‘We don’t need it,’ Hans says, ‘and I’ve discussed it with Sebastian. He agrees it would be for the best, under the circumstances.’
Nina shrugs. ‘It seems you’ve already decided,’ she says coolly. ‘What I think hardly seems to matter much.’
Her mother leans forward. ‘It’s for the best.’ She stretches out her hand, but doesn’t quite touch Nina. ‘After all, Kai and Bekka are the closest Marie came to having children of her own.’ Then her face crumples.
Slightly appalled, Nina doesn’t want to argue. She isn’t used to such emotion from her mother and it makes her uncomfortable. Besides, they’re probably right. What else to do with the money? Wherever it came from.
There is the sound of a key in the lock and Sebastian enters the room a moment later.
‘I’m sorry for taking so long,’ he says, before looking around at Nina’s parents. ‘Antonia, Hans, how good to see you.’
Antonia gives him a small smile and Hans nods a greeting.
‘I just popped into the office after I dropped Bekka off,’ Sebastian continues. ‘I haven’t got any appointments tomorrow, so I thought I’d bring some files home. Then I can keep you company.’ He smiles at Nina.
‘But I have work tomorrow,’ she says, frowning, although she hadn’t really thought about it until now.
Sebastian looks across to her parents, then at Nina. ‘You’re not serious? There’s no way I’m letting you go in tomorrow. You need a rest. Look at you! You’re exhausted.’
‘But I have patients scheduled! They rely on me.’ She thinks of Jessica and her heart thumps.
Sebastian crosses the room and crouches in front of her. ‘Be sensible. Please. Anita can reschedule your patients. And I’m sure they can cope without you for one day.’
Nina looks down at her hands. The skin is dry and chapped, uncared for.
‘Sebastian’s right,’ her father says. ‘Spend the day recuperating in bed. It’s no good pretending that nothing happened. That won’t solve anything.’
They’ve defeated her. ‘Okay,’ she whispers.
Sebastian puts his hands on his thighs and pushes himself up. ‘Great,’ he says. ‘Good girl. That’s settled then.’ He looks at Hans. ‘Did you bring your speech?’
Hans nods and gets to his feet. ‘We’ll only be half an hour or so,’ he says to his wife, and then turns to Sebastian. ‘Lead the way.’
The two men head out to the study. Antonia follows them with her gaze.
‘That stupid speech,’ she mutters. ‘He’s been working on it day and night. He’s obsessed. And this dinner party – I wanted a simple reception, but he obviously feels he has something to prove. It’s . . . exhausting.’
Nina tilts her head to one side, surprised – her mother never complains about such things. She feels a sudden jolt of sympathy for her; perhaps it is all getting a little too much. She catches her mother’s face as it settles and notices how old she looks. Antonia has always made a great effort with her appearance – perfectly fitting clothes, expensive moisturisers, regular appointments with her stylist – but she hasn’t managed to halt the passing of time. She will turn seventy in a few months.
She senses Nina looking at her. ‘Nina,’ she says, ‘I’m going to ask you something, now, and I want you to be truthful.’
Nina holds her look.
‘Are you –’ She pauses and clears her throat. ‘Are you looking after yourself?’
Nina nods her head very slightly. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m asking because you look as though you’ve lost weight.’
‘I haven’t had much of an appetite, lately. It’s –’ She wrings her hands, aware that’s she’s covering her untruths with melodrama. ‘It’s not much, a few pounds. It probably looks more than that because I’m tired.’
‘You’re not starving yourself, are you?’
‘No,’ she says quickly. ‘No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s been so – so hard, Mama.’
‘I know.’
‘But –’ She swallows and attempts a smile. ‘I suppose it’s getting better. Every day that passes is better.’ The lie sucks any remaining strength from her.
‘I see,’ Antonia says, so quietly Nina has to strain to hear her. ‘It’s just – the thought of losing you as well . . .’ She doesn’t finish her sentence.
‘I think I’ll have a cup of tea,’ Nina says into the space. She needs a moment alone. ‘Would you like one?’
Antonia nods. Nina passes the study and hears the low murmur of her father’s and Sebastian’s voices from within. She goes into the kitchen and makes two peppermint teas, adding a spoonful of honey to her mother’s cup. When she returns, Antonia is leaning back on the sofa with her eyes closed. The sight reminds Nina for a moment of Frau Lehmholz.
‘Here, Mama,’ she says, placing the cups on the table.
Her mother opens her eyes. ‘Forgive me, I’m tired,’ she says. She smooths her hair down with one hand, then leans forward and picks up her tea. ‘Did I tell you, I had Bernhard Klopp on the phone the other day?’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. He asked me to pass on a message to Papa – apparently, I’m your father’s personal secretary.’ She raises her eyebrows. ‘But anyway. Yes. Bernhard mentioned you’d called him. He asked how you were doing.’
Nina sips her tea. ‘That’s nice of him.’
A motorcycle speeds past the house outside, the harsh rasp of its illegally modified engine slicing through the quiet.
Antonia twists her head towards the window at the sound, but it fades into a distant buzzing. She turns back. ‘I don’t want you to be bothering him, Nina. He’s a very busy man.’
‘I’m not bothering him, Mama. In fact, he gave me his card and told me to call if I needed any assistance.’
‘What kind of assistance?’
‘I don’t know.’ Nina lets out an impatient sigh. ‘With the police investigation I think.’
Her mother straightens her posture, erasing all trace of her earlier vulnerability. ‘You needn’t be bothering Herr Klopp with that. He was probably just being polite, giving you his card. Besides, Papa has already spoken with the Chief of Police. The investigation has been given top priority.’
So. He told her exactly what she wanted to hear. It’s the way their marriage works. Antonia lets her posture relax again, having, it appears, settled the matter.
‘Mama?’ Nina says after a moment.
‘Yes?’
‘You remember that time when you and Papa separated for a while?’
Antonia recoils as though she’s been slapped across the face. ‘Separated? What are you talking about?’
‘I was eight, Mama. I remember it well. Papa moved out, to a hotel, I think, and you told me he’d be back to visit as often as he could. He stayed away for a couple of weeks, maybe a month.’
‘Oh.’ She takes a sip of tea, puts her cup down. ‘That was a long time ago, Nina.’
‘Yes. I know.’
Nina watches her, can see her reliving the memory. ‘Mama?’ she says again, choosing her words carefully, daringly. ‘Was there ever a time that you regretted him coming back?’
Her mother fixes a tired strand of white hair back into her chignon and sighs. ‘No, never,’ she says. ‘It was a little dip, a low point in our marriage. These things happen. I can’t imagine why you’d want to mention it. Aren’t we feeling miserable enough tonight?’ Then she lets out a gasp, her hand moving to her mouth and her face stricken. ‘It’s not – you and Sebastian, is it?’
‘No. I’m sorry. I mean – no.’
‘Nina.’ She leans forward. ‘This is a difficult time for everyone. It takes enough effort just to get through the day sometimes. Of course it’s going to have an effect on things, relationships, work. Look at your father!’ She waves her hand in the direction of the study. ‘He’s – goodness knows what he’ll do on the tenth of November, when these wretched celebrations are over.’ She lets her shoulders droop. ‘It’s difficult,�
� she repeats in a frayed voice. ‘So you have to hold on, wait for time to pass. And –’, she straightens up a little, ‘it passes. You and Sebastian have been through this before, haven’t you?’
Nina gives her a tired nod.
‘Before Kai was born, remember? And you got through it. You just have to be strong, work together as a team. If only for the children and –’
At that moment, Hans comes in.
‘Come on, darling,’ he says to his wife, giving her a kiss on the forehead. ‘We’d best get home. You look tired.’
Antonia gets to her feet. ‘Just give it time,’ she tells Nina. ‘And give the children a big kiss from their Omi.’
Nina stays in her chair as Sebastian accompanies her parents to the door. He waits at the front door until they’ve driven off, then comes in and slumps down on the sofa.
‘God, what a day,’ he says.
‘Yes,’ Nina says, as she starts to cry so quietly it takes a while before he notices. Then, for the first time since they were newly-weds, he picks her up and carries her tenderly, sweetly to bed.
20
The next morning, Nina showers, get dressed and is about to leave for the practice when her resolve suddenly fails. Just the thought of driving through rush-hour traffic sets off the beginnings of a dull ache behind her eyes. She picks up her phone – a residual tremble in her hands – and calls Anita.
‘I won’t be coming in today,’ she says, fighting back the headache. ‘I wouldn’t be much use to anyone.’
‘That’s fine, I totally understand.’ Anita’s voice is warm.
‘Would you mind rescheduling today’s patients? I think it’ll –’
Anita interrupts her. ‘Oh, but your husband already rang to say you’ll be staying home today.’
‘He did?’
‘Yes, about half an hour ago. He’s awfully sweet, isn’t he? He’s really concerned about you.’
‘Yes, I suppose he is.’
‘So don’t worry about things here. Just look after yourself and get better.’
Nina ends the call, changes out of her work clothes and crawls back into bed. She’s vaguely annoyed that Sebastian called Anita; but then again, she thinks as she pulls the duvet over her and rubs her arms to warm them, she did agree last night that it would be best to take a day off. He was only being thoughtful. And yet.
At lunchtime, Sebastian brings her a plate of shop-bought macaroni cheese, which she flushes down the toilet. At shortly after four o’clock, she hears the children arrive downstairs. She ignores a sharp pain in her stomach, gets out of bed and pulls her tracksuit bottoms over a pair of leggings. Downstairs, Kai runs into her arms, still wearing his school satchel.
‘Mama!’ he shouts.
She hugs him and his bulky satchel. ‘Hi sweetie,’ she says. ‘How was school?’
‘Awesome,’ he says, grinning. ‘I beat Max in sports, in the race, and Frau Jungmeier said she’d give me top marks cos I was the first to finish in maths. Plus I got every sum right!’
‘That sounds wonderful, sweetie.’ She hugs him again, marvelling at the unadulterated pleasure of holding her triumphant, happy son.
Kai frees himself from her arms. His expression turns serious. ‘Are you still poorly, Mama?’
Nina smiles. ‘No. I’m feeling much better. D’you know, I spent all day in bed!’
‘All day?’ he says, laughing. ‘But it’s still day, and you’re not in bed.’
She straightens up and ruffles his hair. Rebekka comes in and dumps her rucksack on the floor.
‘How are you, Bekka?’ Nina asks.
‘I didn’t win a race, and I didn’t get top marks in maths,’ she says. Nina can’t tell from her tone if she’s friend or enemy today. Or lost in grief, she considers with a stab to her heart.
‘You look tired,’ she says. ‘Late night, was it?’
Rebekka rolls her eyes and heads for the kitchen. ‘No, actually,’ she calls back over her shoulder. ‘Lea’s mum so strict, like, you wouldn’t believe.’
Nina takes Kai’s hand and they follow her. Rebekka is smearing a thick layer of peanut butter on a piece of bread.
‘Like, she made us switch the light out at nine thirty,’ she says without looking up. ‘Nine thirty! Unbelievable.’
Kai goes and stands next to his sister. ‘Can I have one?’ he asks.
Without hesitating, Rebekka takes a second slice of bread and spreads it with peanut butter. ‘Here,’ she says, handing it to him. She looks up at Nina and smiles. Nina smiles back, relieved. Friend.
‘Oh, by the way,’ Rebekka continues, licking peanut butter off her finger. ‘There’s an evening of “celebration and contemplation” at school on Friday night.’ She says it in a mock posh voice with compulsory finger quotes. ‘In case you want to go.’
‘That’s pretty short notice,’ Nina says. Noticing Kai has peanut butter on his chin, she picks up the kitchen roll and tears off a square.
Rebekka shrugs. ‘I know. I forgot to tell you sooner. Sorry.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Kai asks, letting Nina wipe his face without a fuss.
‘It’s this thing we’re doing in school,’ Rebekka tells him, and Nina can’t help but see how grown up she is, leaning against the sink, one ankle crossed over the other. Her daughter has a waist, and hips, and breasts. ‘You know, once upon a time –’ Rebekka recites, looking over at Nina and winking, ‘before you and I were even born, there was this huge wall all around Berlin.’
Kai stares at her. His eyes are large and round.
‘And there were some very nasty men,’ Rebekka continues, ‘who were in charge of the wall, who didn’t let anyone out. In fact, they shot anyone who tried to climb over it. And they had big gangs of spies to tell tales on people who were planning to escape.’
Kai pouts and looks at Nina. ‘Is she making this up, Mama?’
Nina shakes her head.
‘And then,’ Rebekka continues, obviously enjoying herself, ‘after many, many years, all the people who lived behind the wall got together and went to where the nasty men lived, and told them to tear the wall down. And the nasty men got scared, because there were millions and millions of people shouting and yelling, and then they finally tore the wall down. All that concrete, with loads of hammers, like human-sized woodpeckers.’ She folds her arms across her chest. ‘And that’s what we’re celebrating at school.’
Kai frowns. ‘Oh, you mean the Berlin Wall.’ Then he takes a bite of his peanut butter sandwich and leaves the kitchen.
‘I suppose that’s one version of the history,’ Nina says to Rebekka. ‘So, anyway, what does this evening of “celebration and contemplation” entail?’
‘Some kids’ll be reading out poems, there’s a twenty-minute play Herr Walther wrote – which is pure crap, by the way – and a kind of dance routine with a PowerPoint display in the background. You don’t have to go,’ she adds.
‘Are you in it?’
Rebekka pulls the corners of her mouth down and shakes her head.
‘Then we’ll have to see,’ Nina tells her. Rebekka hasn’t exactly made it an inviting prospect. ‘I’ll speak to Papa.’
‘Speak to Papa about what?’
Nina spins around. Sebastian is standing at the door, leaning against the frame.
‘Is he watching TV again?’ Nina asks, nodding in the direction of the living room.
Sebastian shrugs. ‘His favourite programme.’
‘They’re all his favourite,’ she says doubtfully.
Sebastian shrugs again. ‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Bekka’s school is putting on some kind of show on Friday. Tell him, Bekka.’
‘Yeah, well, for the anniversary celebrations,’ she says. ‘It’ll probably be really boring, like, but I need you to sign a slip saying whether you’ll come.’
Sebastian rubs his face and sighs. ‘They’re really doing this thing to death, aren’t they?’
Nina brushes some
crumbs from the table with the edge of her hand. ‘Okay, Bekka, just leave the slip on the fridge. We’ll decide later.’
Bekka pushes herself out of her leaning position on the counter. ‘Fine by me,’ she says, and heads upstairs.
‘Spaghetti tonight, I thought,’ Nina says to Sebastian.
‘Do you really feel like cooking?’ He takes a step towards her. ‘I could get some sushi. We haven’t had that in ages.’
‘That’s because the kids hate sushi.’
‘Okay, then I’ll drop by McDonald’s as well.’
He comes right up to her and puts his hands around her waist. ‘Do you remember the first time we had sushi? On that weekend trip to London? I absolutely hated it and you said it was the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted.’ He bends down slightly and rests his forehead on the top of her head. ‘And I said that was probably because the only alternative was English food.’
She remembers. She visualises a tray of sushi and reckons she can handle it. If she scrapes off the rice and has a napkin handy, then she’ll just have to eat a bit of raw fish and cucumber.
‘Deal.’ She nods. ‘Sushi sounds great.’
*
Nina puts Kai to bed. He is tired, and wants her to help him put on his pyjamas. She slips the top over his head and lets him step into the trousers. Then she pulls his bedcovers back and he slips in.
‘Story?’ she asks.
He nods and snuggles down.
She sits up next to him in bed and reads him “A Big Day for Hedgehog Latte”, but notices that his eyes are heavy and so she skips a couple of pages before she gets to the end. He doesn’t complain. She closes the book and reaches over to switch off his bedside lamp.
‘Mama?’ he says.
‘Yes?’
‘They’re building a wall around Jakob’s house.’ His voice is thick with tiredness.
‘Are they?’ she replies, before she understands what he’s talking about. ‘Oh, no, sweetie,’ she says and laughs. ‘That’s just a little wall to stop naughty dogs coming in and doing a poo on the lawn.’ She strokes his cheek with her finger. He giggles sleepily. She leans over and gives him a kiss, delighting in how warm his skin is and his innocent smell of soap and toothpaste.
Sisters of Berlin Page 14
