Gretel and the Dark (31 page)

‘And then they … uh … after they’d finished doing evil things –’

‘What sort of things?’

‘Things so bad I can’t tell you. Things so bad I can’t tell you. Things so bad –’

‘Bad things,’ says Erika. ‘Things that make you wish you’d never been born.’

‘Thirty times, some days,’ whispers Lena, and weeps.

‘Listen to us,’ urges Annalies. ‘We know. We know.’

Today, there’s no siren, and no standing outside having names checked, because nobody’s going to work. It’s not like an ordinary day off, though. Instead of resting, everyone is stuffing rags in their shoes and tying blankets around their shoulders. We are
going for a long walk round the lake and towards the north-west. The first people have already gone. I can’t see anyone I know.

Billows of smoke rise to meet the clouds. Soft feathers of ash fall and a cold little breeze comes out of nowhere, whipping them into pale ghosts that accompany me as I run here and there looking for Daniel. If it hadn’t been for the creature crouching over them, shaking its bony white fists at the sleek ravens, I’d never have looked twice at the heap of bloodstained rags near the aviary.

Daniel fights me when I try getting him on his feet. ‘You go, Krysta. Take the Shadow. Get out of here.’

I feel like smacking him. ‘You know I won’t leave without you.’

‘I’ll be all right. I shall go into the magic mountain with the others. It leads to a better place – an old woman told me so.’

‘Are you mad? You’ve got your stories mixed up. That’s not the Pied Piper’s mountain. It’s the way to the witch’s cottage and her oven.’

Daniel groans. ‘I don’t care any more. They’re saying it’s a long way to where we’re going. Many days’ walk. I can’t, Krysta, I can’t.’

‘You think I’m heading where they tell me to? We’re going to escape,’ I say fiercely. ‘I’ll cast a spell and make a great forest spring up, or a magical mist rise, and turn us invisible. That’s when we disappear. Besides, help is coming. They all say help is coming.’

The Shadow hooks its rubbery arm under Daniel’s and I haul on his jacket. Together we manage to drag him into the ragged column that’s already shuffling towards the gates. One of the zookeepers is clouting people at random as they pass; the Shadow stumbles and almost falls as the blow from a whip
stock lands on the back of his head. We keep our eyes averted from the buses lined up like ravenous vultures, albino ones this time, waiting to pounce on the weakest, the sickest, and the old, to stoke their burning appetites. Soon we are alongside the lake, which is covered with a grey scum of ash, like the budding trees, and the clumps of yellow iris and kingcups at its edges. And the pale ghosts march with us: Papa, Erika, Annalies, Lena, Hanna …

‘
Me hot zey in dr’erd, me vet zey iberlebn, me vet noch derlebn
,’ they sing. ‘To hell with them, we will survive, we will yet survive.’

A large boot nudged Benjamin back into consciousness.

‘
Blau wie ein Veilchen
,’ said a voice. ‘That’s how it happens. First they get drunk as lords, then they start brawling, and finally this.’

‘Looks like one of the rats from Matzoh Island,’ growled a second man. ‘Beats me where they get the money for hard drinking.’

‘There’s always money for booze. Well, at least his troubles are over. Now he’s just another long-term resident for the
Zentralfriedhof.
Get him carted away.’

‘Sure he’s dead?’ This was a younger voice. Benjamin was almost certain he recognized it. He tried to speak, but his mouth felt as though it had been rammed full of rags. Nor could he open his eyes: something had glued them shut. By repeatedly working the muscles of his right cheek he managed to get one eyelid free. He was lying on his stomach on grass. Not a lawn. It was studded with dandelions and criss-crossed by dusty tracks. Morning, he thought. Tiny drops of dew hung from each blade and petal. And there was running water nearby, its smooth song interrupted by splashes and gurgles as though against some partially submerged object.

‘We’d better pull it further up the bank,’ suggested the first voice. ‘Ready? One, two, three …
heave!
’

A pair of startled ducks took flight, shrieking imprecations as their wings broke the water’s surface. Benjamin was aware
of hands grasping his shoulders but felt nothing else. His body no longer belonged to him. Now he could see the river, close by. Between the reeds, two moorhens were shovelling in the mud with their beaks. More dangerous was the large black raven strutting a few yards away.
Raben
went for the eyes. He groaned. ‘I’m alive.’ The words emerged as a rusty croak.

‘What was that?’ The youngest voice was much nearer now. Benjamin perceived a hazy black shape bending over him. Perhaps it was Death himself. And two more dark-clad figures. Witches … Finally he realized they were policemen.

‘D-don’t take me to the cemetery.’

‘Told you he wasn’t dead!’

The boot nudged him for a second time. ‘Turn him over.’

Again Benjamin felt nothing but the hands pulling at his shoulders. From the corner of his one good eye he saw the sky above, storm-grey with black striations.

Someone gave a short bark of laughter. ‘You’re right. Not a corpse. Not a pretty sight either.’

‘I’m not a corpse,’ protested Benjamin. The last thing he’d care about was being a pretty one. Something funny about this idea, but he couldn’t reach it. ‘I’m alive.’

‘See?’

‘Very well, Stumpf. In that case, arrange for him to be taken to the
Allgemeines Krankenhaus
. If he lives, well and good. If not, they’ll be dissecting him the minute he’s cold. The students have to practise on something. We’ll be obliging them, contributing to the
Leichenbücher.
’

The thought of ending up as a numbered cadaver for the teaching hospital terrified Benjamin. ‘Not the AKH,’ he gasped. ‘I work for an important physician. He’ll look after me.’ He suddenly was able to put a face to the name. Stumpf
was the small ginger-haired officer who’d been left to question him on the front doorstep the day Gudrun had run to the police with her crazy suspicions about Lilie. ‘Remember me – Benjamin? I work for
Herr Doktor
Josef Breuer, in Brandstätte. Tell them, Stumpf.’ There followed a short silence. He could feel their eyes peering at him.

‘Hard to tell,’ said Stumpf.

‘Collecting gossip,’ mumbled Benjamin. ‘Like an old granny.’

Stumpf sniggered. ‘And you’re the oversized scullery maid.’ Benjamin heard a creak of leather as the young policeman straightened. ‘Yes, I remember him now, though I wouldn’t have recognized him in this state. He’s definitely
Herr Doktor
Breuer’s servant. Shall I take the prodigal home?’

Sensation was slowly creeping back into Benjamin’s body, starting at his neck and inching downwards. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. He felt like the boneless meat of a
Schnitzel
vigorously tenderized by a mallet. Rough hands raised him into a sitting position. One of his arms swung loose but he didn’t wish to look at it. Not yet. His lips were swollen and sore. Salty taste in his mouth. Pain. And he suspected the small hard objects lodged under his tongue were broken teeth. As Benjamin was pulled upright, his gaze rested on Stumpf’s boots. He hoped the young officer had forgotten the disastrous effects of Gudrun’s improvised brass cleaner. He’d been incandescent with fury at the time. Fortunately, as he helped him towards the waiting carriage, it seemed Stumpf had set aside past grievances.

‘You’re in a bad way, scullery maid. How did you get into such a state?’

‘Six of them,’ mumbled Benjamin. He tried to say the name of the club, but the initial
th-
sound proved beyond him. Liquid
poured from his mouth but he lacked the energy to wipe it away. ‘Small girls,’ he said urgently, ‘prisoners there. Stolen like sheep. Rabbits. An old granny knitting something so long it must have been socks for the giant.’ His legs crumpled beneath him and he fell into pitch darkness. Benjamin felt himself lifted. Then a door slammed, followed by the slow double-clop of horseshoes against stone. ‘Is this the hearse?’

‘We’re taking you home.’ Stumpf’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. ‘Almost there now. Wish you’d tell me who did this to you.’

‘Giant,’ breathed Benjamin, as nightmare images started crowding back. He shuddered. ‘A cook, half man, half woman. The one with white hair held me down in front of the picture. Sleeping Beauty. They hit me with a broken nymph.’

Stumpf sighed. ‘Oh, well, never mind.’

‘All the girls came out to watch.’

‘By the way,’ enquired Stumpf. ‘How
is
the mad girl? I hear she’s a real looker.’

Josef had been awake for most of the night, making frequent trips to the stable to see if Benjamin had returned. Finally, he fell asleep over his desk. This was where Gudrun found him. Her face was lined and grey; she clung to a chair while attempting to impart her news.

‘The boy – Benjamin –’

‘What is it?’ Josef sprang to his feet.

Gudrun emitted a long, low wail. ‘How will I tell his mother? For pity’s sake,
Herr Doktor
, she mustn’t see him like that.’

‘Dead?’ An iron fist seemed to punch Josef hard in the solar plexus. ‘
Baruch dayan emet
,’ he muttered automatically. ‘Blessed be the one true judge.’ Then he added: ‘This is all my fault.’

The housekeeper stared. ‘According to the police, the young idiot had been drinking and fighting. How can the foolishness of youth be laid at your door?’

‘No, no.’ Josef kneaded his temples. ‘You don’t understand. I sent Benjamin on a fool’s errand. If it hadn’t been for me …’ He looked at her. ‘Where have they taken the body?’

‘They’ve brought him home to die,’ said Gudrun. ‘I told them to carry him to his room above the stables. Shall I see to his injuries? Give him something to lessen the pain? Perhaps I could make his passing easier. My –’

‘No!’ cried Josef. ‘Stop them. Benjamin must be brought into the house. I’ll care for him myself.’ He noted her sharp intake of breath. ‘With your help, of course, Gudrun, if you would be so kind. We’ll both care for him. The boy won’t die if we have anything to do with it.’

‘Very well,’ she agreed, apparently much mollified. ‘We can do our best.’ She turned and hurried from the room, leaving Josef to gather whatever might be necessary.

Even Gudrun’s warning didn’t prepare Josef for Benjamin’s sorry state. He examined the boy carefully, each discovery bringing a new rush of remorse. On three occasions, the boy had suffered violence because of his actions. This time Benjamin hovered on the precipice of death. Even if he lived he’d probably bear scars for the rest of his life. And all resulting from his employer’s lust. Josef fought to regain his professionalism. If he was to win this battle with the Angel of the Abyss, it was vital to set aside his emotions.

‘He’s a tough customer,’ Stumpf had said when they carried Benjamin in. ‘It’s a wonder he didn’t drown. God knows how he managed to crawl out of the river following a beating like that.’

Josef had merely nodded. God did indeed know, for He saw everything, including the shameful desires in the filthiest locked and bolted recesses of a man’s heart. He helped Gudrun cut away Benjamin’s sodden garments, recognizing with a sick lurch of his stomach that these were his son’s clothes, the ones he’d handed the boy after the previous beating. Mentally, he willed Stumpf to leave, but the young fool lingered. Josef guessed he’d never ventured this close to a man’s final moments before. Stumpf’s next blurted question confirmed this.

‘Will he die, do you think? He was raving earlier about nymphs and shepherds, and a sleeping beauty. He’s quiet enough now.’ Stumpf had stared doubtfully at Benjamin’s still and bloodied form. ‘I suppose that could be a bad sign.’ He jumped back as Gudrun pushed past him with a bowl of bloody rags. ‘I’d better go.’

‘More hot water, please, Gudrun.’ Josef continued to investigate Benjamin’s wounds, realizing it would be necessary to shave the boy’s head. A clot of blood had formed in his left ear; closer examination revealed it came from an internal injury. The condition of the left eye gave Josef equal cause for concern. He’d never seen such hideous swelling.

‘He’ll lose that eye,’ announced Gudrun. ‘Mark my words.’

‘Hush.’ Josef feared she was right. ‘The boy isn’t deaf.’

‘I’m surprised he isn’t dead,’ she said, though a fraction more quietly.

Benjamin stirred. ‘I’m not a corpse.’ A froth of red bubbles formed on his lips. ‘Don’t let them give me to the students to cut up. Don’t give me a number …’ With that he sank back into unconsciousness.

‘Fuchs is the man we need,’ said Josef, drawing the housekeeper to one side. ‘Gudrun, you must take a message to
Herr Doktor
Ernst Fuchs, head of the ophthalmic clinic at the university. Ask him to be so kind as to call on me urgently. There’s no better ophthalmologist in Vienna. If anyone can save Benjamin’s eye, he can.’ He turned back to the battered body lying on his son’s bed. No need to worry about being used for teaching practice. Benjamin’s body was too broken to be of much use. Almost savaged. Whoever tossed him into the river had clearly thought it was over for the boy.

Josef continued to work when Gudrun departed after hastily donning her best coat and hat. Wrapped in the room’s silence, intent on his stitching and manipulating, it took him a while to realize that hot water and fresh cloths continued to arrive, that another pair of hands was deftly placing his instruments within reach. When the last bandage had been secured, he carefully rolled the boy on to his side to remove the bloodstained draw-sheets. It was not a job to attempt alone and he was grateful for the two slim hands working alongside his. Then realization dawned.

‘Lilie!’ He hastily covered Benjamin’s naked form. ‘You shouldn’t be here, my dear.’ He hesitated. ‘It isn’t seemly –’

‘Poor Benjamin. What did they do this time?’

‘Knife wounds. Bruises. Some nasty breaks.’ Josef refrained from spelling out his worst fears. He guessed from Lilie’s expression that this wasn’t enough of an explanation and was grateful when Gudrun returned, bustling proprietorially into the room and setting things to rights. ‘He’ll be bedridden for some time, I’m afraid.’

‘More work,’ sighed Gudrun. She caught Josef’s eye. ‘Though I am sorry for the boy, naturally.’

‘Did you deliver my message?’

Gudrun nodded. ‘
Herr Doktor
Fuchs is attending to patients
all afternoon. He will come at his earliest convenience.’ Sighing again theatrically, she seized the bucket of soiled dressings and made for the door. ‘I’d better move this, since nobody else has bothered.’

‘You forced him to go,’ said Lilie suddenly.

Josef looked at her, astonished. ‘What do you mean, my dear?’

‘I begged him not to. I knew it would be dangerous. What did you say to make him go there?’

‘What do you know of the place?’ he countered. ‘If you could have told us more about the club, he wouldn’t have had to put himself in such danger.’

‘I know nothing about it,’ she answered quietly. ‘I’ve never been there, but anyone could see how frightened he was.’

‘You’ve never been there.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Oh.’ After a moment, he said: ‘Then where
did
you come from, Lilie?’

Her eyes slid away. ‘Look, the flowers are in here, too.’

‘They’re butterflies, my dear.’

‘Are you certain?’

‘Lilie,’ he said, more urgently, ‘where were you before you came here? Last month, say? What about last year? Where did you live? Yes, what about 1898? And what were you doing in 1897? Were you in Vienna for the 1895 elections –’

‘I told you. I didn’t exist before. At least, not like this. I was created to come here and –’

‘Stop it!’ Josef sank his forehead on to his palms. ‘Don’t.’ When he’d calmed himself, he added, more quietly: ‘Yes. You came to destroy the monster. I’m supposed to help you. Then tell me who created you, Lilie.’ He reached out with both hands, ‘Who is responsible for your beauty?’

‘Perhaps you are.’

Josef sighed heavily. ‘I think not.’ If it were possible to create objects to meet one’s deepest longings then nobody would need God.

‘Perhaps I invented myself. You, me, Benjamin’ – she waved her arm around the bedroom – ‘all of this.’ The light was fading: in that instant she looked smaller, somehow, younger, infinitely more vulnerable. ‘Do you think that’s possible?’

‘No.’ Josef continued to look at her. ‘No, Lilie. No.’

Lilie pointed to Benjamin. ‘The butterflies are being drawn to him.’

Josef detected that a new edge of fear had crept into her voice. She seized his arm.

‘What does that mean, Josef? What does it mean?’

There was a moment of panic as Benjamin realized he was in a proper bed with pillows and linen. He’d begged not to be taken to the hospital. If you were a poor man the price for medical attention was to be stamped with a number immediately after death and shunted into the dissecting room. Managing to get one eye open, he saw this wasn’t in fact the AKH. Nor was it his ramshackle lodging over the stables. Instead of warped boards with gnawed holes marking the abodes of rats and mice, the floor was highly polished, spread with a Turkey rug. The ceiling was smooth and white with an ornate central boss, totally lacking the familiar mud-daub nests of swallows tucked under rough-hewn beams. And it was in vain that Benjamin searched for the companionable barn owl that roosted by the unglazed window during the day. By raising his head a fraction he made out a mahogany wardrobe and matching chest, bookcases with volumes whose titles he was unable to read, and a large pair of ankles that he recognized all too well.