Helene tried to understand what was making him so angry. She must be brave and ask. Why…?
This is monstrous, don’t you know that? Wilhelm interrupted her. He wasn’t going to let her begin a sentence, raise her voice however hesitantly. What do you want of me, Helene? He was roaring at her, barking at her.
Was it the first time he had called her Helene? Her name sounded like a foreign word, coming from him. The displeasure with which he looked at her now made Helene feel very lonely. She lay in his marital bed, the blanket up to her chin, her fingers curved into cold claws under the bedclothes, claws that she couldn’t open out even if she tried, she had to keep the covers firmly in place, hiding them, hiding her body from him. The burning between her legs wasn’t too bad, she was in his marital bed, the bed he had bought for his marriage to a virgin, the bed in which he was planning to teach a virgin about love. What had he thought she was? What misunderstanding had brought them together in this bed?
Wilhelm got up. He took his blanket, draped it round his shoulders and left the room. He shut the door behind him; evidently she was to stay there. Helene tried to think sensibly. It wasn’t easy. Frau Alice Sehmisch, she said to herself in the darkness. Her feet were as cold as her claws, they were claws too, fingers and toes cold and claw-like in May.
When all was still Helene stole into the kitchen, washed her hands, put water on to heat and mixed hot and cold water with a dash of vinegar in the enamel basin. She squatted over the basin and washed herself. A little soap wouldn’t hurt, maybe a bit of iodine? With the hollow of her hand she scooped up water and felt for her labia, the opening, the tender, smooth folds, washed it all out thoroughly, washed his sperm out of her. Soft water, hard water. She washed for a long time until the water was cold, then she washed her hands at the sink.
Back in bed, her feet were still cold. She couldn’t sleep anyway, she felt like getting up and making breakfast. She had bought eggs — Wilhelm liked eggs so long as they weren’t too soft-boiled. Would he speak to her? What would he say?
For that first half-hour, in which Wilhelm had got up, washed, shaved and combed his hair, it looked as if he wasn’t going to speak to her, might never speak to her again. Helene thought about the notes she would write him in future, the notes he would write her. She could practise the language of gestures. He would write notes telling her what she was to do for him and what he wanted for supper. She would write to explain why she hadn’t bought eels and tell him the fishwife had plaice on special offer today. Helene was good at keeping silent, as he would soon find out.
Wilhelm had sat down at the table to try a sip of coffee. Is this real coffee? he suddenly asked. She knew there were few things he liked as much as coffee made from real coffee beans. Real coffee came directly after cars and before the wireless masts of ships, but she was a little uncertain where oarsmen and ski-jumpers ranked in his esteem.
In celebration of the day, I thought. The first morning of our marriage.
Good idea, he said, nodding with a fair show of appreciation; then he had to smile. He was smiling to himself, he didn’t look at her.
And is that toast I smell, or am I imagining it?
You’re not imagining it, said Helene, and she took a step aside, opened the toaster and gave him the dark-brown toast.
Perhaps you’ll sit down too.
Helene obeyed. She pulled out her chair and sat down opposite him.
Well, this is a fine situation I’ve got myself into, remarked Wilhelm. Talk about buying a pig in a poke. He shook his head. No idea of honour. And I’ve sullied my hands for that, forged those damn documents to give you a new identity. Wilhelm shook his head and took a bite of toast.
Helene began to guess at the humiliation he must be suffering.
We will try, all the same. Helene said it hoping that the question of her virginity might soon seem ridiculous to him.
Wilhelm nodded. I am not going to be cuckolded, let’s get that clear. He held out his cup for her to add milk.
Wilhelm had got the papers for her, he had committed a punishable offence. They could feel mutual fear, for either would be able to denounce the other. For the first time Helene understood what fundamentally divided the two of them. He was an established member of society, he was someone, he had built up a reputation for himself. Wilhelm had something to lose: his good name, his honour and his wife’s respectability were certainly a part of that; so were his beliefs, his support of a people, the German nation, to which he belonged by virtue of his blood and which he wanted to serve with his life’s blood.
We could go out to Swinemünde tomorrow. Helene embarked on the sentence out of sheer fear that otherwise Wilhelm might understand what thoughts were spreading through her mind, how terror and shame were taking hold of her.
Do me a favour, Alice, spare me that today. I know you love the sea and the harbour. Are you telling me the round trip yesterday wasn’t enough?
It was not an easy night, said Helene. She wanted to show understanding.
It’s forgotten. Last night is forgotten, do you hear? Wilhelm was fighting to speak in a firm voice and Helene saw tears in his eyes. She was sorry. I didn’t know that…
That what? What didn’t you know?
Helene couldn’t tell him. She was ashamed of her thoughtlessness. Not for a moment had it occurred to her that his love could depend on her virginity.
I’ve been with women. But marriage — Wilhelm shook his head, without looking at Helene — marriage is different. He bit his lip; he probably guessed that they would never be able to agree on this point, now or later. There were moments last night when you were like an animal, a wild cat.
A tear fell from his eye. The eye of a man whom Helene had never seen shedding tears before.
She would have liked to embrace him, but what comfort could she offer?
Have you been with many men? Now Wilhelm was looking at her scornfully; it was hard to bear his glance. Then it softened, she saw a plea in his eyes, he obviously wanted her to tell him he was unique, oh, what an amazing lover, not just an amazing lover but the lover, there was no one like him.
Helene stretched her fingers, curved them, stretched them. Her knuckles inaudibly cracked. She wanted to wash her hands. What difference did lying a little make? She looked at him over the table, she still had time. It was simple. He wouldn’t notice. She shook her head and closed her eyes. When she cautiously opened them again, she saw that he wanted to believe her.
Wilhelm stood up. He was wearing the shirt she had ironed so recently. He looked ready to go to work. He touched her shoulder, grateful and angry at the same time. He breathed deeply in and out, then patted her on the back. That’s my girl. He looked at the time. I have to go out to the building site, the construction workers all slack off at the weekend. There’s going to be a private discussion. If you wait in the car you can come with me.
Helene nodded. Wilhelm took her wrist. But first we’re going to bed. There was an expression of triumph on his face. Was what she saw in his eyes the consciousness of arbitrary power springing from his injured feelings? Defiance and lust? And didn’t a husband have rights over his wife? He pushed her into the bedroom ahead of him, drew the curtains, opened his trousers with one hand and reached for her skirt with the other. Lift your skirt, he said.
Helene lifted her skirt, which wasn’t easy. She’d made it herself from a pattern only a few weeks ago, and it narrowed towards the hem and had only a short open pleat at the back. She had found a lovely fabric, cream cotton printed with blue flowers. It was a daring skirt, tapering where it ended between calf and ankle. Wilhelm became impatient, he was breathing deeply. She’d soon have done it, she’d have pushed the skirt far enough up. She couldn’t help thinking that the laundry had been soaking for too long, that she still had to gut the fish for lunch and must soon put the casserole on if they wanted beans for supper, and she didn’t have any savoury to flavour the beans with. Wilhelm told her to kneel on the bed.