation at Torgau was legendary. Children spoke about them in whispers, hearing about them from friends and fellow victims. Resting uneasily in their beds at night, they
would pray it wasn’t their turn and feel guiltily relieved when another kid received a knock on their bedpost, to be taken from their bed and led to the evil trio. For those unfortunate enough to be chosen, a long night of terrifying, painful, drunken debauchery lay ahead, ensuring the Musketeers lived up to their motto of ‘all for one, and one for all’.

  The Musketeers used a go-between to take the children from their beds at night, a young, female warden who obeyed orders and never questioned her superiors. Her name was Lotte Holler.

  When Dr Wissemann was on duty at Torgau he had liked to surreptitiously listen to the BBC World Service. His English was good enough to understand what was being said and the historic news that the Soviet control of the Eastern bloc countries was loosening enraptured him. One crisp, spring night, he’d heard the sound of footsteps approaching his office and turned off the radio. There was a knock on the door. It was Lotte Holler.

  A young, fair-haired boy cowered behind her, crying in the corner. He recognised the boy immediately as one he was particularly sorry for, a little chap called Felix. He and his twin sister Susanne were regular victims of the Musketeers who, before they abused the twins sexually, made them dance to music. Dr Wissemann treated Felix and Susanne when they were brought to him afterwards, sad and sore. He used to offer them a brief respite, letting them stay overnight on the ward together.

  ‘Herr Doktor,’ Lotte began. ‘One of the inmates has been playing silly fools with a cigar, he’s burned his ears.’

  ‘How did he get hold of a cigar?’

  Lotte shrugged her shoulders. ‘These kids get up to all sorts.’

  Dr Wissemann knew she was lying. He guessed the cigar burns had been inflicted by the Musketeers. Felix’s ears had blistered and he was trying to be brave and not cry, but his legs gave way beneath him and he sank to the floor in agony, muffling his cries by biting on his shirt collar.

  ‘Stand up!’ said Lotte, in a fierce and merciless voice.

  Felix had stood up. He didn’t know if this was the start of another game where the wardens repeated ‘stand up, sit down’ ad infinitum, simply for their amusement.

  ‘I’ll keep him here overnight,’ said Dr Wissemann. ‘Burn wounds need to be dressed every few hours or so and he can sleep in the hospital ward tonight.’