She sat in the Wohnzimmer, her hands folded.
He stood beside the window, regarding her. He could not concentrate on what he needed to say, faced with her grave gentleness. He felt protective towards his English bride, captive in an enemy country.
The maids were out enjoying their free Sunday afternoon. Very likely they had gone off to the local barracks to watch the soldiers leaving for the front, a favourite activity of theirs. They were carried away by the romance of the war, the shouting crowds, the soldiers marching away to fight for the Fatherland, the garlands. Waving at the young men was delightful. The girls did not doubt the soldiers would be back soon, their bayonets wreathed in laurels.
‘Irene, I think we should go to the parents’. If we don’t go today, it will be much harder in the future.’ She turned her head towards him. ‘Mamma would be so sad not to see you. She asked specially, she telephoned me at work though she hates using the telephone.’ He hesitated. ‘Nothing will be said, I’m sure, that you’d find difficult.’
When the war began, two weeks earlier, the Sunday lunches in the Schloßstraße were suspended. Instead, the family was invited to tea at three o’clock; early, to save fuel.
‘You will want to talk about German victories in Belgium, won’t you?’ They were speaking English, as they did when they were alone; it was a compact they’d made when war began. ‘No, that’s not fair of me.’
‘Of course, the more victories are won, the sooner the war will be over.’
‘The more German victories.’
‘Well, I am a German. I want Germany to win this war. I don’t approve of the war, as you know, but if we have to fight, I must want my country to win.’
‘And me? Am I supposed to want Germany to win? Germany, which is responsible for this war, whatever the newspapers say.’
‘It is the responsibility of both sides, it is the fault of the outmoded system of government. We want humanity to win.’
She frowned. ‘Thomas, you make these statements, but what do they mean? Humanity is not a combatant, only a victim.’
He held out her coat. ‘Please come, you’ll feel much worse if you stay here alone.’
‘Will Elise be there? Will she speak to me?’
‘Elise is a lady, and a Christian. Of course she will speak to you.’
The streets were deathly quiet.
‘Is Alexander all right?’ she asked as they walked along. ‘Why haven’t we seen him?’
Thomas looked embarrassed. ‘He asked me to tell you his news. He has volunteered. He didn’t want to tell you himself, he thought you might be angry. He is still in Berlin – it will be a while before they need a man of his age, if they ever do.’
‘Alexander! In the army! Why on earth?’
‘He feels it is his duty. He thinks that by fighting hard in this war Jews will prove their loyalty to the Fatherland.’
At the Curtius house, the atmosphere was subdued though the room was quite full. The round table in the Salon was covered in a lacy white tablecloth, with the cups and plates from the Berlin service arranged round a silver heater, and plates of sandwiches, and a cake, and fruit in porcelain dishes, and bonbons. Frau Mamma embraced Irene and Thomas. ‘An English five o’clock tea,’ she said comfortably, ‘only at three.’ It was like her to say such a thing, at a moment when theatres were refusing to play Shakespeare. It was like her to draw Irene into the place beside her.
It struck Irene that the atmosphere had been highly animated until she arrived. The conquest of Belgium, the march towards Paris – how could they not want to discuss the triumphs of German arms?
‘Lotte cannot come, the children are not well,’ said Frau Mamma. ‘She is lucky to have a doctor to hand.’
‘And Freddy? And Paul?’ Irene asked.
‘They are saying goodbye to their friends, they will be back. They are living in the barracks with their regiments.’
There was a silence.
‘When do Paul and Freddy leave?’ asked Elise briskly. ‘So many men are needed for a rapid victory, after the logistical success of our mobilisation.’
Frau Mamma showed no emotion. ‘Next week, we think.’
Mathilde came solemnly in with the teapot, Bettina following with the coffeepot. At least now they could all fuss over offering one another plates and sandwiches. Irene wanted to say, ‘You mustn’t mind me, pretend I don’t exist.’
After a while Freddy and Paul arrived, in uniform, looking exuberant. They were greeted with applause. Paul in particular appeared proud of his uniform. It transformed him.
They separated into groups. The noise level rose. Irene avoided Elise: she could not bring herself to ask about Heinz. She only knew that on the first day of war Elise had gone to the station with her husband, in a black and white dress with a red scarf at her neck, carrying his heavy bags. She had watched the train steaming out of the station, the men leaning out of the windows, shouting, ‘See you for Christmas.’ Then she had returned home and raised the black, white and red flag of Germany outside her window.
Freddy was not enthusiastic. ‘Such a nuisance, this war,’ he said to Irene in English, drawing her away from the others. ‘My fellow officers think this is a necessary conflict. In three months, they say, we’ll bring France and Russia to their knees. They like to discuss the philosophical and ethical implications of war. Even Paul says the decadence and self-indulgence of Germany will be purged by combat. But for me. . . I was so happy in London, I loved your family. And now I have to go and shoot Englishmen. Or let them shoot me.’ He touched her arm lightly. ‘For you it must be so difficult, Irene. Frau Mamma and I were talking, for us you are our dear daughter and sister.’
‘You are very kind, Freddy, indeed you are.’
‘I have something for you, a letter from your mother, she gave it to me just before I left, that awful afternoon. She said I must hand it to you in person, and of course I am obeying, mothers must always be obeyed. She was like a mother to me.’ He gave her a crumpled envelope. ‘I’m supposing you will be able to receive letters from. . . from them?’
‘I suppose so.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Of course, if I find you are communicating with the enemy, then I shall be obliged to report you.’ He looked round the room. ‘I understand why Frau Mamma wants to bring us together, but it will be painful to remember those who are absent. Let us pray this war will end soon. With a German victory, but without a British defeat, if that’s possible.’
Paul came over to them. ‘What is my brother saying to you?’ He spoke German. ‘I hope he is preaching the certainty of a great victory.’ Irene smiled wanly. ‘These are glorious days. Now at last Germans can speak with one voice. Even those rats the Social Democrats have declared their loyalty to the common good.’
‘Rats?’
‘Mice, then. You cannot imagine how it was at Heidelberg when war was declared, it was transfiguring. I was not sad to abandon my doctorate, this war is much more important. Scholarship can wait, at Heidelberg only the women and the physically unsound will stay. The whole of my Burschenschaft has gone to the army.’ He looked at Irene speculatively. ‘We have a professor at Heidelberg, he hates England, he has been lecturing for years about English hostility to the Fatherland. Now he can speak of nothing but revenge. “Gott strafe England!” is written in huge letters in his lecture hall.’
‘And do you agree?’ she asked.
‘I do not hate England, except as our enemy, and if I do it’s because I love Germany. At Heidelberg, I would walk in the mountains, so mysterious, spiritual, and everything around me spoke of the greatness of the German nation and the German people. I am bound to hate my country’s enemy.’ He looked as though he were addressing a seminar.
‘And if we reject the principle of war and fighting, what are we to do then?’
‘Do we have a right to a private life, even a private intellectual life, when our country is threatened? I think not. It is hard, but also fine, that we should give up our own ambitions for this greater cause. At such times, we are moved by forces larger than ourselves.’ He looked at Irene coldly. ‘For you of course it is difficult, but it is clear where your loyalties must lie. Whatever you were before you married, now you are the wife of a German, and soon you will be the mother of Germans. When you married a German, you married Germany.’
She thought, what right has he to speak like this?
‘And what is your brother doing? Mark, your clever brother. Will he go to war?’
‘I don’t know, I can’t communicate with my family.’ Actually she knew there would soon be a way to write to England, through a Danish friend of Mark’s. ‘As far as I know, he will not be released for military service.’
‘I’m sure that will suit him. I cannot imagine Mark being eager to throw himself into combat.’
On the way home Thomas said, ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘I was glad to see your mother.’
‘We don’t need to go again for a while. We have a good excuse – Salitz. That must be our private world.’
‘Thomas, you won’t have to go into the army? I couldn’t bear life here on my own.’
‘I have to have a medical inspection, but since I’m thirty-five, and haven’t trained as an officer, I would not be much use. It’s most unlikely I’d be called up, there are many more men than are needed.’ He put his arm round her. ‘It would be terrible, fighting against people I admire so much. But we shall have to live carefully. Our practice may not have much work, it’s already greatly reduced.’ They walked past the windows of the shops, cruelly brilliant in the late afternoon sunshine. ‘One thing, I would warn you,’ Thomas went on, ‘do not let yourself be heard speaking English in public places. People suspect spies everywhere. Be careful, my dearest, always be careful.’