The Paris Affair

14 Julia

June 2002 – Bonn

Julia dreamed that she was on the stage again, her hands chained to the piano yet still unable to play. She woke up. Sweat beaded her chest. She was in Christoph’s house. Thank God, it was just a dream.

‘Julia!’ Christoph called her name.

She grabbed her kimono and headed straight to his room, searching for the light switch. Christoph blinked in the brightness.

‘I think it was her,’ he said, ‘in my dream.’

‘Who?’ Julia pulled a chair close to the bed.

‘The woman from Maxim’s who cut her hand,’ Christoph said, struggling to sit up. Julia helped him. His hair was askew and his eyes were confused. ‘I woke up and something clicked into place. I remember being sent to collect her. It was a building, somewhere in Paris.’

Paris. Christoph had never talked about the war with Julia, and she’d been too polite to ask. Now she wondered what part he’d played.

‘There was a date on the Sauerbraten recipe: 1942. Is that when you went to the building to collect her?’ she asked.

‘It must have been,’ Christoph said. ‘The Sauerbraten you cooked reminded me of it. It was like a dream, but I know it happened.’ His voice sounded firmer, his eyes bright with the memory.

‘Where was this building?’

Christoph rubbed his forehead. ‘Let me think. It was near the Arc de Triomphe, one of the streets off there. There’s a Paris guidebook on my bookshelves. Let’s have a look in there.’

Julia found the guidebook, flicked through and found the Arc de Triomphe, streets spiralling off it like spokes from the centre of a wheel.

Christoph put on his reading glasses and peered at the page. His face paled. ‘There’ – he pointed – ‘that’s where I collected her.’

‘Avenue Foch,’ Julia said. ‘What was that?’

Christoph shivered. ‘The interrogation headquarters of the SS. I recall that the soldier who handed me the recipe book was wearing their distinctive collar patches.’

Julia rubbed her eyes, trying to keep up. ‘Wait a minute, are you saying that the recipe book belonged to the woman you had to collect?’ she said. ‘The woman who made the crème br?lée?’

‘Yes,’ Christoph said. ‘She used the recipe book to make Sauerbraten for the Kommandant, the same meal you cooked last night.’

Julia considered his words. If Christoph recalled this woman having the recipe book, then that meant … suddenly she was wide awake.

‘So that means that the woman you remember must be Sylvie?’ she said.

Christoph gripped her hand as if the pieces were coming together. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Sylvie, that was her name.’

The dedication at the front of the book suggested a loving relationship. But this information, of how they first met, was unsettling. Sylvie and Christoph had been on different sides of the war.

‘After you collected her from Avenue Foch, where did you take her?’ Julia asked.

Christoph glanced at the map again. ‘Down here,’ he said, tracing his finger along the route, ‘because, yes, look, I remember walking through these gardens, the Tuileries, until we reached …’ He stopped. ‘Here, the H?tel Le Meurice.’

He let the guidebook drop into his lap as he stared at Julia. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘The Kommandant sent me to get her from Avenue Foch.’

‘Who was the Kommandant?’

The Sauerbraten seemed to have unlocked a trail of memories. Christoph didn’t have the full picture but, little by little, with Julia’s questions and the map, the fog appeared to be clearing.

‘I worked for him in Paris at Le Meurice,’ Christoph said. ‘Of course, that was it, the Kommandant wanted his son to taste proper German food. That’s why he told me to fetch her. He wanted her to make Sauerbraten for his son.’

‘So you must have got to know Sylvie at Le Meurice,’ Julia said.

‘When he tasted Sylvie’s food the Kommandant decided to keep her as his cook. But I’m not sure what happened after that …’ The excitement in Christoph’s voice began to fade. ‘I can’t go any further, Julia. It’s all foggy again.’ His eyes clouded over, his faced pained with distress. ‘What’s happening to me, Julia? Why can’t I remember it all?’

Julia patted his hand. ‘It’ll come – you just need to rest. You’re still not back to your full strength.’

He lay down, still unsettled. ‘Why should this matter, Julia? Why, out of all the things in the war, should I remember Sylvie?’ He fussed with the bedcovers, plucking at a fold. ‘I feel guilty, but I don’t know why.’

‘Maybe we should tell Daniel about this too, see what he thinks.’

‘No.’ Christoph’s face was panic-stricken. ‘Please, I beg you, he mustn’t know any of this, not yet.’

‘But he’s your son, we can’t keep him in the dark.’ He might know what had happened to Christoph during the war.

Christoph clenched her hand. ‘You have to respect my wishes on this, Julia.’

‘All right,’ she said, ‘I will for now. But you might need to tell him if these recollections continue.’

‘Thank you,’ Christoph said, relief washing over his face. ‘I wish you weren’t going so soon. I want you to stay longer.’

Julia had always been the one who’d relied on Christoph’s support. Now, he was pressing her to stay.

‘Oh, Christoph, I can’t,’ she said. ‘I fly out to Prague the day after tomorrow.’

‘But I need to return, to remember it all,’ Christoph said, reaching for her. ‘Sylvie was important, I can sense it.’

Julia stroked his hand, feeling torn. She had obligations to Sebastian. ‘Things seem worse late at night. Let’s talk in the morning.’

‘Very well,’ he murmured, his eyes closing, ‘but I know what I need to do.’

She stayed until he was asleep. His words tugged at her heart. He needed her. He wanted her to stay, but Prague loomed on the horizon like a black cloud. She couldn’t back out now. But that was another worry. Her hands had still not fully recovered. The stiffness came and went. No matter how hard she practised she couldn’t seem to get rid of it. Julia’s chest constricted. She had no idea how to solve either Christoph’s problems or her own.

The next morning, Julia went into the garden, a cup of coffee in her hand. A breeze wafted her kimono against her legs. God, she was tired. She’d slept badly. After settling Christoph, she’d gone back to her room and written down his recollections in a notebook. It seemed important to keep track of them.

Could she stay longer? It was tempting. She’d never wanted to stop working before. But now … maybe a break would help her hands. She had to face the awful fact that she still wasn’t ready to play. The thought of going on stage in Prague terrified her. Her stomach tightened at the thought of missing another concert. It could damage her career. But so could messing up in front of an audience again.

She wandered over the lawn and down past the hedge, coming unexpectedly across Daniel, a trowel in his hand, pulling out weeds. He wore shorts and a black T-shirt, a sheen of perspiration at the base of his throat. He stood up.

‘Oh, hello. What are you doing?’ Julia said.

‘I thought I’d tidy up the garden a bit and then Papa can sit out when he’s feeling better.’

‘That’s nice of you.’

Daniel smiled. ‘I can be nice, you know …’ He plucked some honeysuckle from the heap of cuttings. ‘You loved the smell of this, remember?’

He passed her the flower. For a brief second, their fingers touched. A jolt ran through her, memories flooding back from before. Sitting in this garden with Daniel six years ago, honeysuckle filling the air, when he asked her to come out for a drink. Did he remember it all as vividly as she did?

Julia turned towards the house to hide the flush on her cheeks. ‘I’d better start packing.’ She was leaving the next day.

‘Wait.’ He touched her arm briefly.

Her eyes met his. Time spooled backwards. Daniel trying to make amends for his initial unfriendliness. She swallowed. Would she have done things differently if she’d known how it would all turn out? Guarded her heart, perhaps, instead of letting him in, even a fraction?

‘I heard Papa calling out for you in the night,’ Daniel said. ‘Was everything all right?’

Julia hesitated. She didn’t want to lie to him, but Christoph had expressly told her not to mention anything about his Paris memories or the recipe book to Daniel.

‘He was disorientated,’ she said. ‘Malnutrition can do that. The doctor explained that the effects of not eating and drinking properly might linger for a while.’

‘I’m worried, Julia. If it is dementia …’

‘I tried to broach the subject with him the other day, but he was adamant he didn’t want the tests.’

Daniel nodded. ‘I suppose he’s frightened.’ He jabbed the trowel into the ground. ‘I wish I could talk to him about it.’

Julia thought guiltily of the memories Christoph had shared with her last night. Daniel would be furious if he knew they were hiding something from him. Even back in 1996, he’d been upset by her closeness with Christoph.

‘It was nice of you to make that meal for him. He enjoyed it.’ Daniel held his hand up against the sun. ‘I’m curious, though. What made you want to make Sauerbraten? It’s such a traditional German recipe. My Oma used to cook it on the farm when I stayed with her.’

‘Christoph must have mentioned it,’ Julia said quickly, hoping he’d leave it at that. ‘I’ve been trying to think of things that would tempt him to eat.’

Daniel raised his eyebrows. ‘But where did you get the recipe from?’

Julia’s mind went blank. She should have anticipated his questions, but with everything going on and the lack of sleep, he’d caught her off guard. Then she remembered Hilde’s cookery books on the kitchen shelf. ‘One of your mum’s books.’

Daniel nodded. ‘Good thinking.’ He glanced at her. ‘You always were thoughtful. Perhaps that’s why he called out for you and not for me last night.’ His eyes betrayed a look of hurt.

‘He’s probably just got used to me being here the last few days,’ she said, hoping to reassure him. ‘It’ll be you he’s calling out for when I leave for Prague.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Daniel, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how long do you think you can stay?’ Julia asked. ‘What if something else comes up at work?’

Daniel sighed. ‘It won’t. The company’s making cutbacks. The day after Christoph collapsed, I had a meeting with my boss to try and convince him to keep me on. But I found out yesterday that I’ve been made redundant.’

So, that was the reason he’d asked her to stay. ‘Gosh, that’s terrible, I’m sorry, Daniel.’

‘I suppose they knew my heart wasn’t really in it.’

‘Still, it must be a blow.’

Daniel shrugged. ‘Not really in the scheme of things. I’m hardly destitute. I’ll find another job. I’ve seen much worse suffering out there in the world. Being made redundant is nothing compared to that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I was an aid worker in Pakistan two years ago when the drought was at its peak. Livestock died in their thousands, crops failed, people were starving. It was heartbreaking to see farms that had been around for generations just disappear.’

This was a different side to him. Julia had imagined his travels were all about having fun. ‘It must have been hard to witness, but I guess it puts things into perspective.’

‘It does,’ Daniel said. ‘So I promise, you don’t have to worry. I’ll look after Papa when you’ve gone.’ Daniel put his hand over his heart, like a soldier swearing an oath, and smiled.

Warmth stole through Julia. That smile. The one that made her heart somersault. She’d never expected to see it again.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

Christoph had a new lease of life about him. He got dressed and came down to lunch, humming as he sat down at the table. Julia was amazed to see the change in him. He still looked weak, but there was a renewed vitality in his eyes.

‘You seem so much better,’ Julia said. It was such a relief to see a glimpse of the old Christoph.

‘I feel much better,’ Christoph said. ‘I meant what I said last night. Your cooking has started something in me. I need to go back and find out what happened. I need to uncover my memories of the past. There is too much left hazy and unfocused.’

‘Find out what?’ Daniel said, coming into the kitchen.

He’d showered and changed, his wet hair slicked back. Julia swallowed and looked away. She took the reheated Sauerbraten out of the microwave and put it on the table.

Christoph glanced at Daniel. ‘I’m feeling restored by Julia’s cooking, and that’s made me want to explore things from my past, while I’m strong enough.’

Daniel sat down. ‘Your past?’ he said warily. ‘I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. Let’s focus on the present and get you on the mend first, shall we?’

Christoph twisted his glass of water. ‘Did I ever tell you about Paris?’

Julia stiffened. Was he about to tell Daniel about the recipe book?

‘What about Paris?’ Daniel said, his voice tight. The words hung in the air between them, full of a meaning that Julia didn’t understand.

‘I was stationed there during the war,’ Christophe said.

Daniel’s shoulders slackened. ‘Well, you mentioned it occasionally. You never liked to talk about the war, which I could understand. It wasn’t a war to be proud of.’

Christoph nodded. ‘No, it wasn’t. But that’s why I want to revisit that time again, to understand what really happened, my part in it all. I suppose you could call it a kind of balancing of the books, before it’s too late.’

Daniel reached out and squeezed his father’s hand. ‘There’s no need to talk as if there’s hardly any time left. You had a scare, that’s all. I think the past is best left well alone. For all our sakes.’

‘But if he wants to talk about it,’ Julia said, ‘surely there’s no harm.’

Daniel glanced at her. ‘The thing is, I spoke to the doctor earlier. She thinks he should have those tests.’ He turned to Christoph. ‘It might help if we knew what’s causing your memory lapses.’

Christoph frowned. ‘I’m not having lapses,’ he said.

‘You just said everything was hazy and unfocused. Please, Papa, let’s not ignore this,’ Daniel said.

‘Well, of course it’s hazy, I was in Paris nearly sixty years ago. It’s not dementia, it’s old age that’s bothering me.’

Daniel glanced at Julia and shrugged.

‘Perhaps Daniel’s right,’ Julia said gently. ‘You need to find out why it’s happening.’

Christoph shook his head and frowned. ‘Is this about the house?’ he said to Daniel.

‘The house?’

‘I got your letter. I haven’t forgotten that. You want to sell it.’

‘I thought you hadn’t read it. You never replied.’

Christoph sighed and sat back in his chair. ‘Downsizing is the last thing I want to think about now. This house is where I’ve lived for years, it’s where you grew up. I don’t want to leave here.’

Daniel leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘I know, and I don’t want you to worry about any of that at the moment, but if you’re struggling to cope, somewhere smaller might help. I had someone round to look at the house yesterday, just to see. It’s gone up in value. You need only release some of the equity, not the whole lot, and …’

‘Daniel, maybe now’s not the time,’ Julia said.

‘It’s all right, Julia,’ Christoph said, patting her hand. He turned back to Daniel. ‘I did think about your proposition, and I have decided to take some money out of the house …’

‘You have?’ Daniel said.

‘This health scare has shown me that I need to get things in order.’

Daniel looked at his father closely. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’d like to spend some time with you,’ Christoph said. He glanced at Julia. ‘With both of you.’

Hadn’t she explained this last night? ‘Christoph, I can’t stay much longer. Sebastian is expecting me in Prague tomorrow. He’s organized it all.’

Daniel stared at her. ‘Are you still with Sebastian?’

‘He’s my manager, yes.’

Daniel straightened his shoulders. ‘I see.’

‘It’s not up to Sebastian,’ Christoph said. ‘Your hands need a break. Sometimes going in the opposite direction can bring you back.’

‘Maybe,’ Julia said. The thought of a break was appealing. She was coming round to the idea. She hadn’t taken a rest for years. Perhaps it could be a chance to realign things and come back stronger.

‘If Julia’s staying, then you won’t need me,’ Daniel said.

‘Of course I do,’ Christoph said. ‘Tell me what this venture is you’re planning.’

Daniel pulled at the collar of his T-shirt. ‘I’d like to try and buy the old farm,’ Daniel said. ‘I promised Oma that I would if I ever got the chance. And it’s up for sale.’

‘Ah,’ Christoph said. ‘The farm in Effelsberg. Now I understand.’

‘Is that where you grew up, Christoph?’ Julia asked.

‘Yes, Hilde’s land adjoined ours, but we had the prettiest house overlooking the fields and woods. Why did we end up selling it, Daniel?’

‘Mama said it was because you needed the money from the sale of the house to pay for Oma’s nursing-home fees,’ Daniel replied. He turned to Julia. ‘Papa’s mother, my Oma, lived there until she was in her late eighties. I went to stay with her every summer, and I loved being there. I was heartbroken when the farm was sold. I told her that I’d try and get it back. Mama left me some money, but it’s tied up in this house.’

Christoph pushed his plate away. ‘I’ll think about selling this house, but on one condition …’

‘What’s that?’ Daniel said.

‘That there’s no more talk about tests, and you come away with Julia and me. There are places I want to see before I get too old. We can talk about the farm and see if you still want to buy it when we get back.’

Julia looked up startled. Come away with Julia and me.

‘Really?’ Daniel said ‘You’ll consider it?’

Christoph nodded.

‘You never mentioned anything about us all going away,’ Julia said.

Christoph rubbed his temples. His white hair was thin in the sunlight. ‘I want to go back to Paris. I need to see it all again.’

Daniel looked concerned. ‘I’m not sure Paris is such a good idea, Papa.’

‘Please, Daniel, I want to find myself before it’s too late. I know you’re not keen on going there, but I need to remember.’

‘That’s what you really want, is it?’ Daniel asked. ‘A trip to Paris so that you can come to terms with the part you played in the war?’

Christoph nodded. Daniel sighed and glanced at Julia. She looked away, conscious that there was more to Christoph’s desire to go to Paris than simply that. Clearly, Christoph didn’t feel this was the right time to tell his son about the recipe book.

‘But you’re still weak, Christoph,’ she said. ‘You need to rest.’

Christoph sat up, a determined look in his eye. Julia caught a glimpse of the young man he’d once been. The young man who Sylvie would have known.

‘I can rest at Le Meurice,’ he said. ‘My mind is made up, I want to go, and I need you both to take me.’