The Birds and the Bees? 13 May 2014, 140 x 140

What? Somebody had gifted him a flowering sponge plant? What was a sponge plant anyway? Somebody else had poked him. There were three friend requests and somebody called Alicia had changed her status. What was the point of this facewhatyoumathingy? It didn’t make sense to him. Then they’d said he should go on Twitter as well and tweet. That was for the birds wasn’t it? How would he find that?

“Just start typing it, in Dad,” said Rex. “The computer knows.”
That’s what scared him most of the time. How much the darned machine seemed to know without him having told it.

“I set up your account, Dad.” Rex leant over and typed something.
George’s face appeared on the screen. Three followers. And there on the right. Who to follow. Gloria Davies. Who’d have thought it?

Damn machine!

Bless it.

14 March 1900, Berlin: trams

 

“We’ve been learning about Berlin today at school,” said Leo. “Our teacher said there are lots of  interesting buildings in Berlin.”
 

“She did, did she?” said Clara. “And do you think she’s right?”
Leo shrugged. “Berlin is Berlin,” he said.
 

“Oh it is, is it?” Clara could not believe that her son was so blinkered. This big vibrant city still fascinated her. Mecklenburg was big by some standards but Berlin. Berlin was Berlin. Leo
was right there. But Berlin was a miracle and he couldn’t see that? Clara looked at the clock. It was not quite four. It would be light for a while yet. Imelda was busy in the kitchen. Käthe was still asleep. She could ask the maid to keep an eye on the child.They could be back in time for supper.
 

“Go to the lavatory and don’t forget to wash your hands,” she said to her son. “I’m just going to have a word with Imelda. Get your coat on. We’re going out.”
 

“Mutti?”
 

“Go on. Do as I say,” said Clara.
 

“Frau Lehrs, I’m very busy today,” said Imelda. “I don’t know that I’ll have time.”
 

“Look, we won’t be long. Fräulein Lehrs is still asleep. Rudi’s out with Nanny. Just look on her now and then. And if she wakes up, she’ll probably come and find you anyway.”
 

“Yes, ma’am. It’s just that…”
 

“Yes. I know. She can be difficult. Look, we’ll give you a bonus this week. And you can have an extra hour off on Sunday. Will that do?”
 

“Yes, ma’am. Very well, ma’am.”
 

It was clear that the young woman would do anything for more cash. Well, good. Käthe would be fine. She liked Imelda. And so what if supper was a bit late. Ernst wouldn’t mind. Not if his son was being educated properly.
 

“Why are we going out?” asked Leo.
 

“We’re going on an adventure,” said Clara. “And how would you like to go on one of the new electric trams? We’re going to ride the tram. We are from another planet and we’ve just arrived on Earth. And we’re going to see this beautiful city called Berlin.”
 

Leo clapped his hands. He had never been on a tram before. He walked to school. They walked to most places in fact but if they ever needed to go further afield Ernst would hire a carriage. Clara felt as excited as their little boy looked. She pulled her cloak over her shoulders and they were off.
It was a short walk to the Kurfürstendamm and there was already a tram at the nearest stop.
 

“Here we go then,” said Clara, holding Leo’s hand as they both climbed on.
 

“We want to go to the terminus,” said Clara as the conductor came for the fare. “Return, please.”
 

The young man nodded and gave Clara two tickets. A middleaged man gave her his seat and Clara sat down, pulling Leo on to her lap.
 

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Unwashed bodies, she suspected.
 

“Mutti, what’s that funny sm—?” Leo began to say.
 

“Look,” said Clara, distracting him. She pointed to a tram
going the other way. “Isn’t it amazing that these carriages go on their own with no horse to pull them? And do you know whatmakes them work?”
 

“Lectricy,” said Leo.
 

“And what is that, young man?” asked Clara.
 

Leo shrugged.
 

She wasn’t sure either. They’d just have to ask Ernst that evening.
 

“Oh and look,” said Clara. She pointed up at the building they were passing. “Aren’t they tall? And look at how the glass shines in the windows. Oh, and all those elegant ladies and gentlemen
walking along the streets. Look we’re going faster than the carriages pulled by horses.”
 

“How old is he?” said a young woman who had sat down next to them.
 

“Six. He’s just six.”
 

“Well he is so interested in everything, bless him. I wish my young’uns would appreciate half as much in the world. You’ve got a good’un there missus. What’s your name, young man?”
 

Leo shied away from the woman.
 

“Leo. His name’s Leo,” said Clara.
 

“Well, Master Leo,” said the woman. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your tram ride. I’ll have to love you and leave you. This is my stop coming up. Good evening to you.”
 

“Say goodbye to the lady,” whispered Clara, kissing Leo’s head.
 

Leo half smiled and waved shyly at the woman. She winked back.
 

Gradually more and more people left the tram. Finally they were the only passengers. The tram made a last stop.
 

“We have to get off here,” said Clara.
 

“Why?” said Leo.
 

“It’s the terminus.”
 

“What’s that?”
 

“Where the rails end. Look. Watch what happens.”
 

The driver got out of the tram and moved to the other end. The conductor made his way along tilting the backs of the seats so that they faced the other way.
 

“Oh,” said Leo. “He’s changed them round.”
 

“Yes. So that people can see where they’re going. We’ll get back on in a minute and go all the way back home.”
 

Ten minutes later the tram was taking them back towards their home. There weren’t so many people on now and Leo had a seat all to himself. He pressed his nose up against the window. It was beginning to get dark and the windows in the buildings that lined  the wide street were lit up but the shutters had not yet been put into place. They could see right into the apartments and offices.
 

“Can’t you see what a beautiful city we live in?” said Clara.
 

Leo nodded.
 

“Good,” said Clara. “You can tell your teacher all about that tomorrow.”
 

Ernst had already arrived home when they got back.
 

“Vati, we’ve been on a tram,” said Leo. “All along the Ku’damm.”
 

“A tram?” said Ernst. “All along the Ku’damm. My goodness we do have some style these days.” He raised his eyebrows and looked at Clara. But there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Clara shrugged. “He needed to get to know the city. It was the quickest way.”
 

“I should think so too. A truly splendid idea. You should makea habit of it.”
 

“Why can’t I go on a tram?” Käthe was scowling at them.
 

Clara laughed and bent down to kiss her little daughter on the head. “You shall, my love. Once you are six as well and you don’t need your afternoon nap.”
 

“It’s not fair. Leo gets all the fun.”
 

“Oh Käthe, you must be patient,” said Ernst. He bent down and picked her up. “You’ll grow up soon enough.”

Clara's Story: 22 July 1899, The Black Forest: crucifix

 

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.

Clara's Story Hanukah 1891, Mecklenburg: a phase begins

 

“My, that all looks fine,” said Mama. “You girls have done well. I’m sure Papa’s associates will be impressed.”

Clara smiled to herself. Yes, they had worked hard and the drawing-room sparkled. The candlelight reflected backwards and forwards in the mirrors. It was getting dark outside and the warm glow defied the winter gloom.

Käthe giggled. “Do you think Clara will find a beau?”

Clara glowered at her younger sister. “Enough, young lady. Any more of that and I won’t pin your hair up for you, nor lend you the peach silk.”

“Really, Käthe, you mustn’t tease you sister like that.” Lotte spoke quietly as usual. Her fine blonde hair was already neatly pinned up and she looked much older than her fourteen years. Thank goodness, though, there was a smile in her deep blue eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve got a friend who is sensible,” said Clara.

“Well, it’s about time,” said Käthe.

 “Clara will find someone to love when she is good and ready,” said Mama. It was obvious she was trying not to laugh.

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, that’s the first of them here. Girls, go and get ready. Then you’ll be in time to greet them all at supper after they’ve finished their business meeting.

 

“How do you manage to get your hair to stay so neat all of the time?” Clara asked Lotte. “It’s so fine. Our hair is much sturdier. Yet we can’t get it to stay put.”

“I guess it’s because I keep practising,” Lotte replied. “I pin it up every day now.”

Clara hugged the younger girl. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry to grow up. Enjoy being young.”

She moved back to her sister whose hair was only half done. “I do wish I could get your hair to behave,” she said as she tried to brush the knots out. “What do you do to it?”

The doorbell rang again. Käthe jumped up from her seat and ran over to the window. She peered through the drapes. “Goodness, look at that funny man,” she said. “He’s all bent.”

“Käthe!” said Clara. “It’s rude to stare at people less fortunate than ourselves.” She couldn’t help looking herself, though. Four more young men had arrived. One of them was walking up the path with a limp. She could see that although he was quite young he had a huge hump on his back and his legs were bowed. It made him look much shorter than the others.

“Come on, then,” said Käthe, rushing back to her seat. “Let’s finish getting ready and get downstairs to meet them. Some of them look quite handsome.”

Lotte sighed and raised her eyebrows.

 

One hour later they were downstairs. The noise of people talking came from the drawing-room. Clara opened the door and could see straight away that all her other brothers and sisters were there already as well as about ten of her father’s business associates. Papa was talking to the young man with the deformed back. He signalled to Clara that they should join him.

“Doctor Lehrs,” he said. May I present my daughters, Clara and Käthe, and their friend, Lotte. Ladies, this is my very good associate, Ernst Lehrs.”

Two smiling brown eyes looked into Clara’s and she knew that the second phase of her life had begun.

 

Clara's Story: 15 July 1883, Mecklenburg: Sunday best

 

Clara looked out of the drawing-room window to the street below. They were there again, the same as every Sunday. The three little girls looked so pretty in their summer dresses. The older girl – Clara guessed she must be the same age as herself – and the two boys who looked like her own older brothers, Wilhelm and Rupert, were walking behind them, making sure that the little ones kept up with the rest. There were three younger boys who walked right behind the parents.

“They’re exactly like us,” said Clara.

“Except that they’re not,” said Wilhelm. “They’re Christians and we’re Jews.”

“What difference does that make?” asked Clara.

Rupert sighed. “A lot, Clarachen.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m nearly twelve and then I shall be a grown-up.”

Rupert tutted. “Well grow up then. They’re on their way home from church. They go to church on Sunday and we go to the synagogue on Saturday. They have a day of rest on Sunday and we have ours on Saturday.”

“But they dress like us and I expect they eat the same food. I expect their mama is as nice as ours. And there are nine of them, like there are nine of us. We could each have a friend.”

Mama put down her sewing. “They might not want to be friends with us.”

“Why ever not?”

Mama and Papa exchanged a glance. Papa nodded. “She’s right. She will be grown-up soon.”

“All right. Come with me, you big girl, you.” Mama stood up and slipped her arm around Clara’s waist. “You can help me make some tea and I’ll explain it all to you.”

As they set off down the stairs Mama whispered, “I didn’t want the little ones to hear this yet.”

They heard a scream from outside and then a child howling. Clara knew it was one of the little girls. She ran down the stairs and opened the front door.

Yes, there was one of them lying on the ground, screaming. Blood was streaming from cuts on her head and her leg. The mother and an older girl, about the same age as Clara, were bending down trying to comfort her. The others were looking on helplessly.

“Oh, Mama, we must help her,” said Clara. She rushed over to the family. “Will you come inside? We can bathe her leg and her head.”

The two mamas exchanged a look.

“Please,” said Clara. “She can’t walk home like that.”

The Christian lady looked at her husband.

“It’s true,” he said. “Perhaps you should stay here with her. I’ll take the others home and come back with the carriage.” He turned to Mama and Clara. “This is so very kind of you,” he said.

“I am Frau Hellerman,” said the lady, “and this is my daughter, Lotte, and her sister, Melissa.”

“Frau Loewenthal. Clara.” Mama was already helping Frau Hellerman to get Lotte on to her feet. “Come on young lady. We’ll soon get you sorted out.”

Lotte managed to limp into the kitchen and Mama lifted her up on to a stool. She filled a bowl with warm water. She gently dabbed the wounds on the little girl’s knee and forehead. “I hope it’s not stinging too much.”

Lotte shook her head. “I’ve spoilt my dress, though.”

“She should put some salt on it, shouldn’t she?” said Clara. “Won’t it stop it staining?”

Mama nodded. Clara fetched the krug and sprinkled salt on the stains.

“You see,” whispered Frau Hellerman. “Frau Loewenthal and Clara are taking good care of you.”

A few moments later Lotte was completely cleaned up.

“Would you like some tea?” said Mama. “Clara and I were about to make some. And Lotte, I think we might find some lemonade for you.”

Lotte smiled.

The door opened. Papa walked in. “There you are. And I see we have some visitors.”

Mama did the introductions.

“You have all been so kind,” said Frau Hellerman.

Clara helped Lotte hobble up into the lounge. Käthe brought one of her dolls for her to play with while they waited for Herr Hellerman.

“This really is kind of you,” said Frau Hellerman. “I’m sure my husband won’t be long. I’m so glad – well I’m so glad the law is on your side now.”

“Yes, it is easier these days,” said Mama.

Clara wished she understood. Lotte and Käthe looked so similar and were obviously enjoying playing together.

“Ah. It looks as if your husband has arrived,” said Papa. “I’ll go and greet him.”

“Can Käthe and I be friends?” Lotte kissed the doll and handed it back to Käthe.

Mama and Frau Herllerman exchanged a glance. Mama nodded. “You are welcome in our home any time, my dear.”

“Come, let us find Papa,” said Frau Hellerman. She smiled at Clara and Mama. “I’m so glad you’ve found a new friend.”

 

“What did Frau Hellerman mean about the law being on our side now?” Clara asked Wilhelm later.

“It’s not always been easy for Jews,” her brother replied. “A lot of people don’t like us. But now the law says we have to be treated like any other citizen.”

This was so difficult to understand. They were like everybody else, weren’t they? So why did they need a law to make them the same as everyone else?

“Is it because we don’t believe Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah? Is that why people don’t like us?”

Wilhelm laughed. “It’s not that simple, actually. You’ll understand one day. Listen. You’re in the first stage of your life. Enjoy it and don’t worry so much.” He turned and left the room.

It was so annoying. Why did they all treat her like a child? She was almost twelve and would have to pin her hair up soon.

 

Clara's Story 8 October 1918, Berlin: The end of a phase

Clara shuddered. It was one of those strange uncontrollable little movements. Her mother used to say it meant someone was walking over your grave. What did that mean, actually though? They were walking over where you were going to be buried? How would you know now? It was nonsense really but she had no better or even any other explanation for it. It wasn’t as if it was cold in the kitchen: the Kackelofen was lit and the sun was streaming through the window.

She put the rest of yesterday’s birthday cake away. Ernst had insisted she should celebrate her birthday despite his illness. She’d baked one of her special cheesecakes but nobody had had much appetite for it. It would keep a few days, she guessed. Perhaps when he was feeling better they would all appreciate it more.

 She looked at the clock. He should have called for his tea by now. It was half an hour past the normal time. She’d looked in on him earlier. He’d been sound asleep. Doctor Friedrich had said it was good to let him sleep. Perhaps she should go and look in on him again.

The doctor hadn’t really given a clear diagnosis. “It’s a combination of things, Frau Lehrs,” he’d said. “His worry about this war has weakened him. The rickets has got worse. And now this chest infection…”

“That shouldn’t kill a man, though, should it, Herr Doctor? He will recover won’t he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say. He’s still quite young but you know this terrible war has taken its toll. It’s made men even younger than him want to give up. I’m sorry I can’t give you any better news.”

Damn men and their wars.  Clara made her way towards her husband’s room. So many men killed on both sides and so many left with half-lives. And now they were all so poor. It wasn’t so bad for them as for some of the people who worked in Ernst’s factory. But they had had to cut Imelda’s hours in order to pay for the nurse.

The door to Ernst’s room was flung open. Schwester Adelberg rushed out. “Frau Lehrs, you must come quickly,” she cried.

Clara hurried into the bedroom.

Ernst’s breathing was laboured. His chest was rattling.

“Should we send for the doctor?” said Clara. But she could tell from the look on the nurse’s face that it was too late.

“You must say your goodbyes,” Schwester Adelberg whispered guiding her gently towards the bed.

Clara knelt down beside her husband and put her face next to his. She took his hand. He was trying to speak but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Yellow bile streamed from his nose and seeped from the corners of his mouth and his eyes. He tried to push the sheets and blankets away.

“Does he have a fever?”

“It’s the blood rushing to his vital organs, trying to save them. His lungs are filling. That sound you hear is them working to expel the fluid but it has gone too far now.”

“Is – is he in pain?”

“He’s probably not comfortable and he’s very likely afraid and lonely. Talk to him.”

“Ernst – Ernst, my love. Don’t leave me yet. It’s too soon.”

Schwester Adelberg touched her shoulder. “There’s nothing more we can do,” she whispered. “Try to comfort him.”

Clara stroked his arm. “I’m here my darling. It will be all right. Sleep gently. You’ll soon have no more pain.”

He looked at once like a child and a man forty years older. Her father had not looked this frail when he’d died. Ernst’s poor body was a twisted wreck. But it had been like that all of his life and he’d done so much despite his disability. She stroked his hair.

He relaxed a little. He took one final breath and the rattle in his chest stopped. His faced changed and he looked peaceful. Yet at the same time he looked like a piece of paper. His lips and cheeks were grey. Yes, the life had gone out of him. That wasn’t her Ernst anymore. Even so she leant over and kissed his forehead. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” she whispered.

She knelt for a few more minutes holding his hand and then she stood up. “We’d better get the doctor here to sign a death certificate,” she said.

“I’m happy to stay and lay him out properly after the doctor’s visit,” said Schwester Adelberg.

“Thank you.”

“And would you like me to help with the arrangements?”

“That would be very kind. Now, I’d better go and let the children know.”

As Clara made her way down the stairs she realised that another phase of her life had ended.