Nicholas Searle - The Good Liar

‘I’d like to meet him.’

‘All in good time, I’m sure,’ says Roy. ‘We might even go over to

Sydney to see him now we’re fixed for money.’

‘I’d like that very much. I suppose you’ve seen much more of the

world than me.’

‘I’ve lived a bit. I’ve had my excitements. Alarms and excursions.

Capers and scrapes. I’ve had a rich and full life.’ His head floats gently from the drink and he understands vaguely he must be

cautious.

‘I’m sure,’ she says. ‘But you said you’d led a pretty humdrum

life.’

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‘Oh, one doesn’t like to be too boastful. I’ve witnessed things you could barely imagine.’ He smiles and thinks: how true. She hasn’t a clue. ‘But anyway, I’d better pack my bag. Are you sure Stephen’s

happy to take me to the station tomorrow?’

‘Quite sure.’ She smiles back at him.

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1

Though she did not fully understand it at the time, Lili Schröder’s life ended and a quite different one began with the assault in the

Tiergarten villa.

In Hans she had seen spite in all its purity for the first time. Before, she had sensed something of hatred in the way young men shouted

with creased, enraged faces on the streets and jostled frightened old men with beards. But her parents had ushered her into fashionable

coffee houses or luxurious cars or the KaDeWe department store as

she craned her neck. Until that winter twilight with Hans, these

were aspects of behaviour and character of which she was only dis-

tantly aware. She knew the world contained unpleasantness and

that she was insulated from it, but that was all. She did not imagine her privileges and protections could fall away.

She lay in pain as jagged pulses rippled through her body, accom-

panied by a dull but enveloping ache. She did not know whether the

pain was as severe as she imagined, or whether shame and horror

magnified it. She wondered if it would pass, conceiving it as at least possible that she might die in the next hours or days. Of course she would tell no one, not even her mother, not because Hans had

instructed her but because she felt such guilt. She had brought filth and disgrace on herself and somehow it would be infectious if she

told others.

Eventually the pain subsided a little. The sense of dirt did not,

however. She rushed to the bathroom, so that she would be ready in

time for the simple meal before the evening’s festivities. She washed herself as best she could at the basin, splashing water carelessly over 217

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the thick yellow carpet and her white dress, then washed again, and again. She rubbed soap on her underpants, trying to rid them of the specks of blood, disposing of them eventually in the washing bas-ket. In her bedroom, she checked that she was not still bleeding

before putting on fresh underwear, placing one of her handkerchiefs carefully inside in case she later did. None of this made her feel

cleaner, or safer.

The meal was a subdued affair, not as it should have been before

such a glittering evening and not as it usually was. Only her mother seemed as bright as ever. Her elder sisters appeared distracted and whispered to one another in a manner that suggested concern. She

knew Daddy was not fond of these grand balls but went along with

them for the sake of ‘the girls’, as he called them all, and for social convention. From where she usually watched at the top of the stairs, he did a good job of hosting despite his natural diffidence and seriousness. This evening, though, he looked absently at the snow

falling outside.

‘Are you worrying, my darling, that people will not turn up in this weather?’ asked Magda. The girls usually loved it when their mother called their father darling.

‘Pardon?’ he said. ‘What did you say? Sorry. Yes. I wonder how

many will cry off.’

‘I doubt any will. Snow isn’t going to put too many Berliners off.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ He rallied and smiled. ‘Still, no harm in hoping, eh?’

‘Albert, you love these occasions as much as I do. You know that.’

‘I very much doubt that, my dear.’

‘You’ll get into the swing of it once people arrive.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said doubtfully, and turned to the win-

dow again.

‘Lili, you may watch the girls dress and then you must go to your

room. You may read until eight o’clock and then you will turn your

lights out.’

‘Yes, Mama,’ said Lili.

‘It’s a very strange atmosphere this evening,’ said Magda, with a

gayness that seemed forced. ‘Normally you three would be

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chattering away and I would be interrupting to remind you of your

duties. And Lili, you’d be asking question after question. No one

seems to be excited.’

‘Oh, but we are, Mama,’ said Hannelore with apparent enthusi-

asm. ‘Of course we are. It will be wonderful. I’m so looking forward to it.’

Lili followed her elder sisters to Charlotte’s bedroom, which was

designated as the dressing and make- up room for the party. Each of them bathed in the tub next door before returning to begin the task of dressing. First, there was a layer of underwear to be put on, then hair to be shaped and set with lacquer. Gowns were hoisted and

lowered with exquisite care so as not to disturb the elaborate coif-fures. Bracelets, necklaces and earrings were fastened and checked in the mirror. Finally, sitting in front of the dressing table, they each experimented with make- up from the extensive compendium of

items that Hannelore owned. There was less giggling and excitement

than normal. At one point Lili heard Anneliese say with some ear-

nestness, ‘Hansi . . .’, but she was stopped mid- sentence by a glance towards Lili. Then their mother came to hurry them along and they

were gone. She sat on the bed among the untidy, still- warm mess of clothes, lonely, distraught that she could not confide in her sisters.

The music struck up downstairs and guests began to arrive. Lili

waited several minutes before taking up her usual position on the

landing, overlooking the entrance hall. A cold breeze came up the

stairs each time the large front door was opened by one of the staff.

Smart young men in military uniforms, the friends of her parents,

her sisters’ giggling girlfriends and the obligatory social guests were announced by Bauer, at his self- important loudest, and shook hands with her parents and sisters.

Lili found she was no longer interested in the spectacle and went

quietly to her room. As she undressed she found the locket contain-

ing Hans’s golden hair. She pulled it from her neck, went to her bed and thrust it in the gap between the wooden floor and the skirting

board in which she had stored secret notes, mainly the childish love letters to Hans that she had never sent. She never wanted to see the locket again.

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2

It passed, as the shadow of a cloud passes. Guests may have com-

mented the next day that the Schröders had seemed rather less

delightful than in previous years, that Albert may have appeared

preoccupied and fractious and the girls a little aloof. Later, a context would be found.