Berlin: A Novel (5 page)

She felt ashamed of her thin summer dress with its little white collar when she went to see her new friends after the show. They had been given the two best rooms in the inn.

'Oh, how sweet of you, my dear.' Nadja Horn came towards her with outstretched arms. She was wearing a flowing house dress. She had taken off her blonde wig, and was black-haired again. 'What lovely roses! Thank you so much. Did you like the play?'

'Oh yes, specially the scene where Verena van Bergen pretends not to have seen Armand for ages, even though he's waiting for her just next door.' Karin picked up a long cigarette-holder from the table and posed, her hand held at a casual angle. 'My dear, whatever are you thinking of? I'm about as interested in Armand as I am in Dr Dupont's dachshund. Or was it a Dobermann?' She'd captured Nadja Horn's tone of voice.

'Bravo!' Erik de Winter applauded. He had exchanged his evening dress for a silk dressing gown and a cravat, and looked captivating. A little champagne?' He poured some and handed Karin the glass.

It tickled her nose. Karin couldn't help sneezing. She laughed, not at all embarrassed. 'I never drank anything like this before.' She took another sip, without sneezing this time.

He raised his glass to her. 'I really like your village. Delightful people.' It sounded slightly patronizing.

And he doesn't even know the name of this dump, thought Nadja, putting the roses in a jug, since there was no vase available.

'It's not my village. I'm from Cuxhaven.'

Nadja sipped from her own glass. 'So you're visiting your family and helping out on the farm a little?'

'No, I've lived and worked here since Mutti died. But I'm soon going to Berlin.' She believed it as she said it. There was a determined set to her beautiful, full-lipped mouth.

Nadja Horn was observing the girl attentively. She heard her educated German, registered her natural, self-confident bearing. This was no naive rustic, there was more to her than that. Erik had spotted it, and he was right. She rose to her feet. 'Come with me a moment, my dear. Erik darling, top up our glasses, would you?'

Karin followed her into the next room, where Nadja opened the two halves of a large wardrobe trunk containing a dozen evening dresses. She chose one and tossed it to Karin. 'Try that on.' Karin had never undressed in front of a strange woman, and went into the bathroom, but her hostess followed. She took off her thin summer dress. 'Good heavens, how frightful!' cried Nadja, horrified at the sight of the blue jersey knickers. 'Wait a moment.' She disappeared and came back with a pair of diaphanous camiknickers and other delicious items. 'Come on, child, you want to look pretty,' she enticed her. Karin overcame her shyness and took off her dismal underclothes.

Nadja saw a fully developed young woman with long, slim thighs and beautifully shaped breasts. 'Now, sit down in front of the mirror.' She undid Karin's plaits and brushed her hair until it fell to her shoulders in golden waves. Then she carefully pencilled in the line of the girl's eyebrows and added just a touch of lipstick. That regular young face with its perfect complexion needed nothing more.

'Now stand up.' A cool, fragrant mist of perfume from Nadja's atomizer surrounded her naked body, making her nipples erect. Nadja helped her with the suspender belt and silk stockings. The long dress rustled as Karin drew it over her shoulders and hips. A few hooks and eyes completed the operation. Everything fitted, including the high-heeled silver pumps. Enchanted, Nadja clapped her hands.

'You took your time,' Erik de Winter complained in good-humoured tones. Then he said no more, so overwhelmed was he by the blonde young woman in the close-fitting black evening dress, high-necked in front and plunging right down to her waist at the back. Incredulous, Karin realized that she had bowled him right over.

Armand, where's that champagne? I'm dying of thirst,' she said, mimicking Nadja's lines from the second act, and she perched on the arm of a chair just like her model, ensuring that the slit in her skirt fell open all the way to her knee.

Erik regained his composure. Only if you'll dance with me, my love,' he quoted from his own lines, and wound up the gramophone.

Karin had seen him and Nadja dancing on stage. Now she just melted into his arms and they drifted over the creaking floorboards. She smelled his astringent eau-de-Cologne and felt the silk of his dressing gown. He felt her young body next to his and stopped thinking at all.

There was a knock. Theodor Alberti put his leonine head round the door. 'Come in, Theo. A glass of champagne?' Nadja asked the director in honeyed tones.

The monocle flashed. He looked Karin up and down with pleasure. 'So whom have we here, then? A charming new colleague, by any chance?'

Nadja Horn looked at her protegee. 'Maybe.'

Karin danced home over the cobblestones of the village street in an exuberant mood. Aunt Anna had left the door in the farmyard gate open. As she reached for the doorknob, a hand shot out of the dark and grabbed her arm. 'So you don't mind dancing with that actor fellow,' growled Hans Gorke. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. 'You wait, he'll get what's coming to him.' He let her go and moved away, his footsteps heavy.

By the time she was in her bedroom she had forgotten this encounter. She took off her thin summer dress. Nadja Horn had made her a present of the undies. She went to bed in those delicate wisps of nothing, thought of Erik de Winter, and fell happily asleep.

The second and final performance was on Saturday. Gorke had put his son under house arrest when Theodor Alberti told him of the young man's threats to a member of his company, and held out the prospect of'measures that could be taken by the Reich Chamber of Culture. And then, my dear fellow, you'd be kicked out of the Party,' Alberti had said, exaggerating wildly.

So Erik de Winter remained unscathed, and the final performance was another great success. Erik didn't get to see Karin again. On Theo's orders,' Nadja told him. 'It's better this way, believe me. For now, anyway.' He thought he detected the hint of a promise in her voice.

On Sunday morning Nadja Horn called on the Werneisens. She was invited into the parlour and asked to sit on the sofa. The Werneisens sat opposite her, waiting to see what she wanted.

The actress came straight to the point. 'I'd like to take your niece to Berlin. Not at once, but next spring. She can stay at my place and keep house for me, and the job will leave her enough time for drama school. The Stage Employees' Co-Operative will send you my character reference.'

'Drama school? That's the idea, is it?' Werneisen repeated, suspicion in his voice.

'Karin doesn't belong in the cowshed, you know that as well as I do. She has talent, and it must be trained.' Acting on intuition, Nadja Horn turned to Anna Werneisen. 'Do please give her this chance.'

The farmer's wife was listening attentively. 'It's not that we want to put obstacles in Karin's way. But what about the expense?' she said.

'She'll have free board and lodging with me. That just leaves the question of the drama school fees.'

She has a little money of her own that her mother left her. But it's really supposed to be for her trousseau.'

And you want us to cough that up?' Werneisen narrowed his eyes. 'I dare say you think we're stupid peasants, but we're not that stupid.'

A notary of your own choice would hold the money in trust, and make payments on Karin's behalf, having checked their validity. I assure you, Herr Werneisen, that I am not so stupid as to take responsibility for a young girl's money.'

The farmer looked at her in astonishment. 'Well, you're a one! Do we let our Karin go, Mother?' Anna Werneisen nodded. And so it was decided.

It was a long autumn for Karin, and a long winter. She didn't let anyone see her impatience, but worked harder than ever. She was even nice to Hans Gorke, although she kept her distance.

Nadja Horn lived in an apartment on the Siidwestkorso, where many artists had made their homes. From the window of her room, Karin had a view of the green Breitenbachplatz and its U-Bahn entrance, half-hidden by shrubs and spring flowers. She had been in Berlin for three weeks, and was finding her way around the capital with insatiable curiosity. The notary had allowed her a small budget for clothes, and some presents from her patron Nadja completed her wardrobe. The country girl was quickly turning into a chic young Berliner.

The Lore Bruck School of Drama in Kantstrasse was easily reached by the T-line bus. Nadja had registered her protegee in the beginners' class. All we do is breathing exercises until we're right out of puff,' Karin complained.

'You'll be playing Goethe's Gretchen soon enough,' Nadja consoled her.

'With Erik de Winter as Faust,' said Karin dreamily. 'We never hear from him these days.'

'He's making a movie with Josef von Baky on Riigen island.'

'Will he be away long?'

'You'll probably have to possess your soul in patience for a while. They've only just begun the location shots.' Nadja hesitated. 'I think it's time we talked. You're young and beautiful. You're going to meet a great many men, and they'll all try to get you into bed. Including Erik. I assume that as a country girl you know the facts of life?'

'You mean what happens when the cow's taken to the bull? Any child knows that.'

'Yes, but do you know the difference? The cow has no choice. You do. Choose your first man for love. And from then on choose wisely.'

At first Karin didn't understand what Nadja meant. Then she did, and her innermost being rejected the idea. There would be only one man for her, ever. Guessing her thoughts, Nadja smiled.

The beginners' class had fencing that July morning. Lore Bruck cultivated good relations with Heinrich Himmler, the Reichsfiihrer SS, so a sports instructor from the Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler Division taught the aspiring actors. His name was Siegfried, and he was a blond giant who wielded his foil with astonishing ease and elegance. He stood behind Karin and guided her hand. Concentrating hard, she followed his movements. As she did so she pressed her buttocks back against him as if by chance. The other girls giggled. Siegfried blushed.

It was one of the little interludes she introduced into classes. Another was her imitation of Lore Bruck, which was so perfect that everyone fell about laughing. 'Karin, we can see that you have a certain gift for comedy,' her teacher remarked of these flights of fancy. All the same, I'd like you to be a little more serious. You can't fool about the whole time on stage.'

Lore Bruck was an ardent National Socialist. She had been in her prime at the German National Theatre in the 1920s, and in the days of the silent movies. The elegant actress of that period had now become a matronly figure who looked after her pupils like a mother hen. The young people adored her, and took all their troubles to her.

'Now I'll show you a tierce,' the fencing master told them. But no one took any notice. Lore Bruck had just come in with Erik de Winter. He was immediately surrounded by the drama students, who besieged him with questions and requests for autographs. He fended off their demands with great good humour. 'Ladies and gentlemen, you'll be the death of me!'

Karin stayed in the background, waiting for him to notice her. He disentangled himself from the group and came over. 'How are you, Karin?' he asked, his tone formal. 'Frau Bruck says you're making good progress.'

'Thanks, I'm fine,' she said, sounding wooden. Her heart was thudding.

'Karin, I'm told that Herr de Winter is a friend of your family,' said Lore Bruck. 'So just this once I'm giving you the rest of the day off'

'How very kind of you, Lore.' He hugged her and winked at Karin. She relished the envious glances of the others as he took her hand and led her out of the rehearsal room. Down in the street, a cream Wanderer convertible with its hood down was waiting. He helped her into the car. Two passers-by recognized him and stopped. He waved to them, laughing, got behind the wheel and started the engine.

They drove down Kantstrasse to Masurenallee, past the Reich Radio building to Adolf-Hitler-Platz, gathering speed down Heerstrasse, Karin enjoying the warm wind. When they reached the Stossensee bridge they turned left into the Havelchaussee, which wound its way along beside the river.

At the Schildhorn he steered the convertible over to the side of the road and stopped. The resinous scent of pines rose from the Grunewald as it lay in the heat of the sun. White sails glinted on the water. Above them the stout little Odol advertising airship droned away. He leaned over and kissed her. To Karin, it was quite unexpected, and entirely different from the clumsy kisses of the boy next door back in Cuxhaven, or the stage kisses they were learning to exchange in class. Acting on instinct, she opened her lips and met his exploring tongue. Shudders ran through her body, converging on one point. It was like those times she'd touched herself in the field of rye, but much better.

He took her head between his hands. His voice was warm and full of tenderness. 'That's what I wanted to say to you.' Slowly, he drove on. She leaned her head against his shoulder. She was filled with an indescribable sense of happiness. He had put his right arm round her, and let the car cruise on in fourth gear. Only when the Havelchaussee was behind them did he push her gently aside and switch the engine off. 'Do you like Aal Grun?' he asked. Green eel? She had no idea what he meant.