Alphabet House (47 page)

The figure beside her gave a curt nod.

‘So she could have already led me to James the first day.’ Bryan took a deep breath and immediately clasped his side. It was a difficult fact to accept.

‘Yes, that’s right, if you’d shown her a photo of him.’ Petra thrust out her bottom lip. ‘She probably has several pictures of him tucked away somewhere. It wasn’t unusual for Gisela to take him along to family gatherings.’ She smiled quietly, stroking the back of James’ hand tenderly. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the window since Mariann Devers’ exit. ‘Sometimes he was even allowed to take the picture.’

Bryan closed his eyes and could see Gisela’s blurred face before him in the first photo he’d studied at Mariann Devers’ place. The photographer hadn’t been very experienced. He fell back in his seat and knocked his head several times against the headrest, mumbling to himself.

Bridget looked from him to Laureen and back again. Just as she was about to say something, she was interrupted by a knock on the window.

‘Erich!’ Mariann Devers called out from the platform. James looked at her apathetically and tried to return her smile. ‘I nearly forgot. I think this belongs to you.’ She unravelled her multitude of scarves. ‘I’ve been wearing it for years. I stole it from Kröner. He bragged about having stolen it from you. It amused me to wear it when I was with him. He never discovered it!’ She hurled the piece of cloth in through the window, smiled at Petra again and turned away without a word.

‘Strange woman,’ said Bridget, just managing to duck in time. She had no desire to touch the object that had just flown down to the floor. James looked at it. The scarf was worn thin. It was blue with a decorative border and had a little heart embroidered in one corner. He picked it up gingerly and held it before him, as though it were something fragile and alive.

Winter was not yet over. Laureen had been staring worriedly at the road as they drove the last few miles up to the house. Until now the trip had been no pleasure.

‘Must we, Bryan?’ she asked for the fourth time.

‘
I
must, yes. But
you
can still change your mind.’ Bryan splayed his fingers on the steering wheel, then gripped it firmly again.

‘How can we know he won’t turn nasty again?’

‘We’ve already discussed that, Laureen. It’s all over.’

‘Discussed, yes. But do we
know
?’

‘Petra says so, and so does his doctor.’

Laureen sighed. Bryan knew quite well that she’d been dreading meeting James again for over four months now.

Ever since they had come home.

‘I’m glad he settled in Dover and not Canterbury,’ she added.

‘I know you are, Laureen.’ Bryan checked the intersecting side roads. The traffic was thinning out, so their destination couldn’t be far. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in that part of the country, but it wasn’t the part of Dover he knew best. He shook his head. ‘And why would he have wanted to live there?’ he continued, without looking at her. ‘He has neither a childhood home nor any family left in Canterbury, and his sister, Elizabeth, lives in London.’

‘Why?’ The windscreen was fogging up inside and she wiped it clear. ‘I’ll tell you why.’ Bryan felt her looking at him. ‘Because
you
live in Canterbury!’

Bryan smiled quietly. ‘That’s probably not much of a reason, Laureen.’ Heavy clouds behind the mist heralded the cliffs and the Channel behind them. ‘Petra says he never mentions me.’

Laureen looked down at her hands. Their restlessness clearly revealed her state of mind. ‘Bryan, how’s it going with him, really?’ she asked.

Bryan shrugged his shoulders. ‘The doctors think the scars they discovered when they scanned his brain were caused by a number of tiny blood clots. That wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘What are you thinking?’

Bryan saw the image of a motionless figure before him, lying in bed with blank eyes, suffering the effects of electroshock and pills, the harassment by his fellow patients, plus isolation and constant fear. ‘I’m thinking about a lot of things, but primarily the blood transfusions they gave him. It’s a miracle he survived them.’

‘And how’s he doing now?’

‘As well as possible, I suppose. Petra says he’s making progress.’

Laureen took a deep breath. ‘That’s comforting to know. Especially when you think of how much you’re spending on his treatment.’ She frowned and shook her head.

Bryan knew she had noticed his uneasiness.

‘I’m sure it’s going to go all right today, darling,’ she finally said, as the landscape swept past. ‘Just wait!’

The house was not big. Several of the properties Bryan had contemplated buying were considerably larger. Young evergreens stood along the stone wall, stiff and tinged with white by the frost of the previous day.

When Petra came out to meet them it was clear that she had grown older.

She gave a faint smile as she shook Bryan’s hand.

‘We’ve been looking so forward to this,’ said Laureen, returning her hug.

‘Thank you for the invitation, Petra.’ Bryan looked at her rather self-consciously. ‘I’m glad you’re ready to see us now.’ She nodded. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked, looking towards the house.

‘OK, I suppose.’ Petra half closed her eyes. ‘He won’t speak German any more.’

‘That was to be expected, wasn’t it?’ Bryan looked straight at her.

‘Yes, I guess so. But it’s difficult for me.’

‘I’m very grateful to you, Petra.’

‘I know,’ she said, smiling faintly again. ‘I know that, Bryan.’

‘Are things more peaceful now?’

‘Yes, but it was bad in the beginning. Everybody had to come here and see him.’ She pointed towards the land stretching towards the cliff. ‘They parked their cars right up to the back garden.’

‘Bryan has told me that, in a way, the Second World War lasted longer for James than for the Japanese man they found on an island in the Pacific a few years ago.’ Laureen tried to seem impressed.

‘That’s what they said, yes. Which is why all the curious people had to come!’ Petra gestured towards the front door in invitation. It was biting cold. She had no coat on.

‘We could have kept it secret if it hadn’t been for the authorities,’ said Bryan. ‘If only they could have found out which account to draw his pension from.’ James had yet to show himself. ‘Oh well, he got it in the end, paid retroactively. A kind of consolation, one might say.’

‘Yes,’ said Petra, opening the door.

James sat in the living room, gazing out of the window. Light didn’t penetrate, even though the window faced directly towards the cliffs. Bryan sensed Laureen’s uneasiness as soon as she saw him, and she quickly retreated to the kitchen, which was Petra’s domain.

Bryan tried to relax. James was looking better. He had put on weight and his eyes were kinder. Petra had been taking good care of him.

He gave a start when Bryan spoke. ‘Hello, James,’ was all he managed to say.

James turned his head. His eyes dwelt on Bryan for a long time, as if trying to arrange the separate elements of Bryan’s
face into a coherent whole. He nodded briefly in return, then continued staring out of the window.

Bryan sat at his side for half an hour, watching his chest heave up and down.

The women were enjoying themselves in the kitchen. It was clear that their informal chat was doing Petra good, and Laureen had no intention of stopping. They looked at Bryan with curiosity when he came out to them.

‘He didn’t say so much as a word to me.’ Bryan made his way to the little dining table and sat down heavily.

‘He doesn’t say much, Bryan.’

‘Is he never happy?’

‘Sometimes, yes. But rarely. He hasn’t felt much like laughing recently.’ Petra took another cup from the cupboard. ‘I’m sure it’ll come back again. Some people would say James is already much better. But I think it’s going slowly.’

Bryan looked at his cup as it was filled up. ‘If there’s anything I can do, please tell me.’

‘You don’t need to do anything.’

‘What about money?’

‘You give us plenty. And we have the pension, too.’

‘Just let me know.’

‘I will. And besides that, there are the drawings.’

Bryan noticed an undertone of scepticism in Petra’s last comment.

‘The drawings?’

‘Yes, the drawings that were inside the cardboard roll James took from Kröner.’ Bryan’s face took on a puzzled look. Holding up her hand as a sign for him to wait, she disappeared upstairs.

‘Is he being strange, Bryan?’ Laureen gave him an anxious look that didn’t appear to want an answer.

‘A bit, yes.’

‘Perhaps we should have waited longer before coming here.’

‘Perhaps. I think I’ll try and get him to go for a walk after lunch. Maybe we’ll be able to talk a little then.’

Laureen put down her cup. ‘What? Are you mad?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I simply won’t allow it! You’re not going out to the cliffs with James!’

‘Whyever not, Laureen?’

‘It just won’t do. He’ll do you harm, I know he will!’ She spoke the words emphatically. Petra came down the stairs and noticed Laureen’s flushed cheeks.

‘I’m sorry…’ Petra said, preparing to go again.

‘There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ said Bryan. ‘I was just suggesting I’d go for a walk with James after lunch.’

Petra caught Laureen’s eye briefly, then looked out into the yard.

‘Does he still hate me?’ Bryan almost dared not hear the reply.

‘I don’t know, Bryan.’ She frowned. ‘He never speaks about you.’

‘But it’s a possibility?’

‘With James everything is possible.’ She turned and handed Bryan the parcel she’d fetched. ‘Here, look at this.’

The paper was yellowed and crumpled, the string thin and presumably just as ancient. An old newspaper came to view.
Unterhaltungs-Beilage
it said, in Gothic letters. Bryan turned the first page. The drawings lay there in a small bundle. He looked at them, then placed them carefully side by side on the kitchen table. He examined the paper and the signatures, looking several times at Petra. Then he sat down.

‘I can see why Kröner kept them for himself,’ he said. ‘Have you had them appraised?’

‘James says they can’t be appraised, not just like that.’ Petra laid her hand on the drawings.

Laureen stared at the smallest of them. She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t it say “Leonardo da Vinci” there?’

Petra nodded quietly.
‘Yes, and there, and there. And this one’s signed by Bernardino Luini.’ Laureen stopped and looked determinedly at Petra. ‘You can’t have them lying around here, Petra!’ she exclaimed.

‘It wasn’t my choice to make,’ was all Petra said.

James still didn’t utter a word during the whole of lunch. Laureen gave up trying to talk to him after a single attempt, but followed every one of his movements attentively and with disapproval. James ate lustily. When he wasn’t staring at his plate, he was looking at the serving dish, and took himself a second helping without asking.

‘Bryan suggested you should take a walk together, James,’ said Petra, when they were eating their dessert. Laureen glanced at her in dismay. Bryan put down his spoon and looked across at James, who was now sitting quite still, staring at his plate.

‘What do you say, James? Shall we?’ Bryan tried to sound enthusiastic. The face that turned towards him looked indifferent, almost apathetic.

Laureen drew him to one side while Petra was fetching James’ overcoat. ‘I don’t like it, Bryan,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think you ought to.’

‘Stop it now, Laureen!’

‘You know how I feel about him. Do you have to? Shouldn’t the rest of us come with you, at least? He hasn’t said a word all day. He’s being weird!’ she said, emphasizing every word.

‘He hasn’t been outdoors since last week when they went to London for his treatment, Petra says.’

‘I still don’t think you should, Bryan. Don’t do it – for my sake!’ She was pleading with him. ‘Didn’t you see the look he gave you?’

The wind had died out. An easterly breeze filled their lungs with sea air. The earth was still so frozen that it was difficult to find footing on the cliffs where there was so little vegetation.

They walked a pace apart, silent and reserved. Bryan looked at James several times and tried to reach him with a smile.

‘Petra showed me the drawings, James,’ he said quietly.

The scream of gulls suddenly rose up above them, drawing their gaze out to sea. Bryan went over what he wanted to say several times before he finally said it. ‘They’re not authentic, did you know that?’ James didn’t answer. He nodded briefly, without interest.

The waves were breaking coldly and violently beneath them when they reached the edge of the cliff. Bryan turned up his collar and glanced at his friend.

‘I don’t think it was far from here that we put the balloon up, James. Do you remember?’ As Bryan expected, there was no reply. ‘We were happy then. Even though it nearly ended in disaster.’ Bryan lit his first cigarette of the day. The mild tobacco was refreshing. There was no one to be seen all the way back to town. The sea was an orgy of cool colours.

Several times James emitted a small grunt. He clutched his coat tightly.

‘Shall we go home, James? You’re not enjoying this, are you?’

Bryan was answered by yet another grunt. Then James picked up the pace.

He stopped at a spot where they had obviously been before, many years ago. James stood looking straight down into the depths. Then he turned around.

‘No,’ he said suddenly, inspecting the ground beneath him. ‘I don’t remember all of it. Only parts.’

Bryan inhaled deeply, the smoke blending with his words. ‘Of what, James? Our balloon trip?’

‘I can only remember that you let me hang on the cliff.’ A brief look of clarity vanished immediately from James’ face.

‘But I got you up, James! Don’t you remember that? It was just an accident. We were just two foolish boys.’

James started to clear his throat. One moment he was standing quite relaxed, the next moment he was flexing all his muscles
methodically, one by one. His behaviour and facial expressions changed constantly. It couldn’t be easy to be Petra.

‘I remember things, and I don’t remember them,’ said James, coming to a halt. ‘You don’t know the story of the malingerers yet, do you?’ he said suddenly, cutting short his own chain of thought.

‘Probably not all of it. I only know what I’ve heard from Laureen. What Petra told her.’

James took a couple of steps onto the plateau as Bryan followed him with his eyes. ‘That story is the most important element of my life.’ He stared in front of him, shaking his head, letting sorrow take over again. ‘And it’s not even my own story. That’s not great to think about, is it?’ The edge of the cliff was less than three feet away. James came and stood in front of him and looked him straight in the eyes for the first time. ‘Petra tells me you became a doctor, Bryan,’ he said suddenly.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘And that you made a lot of money.’

‘Yes, that’s also true, James. I own a pharmaceutical firm.’

‘And that your brothers and sisters are well.’

‘Yes, they’re well.’

‘There’s a great difference between us, isn’t there Bryan?’

As Bryan looked into his eyes, their colour changed with the reflections of the sea. ‘I don’t know, James. I suppose there is.’ Bryan regretted his dishonesty the moment James looked at him.

‘You don’t “know”?’ James said very quietly, taking a step closer. Their faces were almost touching. James’ breath was sweetish. ‘I think I can live with my wasted life,’ he said, pursing his lips. ‘But there are many things I find difficult.’

‘What, for example?’

‘What?’ He wasn’t smiling. ‘You, for example. And withdrawal symptoms from the pills, needless to say. That people speak to me. And that they expect me to answer. That I’m Gerhart and Erich and James, all at the same time!’