Chapter 14

Mid-December 1963 – late February 1964

My mother did indeed want to speak with Mrs. Wiśniewski about Col and me spending time with Lili in her house, alone and unsupervised. Would it be appropriate for two boys to be alone in a house with a girl? I suppressed a smile: my mother didn’t know Col was a girl, and I was spending hours each week alone with her. But she also didn’t know about the promise Mutti Frida had extracted from us.

“Are you sure you can cope with adding another language on top of everything else you are doing?” My mother’s voice was full of concern.

“I won’t let it interfere with my other studies. After all, it will be the same as what Col and I did when he was learning English and I, German. That didn’t seem to cause a problem.” I thought back to how we’d worked together. “In fact, because we had to explain things several times in both languages, it deepened our understanding.”

“Well, we’ll see. I still have to sort things out with Mrs. Wiśniewski.”

“OK.” I changed the subject. “May I take some mince pies to Col’s house on Christmas Eve? Lili will be there too, so I think we might need a dozen this time...”

My mother laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I picked up yesterday’s newspaper and sat, leafing through it. The attempted assassination of JFK didn’t seem to have stirred things up – at least not on the surface. I saw no signs of increased tension between the east and west. In fact, the opening of the Berlin Wall for the first time, allowing westerners to visit the east, suggested that tensions might be easing. International politics was strange.

An item well back in the newspaper discussed the trial of twenty-one Auschwitz guards in Frankfurt. It seemed the prosecutor was unhappy with the charges brought against the defendants. Under German law, even for the guard responsible for operating the gas chambers, charges of accomplice to murder could only be brought as he was ‘following orders’. I wondered what Mutti Frida thought of this. I knew she had stopped hating them but had never forgiven those responsible for what had happened to her and her parents – along with millions of others.

Despite the surface calm between east and west, MI6 had been pushing Mutti Frida about her husband.

Did they want to use his Nazi past against him, blackmailing him to pass information? Had been any pressure brought to bear on West Germany to conduct these trials. If so, would it remind those involved in the Nazi regime of what they had done? Would that make Herr Schmidt more biddable?

I pondered this as I lay in bed, before drifting off to sleep.

Col and I walked into town the next day and visited the art supplies shop in a street off the High Street. They knew Lili well and pointed out the sketchbook she liked, so we picked one up. Col asked about the special crayons Lili had been talking about and they showed us the huge colour-sorted array. We picked out a dozen with the help of the shop owner.

“We could wrap each crayon separately, you know,” Col said, with a wicked glint in her eye. “That would make it all look much more impressive.”

“But that would take lots of paper too,” I countered.

“True.” Col’s smile held a hint of devilry. “But it would be fun to see her realise what we’d done.” We wandered along the High Street, browsing the shop windows.

“Will your father be there for Christmas?” Col asked.

He had been absent most of the year, staying in London almost every week and some weekends. Memories of last year flared, raising spectres my young brain quailed before. “I suppose so.” Even I knew my voice sounded monotonal and dead.

Col sensed my sudden tension. “Sorry, Willi. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was thinking of the Christmases we had when I was little, before Mutti learned of my father’s past. It all seemed so magical: Mutti, father and I singing carols in front of the Christmas tree with the glow of the candles flickering gently about us.”

We walked on for a few paces.

“I don’t think either of us will have a family Christmas again.” Col’s voice was also flat now.

I glanced at her and I could see my pain echoed in her eyes, and then something occurred to me. “No, I think you’re wrong.”

“What?”

“Think about it.” I smiled at her. “We will have our own families one day.”

“Or our own family.” A coquettish smile accompanied the remark.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is Mutti Frida ready to be a grandmother, then?”

Col blushed and stuck her tongue out at me. We both laughed, lifting our mood.

Once back at Col’s house, we wrapped up Lili’s present with the crayons in one parcel and the sketchbook in another and added them to the pile under the tree. I had my presents for Col and Mutti Frida in my bag and added them. I was pleased to find a collapsing umbrella that Mutti Frida could put in her bag. It was quite expensive but worth it for her.

At home that evening, my school report had arrived. My mother had left it on the kitchen table, unopened.

I stared at her, confused.

Why hadn’t she read it?

“I left it for you to open and read it, Will,” my mother said, as if reading my thoughts.

I turned the envelope with the school crest over in my hands.

My mother sat opposite me.

“You’re not worried about what it says, are you, Will?”

I glanced at her. “No.” My voice sounded unconvincing. What had happened the previous Christmas hung between us.

I slid a finger under the flap and folded open the report. I read through it in silence.

“Well?”

I slid the report across the table and my mother picked it up. After a minute, she folded it and smiled at me. “Excellent, Will. All your teachers speak highly of you.” She picked up the report again, re-reading some entries. Then she peered up at me. “You’ve come such a long way in the last twelve months, Will. It’s almost unbelievable, seeing it laid out here in your report.”

I shifted in my chair, embarrassed. My old brain found the schoolwork easy, but I couldn’t tell my mother that. I changed the subject, “Col and Lili may go to school in Canterbury next term.”

My mother raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Their school has recommended they transfer to the grammar school there.”

“Good for them.” My mother stood up. “Well, I can’t sit here. There are mince pies and everything else to make, after all.” As my sister was not around to chase me out of the kitchen, I spent a cosy hour with my mother, helping make the stuffing and forcemeat balls for the roast goose.

Both Col and Lili received confirmation of their transfer to the Grammar School before Christmas. When Col got her letter, I had assumed we would travel together on the number seven bus I had been taking, but with Lili going as well, that wouldn’t work so well. It was easiest for her to take a number six. We talked about this, with Lili pointing out that we would all be travelling back together if we were going to work on our language program at her house. That was not certain yet, as my mother and Mrs. Wiśniewski hadn’t spoken.

“I’ll chase her up about this tonight when I get home and let you know tomorrow.”

Col smiled. “Okay, I hope she lets us do it. It will be so much fun working together.”

Lili gave Col a tentative smile.

“Come on, Lili. It will be fun – don’t worry. We’ll work on our homework together in German and Polish.” Col glanced over at me. “Should we do the alternate day thing again?”

I nodded. “Good idea.”

Lil seemed a bit lost, her eyes widening.

“Sorry, Lili. When Willi and I started learning each other’s languages at my house after school, Mutti made us speak only English or German on alternate days.”

Col stared at Lili, smiling. “It will be easier as we share English. With Willi at first, there was a lot of fumbling around trying to explain things when we had almost no language in common.”

Col stopped, delight brightening her face. “Oh, I can’t wait to see your uncle Brian’s face when I turn up at the garage and ask, in Polish, for a drive in an E-type.”

Lili chuckled at that.

As I was leaving, Col told me she was busy in the morning. “Mutti and I have to go into the school to sign some papers and pick up an information pack.”

“I’ve already got mine,” Lili interjected.

I gathered Col in my arms. “That’s okay. My mother wants me to help her with some stuff. I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you come over about three o’clock?”

We shared a kiss, interrupted by a cough from Lili.

I was embarrassed. “Sorry, Lili.”

We broke apart and now Lili seemed embarrassed. “No, I’m sorry. I was joking. It’s fine by me for you to kiss.”

Was Lili feeling left out?

Rather than cause further problems, I gave Col a peck on the cheek and turned to the door.

Lili pulled my shoulder, turning me round. “No, give her a proper kiss.” Her eyes apologised, so Col and I kissed. Lili and I both left, heading home along Seaview Avenue in opposite directions.

In the morning, I helped my mother with cleaning around the house, vacuuming through the downstairs and then polishing the parquet floor in the hall. As I worked, I could smell baking aromas wafting in from the kitchen. When I finished and put the vacuum and polisher back in the cupboard under the stairs, I wandered into the kitchen. I saw several racks of mince pies cooling whilst my mother finished a couple of trays of sausage rolls, brushing them with milk, ready to slide them into the oven.

I leant over a rack of mince pies, savouring their rich, fruity aroma. “Mm.”

“Don’t you touch them, Will,” my mother scolded. “They’re for Christmas.”

I was already imagining their rich taste on my tongue as I glanced at her, an unspoken question in my eyes.

My mother smiled. “Yes, there’s a dozen for you to take tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” I pottered around, helping her and my sister with the preparations for Christmas day. I peeled potatoes to sit in salted water so they did not brown, prepared a pile of Brussel sprouts and broke up bread for the bread sauce.

Christmas Eve dawned cloudy, cold and wet – a typical English winter’s day. After breakfast, my mother set me to polish the dining room table and sideboard, ready for Christmas dinner. I was to be at Col’s house at four o’clock and the day dragged. I got myself ready an hour early and had to wait around. My latest library book held me before I finally headed to Col’s house as dusk settled the clouds lower over the bare-armed trees.

Mutti Frida answered the door. “The girls are in the lounge room, waiting for you.” She smiled and cocked an eyebrow.

Hmm...

I took off my coat and gloves and opened the door. The Christmas tree lights lit the room with a soft glow. Two beautiful girls standing beside the tree shocked me to stillness. Lili’s golden hair caught the lights as it cascaded over her shoulders, setting off her pink floral chiffon dress. Beside her stood a dark-haired beauty with shining eyes wearing a dark blue dress; her short hair arranged to accent her face.

“Oh, wow. You are both so pretty.” But my eyes were on Col.

The girls smiled. Lili nudged Col towards me and we embraced.

“You’re beautiful, Col,” I whispered. Col leant up and we kissed.

I held her at arm’s length. “I love your dress. Where did you get it?”

Lili came over and fiddled with the material on Col’s right shoulder, readjusting its already perfect fit. “Well, we couldn’t take Col out and buy her a new dress,” Lili said. “It’s a dress that no longer fits me – I only wore it twice before a growth spurt made me too big for it. We – well, Frau Schmidt – adjusted it for Col. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” I gazed at Col again, unable to focus on anything else. “You are beautiful.” I leant in and planted another gentle kiss on Col’s lips, and she snuggled up to my side. Col wore somewhat baggy clothes to help disguise her shape, but this dress showed off her figure. She was more svelte than Lili, but had gentle curves in all the right places, which I could see for the first time.

I gave Lili a look of gratitude. “Thank you for helping Col with this.” I noticed Mutti Frida standing in the doorway. I caught her eye. “You have a beautiful daughter, Mutti Frida.”

“Ah, yes. But she’s not my little girl anymore,” she said, her love shining through. Then she clapped her hands. “Come along. Dinner is ready.”

The traditional meal I had first enjoyed a year before was repeated, but my mother’s mince pies accompanied the Dresdner Stollen. After the meal, we exchanged presents. Lili’s face lit up as she opened the sketchbook and crayons. The lady in the art supplies shop remembered which crayons Lili had purchased and told us to buy ones to complement them.

When Col opened the box, her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Willi. It’s beautiful.” I smiled and she lifted it so Lili and her mother could see it.

“Go on, Willi, fasten it around her neck,” Mutti Frida said.

Col’s short hair made it easy. As I fastened it, a shiver of delight passed through Col. When I stepped back, I saw Lili watching, a smile on her face but her eyes betraying her sadness. A week ago, she had hoped Col, as a boy, would have these feelings for her. On an impulse, I pulled Col to her feet and beckoned Lili to join us. As she approached, I took her hand and placed it on Col’s far shoulder and then gathered both girls into a three-way hug. For a moment, Lili resisted, but then she reached round, pulling us more tightly together. We held the hug for a few seconds before pulling apart. We stood there, holding hands and smiling at one another in our deepening friendship.

As we separated to sit down, I saw Mutti Frida watching, a sad smile on her face, her juxtaposed joy and sadness familiar to me. I had watched my son and daughter grow into their teens, then become adults and all too soon forge their own paths in life. I moved to where she was sitting and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Mutti Frida.”

She held my eyes for a moment and then nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Christmas day at my house passed with subtle tensions, but last year’s sharp edges and gouging points were more rounded. Perhaps my father’s disinterest blunted them. Christmas had none of the love and joy of the previous night. I tried to help my mother as much as I could, but I found my sister glaring at me; she must have felt I was trying to usurp her position. As soon as I could, I retreated to my bedroom with my mother’s Christmas present – a beautiful, boxed set of The Lord of the Rings. She had noted my delight in The Hobbit.

After another discussion with Mrs. Wiśniewski, my mother agreed that Lili, Col and I could gather at Lili’s house after school to start our Polish language program. Mutti Frida would meet us there when she finished work. Col and I would walk home with her. After consulting the bus timetables, Lili found that the number seven bus left from the Herne Bay bus station near her house, so she could catch it there. Col and I would join her at our bus stop near my house.

As the holidays ended, Mutti Frida decided that Col would have to continue as a boy in public, as there were too many problems with becoming a girl again. Col wasn’t happy about this, but at least she had Lili as a friend at school who knew she was a girl. They were in all the same classes, so they could support one another against any bullying. Lili had no discernible foreign accent and Col’s German accent was now almost imperceptible. But their last names were still foreign and that might be a problem.

On the first day of school, Col arrived at my front gate and we walked to the bus stop together. As the bus pulled up, I saw Lili waving at us. After showing our season tickets to the bus driver, we walked down to join her. The single-decker bus was four seats across, with two on each side of the aisle. The only wider seat was right at the back, occupied by some other teens, so Col joined Lili and I sat across the aisle, which made conversation difficult.

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Robert Hart

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