Tall Poppies (7 page)

The prefects duly raised their hands with prepared questions about sporting behaviour and it being the taking part that counted. Wolf answered them in an equally pat manner and waited for the attractive blonde to speak. He was slightly disappointed that she did not. After a few minutes Geller thanked him to a fresh round of applause and dismissed the school.

5x

‘Many thanks, Herr Wolf. I’m sure that was very instructive for our young ladies,’ Geller was saying.

Wolf picked up his notes and thrust them back into his jacket. ‘My pleasure, Herr Geller.’

‘I hope I can persuade you to stay for lunch. The school maintains an excellent cook …’ Geller began obsequiously.

Wolf suppressed a shiver of dislike and was starting to decline when he felt a small tug on his sleeve.

‘And what do you want, young lady?’ Herr Geller snapped, annoyed at being interrupted.

‘I’d like to ask Herr Wolf a question,’ Elizabeth said nervously.

Wolf turned to see the girl from the front row. Close ‘up, she was even prettier and she had a lean, fit figure.

‘You had a chance during the talk, Lady Elizabeth.’

Herr Geller was never too sharp with an carl’s daughter. ‘Well yes, sir, I know, but this isn’t about the talk.’ ‘Don’t worry, Herr Geller, I’m happy to answer the young lady’s questions.’ Wolf was interested despite hitnself. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Well, Herr Wolf,’ Elizabeth said nervously, ignoring the annoyance on the headmaster’s face, ‘I was just wondering what it was like to break the record on the Hahnenkamm?’

‘What?’ Wolf stuttered, taken aback.

‘In nineteen twenty-five,’ the young girl added helpfully.

‘]a, I remember when it was,’ Hans Wolf replied. He took a closer look at the pretty eyes and saw the pale ring of goggle-marks. ‘It was terrifying. Wonderful. You are interested in skiing?’ How many of his own. countrymen knew he’d broken that record? It was half a century ago

now.

Elizabeth nodded eagerly and Herr Geller, wanting to impress a member of the Olympic committee, .added,

‘Lady Elizabeth is a very good skier, I believe, Herr Wolf. Our own instructors taught her. The Ecole has an excellent record into’

Wolf caught the scornful glint in Elizabeth’s eye and was suddenly vastly amused. Maybe he could take the young Friiulein out for lunch at a mountain caf& Good sausage, black bread, soup. A glass of Ptlaumen. No doubt she would enjoy the chance to get out of this ridiculous establishment for a while, and it would be fun to tell war stories from his youth. The Hahnenkamm in 9z5! A lifetime ago.

‘So I hear, Herr Geller. I would very much like to see for myself, though.’ He turned to Elizabeth. ‘Young lady, will you show me what you have learned? We could take the gondola up to Plattjen.’

‘I’d love to, sir.’ Elizabeth glanced at Herr Geller. ‘Natiilich, go ahead,’ he said expansively. ‘We have many skis, suits and boots in the games room, Herr Wolf, if you would like to join her yourself.’

‘I hung up my skis a few years back.’ Wolf eyed the

young woman speculatively. ‘Are you good?’

‘Very good,’ Elizabeth said boldly.

Wolf grinned. ‘There are some nasty mogul fields up there. We’ll see.’

Hans Wolf leaned over the rail on the restaurant balcony, wondering if he could believe his eyes. Down the steep, unforgiving slope opposite him, Elizabeth’s strong young body was flying around the-moguls. The stick was planted firmly and removed cleanly, She jumped high and twisted sharply from the waist. Slice, leap, slice. No mogul seemed too large, no jump too high. The teenager moved with instinctive grace and skill. The technique was unpolished, but Gott in Himmel! she was superb.

Ten minutes ago he’d been looking forward to an encouraging chat and a pleasant lunch. The Engliinderin

aristocrat was very down to earth and warm, openly admiring of him, obviously passionate about skiing and funny about her school. He had settled on the restaurant balcony and told her to have a go at the short, steep mogul run while he ordered lunch. The first time he watched her descent Wolf thought he must be imagining things. He waved at her to do it again, to check it was not a fluke. And then again.

She was so good, it set his adrenalin flowing just to watch her. For a second the old man imagined Heidi Laufen and Louise Levier, their own World Cup hopes on the Swiss women’s team. They wouldn’t thank him for what he was about to do, but he didn’t hesitate for a second.

‘ He beckoned to a waiter. ‘Do you have a payphone in the back?’ he asked. ‘I need to make a telephone call.’

‘Of course, sir. Let me show you,’ the waiter said, and led him into the bar. Wolf dropped some coins into the slot and dialled the number from memory.

‘British Ski Federation,’ replied a female voice.

‘This is Hans Wolf calling from Switzerland,’ he said. ‘Is the director around?’

Six hundred and twenty-seven dollars didn’t get you very far, even in Brooklyn.

‘Fifty a week,’ the landlord said.

Nina shrugged and looked scornful. She was staring into a tiny, cramped little room with damp stains on the walls, a tiny chipped basin and one closet. The communal

bathroom was down the hall.

‘Thirty-five,’ she said.

He lat[ghed sourly. ‘C’mon, sugar, we charge fifteen bucks a night.’

The Ocean Motel was in the scuzzy Red Hook area and it blended right in, catering mostly to sailors working on the docks.

‘Yeah, but you won’t fill this every night. I’ll stay at least three weeks.’

‘Forty, baby, and you’re robbing me,’ the landlord said. His eyes flickered hungrily across her large breasts and small waist. The kid was weird, kind of like a coed but with street-smarts. She was so serious she freaked him out. Not a hooker, he could tell that much. Pity, ‘cause she could have made the rent in kind, any time. He’d have offered her a drink, but she had this standoff vibe around her.

‘Thirty-five.’ Nina locked into his eyes and killed the fire there with an icy stare. ‘It’s all I got. It’s not enough, I’ll need to go somewhere else.’

The guy frowned. He smelled of sweat and cigarette and Nina wanted him out of her room.

‘OK. But two weeks in advance.’

She fished in her pocket, peeled off the bills from her small roll. He left. She sat down on her small bunk and put her head in her hands.

Nina wondered what her parents were doing now. Calling the police? Did they miss her? They had to miss what she could do. But even so, Red Hook was a no-go area, nobody knew her here. The cops wouldn’t find her.

She felt surprisingly calm. She’d been self-reliant for a long time; the only thing different now was the circumstances. Looking back on it, Jeff Glazer had been such a stupid mistake for a clever girl. What was he? Just a good-looking jock who’d used her and then run for over. She’d trusted him, and look where it got her. Yeah, whatever. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Nina got up from the bed and went to the grimy window. Outside was an alley; beyond that, the bustle and noise of dirty, dodgy Brooklyn. She had $557 and the. clothes she stood up in.

Tomorrow she would go get a job. It was time to get out of here.

Nina didn’t find a job the next day, nor the day after. She spent two anxious weeks trudging down Flatbush Avenue and around the Civic Centre, terrified her money would run out before she found work. Even her reference was no help.

Brooklyn was sunk in the late seventies recession. Nobody was hiring: the drugstores were full, the banks had enough tellers, even the delis didn’t need a clerk. She was desperate when she had her first stroke of luck. A boy named Leon was standing in front of her in a checkout queue, bitching about the health food store that had just fired him.

Green Earth was a small Mom-and-Pop joint, a hippy56

looking place. Fading paint peeled from its storefront and dusty windows, displaying an assortment of candles, vitamins and joss sticks. Not promising, but her heart beat a bit faster. Surely this place would need someone

new.

A bell jangled as she pushed the door open.

‘Hi, can I help you?’

The storekeeper was grey haired, maybe sixty. He was sitting behind the counter, hunched over a stack of loose receipts.

‘I hope so,’ Nina said politely. ‘I heard you fired Leon. I’d like to apply for the job.’

The proprietor shook his head. ‘I’m not replacing him. Third kid I tried in a month. All they do is sit around chewing gum and talking back to the customers.’

‘I’m not like that, really. I’ve got experience and a reference’ Nina persisted.

‘Sorry, honey. Try somewhere else.’ Nina swallowed her bitter disappointment and was about to leave when he added, ‘What I need is an accountant. Or a magician.’ He patted the forms in front of him with a good-natured sigh.

‘What are they, your records?’ Nina asked.

‘Uh-hnh.’ The old guy shook his head again. ‘Never keep a store, kid. You’ll go blind before your time.’

‘I can organise those for you,’ she said, walking towards the counter and ignoring his disbelieving expression. ‘Really. My folks kept a seven-eleven. I used to ‘ she nearly said ‘do the’, but change.d it to ‘- help with reordering and stocktaking.’

‘Yeah? You good at math?’ he asked, a slight interest creeping into his tone.

‘Top of the class. Look, why don’t you let me sit with you and sort those receipts? If you think you can use me, give me a month’s trial. If not, I’ll stop bothering you:’ She fought to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

57

He paused for a second, then nodded. ‘I guess it couldn’t hurt.’

‘I’m Nina Roth,’ Nina said, weak with relief.

‘Frank Malone,’ the old man said, shaking her hand. ‘So you understand these order forms?’

Nina started at Green Earth at six bucks an hour. She reordered stock, washed the windows, and hand-painted the storefront a cotton-candy pink. The small price list Frank kept at the counter was replaced by bold cardboard signs for special offers and discounts. Compared to the chaos of her mother’s deli, Green Earth’s simple product line was a breeze to keep track of, and soon Nina could tell her boss what was selling and what wasn’t.

‘Word got around fast, and more customers started coming in. Nina gave them all polite, efficient service, and made sure she learned the names of the regulars. Frank .was impressed.

‘How come you work so hard?’ he asked her one night, as she combed through a pharmaceutical catalogue. ‘You don’t have to stay this late. You should be out having fun.’

‘I like to work,’ Nina said truthfully.

It was true, she did like to work. She had a million ideas for improvements, and Frank Malone was eager to try them all. A widower of seven years, the store was all he had left, and Nina Roth made it an exciting, friendly, bustling place to be. As they started making a little money, he gave Nina a raise; not much, but better than nothing. Nina slaved all hours, she worked like a demon. For one thing, the bright, airy store was better than her dingy motel room. For another, she wasn’t the fun seeking type. And finally, she knew she had to make herself indispensable to Frank Malone before the inevitable happened.

It took four months.

58

‘How’s my favourite girl?’ Frank asked one morning, as Nina unlocked the front door.

‘Good. You know, Frank, we should think about

advertising. Posters round town. The local paper.’ ‘Too expensive.’

‘It’ll pay for itself in a month.’ She took off her coat and hung it in the back.

‘Well, I’m glad to see that.’

‘What?’ Nina asked, turning round.

He gestured at her stomach. ‘You’re putting on a little weight at last. It suits you, you should eat more.’

Nina braced herself. He’d have to know some time. ‘It’s not that, Frank. I’m pregnant.’ Blank astonishment. ‘You’re pregnant?’ She nodded.

The ld man’s face darkened. ‘Boyfriend’s not around?’

‘No.’ Nina’s grey eyes were expressionless, and for a moment Frank Malone felt uneasy. Nina was such a serious, determined kid. Seventeen going on forty-eight.

It was clear she was in no mood for arguments.

‘You need any help?’

‘No.’ She wondered if she was being too snappy. ‘But thanks all the same.’

When she’d picked up her meagre savings, Nina had just one thought in her head. She’d get a plac.e, find a job to cover the rent, and spend her money on an abortion. It was terrible to lose her scholarships, but she couldn’t stand it a second longer; she had to get out of Park Slope. Nina wanted a place of her own, away from her selfish parents, away from St Michael’s and the kids who laughed at her, a million miles away from Jeff Glazer. The pain of what he’d done to her was unbelievable. Jeff said she was nothing. Her parents treated her lik

nothing. Nina felt so lonely and so hurt she’d thought she would die.

There was no way she’d take a c6nt from Jeff. In his world, money bought everything, but Nina swore she was not for sale. Once she had a job, she’d pay whatever it took to rip his bastard out of her. By next year, she’d be in control of her own life - she could reapply to college then.

It was difficult to pinpoint the moment she’d changed her mind. After she started at Green Earth, Nina meant to make a doctor’s appointment, but she kept putting it off. She told herself she was settling in, but two weeks passed, then three, and she still hadn’t done it. Walking down Atlantic Avenue in the summer evenings, past the

‘

Arab bakeries and falafel stands, she’d watch the black robed mothers cuddling their downy-haired babies, and feel an unexpected tenderness. Or she’d notice a little girl trotting behind her morn in a shopping mall and wonder what her own baby might look like. Somehow she shoved the issue to the back of her mind. It was easy to ignore it, af least at first. Nina had no morning sickness, no cravings for sardine and jelly sandwiches, nothing. Her already voluptuous body didn’t seem any different, except for a little tenderness around the breasts.