Gretel and the Dark (26 page)

‘We’ve
been in worse places,’ said Lilie.

Benjamin glanced at her, perplexed. ‘Be that as it may, Lilie, I–I hoped we could live here peacefully and quietly.’

Lilie turned to face him. ‘Today, he tried to …’

‘The doctor?’ A tingle ran the length of Benjamin’s spine. His fists curled into tight balls as he guessed what she was unwilling to say. ‘He tried to what?’ he asked, more sharply than he intended, anxious not to misunderstand.

She looked away. ‘He wants …’ Lilie shook her head. ‘You know we can’t stay here, Benjamin. We have to move on. Up you get.’

He scrambled unwillingly to his feet and stood very close to her. ‘Where could we go? What can we do? How would we live without my job?’

‘Someone will help us, I promise you. Anyway, I’m supposed to be helping
Frau
Drache
in the kitchen.’

‘Breathing fire,’ said Ben. ‘That’s what dragons do best.’ He watched her go, flitting through the shrubs as lightly as an elf, then picked up the fork and doggedly continued digging along the row.

Josef, standing out of sight, watched the small drama unfold. He saw Lilie come to the kitchen door and stand on the threshold, lips moving as though in silent prayer, until Gudrun turned from the stove and noticed her.

‘Hah, there you are at last.’

‘What would you like me to do?’ asked Lilie, and Josef thought he’d never heard a sweeter voice. He shifted a little, craning his neck for a better view.

‘Here,’ said Gudrun, swinging two fowl by the feet. ‘I want to make
paprikás
. She dropped them on the central table,
folding her arms across her plump abdomen as Lilie stared at the scrawny, yellow-scaled legs. ‘Pluck and draw those, will you? I presume you know how.’

Lilie wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ve seen it done.’

‘Well, get on with it, girl. We haven’t got all day.’ Gudrun suddenly noticed a butterfly clinging to the underside of a pan. One quick flick of a kitchen rag consigned it to the floor, and a moment later it was reduced to a greyish paste beneath the sole of her boot. The girl whimpered. Josef grimaced. Gudrun narrowed her eyes. ‘Perhaps we’d be free of pests if that fool of a boy wasn’t continually distracted.’

Lilie seized the first bird’s head and yanked at its neck feathers, struggling to divide the quills and down into separate piles. Soon there were feathers everywhere – on table, floor, stove, shelves. Handfuls of down floated around the room, borne on cold blasts from the outside door. ‘ “Mother Holle”,’ she said. Josef stifled a sneeze.

‘What’s that?’ demanded Gudrun, turning, red-faced, from the stove.

‘Don’t you know the story of Mother Holle?’ Lilie laughed. ‘
Cock-a-doodle-doo! My golden maid, what’s new with you
?’

‘I’ve no time for that nonsense. And neither have you, my lady. Just look at that mess. At this rate, you’ll be spending the rest of the day clearing up.’

‘There’s always time for stories, Gudrun. Someone once told me that stories lighten any task. Anyway, look at the feathers whirling against the ceiling. It’s like in the story when the beautiful hard-working girl shook Mother Holle’s bed.’

‘It will snow soon enough,’ said Gudrun.

Lilie smiled. ‘So you do know the story? The one about the girl dropping her spindle in the well –’

‘Sooner
or later, everyone gets to know the Dark Grandmother.’ Gudrun gave a dismissive snort. ‘As I remember the tale, the slow and useless daughter ended up covered in black
Pech
. Haven’t you finished yet?’ She peered at the carcasses. ‘You’re not going to leave them like that, surely? I can’t cook birds with half their plumage still on.’

There followed a long silence, while Lilie bent over the goose-pimpled poultry, working stray feathers out from the skin. A small noise alerted Josef to the fact that he wasn’t the only secret observer. Benjamin stood at the kitchen door, as yet unnoticed by the women. His eyes were fixed on the girl and there was an expression of such longing on his face that Josef felt he might choke on the upsurge of white-hot rage.

Gudrun nudged Lilie aside for another inspection of her work. ‘That’ll have to do.’ Taking a cleaver from the wall, she chopped off the birds’ heads with two decisive blows. Lilie stepped back too late, and the gore splashed her skirt. The heads lay on the scrubbed pine, combs trailing, eyes wide, staring at each other, until they were scooped up and consigned to a bucket. ‘Come on, get on with it – livers in the basin, gizzard in the stock pan.’

Lilie screwed up her face, looking away as she steeled herself to plunge her slender hand into the cavity of one of the fowls. ‘I just can’t do it,’ she said, after the third attempt.

‘Let me,’ offered Benjamin, choosing this moment to announce his presence. Josef also judged it time to show himself. And strode into the room, pushing open the door with such force that every jug and plate on the dresser rattled.

‘That’s enough. Finish off for her, if you would, Frau Gschtaltner. This is not the sort of task I had in mind for a convalescent. And find her different clothes. Surely there are more
stored in the attic.’ When the girls had been growing up not a week seemed to go by without the dressmaker calling. ‘Something dainty in pretty pastel shades. I believe we’ve spoken about this matter before.’

‘I do my best,
Herr Doktor
Breuer,’ said Gudrun with elaborate formality. ‘This very morning I brought down a fresh selection of garments. And what did Madame do but turn her nose up at them –’

Lilie seemed to freeze. ‘I told you I didn’t like stripes.’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers, in my opinion.’

‘Don’t speak to Lilie in that –’ began Benjamin, turning red with anger. Lilie silenced him by laying her hand on his arm, gently pushing him aside to face Gudrun. Josef’s eyes narrowed at the gesture, for not only did her hand remain there far longer than he deemed necessary, but the boy had the effrontery to place his own dirt-stained paw on top of it. And, instead of tearing herself free, she smiled at him.
She smiled
.

‘I’m not a beggar. I have asked for nothing’ – she looked at Josef – ‘except
Herr Doktor
Breuer’s help in a certain matter.’

‘Hoh, yes,’ scoffed Gudrun. ‘Of course – having done with “Mother Holle”, we’re back to the slaying of ogres and monsters.’

‘Frau Gschtaltner!’ roared Josef.

Gudrun took a step backwards, raising her ladle defensively. ‘I speak as I find, sir.’ Josef looked through her, addressing the wall behind her head.

‘Frau Gschtaltner will accompany you upstairs, Lilie. She will find you more suitable apparel and she will do so without comment or criticism. What you are wearing can be discarded.’

‘Now?’ demanded Gudrun, indicating the pans bubbling on the stove.

‘Now.’
Josef held open the door, taking long, slow breaths in an effort to restore his equilibrium. With the prospect of new life before him, he’d no wish for a death attributed to apoplexy. The women departed in silence, Gudrun’s head held high, her face a mask of displeasure, Lilie with backward glances that were mostly directed at Benjamin. Josef closed the door after them, raising his hand to halt the boy’s hurried departure. ‘Not you.’ He sat down, angling himself away from the blood-speckled feathers. Benjamin remained standing. ‘I’m surprised to see you still here in your working clothes, young man. I requested earlier that you keep a certain appointment.’

‘With the greatest respect, sir –’

‘Spare me your mealy-mouthed excuses,’ spat Josef. ‘I’m your employer. I expect my orders carried out.’

‘As they always have been,
Herr Doktor
.’ The colour drained from Benjamin’s features. ‘But this time you don’t realize what you’re sending me into.’

‘It’s hardly more than a social engagement,’ Josef said dismissively. He stood, drawing himself up to his full height, momentarily disconcerted to find his gardener had grown and now stood a head and shoulders taller. The two men faced each other down the length of the table.

‘No,’ protested Benjamin. ‘You don’t understand. That man –’ His voice trembled; he closed his eyes, as if to steady it. ‘You are sending me into the lion’s den.’

‘Then you must acquire the faith of a Daniel.’

‘I’m no –’

Josef raised his voice. ‘It’s a condition of remaining in my employ that you carry out this task. It’s simple enough. All I need to know is whether Lilie was previously an inmate. This is the key to unlocking her memory.’ He jutted his chin. ‘Bear
in mind that you’d be hard pressed to find another position without a character reference. Remember your humble beginnings, young man. Remember how I helped your family in their time of trouble. And then spare a thought for how your relatives – your mother and father, your brothers, sisters, grandmother, aunt – would exist without that portion of your wage you’re able to send home each month.’ He hesitated, shocked by how far his rage and jealousy had taken him. But there was no going back. Neither of them had a choice. ‘You will, as I said before, receive very generous recompense.’

‘I’ll do it,’ announced Benjamin, ‘but not for money, nor for you,
Herr Doktor
Breuer. Whatever becomes of me, however badly things turn out, I’ll go through with this for Lilie. And when I return,
if
I return, Lilie and I –’

‘Don’t imagine –’ began Josef, but stopped the torrent of venomous words in the nick of time. Far better to let the foolish boy believe in a future with Lilie until the truth about her had been unearthed. Afterwards, one glimpse of his lovely girl in the exquisite clothes and jewellery he’d provide would disabuse a humble gardener of any hopes in that direction. ‘Don’t imagine the worst,’ he finished, in response to Benjamin’s fixed stare. ‘It is, after all, only a club concerning itself with pleasure.’

Today, Wilhelm sat alone at the three-legged table, head tipped back, drawing languorously on a cigarette as he stared at the sky. There was no sign of the gigantic Kurt, for which Benjamin was grateful. Neither had the vicious Klingemann put in an appearance; with any luck the fair-haired man’s connection with this place existed only in his fearful imagination. Nevertheless, he hung back a moment or two longer, anxiously
checking every nook and cranny, peering into the darkened doorway to the interior, before making his presence known.

‘Welcome back, Benjamin. I was afraid I’d never see you again.’ Wilhelm rose, threw his cigarette to the ground and clasped Benjamin’s hand, keeping hold of it as he gestured to the other chair. ‘Sit down, sit down. Oh, dear, whatever happened to your face? And look at your poor hands.’ He finally released his hold, grimacing at Benjamin’s damaged palms. ‘Looks like you’ve been playing rough games, young Ben. Can’t have that. Work here and you’ll have to keep your nose clean.’ Wilhelm nodded encouragingly. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘No need to be brave. Not with me.’

‘I was attacked,’ mumbled Benjamin. ‘Thieves. They were after my money. I didn’t have any …’

‘So the blaggards gave you something to remember them by,’ finished Wilhelm. ‘Well, Vienna is becoming a dangerous place. You clearly need someone to protect you.’

Benjamin made non-committal noises, unsure of how to respond. For want of anything better to say, he asked: ‘Where’s Kurt?’

‘Kurt?’ Wilhelm looked down his nose. ‘Why would you want to see that
Gscherda
?’

‘I don’t,’ replied Benjamin, with such emphasis that Wilhelm beamed and nudged him.

‘Kurt’s all right in his way. All brawn and no brain. Country boy. He’d be handy in a fight, though. Not that anyone would touch you with me around.’ Wilhelm peered at Benjamin through a cloud of cigarette smoke and then ground the cigarette stub underfoot. ‘I fancy you’d be happier with someone a little more … hmm’ – he pursed his lips – ‘let’s say,
refined
.’ He held out his
cigarette case, which was silver, embossed with an eagle’s head rising from a cornucopia also containing flowers and ferns. ‘Smoke?’

Benjamin hesitated before taking one, and bent his head as Wilhelm pushed the button and opened the lid of his shining cap lighter. He sucked hard, taking in a lungful of smoke, and immediately started coughing and choking. The world spun. He clung to the crippled table, felt it rock unnervingly, heard his companion’s laughter above his own rasping and groaning. Wilhelm reached over and snatched the cigarette, sticking it between his own lips.

‘First time, huh? Why didn’t you say?’

Benjamin grunted. His bowels felt loose. Maybe he’d throw up. ‘Thought I’d try.’ He took a few deep breaths and massaged his throat. ‘Never again.’

‘It gets easier.’ Wilhelm smiled knowingly. ‘As does every acquired pleasure. Some coffee will help.’ He disappeared and returned with two steaming cups. Once again Benjamin was taken aback by the fine quality of the china. His work-worn fingers seemed too big for the delicate handle. The rim was so thin it hardly seemed to exist. As for the saucer, it was hardly more substantial than a flower petal. These things must indicate good living. Perhaps there was something to be said for working in a place like this.

‘You were going to ask about the possibility of a position here, Wilhelm,’ he asked, revived by the hot drink. ‘Any news?’

Wilhelm set down his cup. ‘Is that all you came back for?’

‘No,’ said Benjamin. At least that was true. ‘Not at all,’ he repeated, feeling the colour rush to his cheeks.

‘In that case, yes. You may start on the first of the month.’

‘What? Really? But that’s only a few days away.’

‘There’s just one thing.’ Wilhelm leaned forward, lowering
his voice. ‘I’ve said you were a nephew, my older sister’s child, newly arrived from Burgenland. It was the best way. Nobody likes strangers here.’ He straightened. ‘They don’t ask too many questions either. Anyway, I’ll see nobody bothers you.’

‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ stammered Benjamin, taken aback by the speed at which everything had been arranged.

‘Oh, Ben, I’m sure we’ll think of something.’ Wilhelm patted Benjamin’s knee and didn’t take his hand away.

‘What will my new duties be?’ Benjamin asked, to cover his discomfort.