Alone in Berlin (Penguin Modern Classics)

37

The Second Warning

One Sunday morning, Anna said a little nervously to her Otto, ‘I think it’s time we visited my brother Ulrich again. You remember, it’s our turn. We haven’t been to see the Heffkes for eight weeks now.’

Otto Quangel looked up from his writing. ‘All right, Anna,’ he said. ‘What about next Sunday? Is that all right?’

‘This Sunday would be better for me, Otto. I think they’re expecting us.’

‘But one Sunday’s the same as any other to them. It’s not as though they have any extra work, the pussyfooters!’

And he laughed sardonically.

‘It was Ulrich’s birthday on Friday,’ Anna put in. ‘I baked a little cake for him that I’d like to take. I’m sure they’re expecting us today.’

‘I wanted to write a letter as well as this card,’ said Quangel grumpily. ‘That was my plan. I don’t like to make changes.’

‘Please, Otto!

‘Couldn’t you go on your own, Anna, and tell them I’ve got my rheumatism? You’ve done it once before.’

‘And just because I’ve done it before, I don’t want to do it again,’ Anna begged. ‘It’s his birthday…’

Quangel looked at his wife’s beseeching expression. He wanted to oblige her, but the prospect of leaving his parlour today made him unhappy.

‘But Anna, I wanted to write the letter today! The letter’s important. I’ve thought about it long and hard… I’m sure it will have a great effect. And then I know all your childhood stories, Anna, I know them all by heart. It’s so boring at the Heffkes’. I’ve got nothing to say to him, and your sister-in-law sits there in silence, too. We should never have got involved with relatives, family is a nightmare. You and I are enough for each other!’

‘All right, Otto,’ she half conceded, ‘then let’s make today our last visit. I promise you I won’t ask to go again. But today, when I’ve baked my cake and it’s Ulrich’s birthday! Just this once! Please, Otto!’

‘Today is especially inconvenient,’ he said. But finally, overcome by her imploring eyes, he growled, ‘All right, Anna, I’ll think about it. If I can finish two cards by lunchtime…’

He finished his two cards, and so at around three o’clock the Quangels left their apartment. They had intended to take the U-Bahn as far as Nollendorfplatz, but just before Bülowstrasse, Quangel suggested they get off there – maybe they could do something.

She knew he had the two postcards in his pocket, understood what he meant right away, and nodded.

They walked down Potsdamer Strasse a ways, without seeing a suitable building. Then they had to turn right into Winterfeldtstrasse, otherwise they would end up too far away from Heffkes’ place. They carried on looking there.

‘It’s not such a good area as round ours,’ Quangel said unhappily.

‘And remember, it’s a Sunday as well,’ she added. ‘Be careful!’

‘I am careful,’ he replied. And then: ‘I’m going in there!’

Already, before she had time to say anything, he had vanished into a building.

For Anna the minutes of waiting now began, those painful minutes in which she was terrified for Otto but could do nothing but wait.

Oh God, she thought, looking at the building, this building doesn’t look good at all! I hope to God it goes smoothly! Perhaps I shouldn’t have talked him into coming here today. He really didn’t want to, I could tell. And it wasn’t just on account of the letter he wanted to write. If something happens to him today, I will never forgive myself! Here he comes now…

But it wasn’t Otto leaving the building, it was a lady who fixed Anna with a sharp look before going on her way.

Did she just give me a suspicious look? I could have sworn she did. Has something happened in the building? Otto’s been in there such a long time already, it must be all of ten minutes! Ach, I ought to know better, I’ve done it often enough: if you stand and wait outside a building, time always seems to crawl past. Thanks be to God, here he is at last!

She started to walk up and greet him – then stopped dead.

Because Otto hadn’t come out alone. He was in the company of a very tall gentleman in a black coat with a velvet collar, half whose face was disfigured by a bright red birthmark. In his hand the gentleman carried a large black attaché case. Without exchanging a word, the two men passed Anna, whose heart turned over with fear, in the direction of Winterfeldtplatz. She set off after them with almost fainting feet.

What’s happened now? she asked herself fearfully. Who is the gentleman walking alongside Otto? Is he from the Gestapo? He looks awful with that birthmark! They’re not saying a word to each other – Oh my God, if only I hadn’t approached Otto. He acted as though he didn’t know me, so he must be in danger! That dratted card!

Suddenly Anna could stand it no longer. She could take no more of the painful uncertainty. With a sudden access of determination, she overtook the two gentlemen and stopped in front of them. ‘Herr Berndt!’ she called out, and gave Otto her hand. ‘I’m lucky to run into you! You must come to us right away. I have a burst pipe and the whole kitchen is under water…’ She broke off, with the sensation that the man with the birthmark was looking at her very strangely, condescendingly, almost contemptuously.

But Otto said, ‘I’ll come by as soon as I can. I’m just escorting the doctor to my wife.’

‘I can go on ahead, if you want,’ said the man with the birthmark. ‘Seventeen Von Einem Strasse, did you say? All right. I’ll see you very shortly.’

‘In a quarter of an hour, doctor, I’ll be there in a quarter hour at the latest. I’ll just go and turn off the main tap.’

Ten steps further on, he pressed Anna’s arm to his chest with unusual fervour. ‘You were terrific, Anna! I didn’t know how to get rid of the guy! What inspired you to do that?’

‘Who was he? A doctor? I thought he must be in the Gestapo, and I couldn’t stand the uncertainty any longer. Otto, slow down, my legs are shaking. What happened? Does he know anything?’

‘Nothing at all. Be calm. He doesn’t know a thing. Nothing happened, Anna. But ever since this morning, when you said you wanted to go to your brother’s, I haven’t been able to shake off a bad feeling. I thought it was because of the letter I was planning to write. And then it was the boredom at the Heffkes’. But now I know it was because I had the feeling something was going to happen today. I should never have left home…’

‘So something did happen, Otto?’

‘No, not at all. I told you nothing happened, Anna. I’m going up the stairs and am about to put down the postcard, I’ve got it in my hand, then this man comes running out of his apartment. I tell you, Anna, he was in such a hurry he almost bowled me over. I had no time to put the card back in my pocket. “What are you doing here?” he shouts. Well, you know I always make a habit of remembering one of the names on the signs on the door. “I’m looking for Dr Boll,” I say. “That’s me!” he says. “What’s the matter? Is someone sick at home?” Well, what can I do but play along? I tell him you’re sick, and could he visit. Thank God I think of the name Von Einem Strasse. I thought he would say he would come in the evening, or tomorrow morning, but he shouts, “Great! It’s on my way! Come with me, Herr Schmidt!” – I said I was called Schmidt, you know, lots of people are.’

‘Yes, and I called you Herr Berndt in his hearing,’ Anna cried out in alarm. ‘He must have noticed that.’

Quangel stopped in consternation. ‘You’re right!’ he said, ‘I didn’t even think of that! But it didn’t really seem to bother him. The street’s deserted. There’s no one coming after us. Of course he’ll look in vain in Von Einem Strasse, because we’ll be sitting with the Heffkes.’

Anna stopped. ‘You know, Otto,’ she said, ‘now it’s my turn to say let’s not go to Ulrich’s today. Now I have the feeling today’s an unlucky day. Let’s go home. I’ll drop the cards tomorrow.’

But he shook his head and smiled. ‘No, no, Anna, now we’ve come this far, let’s fulfil our obligation. We agreed it was going to be our last visit. And anyway I don’t want to go to Nollendorfplatz right now either. We might run into the doctor.’

‘Then give me the postcards, at least! I don’t want you running around with the cards still in your pocket!’

After some initial resistance, he gave her the two postcards.

‘It really isn’t a good day, Otto…’