Chocolate Cake With Hitler (3 page)

“Very good, my Helga, very good. And do you like your teachers?”

“Yes, Uncle Leader.” I don’t particularly, especially since the war started and they’ve brought all the old ones out of retirement, but I thought that was the best thing to say.

“Well, you are a very lucky girl. My school teachers were terrible. I hated them. Everything I learnt I taught myself. I have very rarely met a school teacher who is not an idiot. Some of them were Jews, of course, in my day. At least you haven’t had to suffer that. At Steyr we had a Jewish teacher, a science teacher. We locked him in his laboratory. How he howled! Almost as good as Blondi! He had no authority over us, none at all. We had no respect for him…”

Uncle Adi seemed to drift off into his memories and Mummy ushered us quietly out. Auntie Eva stayed
sitting
on the sofa beside him, wearing her pretty smile.

The corridor of the Upper Bunker is full of soldiers. One of them looks only a year or two older than me. I’ve only seen him hurrying through, but he’s got a nice face. Some are guarding the doorways but most of them are just sitting around. They all smoke, which is
quite surprising as Uncle Leader hates smoking and he never used to allow anyone to smoke near him. When we were staying in the Berghof, Mummy always used to have to slip outside without Uncle Leader noticing because it made him so angry if anyone smoked, even in the gardens. I suppose he’s got more important things to worry about now. Anyway, it means that the corridors really smell of smoke, and it makes your clothes smell. Not that that’s the worst smell here. Most of the soldiers have a disgusting, beery, old-man smell.

It’s odd because I always think of soldiers as being very smart – even the ones we saw when we visited the military hospital, who were missing parts of their body, still had smart uniforms. I always used to picture
typical
soldiers with shiny buttons and shiny boots, shiny medals and shiny faces. At Castle Lanke, Head Storm Leader Schwagermann was forever polishing his boots and polishing his buttons. But today he came to see us and he was all dusty, he had buttons missing and he hadn’t even shaved. Not that that bothered Hedda. She wants to marry him because she loves his glass eye. She thinks it’s fantastic that he can pop it in and out.

One exception to the general shabbiness is Upper Group Leader Fegelein, or Uncle Hermann, as Auntie Eva introduced him to us in the corridor. He’s married to her sister Gretl, which doesn’t exactly make him an uncle of ours. He is impeccably smart. Every hair oiled into place, all shiny parts polished, a strong whiff of
cologne. He showed us his pistol, which is gold with a mother-of-pearl handle, more like jewellery than a weapon. I didn’t like the look of him to be honest. He’s got one of those chins that slides backwards and a great big moon of a forehead. Gretl is expecting their baby any day.

At bedtime I quietly asked Mrs. Junge if she had any news of the fighting. She didn’t. I asked her how long she thought we’d be here. She said she had no idea. She stroked my hair, and she looked so sad that I knew there had to be something she wasn’t telling me.

I keep getting this knot in my stomach – and a
feeling
of being stifled. There’s a heaviness in the air, and not just because it is stuffy down here – there’s a
heaviness
hanging over everyone. I could feel it at teatime; behind the jolly talk there’s a dull tiredness. Mrs. Junge shows it most, and Liesl. They don’t hide the bags under their eyes with face powder and rouge like Auntie Eva and Mummy.

I’ve been lying in the dark for ages now. It’s quieter in the corridor tonight. I can hear some singing and laughing – I think it’s the soldiers – but fewer footsteps tramping past than last night.

Tonight I want to dream about Horst Caspar, to imagine him coming to rescue us, just like he does in the film
Kohlberg
. He will have found a secret tunnel which leads right out of Berlin. I’ll be the last to go down it. He will take me by the hand and we’ll run
down the tunnel together and out into the bright
sunlight
.

1938

We are having breakfast at Swan Island. Papa is sitting at the head of the table opening letters. Suddenly he whoops with delight and claps his hands.

“At last! The old Jew’s finally given in. I knew our friends in the police would get him to see sense. It’s going to be fantastic. We’ll have the largest property on Swan Island. The garden will be twice the size it is now. We will have more guest houses, games rooms, a proper cinema.”

“What?”

Mummy corrects me: “Don’t say ‘what’, Helga, it isn’t nice.”

“Excuse me, Papa, what do you mean?”

“I’ve bought the house next door. And for a song. The old Jew tried to diddle us at first, but he’s come round.”

“Next door?”

“What’s the matter with you, Helga? Your brain doesn’t seem to be working this morning. Perhaps you swapped brains with Helmut during the night? Yes, next door.”

“What’s going to happen to the people who live there now?” I try hard not to let my voice tremble.

“Who cares? They’re going to live in France, or
something
. Somewhere a long way away. They were a bad lot. They should never have been allowed to live here.
All their money had been stolen from the German
people
. They were lucky to get a
pfennig
for the place. Swan Island is going to be completely clear of Jews. The Speers have snapped up the
Goldschmidt-Rothschild
place. So you’ll soon have plenty of
playmates
. Did I mention, sweetie, Albert and Margret Speer are visiting their new acquisition this afternoon and I’ve invited them to drop by for tea? I’ve no idea whether they’re bringing the children.”

I can’t finish my breakfast. I carefully drop my sausage under the table so that Blitz, our puppy, can
gobble
it. I have to find Reggie.

“Mummy, please can I get down?”

“Yes, if you’ve finished, Helga.”

“Can I go and feed the chickens?”

“Yes. Go and collect the scraps from Cook, and take Hilde with you.”

As soon as we’re outside I grab Hilde by the hand, swear her to secrecy – she’s not very trustworthy but I have to risk it – and together we run down to the bushes where I usually meet Reggie. We lie down in the grass and wait. It is damp and soon the grass begins to itch my skin. Hilde starts to whimper because of the cold. My tummy begins to rumble, but still there is no sign of Reggie, or anyone. We walk back to the house. Papa is on the steps.

“Where have you been?”

“Feeding the chickens.”

 “You are a liar, Helga Goebbels. You have not been feeding the chickens. You have not been anywhere near the chickens. Have you any idea of the anxiety you have caused your mother? Where have you been?”

“In the garden, Papa. Sorry, Papa.”

“Hilde. Stop that noise. Go to the nursery. Helga, you come with me!”

He leads me into the drawing room.

“Take off your coat.”

He sits down.

“Take off your pants.”

“Come here and bend over my knee.”

“Five smacks for a five-year-old liar. If you ever lie to me or your mother again you will get twice that number. Now go to the bathroom and wash your face. The Speers will soon be here for tea. You don’t want them to see you’ve been a cry-baby.”

I never saw Reggie again. Papa moved into her house. He called it his citadel. Mummy wouldn’t let him in our house any more. He telephoned, but she wouldn’t let us speak to him. When I had the chance, I would go and look for him in the spot where I used to look for Reggie, but he was never there.

State Secretary Hanke from Papa’s office came every day to help Mummy with everything. She called him her rock. They went riding together. Cook would make
them a picnic and they’d be gone all day.

Papa telephoned on my birthday. Mummy said I could talk to him for a minute. He was crying on the phone, “Please tell Mummy to let me come back. Tell her everything can be sorted out.”

I plucked up the courage to talk to her about it the next day, but it didn’t do any good. She gave me one of her you-should-know-better looks: “I’m afraid your Papa has been too naughty to be allowed home.”

I didn’t ask again, but suddenly one wet afternoon she told us to get our coats on because Nanny – I can’t actually remember which nanny it was, I can just remember her dark gabardine raincoat and her
revolting
handkerchief – was going to take me and Hilde and Helmut to visit him in the citadel. We were allowed half an hour.

We were so excited that as soon as we got there we all jumped on top of him and fell down together on to the sofa, still wearing our gumboots and raincoats. I’d forgotten how much I missed him, and also how bony he was. I whispered in his ear, so that the others couldn’t hear, telling him how he had to say a big sorry to Mummy and promise to be good. He smelled lovely and Papa-like. Half an hour was gone in a flash and Nanny came to the door to take us home. We didn’t want to go. Hilde started crying and that set us all off, including Papa. His nose went bright red and started dripping. He couldn’t find a handkerchief in his pocket,
so Nanny whipped one out and he had a good blow before giving it back to her. When we got to the front steps of the main house, Nanny took it out again to wipe our wet faces.

I made up my mind never to be naughty again.

One thing that always brings Mummy and Papa back together again is an invitation from Uncle Leader. Like cigarettes, arguments are banned in the Leader’s presence. Especially arguments between married
couples
. Uncle Leader is completely against divorce. Mummy says that is because he has never been married. She says that people who haven’t been married don’t understand how difficult it is. She divorced Harald’s father because she got married too young and she didn’t know what she was doing. She says that she and Papa will never get divorced, but they just have to live apart sometimes when things are difficult. Papa has a
bedroom
next to his office in Berlin so that he can stay there when things are difficult. One night, after he’d been staying in his office for quite a while, he came home after work to pick up Mummy and Hilde and me, to take us to a party for Uncle Leader. Hilde and I were very excited because we hadn’t seen Papa for ages but also because we were being allowed to stay up late to watch a torchlight procession. Hilde and I sat on Mummy’s bed and watched her get ready. She looked
so beautiful – like a mermaid in a long shimmery dress, her hair making little waves around her face. I helped her do up the clasp on her necklace and she pinned a cascade of silk flowers to the front of her dress. Papa clapped his hands when he saw her, and I don’t think she stopped smiling all evening.

We all gathered on the upstairs balconies to watch the procession. Children at the front. It was a really dark night. We could hear the band before we could see anything. We craned our necks to see the first torches. It was like a river of stars flowing into the street beneath us – as if we were looking down on the sky. The stars flowed on and on until they reached as far as the eye could see in both directions. Uncle Leader took my hand. “My favourite little German girl,” he said and squeezed it tightly. I felt so proud. He prefers me to Hilde!

Suddenly there was a huge bang and a great spray of fireworks lit up the sky. Silver, gold, red, green. Everyone cheered. Uncle Leader bent down to whisper to Papa. I remember Papa silencing the room with a shout, in order to call a toast for Mr. Speer who had designed the fireworks. His words echoed around the room and Mr. Speer bowed his head and smiled at the floor. Then the band started playing “Germany, Germany Above All” and we all sang at the tops of our voices. We are the greatest country in the world! Uncle Leader is laughing. Everyone is happy. Mummy and
Papa are standing together and smiling brightly, their faces pink with happiness.

I can remember marching up the stairs to bed that night, pretending I was carrying my own flaming torch, determined to keep it alight inside me for ever. Papa came back with us and stayed that night.