Out of Such Darkness (10 page)

Stop worrying about the shoes. There are weighty matters to be discussed. Pay attention.  

‘Jay?’

Jay snaps back into the room as Teri enters with two plastic cups. She gives him the one with water. She places the other on the desk before smoothing her skirt, sitting in the chair alongside Jay’s and crossing her legs. He recognises her perfume as it settles around him but can’t put a name to it.

Nathan lifts the cup, raises it – ‘Thank you, Teri’ – and sips. Jay is thinking about the way the age in Nathan’s face contrasts with his boy’s body.

This man’s appearance is not the problem. What he has for you – this is your problem. Now, achtung!

Jay straightens his back and focuses on Nathan’s eyes.

The lawyer uses the next ten minutes to repeat his telephone conversation with Jay giving the layman’s explanation of the company’s legal position now that the two main partners are dead. In each case the partnership passes into their estates and is dealt with as an asset under the terms of the wills. In the case of Straub, DuCheyne these wills work in concert with the partnership agreement that, he reads from a paper in front of him: ‘obligates the surviving partner or partners to purchase the partnership or partnerships from the deceased partner’s or partners’ beneficiaries under their wills’.

When Nathan mentions that he has an obligation to Francois and Glen, Jay reaches for the water. His fingers tremble; his skin is clammy.

‘Do you remember the terms of the partnership agreement, Jay? Have you brought your copy?’ Nathan peers over the desk expectantly but sees that Jay doesn’t carry a briefcase.

‘Uh! I kept all that stuff in the office.’ Jay hears Teri clicking a ballpoint pen into action.

‘Too bad. Nothing to worry about, though. Teri can provide you with copies.’

She reaches down into her briefcase for a yellow legal pad. She makes a note and re-crosses her legs.

Stop thinking about her and consider the matter in the hand.

Nathan steeples his fingers in front of his face and crinkles his eyes. This draws up the corners of his mouth. It resembles a smile. ‘All it means is this. Francois and Glen have family members who, until you buy them out under the terms of the agreement, own the majority stake in the company. I’ve met with these family members and their instinct is that, with Francois and Glen gone, the business should not continue. However, they’ll respect your wishes if you want to carry on. Do you have a view at this moment in time?’

Jay is reeling from the words, ‘buy them out under the terms of the agreement’. How much is this going to cost?

‘Jay? Do you want to continue the business alone? Have you decided?’

You on your own? With Rachel wanting to go home as soon as possible?

Jay shakes his head. ‘No.’

Nathan raises his eyebrow. ‘No?’

‘No – I mean I don’t want to keep the business going. I think we’re going back to the UK as soon as it’s practicable.’ Waves of distress threaten to overwhelm him as he wonders whether they will be able to go back to England once the terms of the agreement he so foolishly signed have been satisfied.

Nathan lowers his hands into his lap. Jay sees him only as a child in an outsize chair. ‘Good. Good.’ The lawyer nods towards Teri. ‘Perhaps you can apprise Mr Halprin as to the current state of the company.’

The words ‘current state’ stimulate Jay’s sweat glands.

She nods, says, ‘Surely,’ and, uncrossing her legs, turns to Jay. ‘Nathan delegated me to look into the company on the day after the tragedy. I contacted
Safa-Data
and we have set up Straub, DuCheyne in this room.’ She points to her closed laptop. ‘This computer has been configured with Mr DuCheyne’s access codes. As far as the data is concerned, I am Mr DuCheyne, if you will.’

There’s a pause and Jay is the first to break. ‘And what does it tell you?’

‘The company’s in a healthy position.’

His temperature stabilises; the pressure drains away.

‘It appears that the managing partners have always kept a healthy cash reserve, equivalent to six-month’s trading. But you’ll know this from your due diligence.’

‘Due diligence?’ Jay says.

‘The investigations you carried out when you joined the company?’

‘I just went with assurances from Francois and Glen that the company was sound.’

Teri raises a dark eyebrow and studies the back of her left hand. The only ring is on her second finger. ‘Surely. In this case your trust was well-founded. There’s very little debt – mostly small invoices that we can settle. Given the circumstances, some companies may have written them off already so we’ll wait for them to chase us. Payroll is the biggest obligation. Under our advisement the families of Messrs DuCheyne and Straub have instructed us to pay the employees in full this month and make a further ex-gratia payment in October. I assume you’ll concur.’ She raises an eyebrow.

Jay brings both hands up in front of him to signal his agreement.

‘The in-service death benefits are insured and the insurers are looking at how to handle claims now. It seems certain that they’ll waive normal proof requirements and work on the basis that as long as a Trade Center employee left for work that morning and hasn’t been seen since the dependants have a valid claim.’

Jay is dizzy from information. His view of the room is fading; it feels as if the ground is sliding under his feet.

Teri continues, ‘There’s business continuity insurance in place and we’re trying to find out the terms of settlement given the extraordinary circumstances here. It’s likely there’ll be compensation from one body or another. All in all, the current value of the business, even though it’s not a going concern, is substantial. Over a million dollars.’

Jay’s not sure whether this is good news or bad. Does he have to find this figure and pay it to Glen and Francois’s dependants? ‘What does this mean?’ he says.

Teri looks at Nathan who nods for her to answer. ‘Briefly, Mr Halprin – Jay – it means that, even before the partnership assurance, your share of the business is a conservative $200,000.
’

Look at that. Everybody dies and you win the lottery!

‘Sorry, I need to understand clearly. That’s without any obligations. I won’t owe the managing partners’ families anything.’ Jay turns to the small man in the big chair. The corner office in the dingy building. The sting of perfume pervading the atmosphere. Everything is surreal.

‘Remember what we said, Jay,’ Nathan says, ‘the managing partners’ families think it best to end the partnership. This means that on their say-so – which is the majority, remember – Teri is winding up the company. When she’s completed this job – probably in the New Year she’ll send you your share of the proceeds. Are you clear now?’

Jay does a quick calculation. He visualises their most recent bank statement. He knows what Rachel will ask when he gets home. ‘And between then and now?’

Nathan steeples his stubby fingers again. ‘Like the other employees you’ll receive this full month’s salary and an ex-gratia payment for October.’

That should be adequate to the end of the year, Jay thinks. ‘Is there anything else?’ This sounds mercenary. ‘I mean, have we covered everything?’

Nathan’s face is grim. ‘You
have
forgotten all the forms you signed when you were in my office.’

‘Jet-lag!’ He attempts a lame grin.

‘Teri? Over to you again, I think.’ He shakes his head. ‘Don’t you remember going for the insurance medical?’

Jay recalls a modern clinic facility in Burford Station where he underwent tests. He was passed fit enough for the company’s death benefit scheme. ‘I don’t get paid death-in-service; I’m still alive.’

‘You are indeed but there’s the small matter of the life assurance you took out to underpin the partnership agreement. Teri?’

Jay’s questioning why Nathan can’t give him the news himself. Is it so bad?

Teri reaches into her briefcase. Her manner is business-like, deliberate.

‘The necessity for you to pay the managing partners’ families under the partnership agreements will be lost when the company dissolves,’ Teri says. ‘But the policies of life insurance that you took out on each of the managing partners under the reciprocal agreements are still valid. There was insurable interest at the time the policies were taken out and this is all that counts.’ She shuffles through a sheaf of papers. ‘Ah! Here it is. Sums assured of $1.5 million on each life, Mr DuCheyne and Mr Straub. I have the claim forms for you to sign today. I’m sure New York Life will expedite things. I imagine you’ll receive a check for the $3million sometime next month.’ She neither smiles nor scowls. She’s keeping her manner neutral.

Jay throws himself back into his chair. A surge of laughter rises in his throat and he swallows it down.

Because nobody in this dusty cubicle can allow themselves to treat this as good news.

As the days shortened, so we Wednesday men met ever earlier, catching the end of the daylight before the dark hid our furtive assignations. Soon it would be too cold and my activities would be confined only to the clubs around the Nolli where it was poor form to arrive or leave as a couple.

It was late September, destined to be one of my last nights at Rosa’s Bridge, when I met Wolf. I had arrived a little early. The bats were not yet in the air and there was too much light for cigarette smoking so I went farther west along the canal towpath than was my custom. The trees of the Tiergarten, the ones bordering the Neuen See, were on my right as I walked along the path. After say fifteen minutes following the canal around the long bend, I was ready to turn back so I would be at the meeting point at the right time.

That’s when I saw him, shoulders hunched, hands in trench-coat pockets, scurrying towards me. At first, I perceived him as a youth who had put on his father’s coat and hat, wearing them more for concealment than for warmth or style. As we passed each other he looked up at me and I saw fear in his eyes. He seemed to be about to say something but hesitated.

I stopped and turned. Had I let him down by not showing some recognition of the needy look he gave me? I spoke in German. “Are you looking for something? Can I help you, please?”

He took a step back, his head down, presenting me only with a side-view of the brim of his hat. “Is there a footbridge further down where I may cross the canal?”

“Yes. If you walk on for about ten minutes you will find it.”

“Is it by the Zoo?”

“Yes, by the Zoo.”

He looked up. He was awfully young. Did I recognise him then? His face was flushed. There was a down of blond hair on his upper lip. “Thank you,” he said.

I was concerned for his safety. He was an attractive boy and there was an element of ‘rough trade’ who met by the bridge. Did he know where he was going? “Are you looking for a
special
place?”

He put his hands into the pockets of the raincoat and shrugged. “Not particularly.” He looked up into my face but only briefly before studying his shoes once again. Perhaps he noticed the small amount of kohl I had applied to my eyelids. He seemed to be on the point of making a decision that required all his willpower. “Is the bridge we are talking about sometimes called Rosa’s Bridge?” he asked.

“Not by everybody,” I said. “Are you looking for Rosa’s Bridge?”

There were tears in his eyes. “Yes.”

“And you know what happens there?”

He stepped away from me as if I was about to strike him. His head moved urgently to one side like a startled fawn that has heard a twig snap in the undergrowth.

“Can you not tell from my accent – I am British? I am not likely to be a policeman, am I? You should not be scared of me.”

He relaxed but he seemed to be on the point of turning away.

I reached out my right hand and touched his forearm. “It is getting dark. You look very young to me. I am not sure you are old enough to look after yourself if you go to Rosa’s Bridge.”

“But, I am!” His bottom lip was jutting out and trembling.

I smiled, trying to look like a kindly older brother and I swear that at this first meeting my thoughts were only for this youth’s wellbeing. Was he making the right choices when he was so young? “Why don’t we go for a coffee and we shall talk about it. If you still want to go the bridge afterwards there will still be time.”

“Why should I go with you?”

“Because I am worried about you. Perhaps I can help you make sure that what you are doing is right. I do not imagine you have anybody in your family you can talk to, do you?”

“How do you know?”

“We all have the same experience. By the way, do you have any cigarettes?”

“I do not smoke.”

I took him by the arm and chuckled. “If you are going to Rosa’s Bridge you will have to learn to smoke. It is the way you meet … other men. So, we will have a coffee and you can buy some cigarettes – if you still think you are going to need them. Now, is there a cafe back the way you came? We do not want to carry on this way until you are sure you are ready.”

When we had put our hats on the table and we were under the electric light, I became aware of two things. Firstly, that this young man was young – too young for the sort of thing that went on by Rosa’s Bridge – and I recognised him but I couldn’t place him. I tried to recall the attractive young Berliners I had bumped into during my three months. The review of my memory came back blank.

We ordered coffees.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Wolfgang. My friends call me Wolf.”

“Do you mind if I call you Wolf also?”

“Please do.”

We waited while the waitress served the coffee. “I am sorry,” I said, “I didn’t ask whether you would like some cake with your coffee.”

“No, this is fine.” He twirled the cup in the saucer so the handle was to his left and lifted it to his lips. He took a sip and drew the cup away suddenly. “Hot!”

“You are left-handed,” I said.

“Such a thing is not allowed,’ he said. ‘When I was a child I had my left arm tied to my side so I had to write – do everything – with my right hand.”

“People do not accept difference,” I said.

His intelligent eyes met mine. “Can we speak English? I have been taught English and I would be more comfortable …” he looked round at the other tables, all with couples – men and women – looking across at each other silently, “… if we are going to talk about … difference.”

“If it pleases you,” I said in my native tongue.

“Please – it would be better, I am sure.” His English was heavily accented but not at all hesitant. He had been taught well.

“So you know what happens at … the bridge.” I looked round but nobody seemed to be taking any notice.

“Yes, it is well-known in Berlin. The authorities are aware but they allow it to continue.”

“Not for long if Herr Hitler is elected.” I made sure I said the name under my breath. A conversation in English about politics would arouse interest.

“Yes. But it would be for the greater good if the National Socialists lead Germany. This is our destiny. What is my individual … difference … against what is right for the Fatherland?”

It was when he said this word that I became aware of where I had seen him before. “You’re in the Hitler Youth,” I said.

“Yes.”

“I think I saw you leading the singing at Neuen See a few Sundays ago.”

He blushed. “This could be so.”

“You have a beautiful voice.”

He looked down at his coffee, took it up in both hands and took a long sip. “Thank you.”

“Do you mind me asking how old you are?”

He counted silently. “I have fifteen years.”

“Funfzehn!”

“Ja.”

“Then you must not go to the bridge. You are far too young to know your mind – your sexuality.” This word is similar in German and I looked up furtively again. We did not seem to have drawn attention.

“I know what I am.” He sounded desperate. “I do not find girls exciting the way do other boys. I want to be certain.”

I tried to think back to the way I had been at fifteen. It had been a relatively easy time. I was at public school where ‘homo’ was the only sex in town. Those of us who did not see it as second-best kept our feelings to ourselves while we made the most of the opportunity.

I imagined it must be very different to grow up in a regimented German environment and it was certainly contrary to everything the Hitler Youth stood for. Poor Wolf was trying to run before he could walk.

I took out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”

He waved a hand. “Nein.”

I smiled sympathetically. “Wolf. I want to help you discover yourself. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

He nodded. He was blushing again.