Julia Franck - The Blind Side of the Heart

There’s no point in it, Fräulein, you can see that for yourself!

What do you mean, no point? Helene asked, without looking round at the male nurse. She bent down and put her hand on her mother’s head. The grey hair was dry and tangled. Her mother didn’t defend herself, she just laughed. My mother isn’t mad, not in the way you mean. She doesn’t belong in here. I want to take her away with me.

I’m sorry, we have our orders here and we stick to them. You can’t simply take this woman away with you — even if it were your own daughter, you couldn’t in a case like hers.

Come along, Mother. Helene took her mother under the arms and tried to pull her to her feet.

With a rapid stride, the nurse moved towards them and separated mother and daughter. Didn’t you hear me? Those are my orders.

I want to speak to the professor. What was his name — Nitsche?

The professor is in an important meeting.

Really? Then I’ll wait until the meeting is over.

I’m sorry, Fräulein, but he still won’t speak to you. You must ask him for an appointment in writing.

In writing? Helene searched her bag, found the black notebook that Wilhelm had given her a few days earlier and tore out a page. The smell of her mother came off her hands, her laughter, her fear, her unkempt hair and the sweat in her armpits. She wrote, in pencil: Dear Professor Nitsche.

Fräulein, please. Do you want us to keep you here too? I think the professor would take a certain interest in such a case — after all, he’s doing research into the heredity factor in illnesses like this. What was your name again?

A little respect, if you please, young man. Wilhelm’s moment had come; he intervened. You will let that young lady leave at once. She is my fiancée.

The nurse opened the door. Wilhelm offered Helene his arm. Coming, darling?

Helene knew there was no alternative. She took Wilhelm’s arm and went out. At the end of the corridor she heard a shrill screech behind her. It wasn’t clear whether it came from an animal or a human throat. Nor could she decide, if it was human, whose scream it was. It could have been her mother screaming. Another male nurse opened the door for them. Wilhelm and Helene went along the next corridor in silence. This place was uncannily quiet; there was something very final about it.

In the train to Berlin, Wilhelm and Helene still sat in silence. The train went through a tunnel. Helene felt that Wilhelm was waiting for her to thank him.

Please, she said, don’t call me darling any more.

But you are my darling. Wilhelm’s eyes were on Helene’s face. I have to go to Stettin again tomorrow, for a week. I don’t want to leave you alone in Berlin any longer than that.

I won’t be alone, why would I be alone? My patients are waiting for me, they need me.

Do you think there’d be no patients waiting for you in Stettin? You’ll find patients to nurse all over the world. But there’s only one of me. Alice, my sweet little girl, your abstinence is noble, but to tell you the truth it’s driving me crazy. We must bring it to an end. I need you.

Helene took his hand. You don’t have to persuade me of that, she said and kissed his hand. It was good to hear that she was needed. How was she to talk about it?

What documents do I need to marry you? She was whispering. I don’t have any, not a single one.

That can be dealt with, stated Wilhelm nonchalantly. Didn’t you once tell me you knew how to operate a printing press?

Helene shook her head. The paper, the right print, stamps and seals. Documents like that are very difficult to print.

Leave it all to me. Promise?

Helene nodded. It was good that he wanted to look after her. Wilhelm mentioned a brother in Gelbensande who had been farming since he married, but who knew about drawing up official documents.

For some time the hospital had been urging Helene to produce her papers at long last: her identity card, her birth certificate, her parents’ birth certificates, and if possible a book of family records going back beyond her parents; they wanted to see all that. Helene had claimed that she had no identity card, and whenever she was asked she pretended to be taken by surprise and said she had forgotten her papers. They had given her more time. But she must produce her papers by the end of the month, they had said recently, or she would lose her job.

Only when Helene took a slightly wrinkled apple out of the basket, polished it on her white skirt, found a knife, cut it up and cored it so that she could hand Wilhelm an apple quarter, did she see that she had a view over to the valley of the Oder and the hills around it, to the docks and the Dammscher See, then, rather closer, over the flower beds on the Hakenterrasse and down to the River Oder itself, where one of the white steamers was just putting in, inviting people with both sunshades and umbrellas aboard for an excursion. They had all made different decisions about the likely weather on this day early in May. And only then did it strike her that she had never imagined what her wedding might be like. That was herself all over, she supposed. Helene pulled the coat lying loosely over her bare shoulders together over her breast, because it was cool here. You could smell the sea in the air, you knew you were near the coast. When she licked her lips, she thought she could taste salt. This morning the registrar had referred to the wind in his speech of congratulations, saying marriage was a safe haven from storm winds and tempests, and a wife should make a safe and comfortable home for the man who protected her. Then he had laughed and advised them to have a schnapps on this early May day. A cool wind was blowing their way. Wilhelm munched the apple, he chewed it vigorously and Helene heard his teeth crushing it, juice coming through his teeth, his saliva, his lust, he leaned forward, scrutinized Helene, stroked the strands of hair wafting in the wind back from her face and kissed her forehead. He had a right to do that now, and more besides. A gull screeched. A young woman on the road just below was edging a pram forward with her hips, shove by shove; she held her baby close to her with both arms; it was crying; a shawl was fluttering round her; she was trying to wrap it round the baby, but the shawl kept flying out in the wind, and the baby cried as if it were hungry and in pain.

Incredible, don’t you think? Wilhelm was looking down too.

I expect the baby has colic.

I meant the traffic here. Apple quarter in hand, Wilhelm pointed to a long ship. Soon there’ll be tons of Mecklenburg carrots travelling this way along our autobahn; they’ll be loaded up and go off into the world. We’re going to break the 1913 record this year, our turnover of goods will reach its highest level ever, eight and a half million tons, that’s gigantic. It was only right when we rescinded the internationalization of our waterways. Versailles can’t dictate what we do with our own river. Wilhelm stood up and pointed north-east with his outstretched arm. Look at that big building over there. They’ll be completing the second part of it in the next few weeks, the biggest granary in Europe. Wilhelm sat down again. Helene contorted her face and pressed her lips together, stifling a yawn only with difficulty. When Wilhelm was in full flight, it was difficult to interrupt his rejoicings over new technological achievements and buildings. See the mast on that ship over to the right? That’s its antenna, it can receive radio waves from transmitters and then we can send messages from that mast over there.

What for?

For better communications, Alice. And there’s the Rügen , two funnels, oh my word, a freighter of the Gribel Line won’t make it under that. Wilhelm lowered his arm and propped it on the grass to support himself. Now he was looking at Helene. She felt his eyes roaming over her and resting on her face.