...tree had to read the last few twice as they sailed over his head... Excellent, PKin
Tree
Tree
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So it is, Tree.
Mind you, I did have a mad moment. I thought, "what are egg and pouts? I've heard of egg and bacon, and egg and chips, but never egg and pouts."
P
Pia
Guest
Ooooh - I really really like that catch! Egg and pouts on toast please with a gloop of brown sauce and a fried tomato, if you please... oooh, and a slip of my hand to where it feels comfortable too if that's ok with you? Hmmm - I am so sure it is.... I hope it's as smooth as a free-range egg shell... I am so sure it will be because you know that's how I like my pouts!So it is, Tree.
Mind you, I did have a mad moment. I thought, "what are egg and pouts? I've heard of egg and bacon, and egg and chips, but never egg and pouts."
P
Pia
Guest
The three girls stroll slowly along the shady path, crossing the Oss to the meadows beyond. It’s April now and the spring sun through the lindens is casting dappled shadows on the grass, the air is pleasantly warm. Their arms linked, their hair pinned up, they smile to each other as they attract the gazes and discrete nods of husbands taking the air with their wives and mistresses before an early lunch and an afternoon in the Kurhaus Casino. Markus is still in the gymnasium in the Hotel Brenner Park, but has promised to join them for lunch in the café in the Küferstraße. The clocks are just striking twelve as they settle themselves at the table set in the little courtyard and order their drinks. An ageing man of military bearing turns from his newspaper to stare just a little too long at the pretty trio in their soft cotton dresses, strokes his moustache and reluctantly returns to the report of the launch of the SS Vaterland at Blohm und Voss, tapping his pipe on the table-edge. Markus arrives, his jet black hair still damp from the shower, his tennis shirt open at the neck. Slumping down, his flannelled legs stretched out, he orders himself a pilsner.
Lunch is eaten and the chatter slows. Gisela’s heard all the news from Berlin and Tristana has exhausted herself with tales of balls and concerts. The sun’s high in the sky and the Spring shadows shorten. They discuss how to pass the afternoon and rejecting the charms of yet another walk through the gardens in the Lichtentaler Allee they opt for the frivolity of the Italian gardens in Das Paradies, hailing a cab as they leave the café. Markus sits opposite Gisela, his foot almost touching hers, sometimes stroking her calf as the cab jolts over the setts. He’s never really looked at her properly, but he does now. He tries to catch her eye as she glances at him from under the brim of her wide straw hat, but she won’t look at him. She reaches out for Tristana’s gloved hand their fingers embrace. Brangane’s looking at Markus, at the sheen on his hair; hair as black as Tristana’s. She tilts her head, sensing her own breathing as she imagines his strong chest as it rises and falls beneath his slightly sweat-dampened shirt. Then looks away as they ride along Sophienstraße and turn towards the handsomely-proportioned villas and the dark hanging trees of Scheibenstraße.
Lunch is eaten and the chatter slows. Gisela’s heard all the news from Berlin and Tristana has exhausted herself with tales of balls and concerts. The sun’s high in the sky and the Spring shadows shorten. They discuss how to pass the afternoon and rejecting the charms of yet another walk through the gardens in the Lichtentaler Allee they opt for the frivolity of the Italian gardens in Das Paradies, hailing a cab as they leave the café. Markus sits opposite Gisela, his foot almost touching hers, sometimes stroking her calf as the cab jolts over the setts. He’s never really looked at her properly, but he does now. He tries to catch her eye as she glances at him from under the brim of her wide straw hat, but she won’t look at him. She reaches out for Tristana’s gloved hand their fingers embrace. Brangane’s looking at Markus, at the sheen on his hair; hair as black as Tristana’s. She tilts her head, sensing her own breathing as she imagines his strong chest as it rises and falls beneath his slightly sweat-dampened shirt. Then looks away as they ride along Sophienstraße and turn towards the handsomely-proportioned villas and the dark hanging trees of Scheibenstraße.
P
Pia
Guest
So, I imagine you’re wondering what happened at Das Paradies, aren’t you? Well, we had a nice time really. We dashed around the trick fountains and laughed a lot and our dresses became slightly wet and I did get the distinct impression that Brangane rather likes Markus. But I know that Markus likes me because he chased me all round the paths and when he caught me by the big fountain and the water was falling on me and soaking my clothes he pulled me away behind the hedge and touched me on my breast and kissed me on my cheek. He is rather nice. But I think he is not really for me. Not at all. And tonight, after we all took dinner with my parents in the Brenner along with all those old dinosaurs and their friends and listened to the quartet playing whatever they played he asked to dance with me. I could tell my father was pleased and so I did, because it’s sensible sometimes for a girl to keep her daddy happy I think, even if I didn’t really want to. Anyway, he really is a very very bad dancer. I can only hope his tennis is a bit better, or maybe he just isn’t a that good at moving at all. But now it’s night time, and I am in the room with my two girlfriends. It’s nice that they had a room with three beds I think. We’ve left the curtains open and the weather has changed, so every so often the window is blurred by a rain shower and then it clears and the moon shines brilliantly between the clouds and it lights up the whole room. Brangane is fast asleep. I’m not so sure about Tristana. I’m looking at the back of her head on her pillow. Her black black hair is unpinned and is lying all over the place and I just love the white of the nape of her neck and the shape of the back of her ears. I’d love to lie on her back. There’s something so sensual about the back of someone’s ears, don’t you think? They can’t blink or smile or move but I could look at her like that forever. I think you could too if you were here. Anyway… I know, I know… Anyway, I slip out of the cool cotton sheets. Can you blame me? I feel my feet rolling, toes first, slowly lowering my heels, over the cold wood floor. It can’t be more than five steps or seven. I can hear myself breathing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I ever so gently lift the corner of her cover. She’s so lovely in her nightdress. The moon’s shining on her and I think she couldn’t be more beautiful. I so much want to lie down next to her and let my little pink tongue touch her lovely ears. I really do. I hold the sheet to my nose and drain its scent. I am sure I can smell her. I want so much to remember that smell. And then? You probably think I slide in beside her but I don’t of course. I take those five or seven steps back to my bed, bury my head in my pillow and dream my wide-awake dream…
Lovely, so lovely.....amazing how you capture the moment, the lines about the neck and ears, the slipping across the room on bare feet, pulling back the sheets, smelling her scent...and the inevitable...retreat and dream. Exquisite writing PK...really well done.
...you came to see me last night but left...
Please don't do that again...
...I won't- I promise. Don't leave me here...
...I won't... maybe...
Tree
Please don't do that again...
...I won't- I promise. Don't leave me here...
...I won't... maybe...
Tree
P
Pia
Guest
Chapter 4
April has come and gone and the blossom-dripping branches have heralded the gentle days of May. In Munich an unknown Austrian painter rents a room in Schleißheimerstraße; in Straße des Friedens the tall garden windows are pulled wide open and a gentle breeze lifts a lock of Gisela’s hair. She raises a finger, pushing it away from her eye and carries on reading, quietly saying the words aloud:
“Wie sollich meine Selle halten, daß
Sie nicht an deine rührt?...”
“Gisela! It’s me!”
Brangane’s open smile appears at the open window, a flower casually plucked twirling in her hand.
“Gisela, let’s do something. I’m so bored. I’ve spent all morning on the piano and now I want to do something fun. Let’s…Oh what shall we do Gisela?”
“I don’t know. I mean, what is there to do? Coffee? Shopping? Maybe we could take a stroll. What do you want to do Brangane? We could just sit here and read and talk if you want, or…”
“It’s such a lovely day. Come on. Let’s take the tram into town. We’ll think of something. Come on. I’ll get your hat, alright?”
“Oh Brangane! Alright, let’s do something then, but I don’t want to go into town. Let’s go to the park, alright? It’s nearby and it’s lovely at this time of year. Come on, we’ll walk”
The girls walk across the green to Tettauastraße, keeping straight on along Espachstraße until they reach the main road leading to the Gera bridge. A few minutes later and the streets give way to the green of the Luisenpark. They pass without a glance the statue of the Prussian Queen and wander by the tree-shaded little river.
“Come on Brangane, let’s go to the water fountains. I always try to see if I can tell the difference between the three fountains. Come on, I’ll race you!”
Well, I get there first. I’m much faster than Brangane! I wait for her on the steps by the water fountains. The river is bubbling along next to me. It’s a really lovely day but no-one else seems to be about. Just us two. She’s here now, at last! To be honest the water tastes pretty disgusting. It’s supposed to be good for you. Why is it that so many things that are good for you are so foul? Anyway, it’s fun. Brangane’s wearing a really nice dress today. It’s so light and floaty and I love her hat. I put my thumb over the fountain and the water sprays out at her! Oh dear! I shouldn’t have done that! I’ve made her really wet!
“Sorry Brangane! I didn’t mean it to…”
“You did! I’m soaked! Why did you do that Gisela! Well, I can do it too you know!”
And now I’m at the receiving end and my hair is all wet and there’s water running down my nose! Oh we are silly! Still, it’s a warm day and now we’re even and Brangane’s laughing and so am I and we hug each other and climb the little set of stone steps back up to the path. We head off towards the little café by the Papierwehr. The sun’s strong and we’ll soon dry off.
“So Brangane… I think you liked Markus a bit didn’t you?”
“No….no…. not at all… not really….he likes you though, I can see that. He couldn’t take his eyes off you when we went to Das Paradies”
“Brangane! You really aren’t telling me the truth are you? I could see you! Anyway, I don’t care about him at all. You should write to him Brangane. He’s yours!”
“But… but I could tell… I mean your father…. I think he wants you to…”
“And so he may, but fathers don’t always understand their little girls do they? Anyway, I love someone else. So there. So he’s all yours Brangane. I’m sure he’ll fall for you!”
“Don’t be silly. Well…. I do sort of like him I suppose. I could write to him, couldn’t I? But what about you? Who are you in love with Gisela? Not still that Meyer?”
“Meyer! Really, how could you think that Brangane! No not him at all. Not in the slightest. Can’t you guess? I really think you should guess. You must know!”
“That, hmm, what was he called? Oh, I can’t remember. That other boy. You know…”
“You aren’t even warm….Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? Guess! I want you to guess!”
“No…no… I mean it’s not possible is it? Gisela, you can’t! You mean Tristana don’t you? You can’t Gisela! I mean I know she’s gorgeous but… but….”
“She’s a girl. I know. And so am I and I can and I do”
“Gisela! You just can’t!”
“Brangane, I can. Oh, I don’t know, but it feels so special being with her. I mean, what’s love meant to feel like? Is it meant to feel like an ache or a pain or a dizziness or like when I see her and my whole body feels like its exploding? I don’t know. I don’t. But I want to be close to her all the time. And she’s so far away now she’s back in Berlin. You do understand me, don’t you?”
“I… I’m not sure… I’m really not sure Gisela…”
“Well… it has to be our secret. Alright? And I’ll keep your secret about Markus. Right? Come on, give me a kiss and we’ll promise. Come on.”
P
Pia
Guest
I think I should buy and read....It's remembering to me some descriptions of "Thérèse et Isabelle" by Violette LEDUC , and I like ...
messaline
Crucified Amazon
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Yes! It does sound a little like that, Messa!It's remembering to me some descriptions of "Thérèse et Isabelle" by Violette LEDUC , and I like ...
P
Pia
Guest
Sunday 1st June 1913
Dearest Tristana,
So, it won’t be long before we’re together again will it? My father and your father seem pretty convinced that I’m going to fall in love with Markus, but they don’t know anything do they? And …. Well, it’s a secret but I think I can share this one… Brangane really, really likes him! Oh dear! What is to be done!
Anyway, father’s renting a villa somewhere near yours in Zoppot or Sopot or whatever its called. I’ve never been to the Baltic, so that’s exciting. I think he might have taken us to Venice though, don’t you? But I suppose we just had to go where the family Topf go and you always go to the Baltic so there we are! Anyway, just a few weeks and we’ll be together and I’m as ever, totally excited!
I’m sorry though that we’ll miss all the fun in Berlin. The Anniversary should be amazing. I imagine your looking forward to all the parades and fireworks and everything aren’t you? I’ll be thinking of you and you must write to me about everything, promise?
And. And what, you ask? And I told Brangane. Well, she guessed, more or less. So she knows about us now and she is sworn to secrecy on her oath. So she will be our little go-between beside the sea.
I miss you so much Tristana. You know that, don’t you?
What will become of us? We are so like Romeo and Juliet aren’t we, except of course that our families are friends and we are both girls, but I think you know what I mean! Isn’t it exciting?
So, think of me in my boring little town reading my books and moaping by my little river while you are enjoying the great city and don’t forget about me will you? Don’t desert me for a pretty Prussian blonde or an officer in his uniform or whatever! I am trusting you to be true and I know you will be! And it won’t be long, but for me every single day is too long. And now I will rush off to the postman and send this flying to you far away in the North!
All my secret kisses!
Your very own and only Gisela.
Dearest Tristana,
So, it won’t be long before we’re together again will it? My father and your father seem pretty convinced that I’m going to fall in love with Markus, but they don’t know anything do they? And …. Well, it’s a secret but I think I can share this one… Brangane really, really likes him! Oh dear! What is to be done!
Anyway, father’s renting a villa somewhere near yours in Zoppot or Sopot or whatever its called. I’ve never been to the Baltic, so that’s exciting. I think he might have taken us to Venice though, don’t you? But I suppose we just had to go where the family Topf go and you always go to the Baltic so there we are! Anyway, just a few weeks and we’ll be together and I’m as ever, totally excited!
I’m sorry though that we’ll miss all the fun in Berlin. The Anniversary should be amazing. I imagine your looking forward to all the parades and fireworks and everything aren’t you? I’ll be thinking of you and you must write to me about everything, promise?
And. And what, you ask? And I told Brangane. Well, she guessed, more or less. So she knows about us now and she is sworn to secrecy on her oath. So she will be our little go-between beside the sea.
I miss you so much Tristana. You know that, don’t you?
What will become of us? We are so like Romeo and Juliet aren’t we, except of course that our families are friends and we are both girls, but I think you know what I mean! Isn’t it exciting?
So, think of me in my boring little town reading my books and moaping by my little river while you are enjoying the great city and don’t forget about me will you? Don’t desert me for a pretty Prussian blonde or an officer in his uniform or whatever! I am trusting you to be true and I know you will be! And it won’t be long, but for me every single day is too long. And now I will rush off to the postman and send this flying to you far away in the North!
All my secret kisses!
Your very own and only Gisela.
P
Pia
Guest
Chapter 5
The two girls skip excitedly as the porters haul their baggage trolley through the red-brick arch and into the great glass-roofed hall of the Hauptbanhof, bright ribbons holding their hats on their pinned-up hair. Dr Rohkrämer whispers a few last words into Gisela’s ear, bends for his kiss and helps her up into the carriage. The station is a swirl of activity, passengers rushing to catch their trains, officials with their flags and whistles, everywhere the hiss of the engines and the warm damp smell of steam and coal smoke. The guard shows them to their compartment, checking their names against the bill posted on the corridor window. Brangane pulls down the thick leather strap and lets the window fall open, securing it on the tiny brass stud. They lean out and stare up and down the length of the train, watching the great clock as its minute hand slowly moves towards the hour. Gisela waves to her father who raises his hat and blows a kiss, and then, with a great jolt and the howl of steel wheels against the tracks, they are moving. Slowly at first, clanging and ringing and screeching over tracks and points, the smoke pushing down over the carriage and through the window, the train pulls through the arch of the engine shed, then faster and faster traverses the northern suburbs of the city. They lean at the window for a while, staring at the mean homes huddled by the tracks, holding tight to each others hands as the wind blows around them. Then, tiring of the speeding view, Gisela pulls the window back up and settles down into the deep leather seat, unties the ribbon and places the hat beside her.
Two hours and they’re rattling over the Saale; they’ve moved to the dining car where fresh fish is served. Gisela reaches for the salt as Halle comes into view, glasses clinking as the train slows and comes to a brief halt, before it gasps and claws its way forward, changing sky and land, Saxony’s Elbe giving way to the meadows and streams of Brandenburg. And soon fields and lakes are exchanged for bustling streets and domes and spires as Berlin swallows the silver track in a summer rainstorm.
All is bustle as bags are pulled from racks and tickets are checked and rechecked. They feel like lost islands in noise and tumult of the great station but are quickly shown to their connection and their new seats and within half an hour they are headed east, through Prussian fields to their next change where the rail crosses the Warthe and the steam hisses a welcome to Posen. They’re used to things now. Quickly up, porters organised and a brief wait before the next carriage is ready. The afternoon sun is still high as the engine’s whistle signals the final stage, north to the Baltic. Danzig’s Hanseatic towers dark in the pink-blue sky. And as the sun finally casts its summery shadows over Pomerania’s flat fields and silent stands of birch, they are slowing and pulling into the little station of Zoppot.
"Danzig’s Hanseatic towers dark in the pink-blue sky. And as the sun finally casts its summery shadows over Pomerania’s flat fields and silent stands of birch, they are slowing and pulling into the little station of Zoppot."
Zoppot and Danzig's Hanseatic towers .... I just love the setting..... ahh the Baltic!
P
Pia
Guest
And I’m exhausted! What a long journey that was, but we had fun. It was nice to spend so much time with Brangane. We had a lot to talk about and lots of plans to make and I’m very excited about the next week. Well, you see, it will be just us girls, the three of us, oh, and Markus of course. My father can’t come for another week because of “business” and Mr Topf is away as well. What busy lives they lead, but it’s good luck for us I think. Tristana’s family own their villa, I imagine it's very grand, but we’ve rented one. It’s a small town so they can’t be far apart. Anyway, for the first week I imagine we’ll be looked after by Tristana and Markus. And the weather forecast is really nice too. It’s been such a wet summer so far I think we are really lucky. Well, here we are at the station, sitting on our luggage and waiting for the driver. He should be here in a few minutes. Then we’ll be off to the villa and I’m going to go straight to bed. I’m looking forward to breakfast tomorrow and seeing Tristana again. It’s going to be a really good week, I’m sure. And now that Brangane is in on our little secret she can act as our go-between. She won’t mind as long as she gets to spend some time with Markus. Markus. Oh dear, I know our fathers still have that plan for me and Markus and he seems rather set on it too. Oh well, I’ll just have to persuade him that Brangane is a much better choice for him I think!
amazing PK how you capture the breathless wonder and excitement with which your character would have spoken in this period....it rings so true....the innocence and optimism of German middle-class outlook and mentality of the times .... masterful writing!!!!
