Philippa Carr - Gossamer Cord

But that was not possible.

Poor Gretchen! She was undecided.

It would be her family who would make up her mind for her; and they did.

Kurt was overcome with gratitude; so were Helmut and the parents; and it was decided that when we left we would take her with us for a holiday.

It was our last day. We were to leave the following morning. Kurt would drive us to the station and in due course the long journey to the coast would begin. We seemed almost like different people from those who had arrived here. I felt I should never be the same again. Whenever I saw anything beautiful I should look for the canker lurking beneath.

I went to say goodbye to the grandparents of whom we had seen very little during our stay, as they kept mainly to their own rooms.

Grossvater was reading the Scriptures and smiled at me rather vaguely. I told him that I should be leaving soon and he smiled on me benignly and gave me his blessing.

Then I went to Grossmutter who was seated in her rocking chair, her knitting in her hand. She was less vague and gave me a warm smile.

“It is good of you to come,” she said. I was amazed that she could speak English; and during my stay here I had improved on my school German to some extent so that conversation was possible.

“Grossvater and I, we are the old ones. We stay here in our rooms…like two pieces of furniture which are no longer much use.”

I protested at this.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Two pieces of furniture without use but which must not be thrown away.” She laid a hand on my arm. “They tell me that Gretchen is going back with you.”

“Yes, we thought it a good idea.”

“What you saw down there…” She put her face closer to mine. “It told you much…?”

“It was a shock.”

She nodded. “You now know…”

“It was so unexpected…so pointless.”

She shook her head. “It has always been,” she said somberly. “I was told it would be different here…and it was so…for a long time. You see, I do not belong to this country. I am a Brandt only by marriage. When I was eight years old I came here from Russia.”

“So you are Russian by birth?”

She nodded. “There it was the same. They called it the pogrom. We never knew when it would happen. Then we would be up…leaving much behind…and off we went. So it is to me not new…though a long time ago.”

“This cruel persecution. It seems so senseless to me.”

“It is a hatred of our race.”

“But why?”

“Ask the Lord. Only He will know. But it has always been. My family thought that coming here would be different. But you see, it has followed us here. We come to Germany…we leave all behind. I was young. I do not remember clearly. It was a long journey. I remember we had a wheelbarrow. We brought what we could. We were so weary. We slept anywhere we could find a place. Some people were kind to us. I do not know how long it went on. When you are young you forget so much. There are gaps in the memory. One forgets what one does not want to remember.”

“Does it upset you to recall it?”

She shook her head. “It helps,” she said. “What happened then…what happens now. There is a pattern to life. That was the beginning…and now it seems I return to it at the end.”

“I am so sorry.”

“It is life. We settled in Germany. We think, this is the good country. It seemed so. Those who worked hard were rewarded. My father became a tailor. He was very good. He worked hard. We were poor for a long time…but then he has his own shop. Then he has two shops…and three. I had brothers. We all worked together. Then one day, when I was in the shop, a handsome man comes in. My father is to make a suit for him. We met and fell in love. It was the Grossvater.”

“And you were happy then?”

“Very happy. I came to the schloss. I have been here ever since. At first it was wonderful and then the war comes. Then not so good. Disaster and defeat. We were not rich any more. But we kept on at the schloss and things grew better. We are becoming prosperous again…and then…”

“This started,” I said. “But to you it was not entirely unexpected.”

She shook her head. “I was waiting for it. It has happened to others. My son thought we were too remote…not important enough. We have never made much show that we are Jewish. Someone must have told.”

I knew who that was. Else had informed her lover.

I did not mention this as the girl was still with them and I guessed it would disturb Grossmutter.

“I want you to know how happy I am that you are taking Gretchen with you. She is a dear girl…a good girl. They are pleased…my son and his wife…that the good Edward feels love for her. He will take care of her.”

“I wish we could take you all.”

She laughed. “You are a good girl. I knew that when I first saw you. Your sister…your twin, eh?…she is very attractive…but light-hearted. You are a good, kind girl. It is a great weight from our minds that Gretchen goes with you.”

“I am so glad that she is coming.”

“And the young man…he is a good young man. Earnest…reliable…I hope much that all will go as we hope. It is the old pattern. It is with us through the ages. It is our heritage…and who are we to question it? My dear child, I shall think of you and be so grateful that you came to us. You will see what is happening here and you can tell your people at home.”

I bent and kissed her wrinkled cheek and she put out a hand and touched mine.

“May the blessing of the Lord God go with you,” she said.

When I came down, Frau Brandt said to me: “Grossmutter has been talking to you?”

“Yes,” I said. “It was very moving.”

“Her childhood in Russia?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Poor Grossmutter. She is sad about all this. She thought she had done with that when she left her homeland all those years ago. Now here it is again. We have been through some hard years and now that we seem to be coming to some prosperity again…this comes. Well, I want you to know how grateful we are to you for taking Gretchen back with you.”

“She is worried about leaving you.”

“Yes, poor Gretchen. But she wants to go…if she stayed she could not be happy to say goodbye to Edward.”

“I know.”

Her eyes shone with hope. “And now we are happy for her…and so grateful to you all. I worry about her more than Kurt and Helmut. The boys can take better care of themselves. We shall be thinking of you.”

“And we shall be thinking of you.”

“Yes, I know. This has not been just a holiday…a brief stay with friends, has it? What happened the other night has been significant. I do not want Gretchen to grieve for us. Our people have been persecuted throughout the ages. It has made us strong. We have suffered in the past and we shall in the future. But we shall survive. We always have.”

She took me into her arms and we embraced.

She was right. What had happened—deeply shocking as it was—had brought us all together.

Soon after that we said our final farewells and left.

We crossed the Channel that night. The sea was calm and we sat on deck, huddled in rugs, for the night air was chilly.

The stars were brilliant against a dark blue velvet sky. There were not many people on deck. The majority of the passengers had decided to stay below. Not far from me sat Gretchen and Edward, their chairs close. I saw that they were holding hands. And then there was Dorabella and Dermot Tregarland. To her delight, Dermot had traveled with us.

So much had happened during that brief holiday. Love was much in evidence. I thought the course of four people’s lives had been changed—five if I considered my own, for what touched Dorabella must be of importance to me, too. Romance and love were charming, and on this occasion they had blossomed among much which was ugly.

I felt apart. Looking up at the stars, I was aware of the enormity of the universe. I felt alone and rather sad, shut out in a way. Edward and Gretchen…Dorabella and Dermot…

I wondered if this was significant and whether love was destined to pass me by.

WE PARTED FROM DERMOT in London. He went to Paddington to get his train to Cornwall, and Dorabella, Edward, Gretchen, and I caught the first train to Hampshire.

From London I telephoned home to ask them to meet us and to take the opportunity to explain that Gretchen would be with us.

I spoke to my father. I was glad he answered, for he always accepted what we did as a matter of course. My mother might have been inclined to want explanations.

“We’re home, Daddy,” I said.

“Wonderful.” I could never hear his voice after an absence without emotion. “What time is your train, darling?”

I told him.

“Daddy,” I went on, “we’ve got someone with us. It’s Kurt’s sister. We want her to stay for a while. Tell you all about it when we meet.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll tell your mother. Can’t wait to see you. It seems a long time.”

I was smiling when I put down the telephone. I was thinking of all we had to tell them.

Gretchen said rather apprehensively: “Did you tell them I was with you?”

“I did.”

“And…er…do they mind? What did your mother say?”

“It was my father. He just said, ‘That’s fine.’ They’re used to our bringing people home from school, aren’t they, Dorabella?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Without notice, too. They never minded.”

She was looking a little bereft because she had had to part with Dermot, although they had made arrangements to see each other very soon. He was going to be asked to visit us. I knew it would not be long before the invitation would be issued. My parents would be very eager to see him.