Читать книгу The Draughtsman - Robert Lautner, Robert Lautner - Страница 16

I rapped on Klein’s office door. The polite two-tone tap. A congenial pat-pat.

He called me in, sat behind his desk with pen and journal.

‘Good morning, Ernst. You have my notes?’

‘Yes, sir.’ I put the pad to his desk. Eight-thirty and I was already in my white-coat. I think he approved.

‘Sander will bring to your floor some plans for today. I will be chained to my desk, on administration for my labours. Prüfer is back from Auschwitz so we must all jump.’

‘It will be good to see Herr Prüfer again. If I get the chance, sir.’

‘I doubt it.’ He closed his pen. ‘He is in such a mood when he returns.’ He saw that I was waiting. ‘Is there anything else, Ernst?’

I brought out the pin.

‘I return this, sir.’ I placed it on his journal. ‘But I may have created a problem.’

The pin was gone, to his hand, to a drawer.

‘Explain.’

‘Captain Schwarz asked me when I had joined the Party. I did not want to lie … but I fear I have. I did not want to cause you any difficulty.’

‘Ah. I see. No. It is my fault. I did not think on it. A natural question. But it is fine that you concerned yourself, Ernst. About me. But do not worry. I have been a Party member since ’38. Schwarz knows this.’

‘But I thought … You said you were not a member? The pin just for impression?’

He went back into his chair.

‘No. I said I was not political. The badge is useful. Being in the Party is useful. I thought it would help you to wear it.’

‘But I have lied to him?’

‘I appreciate your concern. But do not think, Ernst, that SS captains spend their days trawling over paperwork checking up on junior members of staff of a factory. I should hope he is far too busy. As am I.’ He opened his pen.

‘I thought to let you know. He did ask. And I did lie. To an SS officer.’

‘I thank you for that. Your motives were for me and the company. Very good, Ernst. I am sorry you were inconvenienced. Please forgive me. I acted in your interest.’

‘I will not get into trouble?’ I changed my angle on that. ‘I would not wish to embarrass the company.’

‘No. You are right to tell me. If Schwarz should call I can explain.’

Call. If Schwarz should call.

‘I told him that I only joined at my wife’s insistence. That I was not active.’

‘So you are being too concerned. Get to your desk, Ernst. Do not worry. I can control my own department. Thank you for your help yesterday.’ His pen to his journal.

I bowed and left. Sweat in my palms.

*

Yesterday, explaining the badge to Etta, had not gone well. I tried to pass it off. As nothing. A small thing.

‘Herr Klein gave it to me.’ I plucked the pin from my jacket, pocketed it. ‘To make a good impression in the camp. For appearances sake. It is nothing.’ I moved away from the window.

‘It is something. You wore that in the street?’

‘No. I came from the car and straight in.’

‘Car?’

I needed a cigarette. The papers and tobacco pause enough.

‘Herr Klein gave me a lift. He was going to the Anger. For shopping.’ Only half a lie.

Etta enraged as she lit the hob for the kettle.

‘He should have taken back his badge.’

‘I’ll give it to him tomorrow.’ I switched on the light. ‘Do we have money for the meter?’

‘Don’t do that. Don’t change the subject. If you want to join the Party to get on that is up to you.’

‘What difference does it make? A party is a party.’ I lit my cigarette, resumed my position by the window. To deposit my ash. To watch the street. As usual. Trying not to look up and down the road. ‘It does not mean anything any more.’

‘It means you are old-fashioned. That you belong in lederhosen. That you are an old man shouting at the dark. I am sure your father would approve.’

I left the window. ‘Would it change your opinion of me?’

She pulled cups and tea from the cupboard. Her face away from me. ‘It is your choice. If you want.’

Not the words she wanted to say. Not in their tone.

‘I didn’t think we were political,’ I said. The same tone.

‘Our country is at war, Ernst. Everyone is political. Even this damned tea has a swastika on the box. Why should my husband wear it less? Who am I to object?’ Slammed the tea back to the cupboard. ‘Now. Do you want to tell me about the camp?’

I waited for the whistling kettle. It would be easier to talk on my day over tea.