busy when I spoke to her. Wrapping up a documentary she’s been filming in Berlin. She asked me to give you both her love.’
‘We knew she was in Berlin. Let me take your coat, Mother.’ Marilyn opened the hall cupboard and took out a hanger in readiness.
‘I’m flying to Germany tomorrow.’
‘You’re staying with Erich and Ulrike for the summer?’ There was an edge to Jeremy’s voice. He didn’t want his mother to stay in his house, but he had always disliked her spending time with Erich. Charlotte wondered if her sons would ever get over their childhood jealousy of one another. Then she recalled the rivalry between her and Greta, which had been no different and, if anything, even more bitter. And still was, thought Charlotte, if she was honest. At least on Greta’s side …
‘No, Jeremy, I am not spending the summer with your brother. But I intend to pay Erich a fleeting visit before going on to see Laura in Berlin. From there we’re flying to Warsaw.’
‘Poland? Whatever for?’ Jeremy demanded.
‘I still think of the north-east of the country as East Prussia, but then I’m a foolish old woman who occasionally prefers to live in the past than the present.’
‘Please, go in, Mother.’ Jeremy stood back to allow her to walk ahead, and she preceded him into the living room.
Jeremy had recently retired from the army, but the change from military to civilian life had made little impact. Thirty years of living in officers’ married quarters had given him and Marilyn a taste for the bland, solid, functional furniture the army provided for the use of senior brass and their families. The room was a carbon copy of the ones they had occupied during Jeremy’s postings and he had dutifully sent her photographs of every Christmas. Needing the luxury of her own space, Charlotte chose to sit on one of the easy chairs.
‘Eastern Europe is a dangerous place, Mother.’
‘You’re usually the first to point out how the press sensationalize every situation, Jeremy. Besides, Laura is coming with me.’
‘Laura can hardly look after herself, much less anyone else,’ he snapped.
‘She seems to have survived quite well on her own for the past few years, as well as make quite a name for herself as a producer of quality documentaries.’
‘But you’ll be two women alone. An obvious and easy target for criminals. And really, why go at all when there is no pressing need? Especially at your age, Mother.’
‘You think I should be knitting socks in an old folks’ home instead of visiting the country I grew up in?’
‘I had forgotten how flippant you can be. I must protest –’
‘Looks like your protests will have to wait, Jeremy. Isn’t that your doorbell?’
Marilyn rose from the sofa. ‘It’s Aunt Greta. I thought, as you two hadn’t seen one another for years, that I’d organize a surprise reunion.’
‘A surprise for me or Greta, or both of us?’ Charlotte questioned.
‘Marilyn told her that you were coming yesterday,’ Jeremy revealed. ‘We didn’t want it to be too much of a shock. You know she has a weak heart.’
‘She’s always had one, Jeremy.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Hadn’t you better let her in?’ Charlotte steeled herself.
Her fragile relationship with her sister had passed breaking point shortly after the end of the war. The last occasion she had been in Greta’s company she had found it extremely difficult to check her temper, and when she’d had time to mull over the things her sister had said and done then, she’d wondered why she had even bothered to try.
Chapter Three
‘Good evening.’
Greta sailed into Jeremy’s hall, her husband John dutifully trailing in her wake, just as he had done all their married life.
Jeremy kissed his aunt’s cheek. ‘Please, allow me to take your coat, Aunt Greta.’
‘Thank you, Jeremy; it’s good to know that chivalry isn’t quite dead.’ She handed him her scarf and stood still, arms extended, so he could remove
‘We knew she was in Berlin. Let me take your coat, Mother.’ Marilyn opened the hall cupboard and took out a hanger in readiness.
‘I’m flying to Germany tomorrow.’
‘You’re staying with Erich and Ulrike for the summer?’ There was an edge to Jeremy’s voice. He didn’t want his mother to stay in his house, but he had always disliked her spending time with Erich. Charlotte wondered if her sons would ever get over their childhood jealousy of one another. Then she recalled the rivalry between her and Greta, which had been no different and, if anything, even more bitter. And still was, thought Charlotte, if she was honest. At least on Greta’s side …
‘No, Jeremy, I am not spending the summer with your brother. But I intend to pay Erich a fleeting visit before going on to see Laura in Berlin. From there we’re flying to Warsaw.’
‘Poland? Whatever for?’ Jeremy demanded.
‘I still think of the north-east of the country as East Prussia, but then I’m a foolish old woman who occasionally prefers to live in the past than the present.’
‘Please, go in, Mother.’ Jeremy stood back to allow her to walk ahead, and she preceded him into the living room.
Jeremy had recently retired from the army, but the change from military to civilian life had made little impact. Thirty years of living in officers’ married quarters had given him and Marilyn a taste for the bland, solid, functional furniture the army provided for the use of senior brass and their families. The room was a carbon copy of the ones they had occupied during Jeremy’s postings and he had dutifully sent her photographs of every Christmas. Needing the luxury of her own space, Charlotte chose to sit on one of the easy chairs.
‘Eastern Europe is a dangerous place, Mother.’
‘You’re usually the first to point out how the press sensationalize every situation, Jeremy. Besides, Laura is coming with me.’
‘Laura can hardly look after herself, much less anyone else,’ he snapped.
‘She seems to have survived quite well on her own for the past few years, as well as make quite a name for herself as a producer of quality documentaries.’
‘But you’ll be two women alone. An obvious and easy target for criminals. And really, why go at all when there is no pressing need? Especially at your age, Mother.’
‘You think I should be knitting socks in an old folks’ home instead of visiting the country I grew up in?’
‘I had forgotten how flippant you can be. I must protest –’
‘Looks like your protests will have to wait, Jeremy. Isn’t that your doorbell?’
Marilyn rose from the sofa. ‘It’s Aunt Greta. I thought, as you two hadn’t seen one another for years, that I’d organize a surprise reunion.’
‘A surprise for me or Greta, or both of us?’ Charlotte questioned.
‘Marilyn told her that you were coming yesterday,’ Jeremy revealed. ‘We didn’t want it to be too much of a shock. You know she has a weak heart.’
‘She’s always had one, Jeremy.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Hadn’t you better let her in?’ Charlotte steeled herself.
Her fragile relationship with her sister had passed breaking point shortly after the end of the war. The last occasion she had been in Greta’s company she had found it extremely difficult to check her temper, and when she’d had time to mull over the things her sister had said and done then, she’d wondered why she had even bothered to try.
Chapter Three
‘Good evening.’
Greta sailed into Jeremy’s hall, her husband John dutifully trailing in her wake, just as he had done all their married life.
Jeremy kissed his aunt’s cheek. ‘Please, allow me to take your coat, Aunt Greta.’
‘Thank you, Jeremy; it’s good to know that chivalry isn’t quite dead.’ She handed him her scarf and stood still, arms extended, so he could remove
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