***
Later, as they were drinking their tea in the little sitting room, Teddy was about to bring up the subject of the Westheims when her friendly and hospitable hostess began to enlighten her about everyday living in Berlin. Teddy had no alternative but to bide her time.
‘After Germany capitulated to the Allies, the Russians soon got certain services working again,’ Anne explained. ‘Such as gas and electricity. Plus the underground, trams and trains, so we’re able to get around the city. There are also a few ramshackle old taxis, but not many, because of the petrol shortage. But stay in the British Zone,’ she cautioned, ‘don’t wander into the Russian Zone by mistake, it’s dangerous, there’s still a lot of rape going on.’
‘I understand.’
‘The telephone service isn’t what it should be yet,’ Anne added with a wry smile. ‘Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. If you want to call your aunt later, to let her know you’ve arrived safely, you could give it a try. I can’t guarantee that you’d get through, though.’
‘That’s very kind of you, and I will attempt to call Aunt Ketti tonight, if you don’t mind,’ Teddy said, ‘but I insist on paying for any calls I make.’
‘Don’t be so silly,’ Anne murmured dismissively.
Teddy now said, ‘You haven’t mentioned the Westheims, so I assume the International Red Cross hasn’t turned up anything regarding their whereabouts yet. Or come across any other information about them.’
Anne shook her head. ‘No, I’m afraid not, I would have told you the moment you walked in, if I’d had any news.’
Teddy bit her lip tensely, looking troubled.
‘Try not to be downhearted,’ Anne said with sudden gentleness, softening her rather efficient manner, wishing to be supportive. ‘Even though there is no information so far, in actuality this doesn’t mean very much. Things are terribly chaotic, as I’ve already explained. Millions of displaced people are on the move in Europe, about ten million to be precise. Records have been destroyed, either in the bombing raids, or by the Nazis when they realised defeat was upon them. Then again, many of the agencies which might be able to help you locate them are understaffed. It truly is a herculean task, trying to trace missing people, so it may take a while. But you will find them, I feel sure of that.’
Teddy nodded, praying that Mrs Reynolds was correct in her assumption that she would succeed in what she had come here to do.
Anne gave her another reassuring glance, then swung around in her chair, and motioned to the desk near the window. ‘I’ve written down the names and addresses of the agencies you must visit tomorrow, as well as my office number. Elizabeth Jefford, my secretary, is efficient, knows her way around the British and American Zones very well, so don’t hesitate to call her if you need any kind of help. And there’s a set of keys to the flat on the desk alongside the pad.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Reynolds, thank you for everything.’
‘Thanks are not necessary,’ Anne said, ‘I’m happy to be of some help. As a matter of fact, I wanted to tell—’
‘There’s one other thing,’ Teddy said, swiftly cutting in. She leaned forward with a show of urgency and rushed on, ‘If I don’t have any success with the agencies here in Berlin, I would like to go to the Schloss Tiegal in the Mark Brandenburg. I realise it’s in the Russian Zone, but perhaps I—’
Now it was Anne’s turn to interrupt. ‘You don’t have to go there, Theodora,’ she said. ‘I was about to tell you that Julia wrote to me some weeks ago, explained that the Westheims were staying at the Schloss when you last had news of them. And so I asked my American friend Major Evans to have the Schloss checked out. Fortunately he was able to do so, managed to cut through the usual Russian red tape. He discovered that the Schloss hadn’t been damaged in the war, even though Potsdam and Brandenburg had been badly bombed.’
‘That’s wonderful news!’ Teddy cried, her eyes instantly brightening.
‘Yes, it is. Since the Schloss wasn’t bombed, we know the Westheims couldn’t possibly have been killed in a raid there. However, the Schloss is uninhabited, deserted except for a caretaker who was put in by the Russians. They have requisitioned it, and I understand from Major Evans that they are going to turn it into a barracks.’
‘And this caretaker had no information to offer?’ Teddy asked quickly, fixing her intent green gaze on Anne.
‘None. Apparently all he said was that everyone had gone away.’
‘It seems as if the Westheims have disappeared without a trace, doesn’t it?’ Teddy muttered in a glum voice, her excitement of a moment ago completely evaporating.
‘Yes, that’s true,’ Anne agreed. ‘On the other hand, there is no reason to believe they’re dead.’
Anne now rose and went out into the small foyer, where she took her overcoat from the cupboard. Slipping into it, she said, ‘I’m afraid I really must leave for Frankfurt. Keep your spirits up, and try not to fret, Theodora. And don’t forget, my secretary is there if you need anything, she’ll do her best to help you. I’ll see you at the end of the week.’
‘Goodbye, Mrs Reynolds, have a safe trip,’ Teddy said.
***
The following morning Teddy left the flat in Charlottenburg early, and took the underground to the Bahnhof Zoo, which was the station closest to the Tiergartenstrasse.
It did not take her long to arrive at her destination, and after alighting from the train she walked up the Budapesterstrasse and into the Stülerstrasse, heading in the direction of the Tiergarten, the lovely old park which she had so often frequented with Maxim and Ursula.
Teddy hurried along at a brisk pace on this misty and drizzly October day, glancing from side to side, filling with dismay when she saw the devastation all around her. She wondered whether there was any point going to see if there was anything left of the Westheim mansion. No buildings were standing on these two streets, so why should the Tiergartenstrasse be any different, she asked herself. Berlin was a ruined city. She had seen that with her own eyes yesterday, and Mrs Reynolds’s descriptions had only confirmed that everything had been blown to smithereens.
Drawing closer to the Tiergarten, she came to a sudden abrupt stop, and she could not help gasping in astonishment. She was astounded by what she saw. Not a single tree was left standing, and the denuded park looked barren and desolate under the curdled grey sky.
After a moment, Teddy became aware of a curious chip-chip-chipping noise that sounded like metal hitting stone, and she swung her head, wondering what it was.
A few yards away a woman was working amongst the piles of rubble littering a stretch of waste ground where once there had been a house. The woman was hacking at a brick with a broken chisel, removing ancient plaster from around its edges. And then she placed the brick into an improvised wheelbarrow made from a pair of small wheels and an old wooden box strung together with string and bits of wire.
Teddy walked over to the woman and addressed her politely. ‘Bitte… what happened to the trees in the park? Please, can you tell me why the park is so ruined?’
The woman glanced at Teddy, looked her up and down through wary eyes, not responding at first. Then she said in a clipped, harsh tone, ‘You must be a stranger to Berlin to ask a question like that.’
‘Yes, I am. The trees in the Tiergarten,’ Teddy repeated. ‘What happened to them?’
‘They were cut down,’ the woman said flatly. ‘For firewood. The Berliners needed to keep warm during the war. There was no other fuel.’
‘Yes, I see, I understand,’ Teddy said. ‘Danke… thank you very much.’ She inclined her head and walked away rapidly, conscious of the woman’s hostility.
Within the space of a few seconds Teddy was at the centre of the Tiergartenstrasse where the Westheim’s beautiful mansion had been. Her steps slowed and she stood gazing across the dirt and the mud and the puddles to the pile of rubble it had become.
Memories rushed at her, bright and sharp and in focus, and for a fleeting moment
she was carried back in time to the old days, and she thought of the happy hours she had spent in that house with Maxim and his parents.
And she saw them then in her mind’s eye.
Ursula, so lovely in her blonde freshness, refined and elegant, moving about the house and the garden with such grace; Sigmund, so handsome, kind and gentlemanly, sitting at the piano in the music room, playing his beautiful music. And Maxim running to them, calling their names, his young face shining with adoration for them. The memories were bittersweet, for she was caught between the past as it had once been, and the present as it was in all its pain and ugliness. She felt a strangling sensation in her throat, and tears pricked behind her lids, but she blinked them away at once, and breathed deeply.
It was ridiculous to think about that house. It had only been bricks and mortar, and therefore of small consequence. What truly mattered was the couple who had owned it and who had made it into such a wonderfully loving and happy home for their child. And also for her.
Teddy turned away, sadness swamping her, slowly retraced her steps down the Tiergartenstrasse and swung off it at the intersection between the Hofjageralle and the Stülerstrasse, making for the Lützowufer. The latter was where the von Tiegals had lived, in an apartment overlooking the Landwehrkanal. Willy Herzog’s home had been close by as well.
But before she even reached the Lützowufer she saw that this area was another blighted wasteland, and so she pivoted sharply, and walked back to the Bahnhof Zoo station. There was nothing for her here.
I cannot linger in the past, she thought, or dwell on the memories. The present is the only thing that counts now. My objective in Berlin is to find the Westheims, and that is what I must do.
Teddy held this thought for the rest of the day as she visited the various agencies on Anne Reynolds’s list. These included several Jewish refugee groups and Zionist organisations dealing with missing persons, and the Society of Friends, run by the American Quakers, who were doing relief and reconstruction work in the war-torn city. Everyone she met was as helpful as they could possibly be. Each agency gave her long lists of names of those who had been sent to camps or deported by the Nazis, or who had been reported as dead. The Westheims were not on any of them.
‘Don’t give up hope,’ the American woman at the office of the Society of Friends said. ‘And check all the agencies daily, since new names are constantly being added.’
Teddy thanked the helpful Quaker and returned to the flat in Charlottenburg. She made a light supper and then went to bed, determined to start her search again tomorrow.
THIRTY-THREE
It drew her back like a magnet, that area of the Tiergarten and its environs where so much of her life had been spent in the past.
After her first visit, on that drizzly Monday morning, she had returned several times, enticed by a place she found irresistible, because it was both familiar and loaded with poignant memories. But on each occasion she had found nothing worthwhile, and certainly nothing which would help her in her search for the Westheims. And she had always come away from there brimming with frustration and heightened anxiety, vowing never to return.
But one Saturday afternoon, two weeks after she had arrived in Berlin, Teddy took herself off to the Tiergartenstrasse yet again. The difference was that today she had a purpose, a real reason for being there. Elizabeth Jefford, Mrs Reynolds’s secretary, had suggested to Teddy that she talk to the Trummerfrauen, the rubble women, who worked the city in groups, cleaning up the debris, and collecting the bricks which could be used again, once the rebuilding of Berlin commenced.
Elizabeth had explained to her on the telephone last night that the Trümmerfrauen had developed their own intricate networks, had their own grapevines, and thus were extraordinary sources of information about everything—from the black market to missing people. The women apparently worked in and around the streets where they had previously had homes, and where most of them still lived in makeshift quarters. Elizabeth had pointed out to Teddy that perhaps one of them might have seen something or met someone or heard gossip which could be useful to her, and aid her as she continued to look for Ursula and Sigmund.
And so she had come here again. Just one more time, she had said to herself a short while ago, as she had taken the underground train which had brought her to the Bahnhof Zoo station. Now she walked along the Tiergartenstrasse at a slow pace, all the time glancing around alertly.
It did not take her very long to realise that there were no women working the rubble today. Her disappointment was so acute she suddenly understood how high her anticipation had been since her conversation with Elizabeth last night.
Just as Teddy was giving up hope of finding any of the Trümmerfrauen, she spotted three of them standing near a pit on a piece of land that had been partially cleared of rubble. They were talking amongst themselves and sharing a cigarette.
Teddy came to a stop a short distance away, stood watching them with interest for a few seconds. Each woman took several deep drags of the cigarette, then handed it to the next one, and Teddy saw at once how much they were enjoying this little luxury, making the most of it.
Elizabeth had warned her not to go empty-handed. And so in her bag were a packet of Lucky Strikes and three chocolate bars from the special store cupboard in the flat, gifts Mrs Reynolds had undoubtedly received from her boyfriend, the American major. Mrs Reynolds was in Bonn with him this weekend, and Elizabeth had told her to take the items with her today, assuring her that Mrs Reynolds would not mind. Teddy was now very glad she had listened to her, that she had this extremely precious supply on hand. A bribe of cigarettes or chocolate would surely help to loosen tongues which otherwise might remain still.
The women stopped talking when Teddy approached, and turned to look at her. Their faces were closed and inscrutable, their eyes cold, and she remembered the blatant hostility of the only other rubble woman she had spoken to about the lack of trees in the Tiergarten. She hoped these three would be a little more friendly.
‘Please… can you help me?’ Teddy said.
The women simply stared at her, made no response.
She began again. ‘Bitte… I’m looking for some friends, or information about them… a couple I used to know before the war. They lived along there—’ Teddy paused, swung her head, pointed down the Tiergartenstrasse. ‘In one of the big houses, one of the grand houses. Herr Sigmund Westheim, Frau Ursula Westheim. They had a small son, a boy called Maximilian.’
Three pairs of eyes bored into her. Not one pair blinked, nor did a single eyelash flicker.
Teddy focused on the woman nearest to her. ‘Perhaps you knew the Westheims?’
‘Nein.’
‘Did you know them?’ Teddy said to the woman who was poised in the centre of the trio, and who was at this moment drawing on the cigarette. The woman exhaled, shook her head. ‘Nein.’
Teddy decided there was not much point in asking the third woman. These Trümmerfrauen were obviously not going to be of any help to her. At least, not without a little encouragement. She opened her bag, took out the packet of Lucky Strikes.
‘Die Zigarette?’ Teddy asked, offering the packet around. Each of them took one, said, ‘Danke’—but only thanks, nothing more—and carefully stowed the cigarette in their pockets.
‘I must find these people,’ Teddy began again, more emphatically, hoping for success this time. ‘If you know anything at all, or have heard anything about them, please tell me. Please.’ She let her intense gaze rest on each woman individually, and her eyes were full of entreaty.
There was a long moment of silence, and at last one of the women spoke. She said, ‘That mansion was bombed like all of them on this street, you can see that for yourself. No one survived.’
‘Some people who lived on the Tiergartenstrasse did survive,’ one of the women swiftly contradicted, and then she volunteered, ‘There’s a rubble woman who works on the Lützowufer. She knew lots of people in this area before the war. Go and ta
lk to her.’
‘I will!’ Teddy exclaimed, her face lighting up. ‘Who is she? What’s her name? How will I recognise her?’
‘I don’t know who she is, or her name. I’ve only heard about her,’ the friendliest of these three now said. ‘Ask around, one of the other Trummerfrauen will point her out.’
‘Thank you! Thank you so much!’ Teddy cried. ‘You’ve been most helpful.’
Buoyed up by renewed hope, Teddy set off at a rapid pace, and by the time she reached the bridge that led over the Landwehrkanal into the Lützowufer she was almost running. Finally, she came to a halt, and stood catching her breath, looking up and down the street. To her dismay, and further disappointment, it was even more deserted than the Tiergartenstrasse. And it was eerily silent.
Because there was little or no traffic in the Berlin streets these days, human voices were most audible, as were footsteps. But these sounds were strangely and most noticeably absent this afternoon. So was the constant chip-chip-chipping noise made by the countless Trümmerfrauen cleaning up the bricks and stones they were salvaging.
Teddy exhaled heavily, wondering where the rubble women were; Elizabeth had assured her that they worked seven days a week. Since she was here she decided she might as well investigate the area further, and she set off again, shivering slightly and huddling into her topcoat. A chill wind was blowing across from the Landwehrkanal, and within seconds she understood why the street was deserted. The wind was whipping the dust from the rubble up into the air. It swirled around her, settling in her hair, on her cheeks and her lips, and she blinked rapidly as it got into her eyes.
There’s no point walking through this, she thought, it’s like a sandstorm. I might as well return to the flat in Charlottenburg. And so she swung round and hurried down the Lützowufer the way she had just come, heading for the bridge. She suddenly wished she had not bothered to make this little excursion after all. It had only been a wild goose chase like the others.