The Runaway Family (8 page)

“It’s already happened,” Herbert said. “They had a meeting today… without him, and after it they called him in and told him to leave… there and then. To leave everything in his desk and his files… everything. When he went back to the office for his coat, his desktop was clear… there was nothing on it, except the photograph of his wife and daughters stuffed into a brown paper bag.”

“And he just accepted this? It was his firm; you told me he founded the firm.” Ruth was incredulous. “And he let them simply throw him out?”

Herbert let out a shuddering sigh. “What else could he do? Wait to be manhandled out of the building? They were already changing the locks on the doors as I followed him out.”

“You followed him out?” repeated Ruth.

Herbert gave a mirthless laugh. “You don’t think they’d keep me on once he’d gone, do you? I was at my desk as he passed my door, and within two minutes Herr Hartmann was in the room, saying, ‘Out, Friedman! We don’t want your sort here either!’ I sat there staring at him, because I didn’t know then what had happened to Herr Durst.

“I must have looked very stupid, because he crossed over to the desk and put his face right down next to mine and spoke very slowly and distinctly as if I was an idiot. ‘Get out of this office, Friedman, and don’t come back.’”

“What did
you
say?”

“I didn’t know what to say. He simply turned away saying, as he walked out of the door, ‘Collect your wage packet from Fräulein Weiss. You’re lucky to get it.’ I was still too shocked to move, I just stared at him and then he said, ‘And if you’re still here in five minutes’ time, you won’t be paid!’”

“Did you get it?” Ruth asked anxiously. “Did they pay you what they owed?” Her own money had dwindled to almost nothing, and would have run out long ago if Herbert hadn’t given her housekeeping money… the money he no longer paid Frau Schultz.

“Yes, they’ve paid me to the end of the week. It’s not much.”

“But if you left so early, where have you been since?” wondered Ruth.

“When I’d collected my money from Fräulein Weiss, I went after Herr Durst. He was outside in the street, looking up at the office building as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. We were hardly out of the door before we saw someone not only changing the locks on the front door, but replacing the brass plate beside it.”

“The brass plate?”

“With the name of the firm. As from today the firm has a new name. Hartmann and Weber.” Herbert shook his head sadly. “This must all have been planned for some time,” he went on. “How else would they have had the new nameplate ready? When I came out, Herr Durst looked across at me and said, ‘You too, Friedman? I’m sorry about that. No Jews allowed.’ ‘What will you do now, sir?’ I asked him.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Perhaps set up on my own again, and deal only with Jewish clients. Let’s face it,’ he said, ‘there are plenty of Jews who need my help just now.’ ‘Will you have work for me?’ I asked him. ‘I need a job too.’ He said, ‘Come and have a drink and we’ll talk about it.’”

“So that’s where you’ve been.” Ruth sounded relieved.

“We went to a bar where Herr Durst is known, and they did serve us, but it was clear they overcharged us. When I said as much to Herr Durst, he said that it had been so for some time now, but that it meant he could still buy a drink there if he wanted to.”

“So, did he give you a job?”

“No. He gave me advice.” Herbert fell silent.

“What?” demanded Ruth at last. “What did he say?”

“He said I should get out while I could.”

“Get out?” echoed Ruth. “Get out of where?”

“Germany. He said I was single and that it would be easy for me to leave now, but he thought things were going to get much worse. That the time would come when it would be too late. Jews wouldn’t be allowed to leave.”

“And is he going to get out?” enquired Ruth.

“No,” answered Herbert, “but he has a family, it’s not so easy for him simply to up sticks and go.”

“Exactly! He has family! You’d think he would be trying to get them out as soon as he can.”

“He said he’d thought of it,” Herbert said, “but he’s not sure it’s necessary for a family like his.”

“A family like his?” Ruth spoke with the utmost scorn. “Does he really think he’s too well connected to be in any danger? Does he think the Nazis pay any attention to that? He’s a Jew. All Jews are at risk.” Ruth pulled Leah Meyer’s letter out of her pocket and handed it to Herbert. “Read that,” she said. “Jews are being rounded up and sent to this dreadful camp, well the men are anyway, and they are only being allowed out if they agree to leave Germany for good. Kurt is in this camp… at least I assume he is, as he was arrested the same night as Martin Rosen. God knows if he will be offered the same chance to leave, but in the meantime things are getting worse, you know they are. Look what she says here, ‘terror stalks the streets’, she means the Gestapo.”

“I know it, you know it. But there’s nothing we can do about it except keep out of the way.”

“That’s not going to work forever,” Ruth said. “Only today when I was out with the children we heard them marching towards us. There was nowhere to hide, and as they came towards us those dreadful boots they wear crashing on the road, they sounded like an enemy army. They took no notice of us this time, but I was terrified for the children.”

“You shouldn’t be taking them out,” Herbert said.

“I have to. They can’t stay prisoners in here all day and every day. Oh Herbert, I wish I knew what to do!”

Herbert nodded wearily. “So do I,” he said.

Ruth hardly slept that night, churning everything over in her mind, considering and discarding ideas as to what they might do. Herbert losing his job meant that his income had dried up, which meant that hers had too. What were they going to live on? How was she going to feed four hungry children, not to mention herself and Herbert? It wasn’t just money for food that she had to find. The winter was coming, they would need warm clothes. She could try and get work herself, but there were so few jobs, and almost none that might be given to a Jew. Ruth didn’t mind hard work, would welcome it if it meant that her children were warm and fed, but she knew there would be little on offer.

And even if I can get work, she wondered, who’ll look after the children? It’ll have to be Laura; though she’s only ten, she’ll have to look after them if I do manage to find something.

Herbert might be more lucky, she thought. He, unlike her with her dark hair and eyes, her slightly hooked nose and wide mouth, was not so obviously Jewish. He might find himself a job of some sort, even if not the kind of work he was used to. He won’t be able to be choosy about what he does, she thought. He’ll have to take anything that’s offered.

At last she drifted off into fitful sleep, from which she woke in the morning, un-refreshed, her eyes as heavy as her heart.

Herbert left at his usual time next morning, as if he were going to the office. Ruth was pleased he did, it prevented any awkward questions from Laura, who was quite old enough and bright enough to notice a change in routine. At the end of the week he gave Ruth her usual housekeeping money, but though he had been looking for work every day, he told her, “There’s no work for anyone. I did call on Herr Durst again, but he was not at home.”

“Not at home, or not at home to you?” asked Ruth.

Herbert shrugged. “It’s all one when it comes down to it,” he said. “He’s not going to be able to give me any work, even if he gets something set up for himself. He has two sons. They will keep anything like that in the family. It’s everyone for himself these days.”

Ruth could only agree with him. There had been unrest all over the country, though not, thank goodness, in their immediate locality. All Jews were constantly looking over their shoulders now. Frau Meyer’s words lived in her mind: “terror stalks our streets”. Ruth, like almost all Jews, had become more and more aware of the tramp of jackboots, and the casual cruelty of the Hitler Youth who haunted the Jewish districts, hunting in gangs. She seldom took the children far these days, just a short walk each day to give them some exercise and fresh air. They were virtually prisoners in the apartment, and although she tried to keep up a pretence of normality, they were changing from the cheerful, rosy-cheeked children she had brought from Gerbergasse, to restive, fractious children, pale-faced and hollow-eyed.

It was over a week later that Herbert finally dropped his bombshell.

“I’m going to Argentina,” he told Ruth when the children were safely in bed and they were alone in the living room. They were sitting across the dining table from each other, the remains of a frugal meal between them.

Ruth stared at him, aghast. “You’re what?”

“I’m going to Argentina,” he repeated, “I’ve booked my passage on a ship. I leave from Hamburg next week. There’s nothing to keep me here.”

Ruth continued to stare at him. “Nothing to keep you here,” she echoed flatly.

Herbert continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “I’ve no family, and it’s no good me waiting to see if Herr Durst is going to set up another firm. I’m getting out while I still can.”

“Nothing to keep you here,” Ruth said again. “No family. What about Kurt’s children? Kurt’s family? Don’t you think we might need you?”

Herbert looked a little uncomfortable, but he spoke firmly. “I have thought about you and the children… of course I have. I would take you, but Kurt will be coming to look for you here. Otherwise I’d take you with me, of course I would… But you said yourself that this is where Kurt will come to find you.” His eyes showed a gleam of… what? Ruth wasn’t sure as she listened to him cap his lies with the argument she had used to get him to allow them to stay with him.

“Here,” she repeated. “But if you’ve gone…”

“My dear Ruth,” Herbert said soothingly, “you don’t think I am just going to walk away and leave you with nowhere to live, do you?”

It was
exactly
what Ruth was thinking, so she didn’t reply as she waited for him to continue. “Of course not.” He shook his head firmly. “It would be wrong to take you with me, but you can stay here. The rent on this flat is paid up until the end of the year. You can stay here, just as you are now until Kurt comes for you. If they’re letting them out of that camp, it won’t be long before he’s here with you again.”

“And you’ve actually booked your passage? Bought your ticket? You have your ticket in your hands?”

“Not yet, but I’ve paid for it. I collect it from the office of the shipping company tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope there is one for you,” snapped Ruth bitterly.

Once he had told her, Herbert’s demeanour began to change. He had made his decision some days ago, but now he had admitted it to Ruth there came a sense of relief, a sense of purpose. He still looked older than his years, but a little colour began to creep back into his cheeks. He got up from his chair and went to the sideboard where he poured himself a glass of schnapps. Turning back towards Ruth he saw her watching him, her eyes dull with worry.

“Would you like a drink, Ruth?” he asked awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you.”

Ruth was about to refuse when she thought, “Why not?” She seldom drank alcohol, but suddenly she felt in need of… whatever it might supply. She nodded and Herbert poured another, smaller measure into a glass and handed it to her.

“Prosit!” he said.

Ruth took the glass and took a sip. The drink was fiery in her throat, and she coughed, before downing the rest in one draught, and coughing again.

“Steady,” Herbert said. “You’re not used to it.” He tilted his own glass and he, too, downed the contents in one, before pouring each of them another.

Later, as Ruth lay on the sofa, feeling a little woozy from the unaccustomed schnapps, she went over and over what Herbert had said.

“You can stay here in the flat. You’ll be fine.”

“And what do you suggest we live on?” she had demanded angrily. “Fresh air?”

“Of course not,” Herbert soothed. “I will give you some money. It’s the least I can do. I have some money saved. Most of it I must take with me, to start again in Argentina… but of course I will leave you enough to keep you going until Kurt gets here.”

“And supposing he doesn’t?” demanded Ruth, staring at him icily. “Supposing he doesn’t get here?”

Herbert had returned her stare. “Then you’ll be on your own, Ruth. I’ll have done everything I can for you, and it’ll be up to you.”

“Will they let you take your money with you?” she’d asked a little later. “I thought you weren’t allowed to take anything valuable with you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve thought of that,” Herbert replied. “I’m not taking it in actual cash. I’ve converted it into something more portable; something easier to hide. I’ll get it out all right.”

Ruth didn’t ask what, or where he would conceal it. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know how much he was taking, or how. She simply asked, “When do you go?” She knew that whatever she said or did, Herbert would leave and she and the four children would be on their own.

“I collect my ticket tomorrow,” he replied, “and then take the train to Hamburg. The boat leaves next week.”

So this time tomorrow, Ruth thought, it’ll just be me and the children.

She fought to keep the rising panic at bay. She fought the tears of frustration and desperation that threatened to overwhelm her. This was no time to give way to tears. It was only her strength that was going to keep them alive.

Herbert had spent much of the night packing. Ruth could hear him moving round his bedroom, opening and closing drawers and the wardrobe. There was the occasional creak of bedsprings, and then as the grey of a false dawn lightened the sky, one final groan of the bed as Herbert lay down.

Ruth wondered if he had actually managed to go to sleep, or whether he, too, was lying in the dark, afraid of what the future might hold.

Next morning he ate his breakfast in silence, paying no attention to the chatter of the children, and they, picking up the strange atmosphere, gradually slipped into silence. As soon as they had finished eating, Ruth sent them to their bedroom, telling them to play in there until she called them to do their lessons.