Hugo Hamilton - Disguise

And with this declaration began an obsession. She seemed to have entered into a private crusade, conscripting herself into a lifelong duty to establish the true facts so that she could rescue him from oblivion. It was like some oath of allegiance to the family, to the truth, to the past, and she sounded more excited again, full of energy, as though she couldn’t wait to begin her quest. Already she was dreaming of digging up some vital piece of evidence to prove his true identity which might allow him to return to her. With his imminent disappearance, she seemed to cling to this crazy undertaking, to bring him back to the real world, to establish his story at least, if not his physical presence.

‘Mara,’ he said, ‘leave it.’

‘No, I’m serious, Gregor,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to let me do this. If you’re Jewish and she’s denying it, then that’s something that needs to be cleared up.’

The other guests in the restaurant looked up. The word ‘Jewish’ echoed across the tables around the restaurant like some illicit term. There was nothing Gregor could do to stop her resolve to pursue her investigations in Nuremberg. Besides, it was only right for Daniel to get to know the people Gregor had grown up with. It was impossible to get Gregor to go and see his father, so she and Daniel would have to do all that on his behalf.

In the car outside, just before she started the engine, she could not help herself asking one final question that was close to her heart but which had not been formulated before. She waited as though she could not drive until she got the answer.

‘There’s one thing I need to ask you,’ she said, looking him in the eyes. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Gregor. I just need to know for myself. Is this about dealing with the past? Some kind of atonement?’

Was this something she admired or was it an accusation? He didn’t answer. An entire history had been placed into his mouth. Everything that had gone on in their country, everything that was being spoken about in the media was hanging in the silence between them. She had dared to suggest that by declaring himself to be Jewish, he was turning himself into some kind of human monument to make up for the past. Perhaps she intended it to sound more supportive, but he was trapped by the taunt inside the words.

She switched on the engine, but he told her to stop.

‘I want to walk,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry, Gregor,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

He got out and walked away. She watched him turn the corner and drove after him for a while, like a police tail. But he marched on and she then decided to drive home.

He drifted through the city for hours, in a wide arc. But he was merely stalling the moment of return when he would have to answer her question. The walking brought exhaustion in his mind and, with it, a clarity, a submission. He only allowed the streets to lead him home again when he was sure that Mara was already asleep. She would have gone in to the woman next door and brought Daniel back. She would have woken the boy up and put on his slippers and made him walk on his sleepy legs, shuffling through the corridor. She probably made him go to the toilet while he yawned and rubbed his eyes and shivered with the warmth of his pee escaping from him. She would have put him into the cold bed and tucked him in with a kiss on the forehead. She might have made herself some camomile tea with honey and waited up for him a while, but then gone to sleep in the end.

When Gregor finally turned the corner onto the street where they lived, he glanced up at the windows. There were no lights on. He had the keys in his hand, ready to steal in like an intruder. But then, at the last minute, before stepping up to the main door with silver graffiti over the carved oak features, he turned to the parked beige Renault and found her sitting inside.

She had been waiting for him all this time, frozen, staring ahead with that ghostly sadness, beyond crying. There was no escape from those eyes. The questions in them. He walked up to the car and opened the door.

‘Mara, what are you doing here, sitting alone?’

He brought her inside and linked arms with her on the stairs going up. They went straight into the bedroom. She dropped her clothes on the black-and-white chair as usual and got into bed, exhausted, without words. They made love. A farewell love. On the eve of departure. With fatigue in their limbs and with hot tears rolling across his chest. The genius of it. Staying in the car all night and waiting for him to come back. Sitting there with the keys in her hand, staring ahead, knowing that some time, sooner or later, even if the dawn was coming and the noise of refuse trucks was advancing through the streets, he would eventually have to walk past and find her there. The courage it took her to see it through, to be noticed by neighbours coming out to walk their dogs. Waiting only for his tall, familiar shape to appear, with his ghostly face coming up under the street light to ask her, ‘Why don’t you come inside?’ Keeping herself awake inside the cramped car, hoping that he would not go in without seeing her, as if it didn’t matter.

The good apples have already been stored away. Thorsten has stacked them up on a wooden trolley and taken them over to one of the barns. He has opened the big sliding doors and wheeled the trolley in, carrying the sacks into the basement with Johannes following him all the way, watching everything.

The others are wandering around the farm in the early afternoon. Katia has disappeared for a rest, while Mara has taken Gregor and Martin by the arm, one on either side, on a guided tour. In the yard, Juli is trying to get the pump going. It squeaks like an old donkey and she keeps laughing with the effort, pumping the big lever up and down but not drawing any water. Daniel watches her with a condescending smile, enjoying the way she struggles with such a redundant piece of cast-iron equipment. ‘Does this not work any more?’ she asks, smiling, with the stud under her bottom lip reflecting the sun. Daniel nods, but refuses to show her because he likes to watch the furious determination on her face. The laughter has taken the power out of her arms and her lips are pursed in mock distress, but she tries once more, throwing back her hair to put in one more genuine effort and prove that she can figure this out by herself.

‘You must put the water in first,’ Thorsten calls out from the door of the barn. Juli is not really all that pushed about getting water and he fails to notice that there is a game going on here between them.

Thorsten connects the yellow hose to the tap and explains to her that the tubular upright sink has to be filled with water first, otherwise the lever will only pull up air. When that’s been done, he asks her to start pumping again and the cool underground water comes gushing jubilantly across the stones. She takes a drink from her cupped hand. Then she fills an enamel basin with water to throw over Daniel. And even though he wouldn’t mind cooling down, he flees like a chicken across the farmyard, still laughing. Most of the water from the basin spills on Juli herself and on her white dress, so that her thighs now look as though they are wrapped in cling film. But she has also managed to hit Daniel with some drops of water across his bare shoulders. She heaves the basin back down and walks away in triumph, bowing to an invisible audience with her hands silently clapping above her head.

Is this a high point? An afternoon in the sunshine with Daniel and Juli laughing helplessly and the clang of the empty enamel basin echoing around the farmyard? Are the contortions of history not mere pilgrim stations on the way to this peak of freedom?

They are taking it easy now. Juli and Daniel leave the pump behind to go down to the lake with Johannes. In winter, they threw a rock out onto the lake and it remained suspended on top of the frozen water for weeks before it sank. Now, Daniel says he’s going to dive down to see if he can bring it up again.