Ben Elton - Two Brothers

Otto was almost contrite.

‘Oh. Well, put like that,’ he said, ‘I see what you’re saying. You’re right. Absolutely right, of course. You always are.’

‘When I’m gone, Ottsy,’ Paulus said solemnly, ‘you have to pretend you’re me. OK? Every move you make, every decision you take, you have to ask yourself, “What would Pauly have done?” Be calm. Be calculating. Be careful . Stay alive and keep Dagmar alive.’

‘Right, absolutely. I get it… And once I’m in uniform,’ he said, brightening, ‘I can try and get her across the border and—’

‘Otto, you’re doing it again!’ Paulus said, his face red with frustration. ‘You have to think things through .’

‘Well what’s wrong with—’

‘Quite apart from the fact that a lot more people have been shot trying to rush the border than have made it, there’s no point. Dags doesn’t have an entry visa any more. She had one five years ago for the States but not now. The Yanks are pulling up the drawbridge. Everywhere is. Even if you got her across she’d be sent back.’

‘Oh,’ was all Otto could say in reply.

‘You have to protect her in Germany. And when the time comes, hide her in Germany, Otto. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Otto said solemnly. ‘I understand.’

Dagmar was looking at them both. A faraway expression in her eyes.

‘You should go, Otts,’ she said finally. ‘It’s nearly dawn. You have to get back to Spandau. They might accept you staying out all night but not all of the following day.’

‘Yeah,’ Otto said, ‘that’s right, I’ll have to hitch a lift… I’d better go.’

Dagmar put down her mug and hugged him.

‘Thank you, Ottsy,’ she said quietly. ‘You saved my life tonight.’

‘That’s what I’m here for.’

‘It’s what we’re both here for,’ Paulus added. ‘We’ll get you through, Dag. I promise. It looks like you’ll be staying here for a while, too, until we can make a plan. You can have my room and I’ll go on the couch.’

After Otto had gone, Dagmar and Paulus sat together in the darkened room for quite a long time without speaking.

Eventually Dagmar broke the silence.

‘Pauly,’ she said. ‘Hold me.’

A FEW DAYS after the dreadful events of Kristallnacht , the Night of the Broken Glass, as the great November Pogrom had immediately come to be known, the Government announced that all Jewish children were to be expelled immediately from school. Paulus, who had been about to complete his final year, was dismissed that same day along with thousands of other bewildered pupils weeks before graduating. All denied the chance to take any examinations or gain any kind of certificate.

‘Don’t worry about the certificate,’ Frieda assured him. ‘They’ll know about the new law in England and you have enough fine school reports stored up for any college.’

Dagmar came in from Otto and Paulus’s old bedroom, which she had been occupying since Kristallnacht .

‘Pauly,’ she said quietly, ‘since you’ll have a bit more time now and won’t need to be studying every minute, I should very much like you to take me swimming.’

Paulus and Frieda exchanged a worried glance.

During the previous week they had shared numerous whispered concerns about Dagmar’s fragile mental health. She had scarcely spoken since she’d arrived and had not once mentioned her mother’s death. The newspapers had reported that the fire had been electrical and that the widow of Herr Fischer had ‘regretfully’ been consumed in the flames. No mention was made of Dagmar, who had read the article without comment. She stayed mainly in bed or curled up on the couch clinging to the toy monkey Otto had saved for her, a deep fatalistic sadness enveloping her that Frieda and Paulus could find no way of penetrating.

Frieda was familiar with the signs of emotional withdrawal. She knew very well how many deeply damaged people were sitting mutely like Dagmar in cold bare rooms all over Berlin, dealing with their terrible reality by retreating from it.

‘Dagmar, darling,’ Frieda said gently, ‘you and Pauly can’t go swimming, I’m afraid. I’m sure you recall that the authorities have forbidden it.’

‘Ottsy can take us,’ Dagmar replied. ‘It’s never a problem.’

‘Ottsy can take you , dear,’ Frieda said. ‘With Pauly it’s more than double the risk. They’re still targeting young men.’

‘But we could go to Wannsee,’ Dagmar insisted, her voice becoming firmer as she spoke. ‘To the lido. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves. They don’t have staff there off-season.’

‘Wouldn’t it be a bit chilly, Dags?’ Paulus asked with a smile.

‘Exactly. Freezing. So nobody will be there. For once we’ll be in the majority! We don’t need an exit visa or an entrance visa. We just get on the S-Bahn like we used to do. Pauly, I want to swim. I need to swim. But I want you to come too, Pauly. I want both my boys, like it used to be.’

Frieda smiled. Dagmar had said more in five minutes than in the past five days.

‘Do you know, I think Dagmar’s right,’ Frieda said. ‘You both really do need to get out of this apartment. To get some exercise. And if Otto’s with you I really don’t think there’s much risk.’

‘OK!’ Paulus said, grinning himself now, thrilled to see any sign of enthusiasm in Dagmar. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘I’ll write a note then,’ Dagmar said, her eyes widening and her voice growing in confidence with each word. ‘I’m sure Ottsy can get a pass out. They’re all just waiting for graduation now. And he’s such a school pet these days, and of course they still think I’m his Aryan girl. It’ll be the three of us together again. A sort of farewell picnic. Farewell to you. Farewell to Mama. Farewell to everything really.’

For a moment Paulus’s happy grin disappeared from his face. He looked closely at Dagmar, trying to gauge whether her plan was born of reviving spirits or was a symptom of a deepening despair.

‘How about we take Silke?’ he said. ‘Make it a proper Saturday Club outing.’

‘Ha, and share my boys with her?’ Dagmar replied, and for a moment her eyes seemed to twinkle and her old smile appeared on her face. ‘You know very well I’m far too mean to do anything so generous as that !’

Pauly smiled back. She sounded like her old self.

They met at Bahnhof Zoo.

The shattered glass that had littered the streets for days had been cleaned up but the burnt-out buildings and windowless shops remained as testimony to the violence of the attacks. The Jews themselves had been forced to clean up the wreckage that had been made of their lives and it had been a slow task, made harder because, as the newspapers were happy to crow, thirty thousand young Jewish men had been abducted from their homes and sent to concentration camps over the two nights of the pogrom.

What was not reported in the papers, but Frieda had ascertained through her medical contacts, was that ninety-one more had simply been beaten to death.

Now, however, everything seemed calm. The Jews were back behind closed doors and the majority of the population were going about their business as if nothing had happened.

Otto bought some nuts and apples for the journey and the three young people took the S-Bahn out to Wannsee. As they rode, the boys attempted to dispel the sadness that still radiated from their friend.

‘Do you remember the swimming gala,’ Otto said, ‘when we took the blame for you breaking the trophy?’