Читать книгу The Crooked Olive Branch - Frederick Munn - Страница 16

Chapter 8

Peter was the first to wake. Confused, he struggled to establish some understanding of where he was.

Thirsty, he sat up and looked around the room. A coffee mug stood on an oak side-cupboard, untouched. He took a sip and pulled a face.

Responding to the ‘call of nature,’ he staggered out of bed looking for a bathroom.

There were several doors serving a large, elegant room. Tall, beautifully draped windows let in streams of daylight on to a polished wooden floor and scattered Persian rugs.

Hal was fast asleep, fully dressed on the bed alongside. One of his shoes had fallen off and was lying upside down mirroring his sleeping position.

Their luggage had been placed neatly just inside a door. Peter’s trousers and shirt were lying on the floor beside the bed. For the life of him, he could not remember undressing.

To his right one door stood slightly ajar. Sunlight streamed across the room picking out the colours in the rugs.

Peter pushed the door open to reveal a large bathroom furnished from another era.

It was like walking back into another world.

Over to the right a flowered wash basin beckoned. Peter emptied the contents of the coffee mug rinsed it and refilled with cold water from one of the gold taps, then drained it.

His head began to clear and the events of yesterday hit him like the seventh wave on a shingle beach. The import of yesterday’s dramas, crowded out by confusion and fatigue, flooded back.

He looked around the room which would not have been out of place in the 19th century.

A flowered enamel ‘sit-up and beg’ hip bath, sited alongside the window wall, set the mood.

A matching wash hand basin and W.C. completed the picture.

Peter sat on the toilet taking in the scene. Broad polished wooden floorboards complete with Persian rugs and three-metre tall draped windows framed a picture of sartorial elegance.

Peter bent forward and rubbed his palms on the smooth wooden floor hollowed by polishing and the passage of many feet down the years. He was calmed by the thought of so many ghosts.

The early morning autumn sun streamed through the window catching dust particles dancing and sparkling in the light from an open window accompanied by the hum of dawn, the sound of a river, birdsong and a distant barking dog.

There being no way he could control events in this warm, friendly feeling house, he decided to let the next chapter unfold.

The smell of coffee drifted in on the breeze.

Back in the bedroom Hal was still asleep.

The contrast between the fury of last night and now was stark.

Peter now had to think how to explain yesterdays’ drama and the loss of the Oktoberfest.

A victim himself, he still felt responsible.

He dressed and quietly left the room finding his way out on to a landing. Stairs, broad and elegant, led down into a large sitting room.

The furnishing at the far end of a large room covered by dust sheets suggested that the owners had either just arrived or were leaving. The near furniture being uncovered.

Tall windows faced the garden lawns stretching down to a river. In the centre French doors opened out on to a terrace.

Hearing sounds of activity over to his right he called out. “Hello.”

The old woman who met them last night, appeared from the kitchen doorway and beckoned him through into a bright and cheerful breakfast room. On a large sideboard there was an array of cheeses, meats, breads, fruit and cakes.

Peter could not remember passing through this room in the early hours. Once more he had the feeling of being in the middle of a time slip.

The events of yesterday, a distant bad dream.

Some while later Hal joined him on the terrace, having breakfasted on veal, eggs and coffee.

“Hey Pete, is this place for real? What gives? Have we been transported into the nobility?”

He stretched and yawned. “Woke up starving, smelled the coffee couldn’t wait. Didn’t even shave. You been up long?”

Peter had been wondering how Hal would react to this massive change of scene and the loss of the planned holiday.

“Good morning, Hal. I haven’t shaved either. I thought we could unpack later when we know how long we are here.” He answered holding his breath, still unsure how to deal with the loss of the Fest. It was clear there was little chance of returning to Munich.

He need not have worried. His friend stretched and yawned.

“Strange not knowing. What about this place? Whose is this and why here? I hope we stay a while. Suits me. This house it’s super and the cuisine is fantastic. A week or two of this will just do me fine.”

Peter smiled. His friend’s good humour had returned. Clearly, Hal was coming to terms with this strange situation. He felt the same.

There was a tranquillity, an air about this place.

Peter, used to being disappointed, was still aware that the real world with all its problems still existed. He added a word of caution.

“I don’t wish to upset you Hal, but we could be away by lunchtime.”

“I hope not, put in some central heating, I could put down roots and keep the staff, especially in the kitchen.”

Peter didn’t answer, he was still wondering what the day could possibly have in store.

Hal took a swig of coffee leaned back on the seat and sighed.

“This is great I can’t wait to explore. Everything is so well cared for. It must take a huge staff but where are they and how do we fit in and why in this big place? Hey Pete, with God knows how many bedrooms, why did they fit us both into one?’

Peter deep in thought, didn’t answer.

“Pete, you still there?”

Peter was startled to reply, “I haven’t really thought about it. You are right, we appear the only ones here, also all that food at breakfast. Where are the owners and Eva? Did she stay the night?”

“No guesses Pete, and as for Eva no clues. Last night I just died.”

“I didn’t even undress at first.”

“Me not at all, slept just as I was.”

Peter stood up. “I ought to shave, change and unpack. Come to think of it, do we unpack?”

“Go shave and change? Who for? I’m for bumming it. Forget it Pete, let’s go and explore.”

The slow pace of life suited them. Peter hoped that they stayed, if only for a day or so. The sun shone from a cloudless sky and as it rose higher the day became very warm.

Hal headed for the riverbank where it was cooler and sat on the bank, his feet dangling over the water. “Sorry about yesterday Pete.”

“Hal, you’re sorry! I’m so sorry. I still can’t come to terms with what happened to Dieter and what happened yesterday. What about the Fest? We didn’t even have a chance to settle.”

Peter sat down alongside his friend in silence.

There were so many unanswered questions, so much to think about.

Eventually Hal broke the silence.

“Forget the Fest, from what bit I saw of it, there was an undertow of evil. Maybe it was all the armed police. Then there was that band and marching Brownshirts. It was more a demonstration, not a celebration.”

Peter just nodded agreement, still wondering what was to happen and how long they would be there.

“What a louse I was Pete. So sorry. I was feeling rotten. Ratting on you, not to mention your father.” Peter didn’t answer so Hal continued.

“I just could not bring myself to tell you. Think how to tell you.”

Peter still didn’t answer. Hal added. “I just couldn’t turn down the offer, sorry.”

Peter, still deep in thought, answered. “If you apologise just once more, I will push you in the river. Yesterday has gone now we need to decide what next? What we do now? Where do we go from here?”

Hal shrugged. “Just sit tight I guess.” He lay back on the bank and sighed. “Suits me.”

He was happy at last to have gotten his worries off his conscience and that normal relations with Peter had resumed.

Later that morning clouds gathered across the distant hills. Sheet and fork lightning flickered and cracked vividly against a darkening sky.

“Reckon we should get back to the house Pete. That storm could travel. Anyways it must be lunch time.”

They strolled back to the house. The buildings, along with the trees and statues lost definition in the heat shimmer. They did not see a slight figure sitting in the shadows on the large seat encircling a tree in the middle of the lawn. As they approached, they were greeted by a lady with an Australian accent. “Nice to see you again Peter and to meet your friend. Oh! and so sorry about all the hoo-hah yesterday.”

Peter started to run forward. “Lulu, is that you?”

“Who else, you tiny Limey.”

“I thought you and Rolf were going to Australia after the Games.” Peter hugged her.

He was relieved to see a familiar face.

“That was the line, Peter. We needed to disappear off the map and you don’t need a nudge as to why.”

Dieter, Peter, Rolf and Lulu were old friends from back in Berlin. Their last meeting was in the summer of 1936 at the time of the Games. Peter introduced Lulu to Hal.

“Hal, this is Lulu my old friend known to all as Peach Melbourne. Lulu, this is my friend Henry from university, known to all as Hal.”

“Hi Hal, great to meet you.”

Rolf Neuberger had married Louisa in 1935 and planned to emigrate to Australia but had difficulties in obtaining clearance. After the incident in Berlin on the lake they returned to Austria, his birthplace officially to await events. Subsequently they announced that they were at last on their way to the Antipodes. This was Peter’s understanding. The truth was clearly somewhere else.

“Peter, Hal, there’s something you need to know. Rolf and I have had a change of identity.

Rolf and I are now known as Johannes and Gerda Weismann.”

“You’ve changed names. Why?”

“You didn’t imagine that we would cop out with our tails between our legs, did you? And you don’t need that university degree to figure why. So, you’d best be knowing that you are dealing with thieves and forgers.”

Peter hugged her again. “Pleased to meet you Gerda Weisman and my best to Johannes.”

Hal was still working out what was happening.

“O.K. let’s be knowing what that hoo-hah yesterday was all about …”

“I’m here because we need your help, please.”

Gerda addressed them both but the ‘please’ was directed at Hal.

“What help is this and who are we?” Hal’s question was tinged with caution.

“We,” Gerda answered, “are a group who are assisting Jewish people who wish to leave the country. Escape the Nazis, especially the kids.”

Hal thought for a moment. “Correct me if I am wrong. This is Austria we are speaking of, not Germany?”

“Both, Hal,” Gerda answered. “That might have been a valid question once. No longer true, I am afraid. The oppression has moved south. It is violently active. The imperative is that we provide an urgent escape route for all who wish to leave.”

“Why? Can’t they just leave and cross the border, just normally?”

Gerda shook her head. “You don’t understand. Not many do outside of the country.”

“They are prevented from leaving?” Hal shocked, started taking notes. Determined to report all.

“Not only prevented but forcibly returned. This depending on who is on border guard. Some get through of course but more and more are being blocked, returned. It is why we are asking for your help.”

Peter, who had been quietly listening, asked “Are you saying that Austria is no longer independent?”

“Officially yes, but the Nazis are gaining more and more support. The police and border guards seem to do whatever they please. Furthermore, the Anschluss could take place any day now.

It is gaining support everywhere.”

Peter, aware of his responsibilities to Hal, persisted. “And the hoo-hah as you call it, yesterday?

Why were we shipped unceremoniously across the border and not bedded down in Munich?”

Hal repeated this question, the foremost in their minds.

“Yes, the hoo-hah as you called it, you still haven’t explained. Don’t you think we are due one?” Noticeably, Hal was not angry.

Gerda sat back down on the tree seat.

“You fellas best join me. This could take some time.”

“Time, we have. If we are to help, we need to know everything.”

“Everything is a big ask but I will do my best. You deserve an explanation for all that took place yesterday.” Gerda folded her arms defensively across her chest.

Hal, then Peter took their places alongside her as she requested.

“You have no idea how sorry we are to have taken liberties,” she sighed, “but needs must when the devil drives and the devil is truly driving events in Austria as well as Germany. We needed to arrange the evacuation of the Kessler family. Dieter arranged for you to lodge with them. This could have given them some protection by your presence. Also give us some time to arrange papers to transport them across into Switzerland. The Gestapo maybe knew of our plans. They arrested them three days before you were due to arrive.”

“Yes! We have heard about that. Did our late arrival cause problems?”

“I would think not.”

“Afterwards, they arrested Dieter. Why?” Peter still hoped something could be done about his friend.

“Not then, two days later, the day before you arrived.”

Hal took over the questioning “The reason for these arrests being?”

“For the Kessler’s they have given a reason. Often they arrest prominent Jews without any explanation.”

“And the reason was?” Hal was determined to get all the detail even though he was aware his editor may not accept his copy.

“They were arrested and charged with subversive activity against the Third Reich.”

“That is both Dr Kessler and his wife?”

“Yes. They intended to arrest the whole family, Dr Kessler, Frau Kessler and Miriam their three-year-old daughter.”

Hal looked up from his note pad. “That’s what Eva said. You’re sure, a three-year-old kid?”

“It is their intent to take the complete family.” Gerda looked to Hal making notes being aware of the need to spread this knowledge, particularly to the United States.

“Frau Kessler foiled the police by passing Miriam over the fence to her neighbour Helga while Dr Kessler was opening the front door. Helga and Dieter brought her across to us and we have her safe. When Dieter returned to meet you, he was arrested for aiding and abetting enemies of the state.”

Peter interrupted. “It explains why Dieter wasn’t there to meet us, not why we were shipped over the border?”

Hal was absorbed with getting the complete story. Partly he was excited to have stumbled upon what he deemed to be a major story; a perfect feature for his first submission yet horrified at what he was hearing.

“Helga asked us to watch out for you and to take you to the Fairy Grotto Bar for them to find you accommodation but on the way, we learned that you Hal, held a press card.”

Peter and Hal looked at each other.

“The taxi driver, it figures.” said Hal.

Peter nodded. “Why does Hal’s press card make a difference?”

“We have a party of thirty or so children and five adults, including Helga and Miriam, awaiting their chance to cross over to Switzerland. As things stand, they may well be turned back at the border. The cover story is a day trip to Zurich from school. The Nazis however are wise to this and unless we meet unbiased border control, they are almost sure to be stopped. The presence of the American press may just make the difference. Observed by you they could be persuaded to allow them through. Miriam Kessler is too young to pass as a schoolgirl and we are sure that the border guards will be ordered to lookout for a three-year- old girl.”

“So, you abducted us?” Peter still angry at events, called it as it was.

“Sorry Peter, Hal we had no time to plan. We had to make it up ‘on the hoof,’ as you say.”

“And this house just happened to be available?”

“The house is the summer residence of a prominent financier. It is about to be closed for the winter.

He is presently in America on important business. His family are at another of their homes in Switzerland. It is possible they will not return.”

“You have permission to use the house?”

Gerda nodded. “Until the end of the month.”

“What will happen to the house?” asked Hal, “if they don’t return?”

“They will try to sell it. If they are lucky, they might get a third of its true price.”

“And if they are not?”

“After an Anschluss, the Nazis will just take it, just as they took the Kesslers.”

“They do that?”

“They are already doing so in Germany and not just the house, contents, valuables, jewellery anything; it’s theft, plain and simple, under the guise of authority.”

Hal thought for a moment.

“So, you want us to turn up at the border the same time as your refugees?”

“If you will.”

Hal looked to Peter. “I’m with you. Pete, what about you?”

Peter hesitated before nodding and saying. “Of course.”

Gerda looked at her watch. “Lunch is ready I believe. I must be on my way.”

She got up to go then sat down again. “There is another favour if you would oblige us further.”

Hal was so pumped up and involved with the situation he was more than anxious to hear.

“What else can we do?”

“The little Kessler girl is distressed and hysterical. What she might do if she just sees any uniformed men at the border is anyone’s guess. She could scupper the whole project. What is more she is only three and cannot possibly pass for a schoolgirl.”

“That figures but what can we do?”

“When Frau Kessler handed Miriam over to Helga she said don’t worry, my darling, Papa Yo will take care of you. I am leaving you in the safe hands of Papa Yo. Now Miriam is blaming Helga and us for not finding this Papa Yo. If we could separate her from the main party, it would be a big help.

We are already keeping her away from the others. They are distressed enough already.”

Gerda looked to Hal who spread his hands in question. “So?”

“If you were to take Miriam across the border with you, say as your niece, would that work?”

Hal again thought then turned to Peter. “What do you think Pete?”

“Sounds as though it could work but we need to think this out.”

“I pose as the girl’s uncle taking her over to the States, is that what you mean?”

Hal ignored Peter’s advice.

“That’s about it, Hal,” replied Gerda concentrating on Hal.

“What say if I pose as this Papa guy? The little girl would be then more settled.”

“As Papa Yo? That, Hal is brilliant, would you?”

“Figure that would cover all bases.”

Peter meanwhile abandoned his attempts to persuade his friend to take time out to think.

Gerda jumped up and embraced both men.

“Thanks fellas, you have no idea just what this means. I must be away, there’s much to be arranged.” Blowing each a kiss, she disappeared into the house through the kitchen out into the yard and into a dark red saloon.

“Let’s away, Eva. Game on. Tell Ilsa, tonight, that for this operation only my name is Gerda Weismann.”

“Was that wise?”

“Had to. The Englishman knows me from Berlin.”

The driver started the engine and sped away. “Papa Yo? Everything?”

“Everything” Gerda replied leaning back and sighing.