Читать книгу Beyond the Storm - Diana Finley - Страница 12

The marriage of Julia Kassel and Rudolf Wiener took place in Vienna in September 1895.

It was a grand affair; Rudolf’s mother Paulina considered that nothing less would be appropriate for her only son. She regarded her prospective daughter-in-law as pleasingly compliant, but a trifle ordinary. Rudolf could surely have chosen a bride from one of Vienna’s many wealthier families. He had, after all, attracted the attention of Count Bessendorf’s beautiful youngest daughter Adele in the past, as well showing interest in Mitzi von Kahldorf, whose father had accumulated fabulous riches through international dealing in gold and diamonds.

The Kassel family was decent enough it was true – Julia’s father an esteemed lawyer – but nevertheless, Paulina couldn’t help feeling a lingering sense of disappointment. She was concerned that in their reduced circumstances after the untimely death of Rudolf’s father, her son needed to take advantage of the best opportunities and connections available. It was hardly a time to marry for love! How helpful a clever businessman like Herr von Kahldorf could have been to a son-in-law’s career.

But Rudolf, who had himself trained as a lawyer, wanted nothing more than to join Jakob Kassel’s practice. He had no sense that this might have been beneath his capabilities. He even talked of wanting to represent the legal needs of the poor. Paulina realised it was time to have a serious talk with her son.

‘Rudolf, you are a young man with strong principles, and of course that is very admirable. But a social conscience is a luxury you really cannot afford, my darling. No, I wish you would think more of ambition, of what you can achieve – especially with a little help.’

Rudolf, always closely attuned to his mother’s feelings, was aware of her lack of enthusiasm for his marriage to Julia and it saddened him. He hoped in time she would discover Julia’s virtues – that she was sensitive and gentle, thoughtful and clever. He would not be talked out of his marriage plans.

The newly-weds settled into a fine, spacious apartment in the centre of Vienna, only five minutes’ walk from Paulina’s home. Of course, it was not a distance Paulina ever considered walking herself: there were carriages for that. The tall windows of their apartment looked out over the green expanse of the Stadtpark, where Rudolf and Julia often strolled on fine Sundays.

Rudolf worried that his mother would be lonely following their marriage, but Julia was adamant about the importance of living independently. She understood Rudolf’s concern – as the only son – for his mother’s welfare, but she also knew that her mother-in-law was a forceful personality, who could quite easily dominate their lives. She visited Paulina regularly for coffee, and Paulina came for dinner with the young couple twice a week. Rudolf was pleased to observe a growing friendship between the two women.

Paulina prided herself on her good taste. She enjoyed discussing her ideas for colour schemes and soft furnishings for the apartment with Julia. Julia, who was secretly indifferent to her domestic environment, preferring to read or play the piano, was happy to allow Paulina a free hand with such decisions. Sometimes Paulina asked Julia to accompany her to one or other of her friends’ homes. Sometimes, on warm days, they went for a carriage ride in the Ring Boulevard. Paulina encouraged her daughter-in-law to wear the outfits she had chosen for her on these expeditions. After all, one never knew who one might encounter.

Occasionally Julia invited her own mother and Paulina to come to tea together. Julia was irritated by Paulina’s magnanimous and kindly manner towards her mother, as if generously bestowing attention upon an inferior, but she bit her tongue and made no comment. While Julia’s mother dressed with careful effort and some anxiety for these occasions, Paulina’s entire wardrobe was flawlessly fashionable and sophisticated.

‘My dear Frau Kassel, how pretty you look in your flowered muslin. Like a breath of fresh country air!’

Paulina’s tall, imposing figure moved from room to room, silk petticoats rustling like a soft breeze playing among the leaves in the trees. She glided so gracefully her feet appeared to be raised just a fraction above the floor by some unseen force. Julia’s father Jakob nicknamed her ‘The Countess’. It was a name of which Paulina would have approved.

Rudolf and Julia’s marriage was one of fondness and companionship rather than great passion. This appeared to suit both of them. Rudolf progressed steadily in his career and gained a reputation for competence and reliability. Julia had time and freedom to pursue her own interests of painting and music. Together they enjoyed the theatre and concerts, and yearly holidays at the Baltic or in Italy, accompanied by Paulina.

The years passed and in 1910, just as they began to consider themselves on the verge of middle age, Julia discovered to everyone’s surprise and delight that she was pregnant. Her slight body grew enormous and, on a warm spring night, healthy twin boys were born. Rudolf and Julia were overjoyed. They named one baby Paul to honour his paternal grandmother, and the other Jakob after Julia’s father. Paulina was astounded to find herself a grandmother, but she entered into the role with enthusiasm. Following the birth, she moved into her son and daughter-in-law’s apartment.

‘Just while the babies are so tiny. You must concentrate on caring for them, my dear Julia. And of course, you need rest. I will run the household for you.’

Julia made occasional protests to Rudolf, but they both knew Paulina was there to stay. She ruled all domestic aspects of the home. Within weeks the cook was making outraged representations to Julia.

‘She dislikes the recipes I have used these many years, Frau Wiener. She tells me the dumplings are too heavy and that I overcook the meat. I cannot work like this.’

A new cook was engaged who understood Paulina’s requirements and agreed to her regime from the start. Paul and Jakob’s nursemaid and the housemaid knew better than to argue with her rulings.

‘Make sure the boys have their woollen hats on unless the weather is hot, in which case they must wear their cotton sun bonnets. And see to it that their ears are always tucked back. We don’t want children with bat ears.’

‘Of course, Gnädige Frau.’

The little boys grew up secure in the knowledge that all three adults in their home worshipped them, but they learned that it was their grandmother who was the real force to be reckoned with. Paulina supervised every aspect of their lives: what they should eat and at what time, when they should go to bed or take a nap, how much fresh air and exercise they needed.

Julia took great pleasure in playing with the children and reading to them. When they were four or five, she taught them to read and began to teach them the piano. Rudolf spent an hour or so playing with Paul and Jakob when he returned from work, enjoying a little lively fun, and rough and tumble. Paulina approved of this for a time – she could deny little to her beloved Rudolf, and she believed growing boys needed the more robust intervention of a father – but at six o’clock precisely she summoned the nursemaid to give the children their bath and calm them down, ready for bed.

The boys were clever and diligent. They progressed well at the small private school they attended, for which Paulina paid. Paul and Jakob were not identical but, like many twins, they were very close. Of the two, Paul seemed the more light-hearted and sociable, while Jakob was a serious, emotional child. Paul had many friends. He was always at the centre of a large group, keeping the others entertained with his clowning. Jakob had a small number of close friends to whom he was fiercely loyal. Both boys mixed freely with both Jewish and Christian children. Jakob’s best friend, Fritz Henkelmann, was from a Roman Catholic family.

In 1923, when the boys were thirteen, tragedy struck the family. Rudolf, like his father before him, had a sudden heart attack at his desk and died at the age of fifty-five. Bereavement affected Paulina and Julia differently. Distraught at the loss of her treasured only son at such a young age, Paulina determined to focus all her love and caring on her two precious grandsons. Grief galvanised her into action. Julia, on the other hand, appeared broken down, despondent, almost indifferent to anything life might still have had to offer. If she previously lacked assertiveness, she was now distinctly passive.

While Paulina became stronger, Julia grew weaker. In this way, the personalities of the two women complemented each other and paradoxically they grew closer. The first hurdle to be faced was a sudden and extreme reduction in income. Rudolf was an intelligent and resourceful lawyer, but an impractical businessman. His affairs were in a poor state. He had not ensured the financial or material security of his family. Paulina and Julia ploughed through files of bills and receipts, and boxes of accounts, all in Rudolf’s impenetrable and spidery handwriting.

‘We will have to dismiss the cook and manage the cooking ourselves,’ Paulina announced, ‘and now that we all live together here, I shall sell my own apartment.’

Julia made no comment about the fact that Paulina had already been living with the family since the boys were babies. She was happy for her mother-in-law to take command of the situation.

‘The important thing is for Jakob and Paul to continue to receive the very best education, especially in these difficult times. That must be our priority.’

Julia nodded in agreement.

As Paul and Jakob progressed through their teens, one by one their Christian friends rejected them. Fritz Henkelmann’s parents refused to receive Jakob in their home. At first, Fritz had no such reservations about calling at Jakob’s house, although he did not reveal these visits to his mother and father. Gradually though, his visits became fewer. Away from their homes, Fritz remained a loyal friend to Jakob, and the two young men continued to meet in coffee houses, and to play football or go skiing together.

* * *

Paulina and Julia continued to entertain in a modest way. Their circle of friends had shrunk, with a gradual falling away, first of the most rich and grand, and then of almost all their Christian acquaintances. They had known Artur and Matilde Feldman and their daughters for many years. Both families had been through difficult times, and Paulina admired the way in which Artur had held his business together, despite his wife’s illness. He had also shown great concern and support for the Wiener family since the death of Rudolf, who was his lawyer and friend.

Although the girls were not their social equals, Paulina considered Esther, Anna and Margaret quite charming. It was true that there was some concern about Margaret’s leaning towards radical political activities as she grew older. There was even rumour of her having joined a naturists’ club. However, Esther was strikingly attractive and Anna was pretty and sweet. The children had played together from time to time ever since they were quite small.

When Jakob left school he began a course in architecture, while his brother Paul followed their father in studying law. Jakob took his studies seriously, well aware that opportunities for higher education could be snatched away at any moment. Some of his Jewish friends talked of communism as a possible way forward. Out of interest, Jakob attended one or two meetings of the Communist Party. He noticed Margaret Feldman sitting in the hall, a couple of rows ahead, giving the speaker her rapt attention. She would have been barely fifteen. As they left the meeting, Jakob and Margaret were pushed together at the exit by the jostle of the crowd. They smiled at one another, and Jakob offered to accompany her home to Mariahilferstrasse.

* * *

The front door is opened by Margaret’s sister Anna. Anna shakes her head and gives Margaret a look of exasperation when Jakob explains how they have met. How pretty Anna is, when she raises her eyebrows to Jakob with a wry smile, her hands on her hips. She thanks him for bringing Margaret back and apologises for not inviting him in at such a late hour.

Jakob is not a radical activist, but like many young people he is searching for answers to the growing inequalities in Viennese society, and especially the erosion of the rights of Jews. Disappointed by the speakers, he soon decides communism is not a solution he wishes to pursue, and attends no further meetings. Yet Jakob’s spirits are raised by the encounter with Anna, and he looks forward to his forthcoming twenty-first birthday party, to which all three Feldman sisters will be coming.

Paul and Jakob’s party is a great success. Paulina has sold some jewellery to ensure her grandsons’ birthdays are marked in a way that befits them. It is a fine, glittering occasion. Paul dances energetically with all the prettiest girls present, and charms some of their mothers by asking them too to dance. Jakob does not allow his brother anywhere near Anna, protectively keeping her to himself. Paul accepts Jakob’s possessiveness with his usual good humour. Jakob dances only with Anna, though of course he asks his mother and his grandmother to honour him with a waltz. Paulina is buoyed by the evening. It is quite like old times.

Jakob is entranced by Anna. For two years they spend every spare minute together. Due to new rulings of the government, he has had to leave his architecture course before completing it, and Anna is working as a governess and nanny, having been unable to attend university. They have discussed the future and agreed that it will be necessary to travel abroad if they are to have the opportunities they both want. Paulina has provided a modest allowance for her grandsons to allow them some independence. Jakob loves Anna’s enthusiasm for every experience: theatres, concerts, riding, swimming, skiing. She enjoys his company and always seems delighted to see him. But Jakob worries that perhaps she does not love him with the same intensity he feels for her.

‘She is still young,’ Paulina reassures him. ‘Give her time. Anna likes all of life’s pleasures – that is clear. Make sure she has a good time with you, and don’t put too much pressure on her.’

But it is not in Jakob’s nature to concentrate on life’s pleasures alone. He wants a commitment from Anna. He visits Artur Feldman to ask his permission to marry his middle daughter. Artur grips Jakob’s arm affectionately and steers him into his study. Kaethe brings a tray of coffee. She leaves with a curtsey and a curious look at Jakob.

‘And have you asked Anna to marry you, Jakob?’

‘Well, not in so many words. I felt it best to ask you first. But I think we have both assumed we will always be together.’

Artur studies the earnest young man before him. Jakob’s face is tense. He licks his lips and blinks at Artur. His left knee jiggles a continuous nervous rhythm.

‘That is very proper. But with Anna, I suggest it is best to assume nothing. She is still young of course.’ Artur echoes Paulina’s words.

Jakob is disappointed that Anna does not immediately leap at his proposal, but instead asks for time to consider it. It takes some weeks before she tells him that yes, she would like to marry him, and they become formally engaged. Jakob is overjoyed.

* * *

Some months after this, Jakob receives a note from Fritz Henkelmann, asking to meet in a coffee house known to both of them. It is nearly a year since they have seen one another.

‘First of all, I have heard about your engagement. Many congratulations to you – you’re a lucky man, Jakob. Anna is a lovely girl.’

‘Thank you, Fritz. I am a lucky man, and I know it. The wedding may be a little while off, but I hope you will be my best man? I imagine we will have to leave Austria before much longer, with all the restrictions imposed by this poisonous government.’

Fritz scrutinises his friend silently, as the waiter brings a coffee pot and lays out their cups. He stirs his coffee thoughtfully. ‘You should go soon, very soon.’

‘Mmm. Well of course, it will take time to make all the arrangements.’

‘No, Jakob. Do not delay.’

‘Oh …?’

‘Look. We’ve been friends for many years …’

‘Yes?’

‘I like you, Jakob – you know that. I like you and Anna.’

Jakob feels a growing sense of unease. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I want you to know that I am in total support of this “poisonous government”, as you put it. I am a fully-fledged member of the National Socialist Party, and I believe absolutely in their policies.’

Jakob laughs out loud for a moment, his laughter fading as he takes in his friend’s humourless face.

‘I don’t believe it! Fritz, is this some kind of joke? Really I don’t find it very funny, not funny at all.’

‘It’s no joke. I believe the Nazis are right: with the Jews’ monopoly on large areas of trade and business, they are a major cause of the social and economic difficulties both Germany and Austria are suffering. We must eliminate the Jews in Austria and restore racial purity to our country. That is absolutely essential.’

Jakob feels sweat trickling down his spine. He shivers. ‘Racial purity! How can you talk like this? You know I am a Jew … and Anna’s family is also Jewish.’

‘Of course I know it. That is why I wanted to speak to you.’

‘You agree to the “elimination” of Jews, yet you call yourself my friend?’

‘I said we had been friends for many years. I said I like you.’

‘But our friendship is now at an end?’

‘We cannot continue to be friends as before, that is certain, but I do care what happens to you. It is because of our friendship that I want to help you – you and Anna. I would not want harm to come to either of you.’

‘This is absurd! You want all Jews driven out or … what? Beaten up? Killed? Yet you feel some sympathy for me, some loyalty to me – a Jew!’

‘That is exactly right. We must all make a distinction between what is personal and what is principle. Listen, Jakob, we could go on debating this round and round all evening, but I don’t have much time. The fact is I have come to warn you.’

‘Oh? Are you about to bring a brown-shirted mob round to beat us up?’

Fritz does not smile. He glances at his watch. ‘Believe me, this really is no joke. You must leave Vienna, leave Austria. You and Anna must get out as soon as you can.’ Fritz leans forward and lowers his voice. ‘I have seen your name on a list, Jakob. Did you really think no one watches those communist gatherings? What a stupid thing to do. Now your name is on the list, and sooner or later they will come for you – and that little fool of a sister of Anna’s.’

‘Margaret … but she’s hardly more than a child.’

‘That makes no difference. The important thing is don’t delay. I may be able to help with papers, and I have some contacts, here and abroad. Make sure you go soon – and if you care for your families, try to get them out too.’

Jakob sits for a long time after Fritz has left, trying to calm the leaping of his heart and the trembling of his hands. He will have to persuade Anna to leave her home, her family to whom she is so deeply attached, and accompany him to a new land. Will she do it? They have talked of leaving, but never as an immediate intention. It was discussed as a vague possibility, almost as a fairy tale. How would Anna react? Would she even believe his account of his conversation with Fritz? He hardly believes it himself. Jakob resolves not to speak to Anna of what Fritz has told him, not yet at least. Instead he must find other means of persuading her of the necessity of leaving.

An unexpected opportunity to achieve this presents itself before very long, an opportunity Jakob does not welcome at all.