Chapter 12

Late April 1965

As we prepared and ate tea, I told Mutti about the ball – but leaving out the appearance of Mr Franks for the moment – I did not want to spoil the meal. As I related the trip to Finney-Isles and described the gown, Mutti frowned and fidgeted with the salt cellar, spilling some grains on the table.

After tea, Mutti’s concern came into focus. “Kal, you should have left everything there. She’s spent a great deal of money on you...” Mutti’s face mirrored the anxious edge in her voice.

Is Mutti worried that Aunt Anastasia is trying to buy my affection?

The reality of what she wanted was a bigger problem. “Well, I tried to leave everything there, but she wouldn’t let me.”

Mutti pulled a face.

Is she forgetting why we need her?

“I didn’t push any harder as I didn’t want to break the relationship when we need her...”

Mutti was frowning. “Yes, but ... what does she want?” Distrust hovered around the ‘she’.

I paused for a moment, thinking over the week I’d spent with her. “I don’t think Aunt Anastasia ever had children. I’m not sure if she was ever married.”

Mutti gave me a confused look.

“Everyone refers to her as ‘Miss Zaytseva’.” I went on, explaining about the diamond necklace and earrings. “I think she was sort of ... seeing me as the daughter she never had.”

Mutti’s concern pushed her eyebrows a few millimetres higher.

I took a deep breath. “But none of that is important...”

Mutti tensed and her eyes flared.

I swallowed, not sure how Mutti would react. “That man...” I looked closely at Mutti to make sure she understood I was talking about Mr Franks. “ ... was at the ball.”

“What?” Her voice snapped at me, pushing me into my chair.

She glanced away, controlling her surprise, giving herself time to think about what this might mean. “Sorry, Liebling.” She returned to me with an embarrassed smile. “Checking up on the Russians?” She righted the salt cellar that she’d knocked over.

“Sort of ... he talked to Aunt Anastasia and she was quite upset afterwards. I’d gone to the toilet and I don’t think he saw me.”

Mutti’s puzzled frown deepened. “What did he want with Miss Zaytseva?”

“This morning, she told me she’d been working for him, monitoring the Russians who arrived after the war.”

“And she told you this?” Mutti was incredulous. “She was taking a risk, revealing herself.”

“Yes...”

How is Mutti going to take this next revelation?

“Kal? What else?”

“She’s getting too infirm to be active in the Russian community. She’s been trying to find someone she can train to take her place – but without luck.”

“And?”

“She wants me to help her...”

Mutti’s face relaxed. “She is trying to buy your cooperation. I thought there was some ulterior motive.”

“I don’t think that’s true – but if it is, there’s more.” What Mr Franks was doing to her made me angry and thinking about him twisted my guts with fear at the same time. “That man is threatening her, like he did us. If she doesn’t find someone to help, he’ll destroy her reputation in the Russian community.”

Mutti mumbled. “He is a disgusting man.” She looked up at me. “And what did you tell her?”

“That I wanted to help her if I could. Nothing more.”

“Good.” She rewarded me with an approving look. “What do you think we should do now?”

I hadn’t thought about our next move – but I was surprised and pleased to be asked.

Mutti gave me an encouraging smile. “You know Miss Zaytseva best. Can we trust her?”

“Umm ... the trust thing runs both ways, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.” Mutti steepled her hands. “And?

“I think we should help her. I like her and hate what that man is doing to her ... and us.”

What do we do next? We need to be careful with Mr Franks.

“We need to work out how best to tell her ... and that man.”

“Indeed.” Mutti thought for a moment. “Are you sure he didn’t see you at the ball?”

“I don’t know for certain.” The image of him berating Aunt Anastasia was clear in my mind. “I don’t think so.”

“It probably doesn’t matter if he did.” Mutti thought for a moment. “But we need to let him know you are working your way into the Russian community. He mustn’t be surprised to see you with Aunt Anastasia.”

Mutti’s eyes lost their focus for a minute and I sat watching, her fingers playing with the spilled salt crystals as she contemplated our move.

After a minute, she breathed in deeply. “I need to set up a meeting with him. There’s too much to cover for a coded message.” Her eyes returned to me. “You are seeing Aunt Anastasia on Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“I need to meet with him before that.” She glanced up at the kitchen clock. “Give me ten minutes. Could you clear up the dishes whilst I write something?”

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later we walked out into the last rays of the sun, across the park and oval where I ran to the footpath alongside Kedron Brook. We walked to a battered old gum tree stump above the brook’s steep-sided gully. Mutti suggested we stop and sit for a moment. As we chatted about the golden light, Mutti checked the area and produced a small metal cylinder from a pocket, slipping it into a deep fissure in the gnarled stump. Shortly after, we returned on a different route, past a phone box. Mutti went in and rang a number, but hung up after a few rings and rang again to hang up once more after several more rings. We walked on in the dusk, Mutti quietly explaining that the number of rings in the two calls was code for a message to collect from a particular drop location.

As we approached our house, loud meows announced Imbi, sitting on the fence a few houses away from ours, complaining about our absence. He jumped down, twined himself around our legs in joyous greeting and scampered towards the house. He did that cat thing of following in front of you, looking to make sure he was following in the right direction.

In the morning, I went for my run and saw Mutti off to work after we had breakfast. Once I’d cleaned up, I rang Lizzie to see if we could meet up for a swim, but there was no reply. They must still be on the Gold Coast, although I thought they were returning yesterday. I decided to go later by myself as the rhythms of swimming beckoned me after more than a week away. I spent an hour writing to Willi, telling him about Aunt Anastasia and the ball. I mentioned a strange man that annoyed her as a reminder to tell Willi the hidden part of the story when he read it.

I’d sat down to read some more Tolkien with a kitten on my lap when the phone rang. It was Lizzie and we arranged to meet at the pool at half-past one.

My tram into the city was running late and Lizzie was waiting for me in the stands when I emerged from the changing room.

She bounced up and gave me a hug. “You’re late.” Softening the accusation with her blazing smile.

“And you’re tanned.” I replied.

She glanced down at her arms, now sporting a darker shade of bronze than before Easter. “I was on the beach for most of the time – and I’ve been learning to surf.”

My brow crinkled. “What’s that?”

“It’s where you ride the breaking waves to the beach on a surfboard.” Her eyes glazed in concentration and her body moved in memory. “It’s quite difficult, but it’s amazing to be rushing towards the beach, pushed along by the waves.” She breathed the exhilarating memory. “The good surfers stand on their boards, but I can’t do that yet – at least not for long.”

“I’m not sure I’d like that.” I’d never swum in the sea, but I’d watched storm-driven breakers crashing on to the beach at Herne Bay. “Isn’t it dangerous in the surf?”

Lizzie gave me a sideways glance. “I suppose it might be in gigantic waves. But you’re a strong swimmer – I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem. You could come with us the next time we go there.”

“Perhaps...” I could hear my lack of enthusiasm. I brightened my voice. “Anyhow, let’s swim.”

It was good to be in the pool, stretching out. I could feel my unused swimming muscles protesting and I didn’t push myself hard. Lizzie stormed away from me more than usual. Unlike me, she’d been swimming for most of the two weeks on the Gold Coast. After four lengths, I found Lizzie sitting on the edge of the pool waiting for me.

“Haven’t you been swimming while I’ve been away?”

I hung on to the side of the pool, breathing deeply. “Once – the first week. I was staying with my Russian teacher for the second week and all I could do was run.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re learning another language?”

My big mouth again, but I didn’t see any problem in Lizzie knowing this. “Well, yes ... sort of by accident.”

Lizzie laughed in disbelief. “How do you learn a language by accident?”

“After swimming on Saturdays, I go into the city and have lunch with this old Russian lady.” I smiled at Lizzie’s laughter. “She can’t get about much – she walks with a stick. I was supposed to be someone different for her to talk with, but when she heard I was learning other languages, she insisted on teaching me Russian.”

Lizzie shook her head, still laughing. “How many languages do you speak now?” She counted them off on her fingers. “English, French, German, Polish and now Russian. Five.” Her laughter made her splutter for a moment. “Five languages – that’s ridiculous. Why would anyone need to speak five languages?”

I pulled myself out, and as we walked over our towels, smiled at her. “You forgot Latin – but no-one speaks Latin anymore.”

Lizzie laughed some more. “You stayed with this Russian lady for a week? What did you do?”

“We practiced Russian and ... she took me to the Easter ball at the Russian Club.”

Lizzie stopped short. “You went to a ball?”

“Yes.”

Lizzie flopped down into her chair, pulling her towel around her shoulders. “That’s not you, Karlota. It should have been me.” She leant towards me, scrutinising my ears. “Your ears are pierced.”

I smiled at her. “So are yours.”

“Yes, but when I went away, yours weren’t. Was this part of the Ball thing?”

“Yes,” I giggled.

Lizzie grasped my hand as if to drag the details out of me. “You’re going to have to tell me all about it. What did you wear? Did you dance with some dark and handsome exiled Russian prince? Come on, all the details.” When Lizzie was excited, words poured from her.

I rubbed my towel through my hair and gave Lizzie a coquettish glance. “Would you believe I wore a fabulously expensive diamond necklace and earring set?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, you’d be wrong.” I pulled a superior face at Lizzie. “The Russian lady is Miss Zaytseva; but she told me to call her Aunt Anastasia though she’s no relation. Anyway, she leant me the diamond set her father gave her for her first ball.”

“Real diamonds?” Lizzie’s eyes were wide with awe.

I shrugged. “I think so. She has beautiful furniture and elegant things in her apartment. Her family were merchants in Vladivostok before they fled to China with their wealth in 1917 to escape from the Soviets. At the ball she wore a necklace and earrings dripping with rubies and emeralds.”

“Ooh. She sounds mysterious and glamorous.”

I stopped for a moment, recalling Aunt Anastasia’s story, such as I knew it. “I think she’s lonely. She has no family here in Australia. She’s seen as some sort of matriarch in the Russian community – everyone at the ball treated her with great respect.”

That’s not quite true, but Lizzie doesn’t need to know about that...

We sat and chatted about the ball – or rather, Lizzie interrogated me with the intensity of British intelligence. She wanted all the details: the dresses, the jewellery, my dance partners...

After about a quarter of an hour, I’d had enough. “Why don’t you come over to my house tomorrow? You can see everything ... not the diamonds, of course.” I stood up. “Come on, let’s swim again.”

Lizzie followed me, her brow wrinkled by a frustrated frown. “Okay – I’ll speak to my mother and ring you this evening.”

In the pool, we swam our individual training patterns before Lizzie announced she had to go to meet her mother in the city. I swam for another half an hour before I caught a tram home. As always, Imbi greeted me with exuberant enthusiasm. I relaxed for a while playing with him before going down under the house to catch up with work on the weights, under the watchful and critical eye of a ginger kitten. Later, Lizzie rang to say she’d be over about ten o’clock and we could go swimming again after that.

When Mutti walked in, I leapt up and turned on the radio. “Well? Any news?”

She shook her head. “I don’t expect to hear anything until tomorrow.”

“Lizzie’s coming over in the morning and then we’re going swimming.”

“Okay.”

Conscious of a week’s lack of swimming, I pushed myself on my morning run.

Euan and dodger arrived and watched my last circuit. “Ye’s not bin runnin’ for a week, lassie.”

I leant on my knees to catch my breath. Euan watched me in silence. After a minute, I stood up. “I ran in the Botanic Garden rather than here. I was staying with my Russian teacher in the city.”

Euan stretched fully upright. “Why’s ye lairnin’ Russian?”

“Because I can, I suppose.” I shrugged. “I like languages and I’m good at them.”

Euan sniffed. I don’t think he approved of Russia – and, by association, of my learning the language.

He pursed his lips. “Anyhow, if’n ye’ were in the city, did ye see the ANZAC march on Sunday?”

It was my turn to blink. “What’s ANZAC?”

“Ha, ye need to lairn this if’n ye’s t’be an Aussie. ANZAC is Australian and New Zealand Army Corps – from the first war. ANZAC day is when we remember the sacrifice of the fallen in the wars.” His voice softened. “They let me march as I sairved, same as them.”

I could see Euan didn’t feel awkward in teaching a half-German girl about this.

“I didn’t know about ANZAC day – or a march.” A memory surfaced. “Early on Sunday morning, when I was out running in the Botanic Garden, I heard a trumpet call. Was that part of this?”

“Aye, lassie. T’was the last post, I reckon. They play that for the fallen...” His voice and eyes fell away. After a moment’s silence, he looked up. “An’ t’other matter?”

My brain cycled a few times before I realised he meant Vogel.

“I don’t know. Perhaps you’re right ... it’s best to do nothing.”

Euan’s eyes were piercing. “‘Tis yer mother not you t’ decide, ain’t it?”

I pursed my lips. I didn’t want my mouth running away from me again.

Euan watched my silence. “Well, I’ll bid ye g’day.” He turned, walking slowly to allow for Dodger’s slow gait. I stood watching them for a minute before turning for home.

I showered and ate breakfast with Mutti before seeing her off to the tram. Lizzie would be round later – and a wicked thought occurred to me. In the meantime, I sat down to add to Willi’s letter. When Lizzie arrived, I greeted her at the door, dressed and made up as I had been for the ball.

Lizzie stopped dead. “Wow, Kal.” She scanned me from head to foot. “You look amazing. Is this what you wore to the ball?”

“Yes ... except I’m not wearing Aunt Anastasia’s diamonds.”

Once Lizzie’d inspected everything, we went to my room and I changed into normal clothes. As I hung the gown up, Lizzie saw the red Chinese robe and reached past me, pulling it out on its hangar.

“Where did you get this?” I could hear the awe in her voice as she fingered the material, looking up at me. “It’s silk.”

“Aunt Anastasia gave it to me. She has a beautiful wattle-yellow one.”

Lizzie slipped on the robe, twirling in front of the mirror. “Your Russian teacher is a generous lady.”

I waved at the finery in my wardrobe. “I tried to leave all this behind – she must have spent a lot at Fenny-Isles. But she insisted I take everything.” I looked at the gown in its dust bag hanging in the wardrobe. “I don’t know when I’ll ever wear that again.”

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