The Draughtsman. Robert Lautner

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СКАЧАТЬ was maybe ten years older than me but seemed ancient in comparison as if he had already lived one life and come back and remembered it all. I was the boy next to him. His uniform pristine like a wedding table, my clothes hanging around me with the wet morning. I could smell them above the car’s leather.

      ‘I never went to university. I envy you that. I could have. But I valued my duty more I suppose. But your duty is just as important. Your education will be a great asset to your country. We value that.’ He looked at me kindly. ‘When did you graduate?’

      ‘41.’ I added nothing else but he was ready to go on.

      ‘And you have only just found work?’

      ‘There was not a lot of work about.’

      ‘Ah. That is true. Did you not think of joining the war? For the time being? That is duty too, no?’

      ‘I married that year. I thought I would get a job sooner. I thought I would be helping the country by planning fighter craft by now.’

      ‘As did your wife I’ll bet? Women, eh? Look at me. I am going to the Anger and using up a day’s relief to buy something I do not want. And when I have to work Sunday to make up for it she will complain, eh? Women.’

      ‘I have only just started work and she has already spent my wage.’

      He slapped the wheel and I jumped at his laugh.

      ‘That is it! That is just so, Ernst! We married men only understand! Look at Klein. No wife, no children. What does he know? Something we do not for sure.’

      I did not know Klein was not married. I had assumed so. It bothered me. Unsure why. I thought everyone wanted to be married. Fool. Poor fool in a damp suit again. Riding in a car with an SS captain while Klein was at home fixing himself a bath and a Martini.

      ‘So, when did you join the Party, Ernst?’

      I had forgotten the pin, the proud pin still stuck to my lapel. I looked at it as if a scorpion had appeared there.

      I could say that Klein had given it to me. Given it to me for the reason he had said. To make the right impression. But that might get him into trouble. And myself. I had thought of Klein first. I was sure I should not treat a small tin badge with such flippancy. But if I said a year, a time, committed to it, there would be a paper somewhere to confirm. Everything, even my subsistence chits, were stamped with an eagle.

      ‘Oh. That would have been ’42. I think. To be honest, Captain, I am not political I must confess.’ I tried to say it the way Klein had done. ‘My wife insisted. Thought it would help with my career. They always know what is best for us.’ Now I was being more than the fool. I was playing it. I did not believe such sentiments about Etta. It is just what you say when you ride with an SS officer in his car. Your opinion his opinion.

      He laughed again.

      ‘That is the way! That is the way! Do you have children, Ernst?’

      ‘No, Captain. But when we have won the war we should think of it.’

      ‘Exactly. Just so. I have a son. My proudest gift. I envy him the country he will inherit. What is your wife’s name?’

      ‘Etta.’

      ‘A good name. My wife’s name is Emma.’ He grimaced. ‘I think it is too English.’

      ‘Not at all. Where are you shopping in the Anger, Captain?’

      He leaned his ear to me. ‘Hmm?’

      ‘The Anger. For your wife’s birthday.’

      ‘Oh. Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I have not thought on it. I have a few hours to waste.’

      ‘We do not see many SS officers in town. You will be stared at no doubt, Captain.’

      He nudged me with his elbow. Like a friend.

      ‘But I bet I get good service, eh? Now, where do you live for me to drop you?’

      I had not thought on this. An SS car to my door. The black and silver pennants flying, the runes on the licence plate, the twitch of curtains along the street. Etta watching from the window.

      ‘If you drive to the Anger I can walk from there. I do not want to trouble you, Captain.’

      ‘Nonsense. It is no trouble. None.’ Turned his face to me, eyes off the road. ‘Where do you live, Ernst?’

      *

      I did not mean to slam closed the door of the apartment. Etta, alarmed, staring at me from the sink as I stood with the door braced at my back.

      ‘Ernst? Are you all right?’

      ‘I’m fine.’ I went to the window, threw my hat and coat to the chair.

      ‘You are home early? Was there a problem at the camp?’

      ‘No. No problem.’ I looked through the net curtain. The black car still there. ‘But I missed the cafeteria lunch.’

      ‘That is why you look so pale. I will make a sandwich. What are you looking at?’

      The car sat there. No blue smoke from the back. Just sat there. Its flat roof looking up at me.

      ‘Frau Klein. Landlady patrol again. I had to run in. She was hovering around the door.’ This was partly true. Frau Klein had seen the captain open the car door for me from her ground-floor window. He bowed to me as I passed back his cap.

      A slam of a plate, the yell of my name like my mother’s scold.

      ‘Ernst!’

      I spun from the window, sure a rat had run out of a cupboard.

      ‘Why in hell … why are you wearing that pin?’

      I went back to the window. My eye up the street to the Anger, down to the station corner.

      The car gone.

       Chapter 9

      I rapped on Klein’s office door. The polite two-tone tap. A congenial pat-pat.

      He called me in, sat behind his desk with pen and journal.

      ‘Good morning, Ernst. You have my notes?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ I put the pad to his desk. Eight-thirty and I was already in my white-coat. I think he approved.

      ‘Sander will bring to your floor some plans for today. I will be chained to my desk, on administration for my labours. Prüfer is back from Auschwitz so we must all jump.’

      ‘It will be good to see Herr Prüfer again. If I get the chance, sir.’

      ‘I doubt it.’ He closed his pen. ‘He is in such СКАЧАТЬ