Opposite Sides (35 page)

“
Mr Resmel?
I’m Sister Ellsworth.”

She held out
her hand. Her grip was firm and sincere. Hans could not think why
the ward sister should want to talk with him. After all, babies and
their needs were a woman’s domain. Very little to do with him.
“You’ve noticed that your wife is extremely tired. Well, it’s not
completely unusual after such a difficult birth but . . . ” Hans
felt a shot of adrenalin shoot through his body and make his heart
jump. It was that word ‘
but
’
It had
been spoken with such clarity and precision. The tone sounded
ominous. “. . . as she is still hemorrhaging and has lost a lot of
blood, she is very weak and together with a slight heart condition
. . .”

“
Heart
condition?” Hans had no previous knowledge and Caroline had never
said.

“
Minor. There
is a very slight misbeat. Do you know if she had ever had rheumatic
fever?”

“
Sorry, no.
Is it a bad thing?” He had never heard about this condition and did
not like to show his lack of knowledge.

“
Not to
worry.” The sister put away the small notepad she had been holding
into her top pocket. “You are lucky the midwife decided to bring
her in or you would not be looking at such a beautiful baby. You
realise your wife will have to stay in hospital as she needs
complete bed-rest until she’s strong enough to cope. Have you got
anyone who could help you when she goes home? Her mother,
perhaps?”

“
No. There’s
no one.” Hans felt a tugging in his heart as though his whole chest
was about to explode. Alarm made his voice shaky. “She will be all
right, won’t she?” he asked.

Sister did not directly
answer his question. She reached out to him and gently touched his
arm.

“
We will wait
until the doctor has been,” she said. “With such cases as your
wife
’s
, we must
wait and put our trust in God. You may visit every afternoon at two
but visits must be kept very short. Now, I suggest you return home
and rest yourself. There’s nothing you can do. She is in good
hands. Nurse will see you out.”

“
You will
keep me informed?” There was concern in his voice.

“
Of course.
We have the telephone contact number. What a godsend these modern
devices are.” She smiled briefly but her eyes betrayed her concern.
“Try not to worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

When he left the hospital
grounds, all he wanted to do was walk. It didn’t matter where. He
had to do something. He caught a tram to the Victoria Embankment
terminus and wandered along the wide Embankment footpath. He
watched the barges and boats going up and down the dark-grey Thames
for a while. It had started to drizzle yet he ignored the fact that
it was beginning to dampen his clothes. In his haste to see his new
daughter, he had completely forgotten to grab his umbrella from the
stand in the hall.

After a few hours Hans
returned home. The place was silent, cold and empty. He had not
realised how lonely a small place could be when there was no one to
welcome you home. He had become accustomed to Having Caroline there
whenever he arrived each evening from work. Now he realised how
much he missed her. Oh, God, was it awfully quiet.

He walked into their
small bedroom and gave the wooden cot a push with his hand to make
it rock. Caroline had prepared it well and had placed baby clothes
neatly on top of the soft, warm blankets. Soon, their tiny baby
would lie there and then they would be complete as a
family.

He returned to the front
room and poured himself a drink. He still did not like English ale
much but in such a situation he would have drunk anything. He
decided to forego his meal and go straight to bed. Tomorrow would
be another day.

Hans visited the hospital
every day for almost a week, each day talking to Caroline and
telling her how much he loved her. Occasionally she would open her
eyes and smile at him. Her beautiful, warm, loving smile. And then
she would go back to sleep and he would sit and stare at the bland,
blank walls of the room.

Late on Tuesday morning,
Mr Scrover called Hans into his office. They had all been working
hard to complete some accounts that had been requested by one of
the firms they dealt with. Hans could not think of any mistakes he
might have made but with the events over the past week he was no
longer sure of anything.

“
There’s
someone on the telephone asking to speak to you, Mr Resmel.
Normally, I do not allow employees to make use of our telephone
facility but this time I think it sounds rather urgent.”

Hans nodded but said
nothing. Someone ringing this number? A coolness crept across his
shoulders. At first he wondered whether it was Renard ringing
because he had found out about Caroline but he quickly put that
idea out of his mind. On the otherhand, it could be Uncle Karl as
news coming out from Germany was not good at the moment and uncle
wanted someone to complain to. He took the microphone from Mr
Scrover as if it were made from delicate glass and brought his ear
as close as possible to the fixed ear-piece on the centre of the
wooden box.

“
Hello. This
is Mr Resmel.”

The reply came instantly.
It was not a call from Germany. Hans recognised the voice: it was
the hospital sister only this time she sounded very serious and
stiff and reminded him somewhat of Miss Turner when she had scolded
him.

“
I think you
should come immediately,” said the voice on the end of the line.
She sounded serious. “Your wife is very ill. The bleeding has been
far heavier than it should be.”

Hans was almost unable to
comprehend that his dear Caroline could be in so much danger. He
could only mumble faintly.

“
I’m coming.”
Then, he suddenly remembered where he was. “That is allowed, is it
not, Mr Scrover? It is Caroline. May I leave?”

“
You may, me
lad,” answered his boss as he took the ear-piece from Hans and
replaced it on its hanger. “Take the rest of the day and the next,
if needed. I’ll get one of the lads to cover your area. ‘n good
luck, lad. We’ll all be thinking of you.”

Hans found himself biting
hard on his little finger. He had not done that for a long time. It
had become a little habit he had acquired during childhood ever
since Mutti had taken sick and died.

What followed became an
echo of reality, a dreamlike state in which he reacted without
consciously being aware of his surroundings. At some time he must
have contacted Anne, for when he arrived at the nursing home, there
was Anne waiting for him.

“
Try not to
worry. It’s probably not as bad as everyone thinks.”

When the sister spoke to
him he couldn’t remember what the details were only that Caroline
was bleeding far heavier than normal and there was nothing they
could do about it. All Hans could think of was, that his beloved
Caroline was going to die and that he was on the brink of losing
her just as they had their whole life ahead of them. Finally, his
dry throat managed to make a feeble sound and the half-whispered
question was the result of a great effort.

“
Can I see
her?”

“
Only for a
very short time. We’ve done all we can for her. It’s now up to
nature. We just hope there’s no infection. We cannot do much to
stop that. We’ve only got one chance left, a new way of trying to
stem the flow of blood. We need your consent.”

She held out a consent
form, and after dipping the pen in the bottle of ink, he wrote his
name. It was hardly a signature, more of a shaky mark.

Caroline’s eyes were
closed when he tip-toed into the room. Her face felt cold when he
bent over and kissed her cheek yet her body was moist and hot with
sweat. She stirred. Her eyes opened as if from a deep sleep. Her
beautiful grey-blue eyes were now dull and listless.

“
Hello,” she
whispered faintly. “Don’t you think she has grown these past few
days?” She paused and drew in a lingering breath. “She’s a strong
baby. Do you think our daughter beautiful?”

“
Yes,” he
answered bending over the bed. He kissed her lightly on the
forehead. “I think she is the most beautiful baby in the
world.”

Caroline suddenly winced
and he shared her pain. If only he could do something. His body
ached for her to be well again. He wanted to take away all her
misery so that she could tease him and laugh with him, as she used
to. His need for her was greater than ever now. She was the mother
of their daughter and who would not love little Andrea more than
her own mother? He felt utterly helpless as his wonderful world
began to grow ugly.

“
Hans. Erwin
. . . ”

It sounded just like
Mutti. This was the first time Caroline had ever called him that.
Despair overtook him and he buried his grieving face in his hands.
Surely, there was hope. Had not the sister given him a little
hope?

Ach, Du,
lieber Gott
! He cried out in silent
desperation. He stared down into the little bassinet beside the
bed. Only the top of the baby’s head was visible under the tightly
wrapped cloths. He turned away. He was not ready to leave but he
knew his time was up. The nurse held the door open for him and he
stumbled out of the room. His legs were weak and shaky and his face
an ashen-grey. He braced his hands against the wall and let the
quietness of the ward wash over him like the waves on a lonely
beach.

CHAPTER
13

The Rising
Storm

Several years had now
passed since Caroline had died. The Baldwin government had been
thrown out and the new Prime Minister was Mr Ramsay MacDonald. The
stock market had crashed in New York and many people’s savings had
dissolved into the large black hole the money crisis had created.
The world was sliding downwards into what became known as the Great
depression. But before that took hold and during a few years
before, Hans had immersed himself in his work, and put every spare
penny he could save into an investment account for his little
daughter. At the time, it was the best he could do for
her.

Things had been very
tough for him during those first weeks after he had lost Caroline.
The funeral was over and after that came the emptyness and
realisation that she was gone forever. Hans had descended into the
depths of despair and even his friends had not been able to console
him in his grief. He began to drink. Too much and it made him
moody. The number of empty bottles strewn around the floor said as
much and his rooms were filled with an acrid smell of cigarette
ash, a habit he very rarely engaged in for normally he could not
stomach the smell or the taste. The beautiful dream he and Caroline
had shared together was shattered: never could they share a life
together and never would she be his wife. On the cold, hard stone
that marked her grave, only plain, simple words told of her
existence:

Caroline
Patricia Grace Born 1910 Died 1929 Loved greatly. Sadly
missed.

Forever, part of his soul
would remain in England. Forever would his lost sweetheart remain
with him, the memory of her going with him wherever he might be. In
contrast, he had been unable to find a place in his broken heart
for love of the child, for love as a parent should feel for a
child. Andrea Caroline Grace she had been baptised, just as
Caroline had wished and it was a beautiful christening. They were
all there: Miss Turner and Jan, Anne and Gerald, Robert, Mr Scrover
and several others from the office. There were also new friends
that Caroline had made during her time in London but no one from
the Grace family had turned up, not even Mrs Grace who had defied
her husband when her daughter’s funeral was held. Hans had noticed
her sitting in the back of the church, suffering a mother’s grief
alone and in isolation. He had intended to speak with her but by
the time the service was over, Mrs Grace was nowhere to be
seen.

Anne insisted that Jan be
allowed to carry the baby in to church as both she and Anne had
agreed to be godmothers. Hans wanted to know whose idea that was
but neither Anne nor Jan were willing to say.

When the christening was
over, Hans could not bear to cuddle the baby. He turned away from
the small innocent life that he had help create. He could not bear
to look at the the baby that had lived while Caroline had
died.

The child’s grandparents
had nothing to do with their little grandaughter. Hans had come to
realise that Mrs Grace would not defy her husband’s orders, even
though he was certain she could come to love the child in time. But
Hans and Caroline had not married and outside knoweldge of such a
child would have resulted in seditious gossip and brought disgrace
to their family. Besides, Hans had no jurisdiction over what should
happen to the baby and it looked very much as if the state would
now seize her and put her up for adoption or place her in one of
the miserable state-run orphanages.

Hans brooded and could
not bear to face the reality of the situation. Anne had applied to
look after the child while the authorities decided what should
happen. She had been informed that the baby’s fate would need to be
decided before she was three months old. Hans realised his position
regarding little Andrea was hopeless; he may be her biological
parent but he had no jurisdiction in the eyes of the
law.