“Why do you always assume there’s a man behind everything?” Marlene exhaled and observed the white vapor coming from her mouth rising up into the air. The harsh cold seeped through her thin coat and she eyed Bruni’s fur coat with envy.
“Because of the scarlet flash on your face, maybe?” Bruni laughed. Thankfully they soon arrived at the cabaret and the bouncer let them inside into the warmth. Most people heated their apartments sparsely, but since the nightclub catered primarily to Allied soldiers, it never suffered from a shortage of coal.
Marlene followed her friend to the tiny dressing room filled with glamorous gowns, feather boas, hats, and dozens of cosmetic products. Never short of extravagances, Bruni opened a bottle of fine wine and poured both of them a glass, before she seated herself in front of the oversized, lit-up mirror.
“Spill the beans,” Bruni demanded, scrutinizing her friend’s face in the mirror as she outlined her perfect mouth with a deep red lipstick.
Marlene took a deep breath, wondering whether it had been a mistake to come for advice. She already knew what Bruni would say. “It’s about Werner Böhm.”
“ The Werner Böhm?” Bruni’s eyes widened and she took a sip of the dark red wine, leaving a mark of her equally dark red lipstick on the glass.
“Yes, him, one of the Gentner group.” Suddenly aware that Böhm was one of the ten most powerful Germans in Berlin, she shuddered. She was way in over her head. No, no, and no. Even indulging the idea of a romantic relationship with him was out of the question.
“He’s quite the handsome chap,” Bruni said.
“Right? And he’s so much more impressive in real life than in the newspapers.” Marlene couldn’t stop babbling. “He’s a true gentleman with perfect manners. His presence is so… so… overwhelming and his charming smile. Oh, but… his voice! You have to hear his voice. It’s nothing like on the radio, it draws you right in like some magnetic force.”
“Dear God! You have it bad for him,” Bruni said and twirled around on her stool to look directly into Marlene’s eyes.
“I don’t,” Marlene weakly protested.
Bruni took no notice and said, “So, now you’re asking for my advice on how to attract his attention, right?”
“Not at all.” Marlene forcefully shook her head, her brown wavy hair swooshing around. “I’d rather know how to dodge his attraction.”
“You what?” Bruni set down her glass, giving her friend a stern look. “You come here to tell me the most coveted civilian bachelor in all of Berlin has the hots for you and want me to tell you how to get rid of him? Is that right?”
“Hmm… yes. Or maybe not… I mean… I…” Marlene sighed. “He wants me to enroll in law school and has personally invited me to the interview. I guess I wanted to know whether this was a good idea or not.”
“You must be kidding me. Every other girl would kill for his attention and you’re asking me whether this is a good idea.”
“I’m not every other girl.” Marlene itched to leave this place. It definitely had been a mistake to ask for Bruni’s advice. But her friend was in her element and started a long monologue about the benefits of having a protector in these dire times.
“Having a man like Werner Böhm fancy you is the best thing that could happen to you. Don’t you see this? He’s handsome, charming, decent. Böhm is just the sort of chap to attract. Being the object of his desires is like winning a lottery. That man can help you in all manner of ways. He can get you things nobody else in Berlin has. Go for it, I say!”
“Oh, Bruni, it’s not about things.”
“It is. We all want to survive and for that we need things: food, warm clothes, a roof above our heads. Add to that an accomplished man in your bed and what more could you ask for?” Bruni turned back toward the mirror and put blue eyeshadow on her lids.
“Love?” A nostalgic emotion surged in Marlene, as she remembered the sweet first love with her late fiancé. A pure and warm feeling, that had nothing to do with material benefits.
“Love is overrated,” Bruni scoffed. “Men are inherently disloyal and selfish. You take from them whatever you can get and when they inevitably tire of you, you move on to the next one. That’s how life really is. Love is just a ruse the Nazis invented to make you produce dozens of little crying babies for the Führer.”
Marlene felt sorry for her friend who’d never experienced true love in her life. Not from her estranged parents and certainly not from one of her lovers. But it wouldn’t do good to launch into an argument about love right now. “Böhm’s a communist, a career politician. He has a dark side to him. Remember I told you how our hospital was emptied? It was him who did this.”
“All men have different facets to their characters.” Bruni looked at her handiwork in the mirror, pouting her lips to see the effect. “So do women, for that matter. Böhm is interested, you have a chance at getting a degree, if you don’t take full advantage of this deal, you’re an idiot.”
“Ouch! Is this the best advice you can give me?” Marlene was on the verge of tears.
“Yes,” Bruni said drily, refilling their glasses with the rest of the Pinot Noir. “If you don’t take it, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”
“I don’t know…” Marlene said dolefully.
“I think you do know, Marlene,” Bruni replied pointedly. “The fact that you have come to me for advice and not to Zara clearly shows what you wanted to hear.”
On the day of her interview Marlene dressed carefully, wearing her best dress and even using a bit of make-up, which she’d borrowed from Bruni. Happiness gave her an added sparkle and she arrived at the university, her completed application forms pressed to her chest.
Frau Busch, Böhm’s secretary took them and asked her to wait in the hallway outside until one of the law professors would become available. The words took a load off her mind and she scolded herself for reading too much into Böhm’s charming smile. But at once a confusing twinge of disappointment seared through her. It’s not that she wanted him to fancy her. Hell, she certainly didn’t fancy him.
When Frau Busch returned to call her inside, she said, “Herr Böhm will personally conduct your interview.”
Emotions surged through her veins and she could only give a faint nod. What on earth had led him to change the standard process and attend to her himself? She frantically searched for a mouse hole to disappear into, but of course, this was impossible. Steeling her spine, she plastered a smile on her face and entered the office.
“Ah, good morning Fräulein Kupfer,” he said. brightly. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on revising your application personally.” Then he explained to a rail-thin man with completely white hair sitting at the side of the desk, “Professor Klein, this is Marlene Kupfer, a very promising student. She was recommended by Georg Tauber, the chair of our student board.”
Professor Klein removed the glasses he’d been using to read her application form and observed her with a piercing glance. Despite the friendly expression on his face, Marlene felt intimidated. Professor Klein was one of the most distinguished law experts in all of Germany and even the Nazis hadn’t dared to touch him, albeit after having advised him to stay out of politics.
She had somehow expected to be asked about her legal background and any prior experience in the field that might qualify her to become a law student, but instead the professor asked question after question about the professions and political opinions of her family and herself.
Her answers were as stereotypical as the scripted questions. “Yes professor, I was a member of the BDM, the German Girls Union,” and, “No professor, I wasn’t an NSDAP party member. No, I’m not a member of a church nor of a political party.”