Clara took a deep breath. She didn’t think she would be sick but she couldn’t be sure. She’d felt like this before – with both Leo and Käthe and all the miscarriages. She’d never actually been sick. There was this constant nausea. She needed to have some taste in her mouth all of the time.
She was fairly certain she was expecting another child. She’d missed her monthly bleeding twice and her breasts had become tender. And yet again, she couldn’t drink tea or coffee.
She hadn’t said anything to Ernst. She didn’t want him to get his hopes up. She would wait another couple of months at least. And she ought to get out of this heat. If there was a baby it surely wouldn’t be good for him or her.
Where, though? It was too far to walk back to the hotel. The sun would be beating down upon them all the way. All the cafés looked full.
There was a church on the opposite side of the square. It looked quite pretty from the outside and she could see that the front door was open.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go and have a look inside.” She took Leo’s hand.
“I thought we didn’t go to church,” said Leo. “I thought we only went to the synagogue.”
“We’re not going to pray. We’re only going to have a look at the fine building and the lovely pictures and stained glass windows. It’s a Saturday so there won’t be a service going on.”
“So why don’t we go to the synagogue?”
“Because we’re on holiday.”
Ernst had thought about going but then had thought better of it. The nearest one was in the next town, some fifteen kilometres away. He’d decided to stay at the hotel and read. Then he would be there when Käthe woke up from her nap and maybe he and the nanny would set out to meet Clara and Leo.
It was gloomy inside the church. The colours on the windows were quite dark and the sunshine had been so bright outside. But Clara’s eyes soon adjusted and she became aware of the way the light streamed through the windows and created interesting patterns on the floor and the walls. “Isn’t it lovely?” she whispered. One or two people were praying. They’d better not speak too loudly.
Leo nodded. “They’re like fairy-angels,” he said.
She couldn’t think where he’d got the idea of fairies or angels from, but she knew what he meant.
He gripped her hand more tightly, screamed loudly and buried his head in her dress. He sobbed uncontrollably.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” She tried to push him away from her so that she could look at him. People were beginning to stare. But he clung on to her all the more tightly. She held him close until the sobbing stopped. Fortunately he had his head buried so deeply into her clothing that he probably couldn’t be heard. Then she felt him relax. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
He turned away from her and pointed at the huge wooden cross with a life-size representation of Jesus Christ on it. The figure was well-carved, though the face was ugly. Blood appeared to trickle from beneath the crown of thorns and four huge nails pierced the man’s hands and feet.
“Come on. Let’s go,” said Clara. “Perhaps we can find an ice-cream on the way back. As long as you promise you’ll eat all of your lunch.” What were these Christians thinking of, making such a display as that?
As they left the church she held his hand tightly and she could feel that he was still trembling. He hiccoughed every now and then as if he was still crying but didn’t want to show it.
As soon as they were out in the sunshine a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She felt dizzy. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered to Leo. “I’m sorry darling.” She quickly walked to the side of the church and found a convenient bush behind which she vomited.
“Mutti,” whimpered Leo, holding on to her skirts.
A kind lady and gentleman fetched her a glass of water and offered to take her back to the hotel in their carriage. She nodded her agreement.
“Mutti, what’s the matter? Are you poorly?”
“No, I’m fine, sweetheart. I think you’re going to have a new brother or sister soon. This happens to ladies sometimes when they’re going to have a baby.”
Leo smiled through his tears. At least he seemed to have forgotten the horror of the crucifix. That was something.
“You should have told me,” said Ernst later after the excitements of the day were over, the children were in bed and the nanny was off duty.
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up again.”
Ernst tutted. “But if it’s making you unwell I need to know. And if you do have another miscarriage I want to be there to help you through it.” He kissed her softly on the head.
She remembered the incident with the carving. “There’s something else as well. Leo was so frightened inside the church.”
“Oh?”
She told Ernst all about how he had reacted to the representation of the crucifixion.
“If it was that life-like he probably thought he was looking at a real body. Or a person still alive who was being horribly tortured. I shouldn’t worry. He’ll get over it. He’s pleased anyway about the baby. And so – he’s hoping for a brother.”
They both laughed when they remembered what he’d said. “I hope it’s a boy. Käthe’s no good for playing with.”
Clara had a feeling that this baby might be all right after all.
