Opposite Sides (22 page)

“
I
’
m glad
you did.”

“
What?”

“
Stay.”

Robert told Hans that
while he was waiting, he remembered whistling one of the new catchy
tunes he had heard on the wireless. He had helped his father erect
the high aerial pole before Christmas and since then he’d been able
to sit close up to the small wireless amplifier and listen to a
popular music programme every Saturday night. He said he had been
thinking about inviting Hans over for an evening, when the door
re-opened, this time by Ellen.

“She took my scarf and
cap and put them down on the hall table and I was led into that
room you said had the war photo in it. Ellen left so I took the
liberty to sit down. That’s when I noticed Jan in the corner but
she pretended not to have seen me.”

“Ah, that’s Jan,”
commented Hans without offering any other explanation. He was sure
it had been Jan watching him and Heidi that evening when they were
walking in the moonlight and now he was enjoying Robert’s
experiences for he found it pleasing to realise he was not alone in
his feelings towards the pesky girl.

“
Then, Miss
Turner came in and wanted to know why I was here. All I could think
of was how much she reminded me of a heron waiting to snap up a
fish. And I was the bait!”

Hans laughed.

“
I’m
beginning to get used to it but never the less glad I’m pleased to
hear I’m not the only one who feels that way. So, what did you tell
her?”

“
Well, I said
we were going bicycling together.”

“
But I don’t
have one!” Hans exclaimed. “Miss Turner knows that. Or are you
suggesting I ride on your cross-bar?”

“
No. I told
her I’d brought another along one in the hope you
could
go.” Robert led
Hans round the corner of the building to the place where he had
rested the two cycles against the stone wall. “Then she wanted to
know where we’d be riding.” Hans ran his hand over the small metal
bicycle bell. “Try it, if you like,” Robert suggested as he began
tying his bag on the back of his bike. Hans rang the bell. It was
loud.

“Where do you suggest we
go?”

“
I suggest we
bicycle along some of the lanes . . the one leading to the pond,
through the village and back past
‘The
Cook’s Arms’.”

“
Sounds fine
by me,” Hans folded the bottoms of his trousers and secured them
with two cycle clips and then tried out each pedal to make sure
they rotated. As he did, he thought back to the conversation they
had had inside the house only a half hour ago. When Robert
mentioned they might take a rest at the village pub, he remembered
the mocking voice of Jan as she reminded him of his last escapade
with the boys.

You’re not
going to get drunk again are you, Hans Resmel
?

She had not been pleased
when he reminded her that it had nothing to do with her what he and
Robert decided to do. Jan had pouted her lips followed by an
adjustment of her glasses. His eyes had tried to read Jan’s
thoughts but she had flicked her hair and turned her head away from
them as she had stormed out of the room.

When the two had been
alone, just himself and Robert, Robert had stood up, pretending to
adjust his non-existent spectacles and had put on a high voice that
made him sound vaguely like the school mistress.

“
I won’t hear
of you two boys popping into the tavern. I’ve heard tales about
what young men like you get up to. It makes me shudder to think
what the young are coming to these days!”

They had both bent over
in laughter but it had been cut short when Miss Turner appeared.
Hans had not been as relieved as Robert when Miss Turner had sat
down in her favourite armchair as if she had not noticed their
laughter nor had heard a single word they had been saying. But Hans
noticed how Robert had fallen down on the edge of the sofa in
subdued silence with a look of guilt and shock clearly showing on
his face. Hans had managed to find a chair as far away from either
Robert or Miss Turner as he possibly could and he had tried to
think of anything other than Robert’s incredibly funny
impersonation.

“
Will you be
playing cricket for the college again this year, Mr Brinkwater?”
the school mistress had asked.

Robert had not been able
to answer until he had cleared his throat with a mighty cough and
splutter. When he did, his voice was broken and hoarse and sounded
more like a young rooster trying to crow for the first time than
the voice of a young man.

“
Yes, Miss
Turner,” he had finally said.

“
We’ve got
some very keen younger boys wanting to give it a go this season,”
Miss Turner had remarked.

Hans thought she had
appeared pleased to see that one of his friends had made plucked up
the courage and made the effort to come up to the house. Hans had
been even more surprised when Miss Turner had given her permission
for him to go out. She had even offered to get Ellen to make up a
picnic basket for them.

“
Well, off
you go, lad,” she had said. There was even a hint of rush and
excitement in her voice, something Hans had never before been
witness to. “Don’t just sit there,” she had told him. “Go and get
changed!” She had sent Mary to find him some bicycle clips so that
his trousers wouldn’t get caught in the chain.

When Hans had returned,
only Robert and Jan were in the room with Robert sitting once more
in uncomfortable silence. The very minute Hans had opened the door,
Jan had pounced like the feline she could be.

“
So you and
Robert are going bicycling, I see.” She adjusted her glasses and
looked around. It was clear she was upset. “It’s all right when
you’re not a girl around here!”

“
I don’t know
what you mean.”

Jan had shrugged her
shoulders and had fiddled with the lace cloth on the sideboard;
another indication that she was not pleased. Her next comment
confirmed his suspicions.

“
You know
Aunt won’t let me go bicycling. She still thinks it’s only a fit
pastime for men.”

The boys had not known
what to say. Hans had told Robert once before that Miss Turner had
kept her niece under lock and key very much like parents used to
before the war. But now things were different and young women had
new expectations and were beginning to stride out on their own and
take charge of their own lives.

Poor
Jan.
Hans had to admit
to himself that he did feel sorry for her,
sometimes
.

The
rest of the day was enjoyable and by the time
they returned, Hans felt as if his legs were made from jelly. His
thigh muscles were not used to that kind of exercise and he knew
that for a few days after they would feel stretched and
stiff.

It was as if
Jan had been spying on them, for the minute they rode up the drive,
she was there, standing in the exact same spot where Robert had
first parked the bicycles.
Jan walked
towards them.

“
I’ve just
heard Osbert Webster’s now got an auto-mobile. That’s much better
than a silly bike.”

“
Yes, I
know,” Robert replied. He began untying his bag. “His father bought
it for his birthday. Quite the rage, you know. To be able to get
behind a wheel. He’s promised me a go sometime. Says he can get it
up to forty-five miles an hour.”

“
That’s too
fast!” she exclaimed. “What if it should throw a wheel?”

“
It’s not a
horse, silly! Auto-mobiles do not throw wheels. They have bolts to
hold them on. As for speed, did you know that a good racehorse will
almost reach the speed of Osbert’s auto-mobile? But, one has more
control of an auto-mobile.”

Jan ignored that last
comment and changed the subject. Hans had picked up Robert’s bag
and had begun walking round to the back of the house and now it
seemed to Robert that Jan had her own agenda.

“
Are you
really the best of friends with Hans Resmel?” She pushed her
glasses right back hard against her nose and looked at Robert most
seriously and intently.

“
Of course.
Why do you ask?”

“
You don’t
care that he’s not English?” She concentrated on Robert’s reaction.
“You do realise they were our enemy not that long ago?”

Robert stiffened and
crunched his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw became
taught.

“
Were they?”
he asked nonchalantly. He shrugged his shoulders and looked her
right in the face. “Sorry, I seem to have forgotten.”

The wind was blown out of
Jan’s statement. Robert’s answer was not what she had
expected.

“
You don’t
think of him as . . . ,” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “As
a
Fritzy
then,
like William Showbry says?”

“
No, I don’t!
And I’m going to tell him what you’ve just said.” Robert was
beginning to show the inner anger he was feeling. “Never mind what
Showbry says. We can’t keep raking up the past. Isn’t time we
accepted each other and started enjoying ourselves?” he asked
sarcastically.

Jan backed
away.

“
Please,
don’t tell anyone. I didn’t mean it, really I didn’t.”

“
Then stop
listening to gossip!” Robert let it be known that her comments had
annoyed him. “We owe everything to all those who died and I do not
think they would want us to continue the pain. They’ve given us the
opportunity to be young. Something neither side was able to
experience. So, come on, Jan, have fun while you’re young enough to
enjoy it. I am sure those young men would wish you did.”

“
I wish I
could.” There was disappointment and resignation in her
voice.

“
Are you two
coming?” called Hans from around the corner. “Mary’s made us a
drink. She’s bringing it into the front room.”

As Robert and Jan joined
him, Hans was puzzled by Jan’s mood and wanted to know the
reason.

“
Everything!”
Jan shouted in his face. “Everything! This house . . . it exists in
the past. All the furniture is old. Aunt is old. She won’t let me
wear anything modern. She wouldn’t even let me go see
Polylanna
and Mary
Pickford is so pretty. It’s awful. I
have
to live in last century.” She flung her arms widely about as if
trying to wipe everything away. “Look around this room. There are
photos but they’re all old ones. And stacks of old postcards and
old letters. They’re all there in that drawer.” She pointed to the
sideboard where she had put the offending photograph. “My aunt
won’t throw out anything. She’s still living in a time before the
war. I live in a time capsule!”

“
Sorry.” That
was all Robert could think to say. He was feeling unsettled again
and was hoping that Hans would hurry up and make some excuse to
leave.

“
Nobody
understands me!” Jan cried. “Why can’t I be more like Anne. She’s
so twentyish. So modern!”

With that outburst, she
snatched up one of the small biscuits and stormed out of the room
without having taken a sip of her drink.

During the warm early
summer evenings, many of the boys met up in the town centre where
street entertainers performed. For the boys this was a draw-card
for watching groups of pretty young girls who were also spectators.
If they were lucky, there could arise an opportunity for some
conversation with one of those girls, for Hans and his friends had
come to the age where chatting with girls was far more enjoyable
than sitting over piles of dull text or exercise books.

One evening, Miss Turner
surprised them when she invited all the senior prefects up to the
house. As each prefect arrived, Mary took their coats and laid them
over furniture in the front room. Then, she directed each student
into the back room where the French doors had been opened into the
garden.

Robert Brinkwater and
Bertie Williams and Hans were sitting on some spare chairs that had
been brought outside.

“
This is a
bit of a surprise,” Robert folded his arms behind his head and
stretched out his legs to show how relaxed he could
appear.

“
I expect
Miss Turner is really quite sad that we’ll all be leaving as soon
as the exams are finished,” commented Bertie. “After the exams, of
course,” he added after a quiet pause of fifteen
seconds.

“
Is Loppy
coming?” Robert leaned upright and scanned the outskirts of the
garden as far as the gate that separated the house from the stone
school buildings.

“
Yes, I think
so,” said Bertie. “He told me earlier he thought he would be able
to spare the time. He’s been a study freak all year. Serious and
never with his nose out of a book. Mind you, with an old man like
he’s got, one would have to pull themselves up and do well in the
finals.”

“
I think he’s
afraid his allowance would be cut and he’d never get to Cambridge.”
Robert turned away from Bertie as Hans joined them. “Hello, old
chap. I was wondering when you’d come down.”