war and indigenous Germans waited for their chance to seize coveted houses and jobs, as houses became empty and the trains overflowed with refugees fleeing while they could, his mother would beat him with his horsewhip for even talking to the girl.
He and the girl were like brother and sister. Until he changed schools. Until the company of his peers became more exciting. Until he began to understand the threat to the purity of the German race. Suddenly, they were children no longer and it was not possible to be friends.
He was a German. She was a Jew.
I shut her out. I shut out the memory of those haunting dark eyes. I shut out what I did and what I became. I close my eyes against the coming day, the boy I was. Against the sick endless knowledge of my own betrayal.
Kate found a small vegetarian hotel on the edge of the village. Her room faces the estuary and she opens her window wide to a thick airless afternoon. This will be fine until she can find somewhere to rent.
Away over the water purple clouds are amassing. There is going to be a storm and she is glad of it. Her head aches and she feels tense and vaguely apprehensive.
She thinks of Martha. Martha and Fred living in that one-storey, timeless house that holds the faint resonance of a colonial era.
Restless, she makes tea she does not really want, then throws herself on top of the bed and closes her eyes. She hears the first distant rumble of thunder start like a mumbled threat and with it the strange anxiety surfaces.
She thinks she knows the cause of it. Entering that house reminded her of Dora. The reminiscent smells of an old house, where long-faded curtains and fabrics of sofas and chairs hold still the nostalgic memories of childhood. And of hope. Another visit, one more chance of saying and doing the right thing.
She thinks about that freak London storm that sent her here, which woke her from a dream of such joy that she tried to cling on to it. She did not want to wake up in her aunt’s flat in the centre of London where any moment the dull roar of traffic would begin.
She lay listening to the violent wind isolating her in yet another city, and felt an overpowering dislocation and a longing to change the course her life had suddenly taken: regular employment, city salary, punishing hours.
She knew she should be grateful. She should be enjoying writing travel features. She should be glad of decent money. But she was homesick for India, for a job she had loved, for her friends. For the person she had thought Richard was.
The knowledge that she could never go back, never return to that place and time of happiness was a sharp pain under her ribs. It had ended so abruptly that Kate knew she would never take joy or fulfilment for granted again.
Her brother, Luke, had phoned to tell her that Dora was dying, the same week Richard’s wife had flown unexpectedly to Karachi to join him.
– I have to give it another try, Kate. I have a four-year-old child.
– Of course you do. I see that. I’ll stay in England. I won’t come back.
– It might be easier for us both. It would be awful to have you so near.
– Yes. I expect it would.
Kate stunned, in shock; Richard trying to keep the relief out of his voice.
Later, when she could think straight, she realised Richard must have known for months that his wife was coming. An estranged wife does not travel thousands of miles with a small child, just hoping they will be welcome.
Kate gets off the bed, picks up her cooling tea and goes to the window. Why did Richard, thousands of miles away, after months of silence, decide to ring her at that particular moment, in the middle of a storm, his voice finally ending a life she could not let go of. Somehow she knew it would be him. Kate believes in karma.
– Kate, it’s me, Richard.
– Richard. Is something wrong?
– Darling Kate, I just needed to hear your voice. You don’t even sound surprised.
– No, I’m not surprised. Not in the least.
– Kate, you sound so … cold.
– Not cold, Richard. Sensible. It is what you wanted me to be, wasn’t it?
Silence, Then – You are angry with me. I’ve hurt you, Kate. I’m sorry.
Kate was not angry, she was furious.
– Richard, I lived and worked with you for two years. You told me your marriage was over. Definitely over. Your wife rings you out of the blue to announce her return, and you suddenly tell me you must try again for the sake of your child … And, oh, by the way, as you have to go back to England because your mother is dying, maybe, it is better, easier, if you don’t come back. Isn’t that how it was? Tell me if I have got it wrong!
– I thought you agreed it was the best thing, Kate. I thought I had to try once more …
– So why are you ringing me now?
– Because I miss you very much and because I don’t know if I can make this marriage work.
– I see. You want to keep all your options open, in case you get bored trying to piece together a relationship for the sake of your child?
– For heaven’s sake, Kate, you seem intent on twisting everything I say.
– No, Richard! I flew home because my mother was dying and suddenly things became very clear. I saw things as they really were, not as I wanted them to be. You never stopped for one moment to consider our relationship before you leapt back into your marriage. You never rang me once to see how I was or to find out if my mother had died …
Kate felt the tears behind her eyelids.
– I thought we were close friends, but I was only a stopgap. An aid worker passing through. Unimportant, or you would have told your wife that it was too late, you had met someone else who meant something to you. Anyway, anyway, it doesn’t matter.
– Of course it matters … Kate, please, I’m sorry, really sorry. I have made a big mistake …
– Tough.
– Can I at least fly home and talk to you?
– No. It’s much too late, for me, anyway. Just for once, think about someone else. Your wife and child. Make your marriage work. After all, it was important enough six months ago to end our life together. I hope it all works out. No! I don’t want to hear any more. I am going to put the phone down …
She felt Marjorie’s arms round her shoulders as her heart jumped painfully.
– Well done, favourite niece.
– I’m your only niece.
– True.
Marjorie threw two books of maps onto the table between them.
– Where is it going to be this time? Which country?
– You old witch. England. For a bit anyway.
They placed the map on the floor. – Close your eyes and point.
– Have I told you, you are absolutely my favourite aunt?
– I am your only aunt.
Marjorie turned the map round. Kate closed her eyes and randomly stabbed her finger somewhere. She expected to land in the sea, but when she opened her eyes her finger was right on the toe of Cornwall.
– Very apt, Marjorie murmured. – All the nuts land in the toe.
Now Kate gets off the bed and goes to the window. How do you ever know you have done the right thing? She is drawn to caring for strangers, when she could not