by Ellin Carsta
Karl finished closing up, and they strolled through the city streets to their apartment.
“I’ve been thinking,” Karl reopened the conversation. “We do want to have children?”
“Yes.”
“But how are we going to manage?”
She shrugged. “Other people do.”
“Only because the women stay home and don’t work.”
“Do you think this is the right time to discuss it? After all, we’ve just expanded the café.”
“That’s exactly why I’m talking about it. We should be prepared if you were to get pregnant.”
“What exactly do you expect from me?”
“Nothing, Therese. Quite the opposite. I’d like to help if I can.”
Therese was quiet for a while. Then she said, “I’m afraid I’m too tired to think about it now. Can we put this conversation off until later?”
“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
They’d come to their apartment, and Therese turned to look at her husband. “I thank you, Karl. I mean it truly. There can’t be many men as kind as you.”
He unlocked the door, leaned over, and gave her a kiss. “My pleasure!”
“Tell them we’re coming.”
“What’s that?” he asked, letting Therese lead them into the apartment.
“Your family,” she explained. “Please tell them that we’ll come for Christmas.”
“Thank you,” he responded, happy to have escaped Christmas at the Loisings’ villa.
Therese worked the next few weeks until she was near collapse. Her café was now keeping pace with the great cafés of Vienna thanks to the expansion. She had kept her style, but in the new section, all the tables and chairs matched, presenting a uniform appearance—unlike the original space next door. And she noticed something peculiar: most customers preferred the old section. The new area only filled up when all other seats were taken.
Therese observed this for a while and then had Frieda help her change everything so that in both areas there was a merry hodgepodge of furniture. The consequences were immediate: the customers used both rooms equally. Therese laughed to herself because what was originally a stopgap solution coming from a lack of money was now her signature style, and a brilliant success. She discovered that it didn’t matter about being the best; it just had to be something that felt comfortable. Her customers were perfectly in tune with her own way of thinking.
But she hadn’t found time to talk with Karl about the issue he’d raised: What would happen if she became pregnant? Her workload pushed that thought into the distant future. She was happy with the way things were. She got along with Karl better than ever, her staff was made up of devoted people, and she had hired two new waitresses and another person in the kitchen. In spite of the increase in expenses, there was enough money in the till at the end of the day for her, with her modest demands, to lead a carefree life. Everything was exactly as she’d always wanted it.
But she’d noticed a change in herself the last couple of days, which brought the subject of children into focus. She’d felt nauseous in the mornings and more tired than usual during the day. Aside from that, she sometimes felt a strange pull in her stomach. Might she actually be pregnant, or was it something else? A visit to the doctor brought certainty: she was pregnant.
Her first impulse after seeing the doctor was to go back to work at the café, but she decided against it. Frieda could teach the new waitresses what to do and ensure that everything ran smoothly. So she took some time to walk along the Danube. She wanted to clear her mind and think about what the baby would mean for her life. Two or three months ago, it would have been the most wonderful news she could have imagined. But now she had doubts. Would she be a good mother? Could she really manage the café and still raise children? She couldn’t come up with any good answers to these questions.
She waited for Karl at home that evening, sitting comfortably on the sofa when he came in.
“There you are,” Karl said as he came in. “I dropped by the café, but Frieda said you’d gone home early. Are you all right?”
“Come in and sit down,” she replied. “Yes, everything’s fine.”
He took off his coat and hung it up before sitting down on the edge of the sofa beside her. “So what happened?”
“Nothing. Well no, that’s not exactly right. There’s something I have to tell you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Karl. We’re having a baby.” She gave him a big smile.
“What?” Karl needed a second or two to understand what she’d said. His eyes sparkled. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes, Karl. I’m pregnant.”
He leaned forward, pulled her toward him, and held her in his arms. “You’re having a baby!” He laughed loudly, looked at her, and drew her to him once more. “We’re having a baby, Therese, a baby!”
“Yes, Karl. We’re going to be parents.”
He sat up again and looked at her searchingly. “Tell me, are you happy?”
“But of course I’m happy. I . . .” She searched for the right words. “Oh, Karl, I’m afraid.” She leaned on his chest, his arms around her. “I don’t know why. I’ve been hoping all this time. But now it’s finally happened, I feel this terrible anxiety.”
“Oh, Therese, that’s completely normal.” He stroked her back tenderly. “It only shows how seriously you take your responsibility. Don’t worry! We can do it.”
Therese couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. “Really?”
He held her tightly. “Really!”
“What about the café?”
Karl waited a moment. It was clear what his wife was afraid of. Could he blame her? She’d built it up all by herself. To put it in someone else’s hands would be a terrible loss for her. And even though it wasn’t how he’d been raised to think of an upper-middle-class family, he found he wasn’t bothered. “We’ll find a way for you to keep running the café and still take care of our baby.”
“Promise me?”
“Yes,” Karl affirmed, “I promise.”
Maybe that would in some way make up for the wrong he had done her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cameroon, November 1889
The first few days her father was away were hard for Luise. She missed him more than she’d anticipated: at breakfast and at work, but especially in the evening when they would discuss the day’s events. Hamza spent as much time with her as he could. They still went to the tree together every morning and often talked until it was time to get to work.
Luise had instructed the workers to store the sacks of beans in the large shed until she’d received word from her father to resume the shipments. She was worried about the course of recent events. The plantation was running well and making a good profit, which was so crucial to the business. But if Vera was telling the truth, would her father refuse to work with Georg ever again? What would happen to the business, and what would Uncle Karl do? Her grandfather came to mind. Would any of this have happened if he were still alive? Luise didn’t think so. He’d been a real head of the family. There’s no way he would have permitted such goings-on. But everything was off kilter since he’d died.
Luise noticed she hadn’t even asked herself whether her mother was capable of adultery. The answer was clear, and not very flattering for the woman who’d raised her. Luise had searched deep within herself to find out what her mother meant to her and her life, and she felt it all depended on the news her father would bring home. Home. Yes, Hamburg was not her home; she used the word for Cameroon. And she ardently hoped her parents’ conflict wouldn’t have repercussions for her future in the colony.
The sun was up, and Luise and Hamza were sitting on the tree trunk, holding hands.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Luise asked.
Hamza deliberated. “I wonder why your father did not take you to Hamburg.” He looked at her and paused. “Do you want to tell me? You don’t have to.”
She thought for a minut
e because she was sure her father wouldn’t approve of her sharing confidential family matters.
“Oh, I’d like to tell you, but I don’t want to go against my father’s wishes, and I don’t think he’d like it.”
“I understand. I won’t ask again.”
“Thank you, Hamza.”
“Do you think about going back to Hamburg?”
“No, never. I will stay here as long as I live.”
She looked over at Mount Cameroon, surrounded by dark clouds while the sky brightened to rose pink.
“What happens when the time comes for you to choose a husband?”
“What happens when the time comes for you to choose a wife?”
“That’s already decided. I am to marry Jala.”
“What?” Luise leaped up. “You tell me that by the way? You want to get married?”
“No, I don’t want to. But I can’t go against the chief’s decision.”
“When?”
“No date yet. And Jala likes me as little as I like her.”
“Then you surely cannot get married.”
“It is an obligation, as you say in your language. But I’ll think of something.” He looked at Mount Cameroon as he pondered some more. “Many people believe that our ancestors answer our prayers and help our wishes come true if we ask them enough.”
“And what do you ask for?”
“I ask for moments like this one. I ask that nobody in our village gets the fever. I ask that . . .” He broke off.
“What?”
“I ask that I can choose you, and you me.”
Luise lowered her eyes. “Yes, I wish for that, too.”
“The chief says sango comes and harvest the fruits. And then go to another country and harvest there. This is not their home.”
“It is mine, Hamza.”
“Yes, you are different.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “What happens with your people when someone has chosen?”
“Do you mean a spouse?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I think it’s like now. They hold hands.”
“And then?”
“Then they kiss.” Luise gulped, staring into Hamza’s eyes.
He unhesitatingly leaned forward and gave her a tender, brief kiss on her mouth. “And then?”
“Then they embrace.”
Hamza put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward him. She nestled against him and closed her eyes. They stayed for a while until they had to go back to the house, before Malambuku or anyone else came to begin their work for the day.
The days went by in their usual rhythm. Three weeks had passed since her father left; he’d arrive in Hamburg before long. Luise could only imagine how he must feel and the thoughts ranging through his mind. Had he figured out a plan to confront Georg and Elisabeth with what he knew? What would he do? Luise didn’t know, couldn’t even guess. She could do nothing more than work her hardest every day and show her father on his return that he could rely on her. At the very least she didn’t want to disappoint him.
Hamburg, November 23, 1889
He pulled his hat down over his face after the ship had moored and he’d disembarked. Robert didn’t want to be recognized; though he’d been away for a long time, he wasn’t entirely unknown in the city. It wasn’t yet noon. Children were still in school, and Georg was doubtless in his office, assuming he wasn’t taking his pleasure with Robert’s wife. Robert decided to go by the office and hope he wouldn’t be seen. He hated all this secrecy. He’d have preferred to burst into the office and confront his brother with Vera’s accusations. But he wanted to make sure first. He intended to catch Georg and Elisabeth in flagrante delicto and leave no room for doubt.
A boy ran past and grazed his pant leg. “Sorry,” the boy shouted, and scampered on. Robert went around the corner and caught sight of him disappearing into the Hansen office. Surprised, he stopped and waited to see what would happen. Shortly afterward the boy emerged with Georg in tow. Robert pressed himself against the wall to avoid being seen. He was alarmed to see they were coming straight for him. He pulled his hat down at once and quickly crossed the street, walking away from the office. Georg didn’t see him, though he passed only fifteen feet away. Robert looked around cautiously. Georg kept rushing on. Where was he off to in such a hurry?
Robert followed him and soon figured it out. The boy had presumably informed him that a ship from Cameroon had arrived. Georg was waiting for the next shipment because it was already two weeks overdue. Robert felt schadenfreude rising in him when he saw that he was right. Georg spoke to a few sailors after they disembarked. One shook his head, which made Georg wave his hands about wildly. The sailors just left him there and went off on their shore leave.
“Yes, brother mine, a shock, isn’t it? Why didn’t I send the beans?” he murmured softly to himself.
Georg hesitated uncertainly, turned and looked at the ship again, and then went back the way he’d come. Robert refrained from following him. He waited a few minutes before finding a carriage and had himself dropped off near the villa. He walked through the park where they’d played as children; he knew it like the back of his hand. Was the old shed still standing? He didn’t want to arrive at the villa before nightfall; Georg and Elisabeth must think they were absolutely safe.
Robert was relieved to reach the shed and find the roof in more or less good repair. He wasn’t properly dressed for the cold, not to mention the fact that his body had adjusted to the climate in Cameroon, and he was freezing terribly. It wasn’t long before his teeth started chattering. He yearned for the warmth and comfort of the villa, where there was sure to be a fire in the fireplace. He flipped up his collar and rubbed his arms. It wasn’t even two o’clock. He’d have to wait seven or eight hours in order not to jeopardize his plan. Damn it! He paced back and forth and jumped up and down several times to warm up. Finally he sat down and huddled up against the wall. His anger was fueled by the cold.
“I’m beginning to worry.” Georg was at dinner with Elisabeth, Martha, and Frederike. “I should have received a new shipment from Robert weeks ago, but there was nothing for us on the ship that came from Cameroon today.”
“Did he write?”
“No, that, too. There was no letter for me.”
“That is peculiar,” Elisabeth said. “But it is harvest time in Cameroon.”
“It is. We can only hope that the plantation hasn’t been damaged by another fire or that something else has happened.”
“Have any ships gone missing?” Elisabeth looked at Georg, worried.
“I thought of that, too, so I made inquiries. Every one of the ships has come into port.”
“Do you think something might have happened to Father and Luise?” Martha asked uneasily.
Georg shook his head. “No, we’d have heard about it from the German envoy in Cameroon if something had happened. No, you mustn’t worry.”
“What will you do now?” Elisabeth asked.
“I will write him. It’s hard because Cameroon isn’t developed yet. If they only had a telegraph station there! Then we’d have news in a few days. But right now a letter takes almost a month.”
“It will come in good time, you shall see. Even for us Germans it’s not easy to civilize an entire country.”
“Have you any news from Mother?” Frederike asked, hoping not to be reprimanded for asking.
“She is well and gaining a little strength every day.” Elisabeth smiled at Frederike. “Good of you to think of her.”
Frederike gave a faint smile and went back to her meal.
After they’d finished, Frederike and Martha went to their rooms, Georg to his study, and Elisabeth to the parlor. The girls soon wished everybody good night and went to bed.
Georg was still in his study, going through his papers, when Elisabeth came in and stood behind him. He leaned his head against her breast, relishing the way she massaged his shoulders.
“You’re more worried than you want to
admit, aren’t you?” Elisabeth asked after a while.
“It’s distressing. After all, I’ve made promises and rely on those shipments to keep them. The amounts Karl alone needs . . .”
“Anything I can do?”
“No, unless you find a way to get a telegraph station into Cameroon.”
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “How long will your supplies last?”
“I can’t say. Depends on a lot of factors.”
She massaged the back of his neck. “You won’t be able to do anything more tonight. But you’re badly in need of some relaxation.”
“Go upstairs. I’ll have a quick look to see if the girls are asleep. Then I’ll come to you.”
“No” was Elisabeth’s answer. “I will wait in your bedroom. I think my place is there now that Vera’s not here.”
Georg wavered. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Elisabeth completely taking his wife’s place. After all, she would be coming back some day.
“As you wish,” he nonetheless relented.
Elisabeth kissed him and removed her hands, sensing she’d won another victory.
Georg went to Frederike’s room, then to Martha’s to make sure they both were asleep and would not wake. Then he went to his bedroom, where Elisabeth was waiting for him in bed.
She smiled at him and pulled the covers down on his side. “Come here.”
Georg undressed, but he didn’t experience the pleasurable anticipation he usually felt when his sister-in-law beckoned him that way. There was too much on his mind, but he didn’t tell her that. He didn’t want to provoke an argument and add another thing to his worries.
Robert had watched the lights as they went off and on and noted in which rooms. Now the house was in complete darkness. He hurried across the lawn to the front entrance and reached under the third flowerpot, where there was always a key. Nothing had changed since his childhood in that respect. Robert unlocked the door.
He entered the house silently and was greeted by a virtually intoxicating warmth. It hadn’t been raining, but the evening mist had made a damp film over his clothes, which felt clammy and cold, as did his skin. He was tempted to go to the parlor and warm up a little, but he was too anxious to see what might be awaiting him in his bedroom.
