The World's Worst Mothers (21 page)

As the mothers were leaving Dune View later that evening, the wind was blowing hard. The sea was battering the jetty fiercely. New breakers kept rolling in and crashing onto the beach.

‘I wouldn't like to be out there just now,' said Sophie with a shudder.

‘You mean,
I
wouldn't,' said Bruno, who was feeling ill even at the thought of having to take the boat back to the mainland.

‘It'll have calmed down by tomorrow,' said Emily.

They were planning to spend the night in the WIMI and then catch the ferry home in the morning.

An eerie stillness greeted them when they came into the factory.

‘Where are they all, then?' asked Vibke Paulsen.

Kruschke was nowhere to be seen. The remains of the dolls were still lying around on the floor, and a walking stick lay near by.

‘Something has happened,' said Emily, running up the steps to Wohlfarth's office.

Wohlfarth sat slumped on a chair. Ramona Bottle stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder. Sven-Ole had a glass in his hand and was trying to get away from Henry the Fourth, who was hanging on with his teeth to Sven-Ole's trouser-leg. On a sofa, pale and with her eyes closed, lay old Frau Wohlfarth. Alfred, still swaying slightly, was bent over her, fanning her face.

‘Where's Kruschke?' asked Susie, who had followed the children.

‘He's done a runner,' said Sven-Ole. ‘When he regained consciousness, he got hold of the walking stick and smacked the old lady one on the noggin with it. Then he upped and left with his doll. Let go, you mucky little beast!' He shook his leg and the Pekinese finally let go of his trouser-leg.

‘Kruschke won't get far,' said Wohlfarth. ‘The coastguard has arrived and they've gone after his boat.'

‘She's opening her eyes,' said Alfred and bent again over his mistress. ‘Are you feeling better, Madam?'

Old Frau Wohlfarth sat up. ‘Alfred! You've been drinking! I can smell it.'

The phone on Wohlfarth's desk rang. He picked it up. ‘Yes, yes. Understood. Oh dear, well then, there's nothing to be done.' He hung up. ‘Kruschke's boat has disappeared without trace. In those seas, it has very likely capsized.'

Wohlfarth looked at Susie and raised his arms helplessly. ‘I didn't plan for any of this to happen. You have to believe me. All I wanted was to make children happy. First with my toys, and then by trying to turn bad mothers into better ones.' He sighed. ‘But I made a mess of it.'

‘As usual, boy,' said Frau Wohlfarth, who by now was standing, supported by Alfred (or perhaps it was Alfred who was supported by her) in front of her son. ‘Failed again.'

‘You wanted to make children happy because you had an unhappy childhood yourself, isn't that right?' said Susie softly.

Wohlfarth nodded, and a tear fell on the pile of questionnaires.

‘Poppycock! You lacked for nothing,' said his mother.

‘Not true,' said Wohlfarth. ‘I lacked the most important thing. Love.'

‘Love!' spat the old woman contemptuously. ‘Love is for softies.'

‘There is one thing I don't understand,' said Bruno. ‘Why did you pretend your mother was dead?'

‘And why did you say she was the best mother in the world?' said Emily.

‘Which she clearly is not,' added Sophie.

‘I wanted my mother to be proud of me,' said Wohlfarth quietly. ‘That's why I made up all that stuff about the bank in New York. And so that people wouldn't think it odd that she never came to see me, I told everyone on Nordfall that she was dead.'

He turned to the portrait of his mother. ‘I had that picture painted from a photo. I had to pay the painter extra because it took him so long to make her smile. And then I tried to imagine how my childhood might have been and I wrote it all up in my diary. A childhood with a mother who was loving, warm, clever and full of humour. And one who would always carry in her locket …' at this, he pointed at the gold medallion that the woman in the picture was wearing, ‘a lock of my baby hair.' He gave a sob.

‘And what is really in it?' Emily wanted to know.

‘Well, let's see,' said the old woman, opening the locket. A dirty grey clump of something was revealed, with a straggle of blue ribbon around it. ‘Henry the First's topnotch, of course.'

The next morning, the storm was over. Woolly white clouds drifted across a blue sky. The sands gleamed yellow. The fields and meadows were a soft green.

Wohlfarth's school for mothers was like a youth hostel where a visiting class was getting ready to go home. All animosity, quarrels, dramas big and small, had been forgotten. They were all united by the feeling of having survived a great challenge. On top of that was a mixture of sadness at parting and gladness at the thought of going home at last.

Suspicious Mum, who was checking all the lockers and cupboards to make sure no one had stolen her hairbrush, said, ‘I swear to God, I will never read my daughter's diary again. Except in an emergency, of course.'

Another mother was vowing to let her eleven-year-old son cycle to school, all by himself.

But Clingy Mum could only shake her head. ‘No, no. I will still take Timmy to school. But I'll let him go into the classroom by himself.'

They were outdoing each other in good intentions as they left the factory in high good spirits.

Vibke Paulsen, Ramona Bottle and Sven-Ole were at the gate, waiting to take leave of their students.

‘But where is Herr Wohlfarth?' asked Sophie's mother.

Red-eyed, Ramona Bottle was blowing her nose. ‘His mother took him to Hamburg early this morning,' she sniffled. ‘And she said she wouldn't let him out of her sight for a minute, because he would be sure to get up to some mischief.'

‘That woman really is a dragon,' said Vibke Paulsen. ‘I liked her better when she was dead.'

‘That reminds me,' said Sven-Ole. ‘What happens if you laugh yourself half to death twice?'

‘In future, you'll have to tell your jokes to someone else,' said Vibke Paulsen. ‘None of us will miss them, that's for sure.'

Susie took Ramona Bottle aside and said, ‘This is your chance, Ramona. Go to Hamburg and rescue him from the clutches of that woman. He will be eternally grateful to you.'

‘Do you really think so?'

Susie nodded. ‘I really think so. I may not have been a good student, and maybe I will never make a good mother, but I understand people. Well, goodbye now.'

And the mothers left for the jetty.

‘Do you think I should go to him?' said Ramona Bottle after the mothers had gone. ‘Do you think he needs me?'

‘Follow your heart,' said Vibke Paulsen.

Ramona didn't need telling a second time. She grabbed hold of a bike that was leaning against a wall and sped off in the direction of the harbour, her tyres squeaking, calling, ‘Walther, I'm on my way!'

Lührsen, Swantje and Hinnerk were standing outside Dune View, watching the chattering gaggle of women marching to the jetty.

‘Well, whatever sort of a place that WIMI was,' said the guesthouse owner, ‘it's a pity it doesn't exist any more. Who's going to eat my food now?'

Hinnerk nodded in agreement. ‘It's terrible. I caught a couple of fine fat fish this morning and all.'

The ferry from the mainland docked on the island, and no sooner had the ferryman thrown out the mooring rope than a horde of camera-bedecked men disembarked, pushed the mothers aside and started running towards Dune View.

‘Who the dickens are they?' asked Swantje, astonished.

‘Reporters,' said Lührsen. He knew a thing or two.

A reporter had shoved a microphone under his nose.

‘So, what do locals have to say about how you've been living for years with a murderer?'

‘What murderer?' asked Swantje, bemused.

‘He's wanted,' said another, fiddling about with his camera.

‘We heard it on the police radio channel. Someone on Nordfall has been farming artificial people, and apparently he drowned seventeen women in an old World War Two bunker.'

The guesthouse owner pointed to the ferry, which was just moving away from the harbour, tooting loudly.

The mothers were waving from the deck, and Hinnerk waved back.

‘Those are the women who are supposed to have been murdered,' he said. ‘Hale and hearty.'

‘But that's thanks to my Hinnerk here,' said Swantje proudly. ‘He saved them from drowning just in the nick of time.' She continued, even though her boss shot her a warning look. ‘There's a secret passage from our place to the bunker.'

A fat, sweating man pushed his way forward. ‘Could I see it?'

‘Me too!' cried the others.

‘Stop, stop!' Lührsen cried, spreading his arms defensively.

‘Only three people can visit the tunnel at a time. And it costs fifty euro a head. Lunch is included, but drinks are extra. A guided tour of the factory, in which the remains of the robots are to be seen, can also be arranged.'

Money was immediately produced, and the mob pushed its way into the bar.

Hinnerk grinned at Swantje. ‘I'll buy you a Coke this evening,' he promised. ‘I think there will be takers for my fish after all.'

The voyage back to the mainland was almost disappointingly uneventful.

Bruno sat beside his mother. She asked him excitedly, ‘Do you know what day it is today?'

‘Yes, of course. It's the nineteenth of June. Why do you ask?'

‘Because today is a special day, a historic date,' Bruno's mother crowed.

‘Because we're going home, you mean?'

‘No, darling. On the nineteenth of June 1936, Max Schmeling knocked out his opponent, Joe Louis, in the second round. This is how …'

She told him the whole story of the boxing match in such detail, and she made it sound so exciting, that for the first time ever he was not seasick on a boat.

Emily and her mother did not say much to each other during the crossing. They had said most of what they had to say during the night, and now they just watched the seagulls that were following the ferry.

‘I wish I could have a holiday here with you,' Susie said. ‘But without having to go to school, of course.'

‘Do you know what?' said Emily. ‘I'd rather we went to the mountains for our holiday. I've had enough of the sea.'

Nicholas and Sophie were standing at the railing, feeding the seagulls with the bread rolls Vibke Paulsen had packed for their lunch.

‘It's just as well I went away,' said Sophie's mother to Bruno's mother. ‘Those two have totally changed. They're the best of friends.'

But just then, Sophie suddenly screeched, ‘Put that thing down! Get rid of it right now!'

Nicholas crowed, ‘It's going to bite you. It's going to pinch you on the nose.' He was waving a dead crab in her face.

‘I suppose it was too good to be true,' said Sophie's mother with a sigh.

‘I'm dying to hear what my husband will say when he finds out he has been living with a doll for days,' Bruno's mother speculated. ‘Typical man, doesn't take a bit of notice as long as his dinner is on the table every evening.'

‘You're lucky,' said Clingy Mum. ‘Your aunts are gone. We still have to get rid of ours.'

‘Just show them the door,' said Bruno. ‘Or you could keep them. They are great cleaners.'

‘But they're useless at reading stories,' Nicholas chipped in.

‘Mummy will read to you now,' his mother said to him.

Nicholas shook his head.

‘No, Sofa will read to me. She's much better at it than you.'

Sophie's mother smiled a bitter little smile. ‘I seem to be quite superfluous.'

‘That's right,' said Sophie. ‘We got on just fine without you.'

But then she elbowed her mother in the ribs. ‘I'm glad you're coming home all the same. I had nobody to fight with.'

When they got to Südersiel it was time to say goodbye. Some of them boarded the train. Others got into their cars.

Susie offered to drive Sophie, Nicholas and their mother to Hamburg.

But when she saw the tiny, rusty car with its bashed-in door, Sophie's mother shook her head. ‘No, thanks; it would be a bit tight. We'll go with Earth Mother. She has a Land Rover. There's more room.'

‘Oh, very green, a car like that,' said Bruno who was just saying goodbye to Sophie and Emily.

‘How are we going to keep in touch?' asked Emily.

‘We can email each other,' said Sophie.

‘I have a better idea,' said Bruno. ‘We can use Wohlfarth's website. You know,
www.worldsworstmothers.eek
. He doesn't need it any more. We can use the message board and we can all keep in touch that way.'

‘We'll never know now which of us would have won first prize.'

‘How do you mean, first prize?' asked Emily.

‘The one with the world's worst mother was supposed to win a four-week, mother-free holiday on an island.'

‘Oh, yes, I'd forgotten,' said Emily.

‘Well, only one person could win that prize,' said Bruno, ‘and that is Wohlfarth himself.'

‘I wonder what will become of him,' said Emily. ‘Maybe he will move back into his old room at home and get shouted at every day.'

‘Yes, and he'll have to brush Henry the Fourth's hair.'

‘I'm much more concerned about what is going to become of us,' said Bruno. ‘I'd also like to know if Wohlfarth has actually managed to improve our mothers.'

‘Come on, Bruno!' called his mother. ‘Our train is leaving any minute.'

Bruno gave Sophie his hand and she shook it vigorously.

‘Ouch!' cried Bruno suddenly. ‘My finger!'

‘Oh, I'm sorry,' said Sophie. ‘I just wanted to say thanks, because … well, if it hadn't been for you, Bruno, there'd have been a catastrophe.'

‘You're a good boxer,' said Nicholas. ‘I have a present for you.'

He pulled the dead crab carefully out of his pocket. He was missing a claw, and he didn't smell too good.

‘Thank you, Nicholas,' said Bruno, taking the crab. ‘It will remind me of you.'

Then Sophie and Nicholas and their mother got into Earth Mother's big car, and off they sped.

Bruno waved at Sophie one last time and then went with his mother to the railway station.

Susie got into the driver's seat of her little car, and Emily tried, in vain, to open the passenger door. It was still stuck, naturally. At last she managed it and almost fell on her bottom.

‘I'll have it fixed tomorrow,' said her mother, when Emily was in the car at last. ‘I promise.'

‘As long as we have enough petrol,' said Emily.

Her mother turned on the engine and checked the petrol gauge.

‘No worries. We have enough to get home and back, twice.'

They got twenty kilometres before the car stopped in the middle of the road. Luckily, a farmer on a tractor came trundling by and towed the car to the next petrol station.

‘I don't think the school for mothers did me much good,' said Susie miserably.

‘You're dead right,' said Emily, and then she started to laugh.