The House by the Lake (13 page)

Two days later, Isabelle alighted from Max’s town car in Berlin. She had been to more balls than she could count in Paris, even though she had always felt on the outside. Not one of them stood out for her—but here in Berlin’s glamorous Hotel Adlon, the scene before her was quite something else. She knew that her feelings were heightened because she was with Max, who had told her that the Adlon was one of Europe’s most famous hotels.

Isabelle’s pale silk dress was fitted in the bodice and hung in a straight line to her feet. When she removed her fur coat, Max placed a hand on her back. She had never felt so alive in her life.

The crowd consisted of a swirl of dignitaries and foreign press officers, all mingling in a glorious room filled with gilt and flowers. The guests looked utterly at home and sophisticated, and, for the first time, Isabelle had a sense of what Marthe might have felt when she had entered the highest ranks of Parisian society—accepted as one of them and yet right on the edge.

Max was representing his family. Otto Albrecht had been invited as the largest landowner in Prussia, but he had given the invitation to Max instead.

Later in the evening, Max found himself engaged in a discussion with an American journalist who seemed intensely interested in how Max saw his family’s future in a country run by Hitler. Max had one hand in Isabelle’s as she chatted in French with the man on her other side, a charming newspaper correspondent from Switzerland. She had danced with him after dinner, which had been at a table for two hundred.

But it was later still that Isabelle’s heart plummeted to her pink satin dancing shoes. It was at the point that Max became involved in a conversation with a man in uniform that she gained an inkling of what was going to transpire. Max was clearly interested in what the Nazi officer had to say. Isabelle managed to catch his eye, but Max averted his gaze, fast. When Max shook the man’s hand at the end, he told the man that he would report for duty the following morning.

Isabelle felt cold. Suddenly, she wanted to go home.

The following morning, all the servants lined up on the curved driveway in front of the house to say farewell to Max. Isabelle wanted to throw her arms around him so very badly, but she could not show her emotions here, and it was taking every ounce of her strength not to burst into tears.

Max had told her on the way home from Berlin in the car in the early hours of the morning that Hitler was planning to restore universal military service. There was talk of a conscripted army, so it was possible he would have been called up soon anyway.

He had had a conversation earlier that day with his parents. They had told him that they expected him to join the army now, that it was his duty, that they knew he would not let them down or fail to do what was right for the future of Germany, their family, the village, their way of life, and its continuing prosperity. Most importantly, they had impressed upon him the fact that their country had to be kept safe—Max would be doing what a long line of his ancestors had done before him, including his father, who had fought in the last war.

Now, Otto Albrecht, the great landowner, was quiet, while Elsa simply laid a hand on her son’s shoulder. Then she leaned up and kissed her son’s smooth young cheek.

When Max came to say his formal goodbye to Isabelle, he kept things brief. He had caught her after breakfast on the stairs earlier that morning—they had held each other then. Isabelle had not slept the night before, and yet when she had looked in the mirror after her farewell to Max, her eyes had stared back at her, wide. Hideously alert.

He leaned down now, kissed her on the cheek. She took in the familiar scent of his aftershave, held it as close as she could, and closed her eyes.

“I hope it will not be too long, my darling girl,” he said.

Isabelle took his hand in hers and ran her fingers over his warm palm for the last time before he went. She nodded. She couldn’t find the words. Why was it so hard to be separated from him? She had no sensible answer to this question, or to the question of why she loved him, to the question of what on earth was going to happen next, or to the question of when she would see him again.

Berlin, 2010

Wil stopped the car outside Anna’s hotel. The drive back from Schloss Siegel had passed quickly. Anna held the little jewelry box safely in her hands. Wil had kept up light conversation, but everything unsaid had hung between them like the dead light bulb in the main entrance at the Schloss. Turning it on would illuminate everything—throw up all the cracks in their conversations, show all the unswept dirt, highlight the things that seemed to linger every time they met.

People drifted in and out of the revolving glass doors, maps in hand. Tourists in Berlin.

“You have what you came for, I guess,” Wil said, his voice shifting down a few notches as he turned off the car’s engine. He was quiet for a moment. “Anna, I know you wanted to talk about the Schloss. But I suggest you leave it well alone. Go back to your old life—forget about the past.”

“I can’t do that.” She never would have imagined she could become so invested in the fate of the old palace. She was normally so businesslike—if anything, people accused her of being too practical. Were she to return home, give Max his ring, and try to move on, she would only be lying to herself about what mattered.

Wil seemed to smile back at her with his eyes. “Go and look after your grandfather. You have a life in San Francisco—don’t let that fall apart chasing ghosts around here. You can’t change anything in Germany.”

Anna turned the faded box over in her hand. She pressed the little silver button that released the clasp, opening the tiny lid to reveal the ring nestled in the frayed silk lining.

The ring remained surprisingly well preserved. It was tarnished with age, of course it was—but seventy years of darkness had not destroyed its inherent beauty. It was the symbol of a dream that had never come to fruition. But why? What had happened? What had stopped Max from being with the woman he loved, caused him to talk of the situation as his greatest regret, caused him to keep the affair a secret for seventy years?

Wil’s hand rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes were on the ring. The single, clear diamond was set in a band of white gold. Intricate art deco patterns decorated the band.

“It’s like a fairy tale in reverse,” Anna whispered.

“Is it?” There was indulgence in his voice.

“Max’s story. Happily ever after didn’t work out for him for some reason—but then he created his own once-upon-a-time in the New World.”

Wil, thankfully, did not laugh.

“I’d better go,” Anna said, snapping the box shut, unclipping her seat belt. “Thank you,” she said. “I know how much Max will appreciate this.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Wil said. “Not an ordinary case. It has been interesting.”

Anna felt deflated when Wil called it a “case.” But she pushed this aside. “You’ll need an address for the account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Anna turned to him.

His eyes met hers and he ran a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head.

But then, something in Anna’s being kicked into gear. She couldn’t leave it here. She had to say something right now.

“Wil,” she said. “I can’t go home and leave Siegel as it is. I have to do something. No matter what you say.”

“It’s a useless business. You won’t get anywhere.”

“I know that your grandfather tried and—it hurt him greatly. I understand that. But it’s going to bother me all my life.”

“You’ll be wasting your time.”

“While we were driving back to Berlin, I came up with a plan.”

Wil shook his head, but Anna could see warmth passing into his expression.

“First, I need to find out what happened—why things are the way they are at the Schloss and in the village. Then I’ll have to talk to the new owners, see if I can persuade them to do something. I’m not trying to buy the Schloss. It’s different from what your grandfather tried to do, but it would be criminal to let it go to ruin.”

“But you’re not even German. You don’t live here. How are you going to go about any of it?”

“I am a quarter German. And this place is in my bones.”

Wil leaned on the steering wheel. “I know you’ve heard this before, but it’s impossible for an outsider to understand what has happened here. It’s so damned complex. You can’t just come in here and . . .”

“Someone has to try!”

“Your involvement will be seen as interference. Someone else owns the Schloss now. It’s out of your hands. Sorry to be brutal. You have to move on. Put your head down. Leave it alone.”

“How would I feel if I didn’t even try?”

A wry expression passed across Wil’s face. “Are you sure you’re not a covert lawyer, Anna? You know, the art falls in the choosing. You can kill yourself over a project that you know deep down will only destroy you. Like I said . . .”

“As you say, this is a choice. And it’s mine to make.”

Wil raised a brow.

“First, I’d like to do some more . . . research. Would you mind if I got in touch should I need some help?”

Wil leaned back in his seat. “I’ve warned you.”

Anna felt a flicker of irritation, but she needed Wil if she was ever going to speak to the people who owned Siegel.

“No point starting with a title search,” Wil said, sounding almost cheerful. “The Schloss is in the name of a trust, and that name means nothing. It won’t tell you anything. Just in case you were wondering.”

“I see.”

Anna could understand that Wil was not going to stand by and watch another person spend years doing what his grandfather had done. On the other hand, if she could get Wil on her side, he could be of real help. He was just the person she needed—he spoke German, knew the area, knew her family history, represented the new owner.

Anna placed a hand on the door handle.

“Anna—” Wil started.

“Thank you so much for your help today.” She would resort to politeness. “I am very appreciative.” She reached out her hand for him to shake.

Wil seemed to be stifling a grin. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said. “No problem at all. Take care. Enjoy San Francisco.”

Anna nodded and climbed out of the car.

The first thing she did once she was back in the hotel was to pick up her phone and call Max. She leaned back on her bed as she waited to be put through to him, gazing out the window at the building opposite her hotel—yet another new office block in the old East.

“Oh, my darling girl,” Max said when Anna told him that she had found the ring. She skimmed over the details, only letting him know how it had felt to stand in his old bedroom, how the view over the lake was probably much the same as ever.

“Thank you,” he said. “Honestly. You have no idea. Just to see the ring again . . .”

There was a weariness in his voice that worried Anna, though. She decided not to bother him with her plan to find out more about Schloss Siegel just now.

“Grandfather,” Anna said when she sensed that Max was really becoming tired. “Would you mind if I stayed just a little longer here in Germany?”

Max chuckled. “I’d be delighted if you did. I’d love for you to enjoy a little break from work.”

“Thank you!” She would try not to be too long.

“I’m being cared for perfectly well,” Max continued, as if he had seen the threads spinning on their spools in Anna’s mind. “Now is the perfect time for you to take a break. You’ve been looking after me for years. I’m in the hospital. Perfectly well cared for. Surrounded by delightful nurses.”

He had a point. Anna could fly home quickly if she needed to.

And her investigations were not just about the past. They were about the future, and heritage, and beauty, and—most importantly—people, about seeing if anything could be done to wake the town of Siegel up again, to entice young people back into the village. It was only an hour away from one of the busiest cities in Europe. Surely, something could be done. If she could find investors, people to help the new owners . . .

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a project.” Max’s voice slid into her mind.