54 Clara
54
Clara
September, 2002 – Bonn
As they sat talking in the garden, Clara heard the back door click open. Curious and wide-eyed, a young woman came out. She wore a long white skirt, a fitted black T-shirt and white pumps.
‘You see it too,’ Christoph said, noticing her gaze. ‘Back when I met her, I’d sworn that I wouldn’t teach any more students, I had practically retired, but I had to take her on. She had a look of you. I’m so glad I did.’
‘Is this who I think it is?’ Julia said, coming over. ‘Clara Saunders?’
‘Yes, it most certainly is.’ Clara looked over at Christoph and smiled. ‘He’s been telling me how you cooked my recipes for him.’
‘I’d never cooked in my life,’ Julia said. ‘It’s been trial and error, mostly error.’ She stared at the two of them. ‘I just can’t believe it. I’m so relieved you’re here.’
‘And I’m so grateful you discovered my real name.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Christoph asked Julia.
‘I didn’t want to raise your hopes if it came to nothing. I didn’t tell Daniel either, only Anna, she helped me out.’
Clara glanced back towards the house. She’d often thought about that little boy on the street corner. During the flight here, she’d wondered what sort of man he’d become.
‘Daniel’s here?’ she said.
‘He’s unloading the car. I’ll go and get him.’
‘Oh …’ Clara said, but Julia was gone, sprinting over the grass. Clara glanced at Christoph.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘He’ll be fine. He knows that I gave you up for him.’
Julia returned with Daniel. He looked as nervous as Clara was. She took a deep breath and stood up.
‘Daniel,’ she said.
He stretched out his arm to shake her hand.
‘It’s so nice to meet you,’ he said, but there was something guarded in his expression.
‘This calls for a celebration,’ Julia said. ‘There’s champagne in the fridge. I bought some last week, just in case.’
The awkwardness abated a little as the cork popped and the champagne fizzed in the glasses. It was like looking at the scene from afar. Christoph, weak and frail, but still recognizable by his shining eyes. Daniel, older, no longer a child but still wary. And Julia, almost a younger version of herself but with a grace and confidence that Clara had lacked.
Suddenly it was too much. Clara hid her head in her hands, sobs rising from the long-buried part of herself that had always loved Christoph.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was mortifying to break down in front of them all. ‘It’s been so hard, all these years. I’ve just realized how lonely I’ve been.’
Christoph’s arms gathered around her, holding her tight.
‘Oh, my dear,’ he said. ‘It’s all right. You’re here now. We’re together again at last.’
It seemed she had come just in time. Or rather, there was no time at all. The doctor visited every day, although Christoph fussed and said it wasn’t necessary. A nurse was employed to administer pain relief and make him comfortable. Clara couldn’t believe that Christoph, her Christoph, was slipping away.
One day, Clara ventured up to Daniel’s room. There were ladders propped against the wall and roller trays full of grey paint.
‘Julia is evasive and polite when I ask her, and Christoph brushes off my questions, so I wondered if you could tell me the truth, please. How long does he have?’
Daniel put down the brush he was using to paint the edges and rubbed his hands on his overalls.
‘A week or two at the most,’ he said.
‘I see.’
‘Are you going to stay?’
‘I would like to – that is, if you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘This is your time with him too, Daniel. I don’t want to get in the way of that.’
Daniel stirred the paint. ‘Christoph was desperate to find you. Julia did everything she could. I’m afraid I was reluctant – well, more than that, if I’m honest. I thought it was a wild-goose chase, one that risked harming more than helping.’
‘And now?’
‘It’s good to see him happy and at peace. But the bond you share is something I was never part of. Perhaps you even resent me for the fact that he chose me that time.’ Daniel glanced at her. ‘It’s just a bit awkward, that’s all.’
‘Oh Daniel, you were only a child. I felt pity for you that day. You’d been dragged into something that was probably confusing and distressing for you.’
‘But he left you for me.’
Daniel was so much taller than her, young and strong, yet vulnerable.
‘He did leave me,’ she said. ‘But for a good reason. It made complete sense that the kind, loyal Christoph I knew and loved would never want to give you up.’
‘Is that what you really thought?’ Daniel said.
‘It’s what I still think,’ Clara replied. ‘I never had children of my own, but if I did and I was faced with the same dilemma I’d have done the same thing.’
She wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure how he’d respond. Instead, she patted his arm.
‘I’ll let you get on with your painting,’ she said. ‘It’s going to look really nice.’ She smiled and went to the door
‘Clara,’ Daniel said.
She turned to face him.
‘Thank you for being here,’ Daniel said, and she knew that he meant it.
The next day, Clara found Julia in the kitchen. The place was a mess. Pots and pans covered the countertop. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Julia’s face was red and flustered.
‘Damn it,’ Julia said. ‘I can’t get this mixture to be smooth. I’ve tried it twice now and both times it’s been lumpy.’
‘What are you making?’ Clara asked.
‘The last recipe in the book. He’s not eating much. The doctor said that’s inevitable and not to worry. But if he’s not eating, he’ll keep getting weaker, and then …’ Julia’s voice cracked. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, my dear, you’ve worked so hard these last few months,’ Clara said. She poured Julia a glass of wine and sat her down at the table.
‘I want to make the madeleines au citron,’ Julia said, ‘but I keep getting it wrong.’
‘It’s fiddly with the egg whites,’ Clara said. ‘Let me help you.’
‘But you’d much rather be with Christoph. Every moment is precious.’
‘Every moment is precious. But he’s sleeping now, and spending time with the young woman who reunited us is precious too.’ Clara glanced around the kitchen. ‘I can’t work in this mess. One of the first rules in my kitchen is that a tidy workspace means a splendid dish.’
‘I’ll sort it out.’
‘You stay where you are.’
Clara cleaned the dishes in the sink and put the ingredients in order. Underneath the madeleine tin, she found the recipe book.
‘Goodness,’ she said. She stroked the cover. A relic from long ago. ‘I never expected to see it again. It looks so old and battered.’
‘I found it under the stairs,’ Julia said. ‘Later, I found the key to the apartment in Christoph’s suitcase. It’s been quite a journey, following his memories. I never thought a love like yours really existed.’
‘And now?’ Clara asked.
‘Well …’
‘You’re thinking of Daniel,’ Clara said, smiling.
Julia glanced up. ‘Maybe, but I’m afraid. When I’m no longer needed here, what will happen? My career will start up again. Daniel will get on with his farming. We’ll be apart and I’m not good at balancing everything.’
‘It’s hard,’ Clara said. ‘I’m not sure I ever managed it either. But does it have to be so intense? You’re a good pianist – extraordinary, Christoph says. It shouldn’t be a choice between doing the thing you love and keeping the man you love.’
‘I suppose not,’ Julia said. ‘I’d love to do more composing.’
Clara took a fresh batch of eggs from the fridge and a bowl from the cupboard. ‘The best way to separate the whites from the yolk is to crack the shell gently in the middle. Then shift the egg yolk back and forth between the eggshell halves, letting the whites spill over into the bowl. Here, you try …’
Clara watched Julia as she set to work. She had it all ahead of her – a life perhaps with Daniel, a career. Clara hoped that no war or catastrophe would interrupt Julia and Daniel’s relationship, as it had hers and Christoph’s. Yet if it hadn’t been for the war they would never have met. Life was strange that way. Clara had given up trying to fathom it out.
That evening Clara carried the madeleines up to Christoph’s room. Daniel and Julia came too. It was clear that he was very weak. But despite being so near death his eyes retained their old sparkle.
Christoph took a bite of the madeleine and looked over at Clara, puzzled.
‘It tastes delicious,’ he said, ‘but I have no recollection of eating these with you. Perhaps the link between my tastebuds and my memory is waning.’
Clara stroked his arm.
‘We never ate them together. I made a batch the day we were supposed to meet in Paris. After you called me to tell me it was over I threw them all away. This is the first time I’ve made them since.’
‘You’ve had so little time together over the years,’ Daniel said.
‘I don’t measure it in years,’ Christoph replied. ‘I measure it in moments. These last few weeks with you all have been more precious than anything.’
Clara wiped her eyes. His voice was so faint, but he was unmistakeably Christoph. Daniel got up and hugged him, Julia at his side. It was clear how much they loved him. Despite Christoph’s words, time was slipping through his fingers.
Daniel and Julia went downstairs to wash up. Clara lay down next to Christoph. She tucked herself against his body, her hand resting on his chest. His breathing was almost imperceptible, his eyes closed.
‘I love you,’ he said.
‘I love you too. I never stopped.’
He put his arm around her. ‘Look after them, won’t you?’
Clara nodded. She took one last look at him in the soft light of the bedside lamp. His grey hair and etched face still bore the traces of the man who’d offered to bandage her hands at Maxim’s all those years ago. The man who’d overcome her hatred by simply being himself. He’d never changed his name or been anyone else, and she loved him for it.
‘Good night, Christoph,’ she said. Then she turned out the light, closed her eyes and settled down to sleep in his arms.