Afra picks up the basket, puts the hoe into it. She pushes the washing on the line aside with her hand and slips past the sheets. She can hear the little boy crying and hurries back to the house to see to him. She puts the basket down on the bench beside the door. Albert is already coming into the corridor inside the doorway to meet her, his face wet and smeared with tears and the snot running from his nose. She picks the little boy up and carries him into the kitchen, where she puts him down on the kitchen table, takes her handkerchief out of her apron pocket and wipes his face with it.
‘Don’t be scared, Albert, I’m here. I only popped outside for a minute to hang the washing on the line. I won’t leave you alone.’ She speaks comfortingly to him, and hugs him tightly. She feels his little body trembling with his tears.
‘I’m here, darling, Mama is here, do you hear me? Did you have a bad dream?’
Slowly, the child in her arms calms down.
Afra hears a knock at the kitchen door, and next moment the door is opened and the visitor comes in. She lets go of the child and turns round.
‘What are you after this time?’ Afra snaps at the visitor. Albert is still standing on the table; she feels him clutching her arm with both hands.
‘The door wasn’t locked, so I came in. I thought I’d be welcome,’ he tells her.
‘My father isn’t here, if it’s him you want.’
‘I know he isn’t here, I saw him go out to mow the meadow by the railway embankment.’
‘Then what do you want here, Hetsch?’
Afra can’t stand him; as long as she can remember she’s felt uneasy in his presence. She can’t say why, he’s never given her any cause for it, at least none that would account for her dislike, but she has this oppressive sense of fear when he’s in the same room. It is here now, it’s in the air, she can’t shake it off, and he seems to feel that himself. Any other man would go away, but he likes it, it spurs him on. He’s been courting her in his own way for a year; he turns up whenever there’s an opportunity, he waits around for her when he thinks he’ll find her on her own.
‘Don’t want anything, don’t need anything. Just wanted to make sure everything was all right. I’ll be off again if you’re in a hurry,’ he says with his typical pretence at friendliness, distorting his face into a smile, but all the same he makes no move to leave. Instead, he sits on the bench in the kitchen and grins at Afra.
‘You can see I’m busy. You’re not blind, just lame.’
She turns to the little boy and lifts him down from the table. Carefully, she places him on the floor in front of her.
‘Afraid of me, are you, Afra, or why do you put your child in front of you as if he’s to protect you?’
‘I’m not afraid, not of anyone, and certainly not of a cripple like you.’
Yet she is holding on to the child with both hands.
‘Tell you what, Afra, I noticed long ago that I’m not the sort you fancy.’
‘You’ll try anything, though.’
Afra lets go of Albert.
‘You just don’t want a fellow with a hunched back. One foot shorter than the other and something the matter with his back! But there’s two sides to everything in life; they didn’t want me fighting under Adolf, so that’s why I survived, which is more than you can say of everyone my age.’
Afra is about to walk away from the table and over to the dresser, but he grabs her wrist and pulls her close to him, so close that she can feel his breath on her face.
‘A little something like that wrong with a man has its good side and its bad side. And when it comes to the nub of the matter I’m as good as any other man, and as good as a Frenchie anyway. You needn’t wait for him, you know, he won’t be seen around here, that’s for sure.’
‘Let go of me!’
She twists and turns, wriggling out of his grasp.
‘I have to see to the child and then make a mid-morning snack for my father. I don’t have any time to spare now.’
‘Why in such a hurry? Your father won’t be home from mowing for some time yet, he’s not as quick as he used to be. You can offer me a mug of coffee, why don’t you? I wouldn’t say no.’
Hetsch is leaning back on the bench.
‘If you want a coffee then go home and make it for yourself,’ Afra retorts. She turns away to go over to the dresser, but once again he moves faster than she expects, and he seizes her arm again. But now he pulls himself up by her, and so they are standing face to face. He is holding both her arms close to her body. Afra can hardly move.
‘I wouldn’t be a bad catch for you. I need a wife who’s a good manager and won’t waste money. You’re tough, but I don’t mind that. I like tough, bitter women. In fact, I really fancy them.’
He puts his arms round her and holds her close.
Afra tries to shake him off, bracing herself against him with all her might, but she can’t get free of his grip.
‘I’ve already told you to leave me alone.’
He tries to kiss her, and she turns her head aside.
With his mouth close to her ear, very quietly, almost inaudibly, he says, ‘Hey, a wildcat like you needs a man clever enough to let her have her way. And that’s me, never you fear. You’re not likely to get anyone else, you know.’
Then he lets go of her.
Albert has started crying again, runs to his mother and clutches her apron, but she doesn’t move from the spot. ‘What do you mean?’
Hetsch stands there grinning at her. ‘What do you think I mean? I mean you can think yourself lucky if I take you, because no one else will, not with your brat by the Frenchman. Who knows how many others you’ve had? No one knows, not with a waitress in a bar.’
This time it is Afra who goes up to him and stands with her face close to his.
‘You get out of here this minute. Go away.’
At that moment they both hear a loud noise. With presence of mind, Afra says, ‘That’s my mother up in the bedroom under the attic, so be off with you, because she’ll hear me if I call for her.’
She tries not to let her fear or the fact that she is lying show.
He thinks of saying something to her, glares at her briefly, but then goes to the door without a word. Then he turns to her once more.
‘You know something, Afra? I’ll get you in the end. You’ll have no other option. Poor folk like your family are starvelings, and your father’s getting odder all the time. You can throw me out now, but I tell you one thing: I’ll be back. And then I’ll show you what a real man’s like. You’ll be grateful when I do come back.’
Afra stands there rubbing her forearm. She is trembling all over.
‘Not for the world, Hetsch, not for the world!’
‘We’ll see about that. You won’t get rid of me so easily. I always get what I want.’
And with these words he goes out.
Afra stands in the kitchen a little longer, waiting to be sure he is out of the house, and only then does she go over to the bedroom to see what made the noise. The window of the bedroom is wide open. The wind must have blown it open, and the window frame must have hit the wardrobe and made the noise. The little earthenware vase that was standing on the far corner of the windowsill has fallen to the floor and broken into many fragments. Afra goes over to the window and bolts it shut. Albert has run after her. He is picking up the bits of the vase, curious about them.
‘No, Albert, you’ll hurt yourself. I’ll sweep it all up later.’
She takes his hand and goes out of the house. There’s no one in sight. She is still upset and trembling all over. She breathes deeply, tries to concentrate on the work she must do next. She takes the basket off the bench and goes back into the kitchen. It’s time to make her father’s mid-morning snack. Albert is crawling over the kitchen floor, playing with a piece of wood and chattering to himself as if nothing had happened. She bends down to him, takes the piece of wood away, and puts a crust of stale bread into his hand instead.
‘There’s a bit of bread, or you’ll be eating that stick.’
She strokes his head and kisses his forehead.
‘You get everywhere, you do; there’s no taking my eyes off you for a minute.’
Tired, ponderous, she straightens up and goes out to the pantry. Dark clouds have come up outside. Afra looks through the window at the washing hanging on the line. She will have to bring it in before the storm breaks. At that same moment, a gust of wind blows the pantry window open just a crack.