Sufferance, page 11
She hung her head and said sullenly: I didn’t.
I said: There’s no point lying. I saw you tear it up.
She said: I kept the part I wanted.
I didn’t know what to make of that. My wife was sure she had seen the remnants of the whole family group: herself, her parents, and her brother.
A couple of days later my younger daughter was looking for something on the mantelpiece of the living-room when she found the brooch. My elder daughter insisted that she had not put it there and so would not apologise to the girl for her suspicions. The girl must have put it there herself, my daughter insisted, having realised that her theft had been found out. However, I remembered that my daughter did sometimes leave pieces of jewellery there, and I was pretty sure that she had done so and then forgotten it.
* * *
A few weeks after our conversation about the ‘client’ with the certified deposit, my so-called friend was promoted by the director to be deputy head of one of the other sections and moved into another office.
Though I was sorry he had been elevated above me, I was not unhappy to see him go. I was pretty sure it was his reward for incriminating our head. He himself was now safe from that man’s vengeance, but I was not. Moreover, I was also in trouble with the director, who probably knew that I had failed to report the malfeasance. I couldn’t stop myself speculating about my ‘friend’s’ motives in advising me to try to blackmail the head. I now suspected he had urged me to do that in the knowledge that it would have ended in the unmasking of both the head and myself.
* * *
I managed to get to the girl’s house on just a single Tuesday during this period, and once I was inside, the servant made no objection to my looking round. (I believe she realised that I would have made trouble for her if she had refused to let me inspect the house.) I went upstairs and verified that the safe was still intact. I came down and, before the servant realised I was there, had time to look at the opened bills that the girl had left. Apart from items like rates, electricity, and insurance I saw that some of the leading commercial figures in the father’s community had made him very considerable loans that they were now calling in. The collateral he had given them appeared to be shares in the store. Before I could work out the details, the servant came back and I had to break off.
There were no letters or telegrams and, as always, the servant told me that she had heard nothing from the rest of the girl’s family.
Discussing that fact later that day, my wife and I deplored the off-handedness of the girl’s parents in not bothering to ensure the welfare of their daughter. In spite of the difficulties, they should have found a way to establish contact. We could not imagine being so negligent towards one of our children. Their lack of concern had presented us with a dilemma: what to do about the registration of the girl now that, as she kept reminding us, her fourteenth birthday was imminent. We decided to do nothing since our interpretation of the regulation suggested she did not need to register given that she had been under fourteen on the date when the requirement was announced. She fell into the category of young persons the date of whose compulsory registration would be given out in due course.
The reason why the girl kept talking of her imminent birthday had nothing to do with that regulation. She was dropping hints about the kind of birthday she wanted, and as far as we were able to, we made preparations for it. By now the prices of many foodstuffs were ridiculously high but I had saved some of my own coupons and had put aside some cash, and my wife sought out some bargains. We knew how important birthdays were to children of that age, and we were determined to do the best for her that circumstances permitted. I scrimped and saved, and by cutting out lunch two days a week, I managed to set aside enough coupons to buy the ingredients of a small cake.
I could not help reflecting that although the girl and I had brought plenty of valuable artefacts home, there were still many remaining in the house. Moreover, there was the safe, and if only I could gain access to it, I could use the cash, gold, and bonds that it presumably contained to pay myself back for the girl’s upkeep and set aside some money to find alternative shelter for her. I thought how grateful the girl’s father would be if I managed to rescue his portable assets.
* * *
The girl’s birthday came and we celebrated the day as best we could given our reduced circumstances and the shortages imposed by rationing. I think we all managed to conceal our negative feelings about her. My wife made the cake, and we all gave her little presents.
It was obvious, however, that she was disappointed by our efforts. At the end of the day she thanked my wife and myself in a very small voice and without meeting our gaze.
* * *
Ironically, the girl had a sort of belated birthday present from the authorities, for on the very next day it was announced on the wireless that the Enemy had ‘magnanimously’ decreed that the Western Zone was being annexed as part of its own territory. That decision entailed that everyone in the Western Zone at the time of its creation would henceforth enjoy full rights of citizenship provided they met the qualifying criteria. I told the girl it meant her parents and younger brother were safe. I remember that her eyes filled with tears and she came over and gave me a fierce hug.
The Eastern Zone was now all that remained of our poor nation—though as if in mockery it continued to bear the ancient name of the whole country—and it was announced on that day that our city had been designated the new capital since the old one was now inside the territory of the Enemy.
We were cut off from our relatives there and, naturally, our annual visit was out of the question.
* * *
The following Wednesday, we were listening to the nine o’clock news when it was announced that all prisoners-of-war who were citizens of our country would be released and allowed to go home. The girl jumped up clapping her hands and skipped round the room in delight. Her brother would soon be back! She wanted to go to the house in a few days and said she expected to find him waiting for her. Then she shook her head and said wryly: What a shame he just missed my birthday.
We were all delighted as well. It meant she would soon be leaving us.
* * *
A couple of days later I was walking towards my office after lunch when the director’s office-manager—a man to whom I had hardly ever spoken—came alongside me and started chatting about a certain violin-teacher whom I knew. He was a member of the girl’s community and, until a few years ago, had taught my elder daughter for a couple of years. As we talked, the office-manager steered me into his office, which was just outside that of the director. The director himself came in and the manager said to him: We were just talking about someone I believe you know, sir. I learned that the violin-teacher had, until the recent decree banning him from working outside his own community, been giving the director’s son lessons.
The director talked of how he was worried about him. He was, of course, no longer able to earn his living by teaching, and with four children and a wife to support, his plight was fairly desperate.
And yet, the manager put in thoughtfully, he should be all right because his brother-in-law owns a furniture factory in the Old City. He mentioned the man’s name, and I remarked that he happened to be a ‘client’ of mine.
The conversation ended and I went back to work. I would have forgotten about it if it had not had such important consequences.
* * *
Now that I had begun to wonder if the girl’s father really was as wealthy as he appeared, I was desperately anxious to know if his name was on the list being worked on by my head or his deputy. If it was not, then it was likely that he had slipped through the net, and that would be a huge relief because it meant he would not be investigated and the girl’s whereabouts would not become an issue for the authorities. He might be merely the nominal owner of the store or have only a small share in it. And the fact he was being dunned for large sums of money certainly did not of itself mean he was bankrupt.
My colleagues and I had almost finished working through the list of the ‘protected community’s’ richest one hundred and fifty businessmen and would soon embark on the next batch of returns which had been piling up. The threshold had been lowered to the point where there were more than two thousand for us to process, but we would not need to be as thorough in these new cases, of course, since the assets would be fewer and less complex.
In the hope that I might be able to seize the chance to look at the lists being worked on by my head or his deputy, I was keeping a careful watch on their movements in order to spot an opportunity to go into their offices.
* * *
A few days after that, the director’s office-manager accosted me in the street as I was leaving the building at the end of the day. He said he wanted to have a little chat with me in private and led me to a bar in a back-street that I had never visited. When we were sitting with a drink in front of us, he told me that there was a complication relating to one of my ‘clients’. It was the owner of the furniture-factory whom we had mentioned the other day because he was the brother-in-law of the violin-teacher whom the director and I both knew. I told him I had just sent his completed accounts to the director to be signed off.
He nodded and to my surprise produced my set of accounts from his briefcase. It consisted of four pages and the last one had been signed by the director.
The manager pointed out the second page which listed transactions relating to one of the ‘client’s’ bank accounts and indicated one item. It was the recent transfer of quite a large sum into another account. I had recorded the name and account-number of the recipient, and it would have been the responsibility of one of my colleagues to track it in relation to that individual’s accounts.
That, he told me, is an account controlled by the violin-teacher, although the name is not his. His brother-in-law was helping him financially but as you see, the transfer was made several months after the cut-off date before which such transactions need not be traced. The director would like you to remove that page and re-type it, changing the date of that transfer to a date prior to the cut-off point. He wants this act of generosity towards a struggling family-man to stand. Otherwise, as you know, the money will be confiscated.
This was an astonishing suggestion. If it were ever detected, I would be in serious trouble. I pointed out that the carbon copy kept by my head of section in his files would show the truth, and he assured me that nobody would ever have any reason to look at it.
He said: The director will be anxious to show his gratitude towards you.
I took that as a hint that I, too, might be promoted to be the head of a section. In that case I would have nothing to fear from my present head.
I agreed to do it. Two days later I handed the manager the revised set of accounts.
* * *
No sooner had we dealt with one birthday than the next was upon us, for my younger daughter’s fourteenth birthday was now only a few weeks away and despite the circumstances, my wife and I were determined to make it a fittingly memorable occasion.
It was now that it became impossible to blind myself to the fact that my younger daughter was behaving uncharacteristically. She indulged in tantrums and started answering back in a manner she had never shown before. The wartime conditions obviously played a role in that, but it was also a reaction to the presence of the girl and the way she was holding the family in thrall. My wife now resented her so much that she could hardly bring herself to put food in front of her.
I was therefore not completely surprised when my wife told me a few days later that she wanted to take our younger daughter to a remote village a day’s journey away where old family friends of hers lived. She and our child would stay there until the girl had left the apartment. I pointed out that we could not afford it and that there were now severe restrictions on travel and change of residence. What would they do there? How could I send them money? How would our daughter be educated? I could not bear the thought of their going away on such terms. If I had sent them away to safety because of the political situation, I could have endured it, but if they left now, it would be because they believed—or my wife at least believed—that I had put them in danger and somewhere else would be safer.
Eventually she realised I was right and abandoned the project.
* * *
After a few days, our prisoners-of-war started arriving in the city—gaunt young men still in their uniforms which were often torn and blood-stained. The son of the tailor’s family on our second floor was one of them, and there was an impromptu party on the stairs to welcome him home—which none of our household attended because I had decided we should keep to ourselves as far as possible.
The girl kept pestering me to let her go to the house and see if her brother was there or had left a message with neighbours. I wasn’t prepared to take her, but I did continue to pass the house every few days and noticed no sign that anything had changed.
* * *
All this time the girl’s behaviour was becoming more and more unacceptable. She was refusing to take part in the preparations for my daughter’s birthday and would even leave the room if that subject was being discussed. It was clear to all of us that her envy of my daughter and resentment that her birthday was being taken so much more seriously than hers, were too strong to control.
It was on the day of my daughter’s birthday that something happened at work which was potentially very serious for me.
That afternoon I waited until everyone had left our complex of offices. Then I went into the room next door which was used by the deputy. I located the file that I wanted which I hoped would tell me how rich the girl’s father was and ideally where he and his wife were. To my dismay I found inside the file a sealed envelope labelled ‘list No. 5 of individuals with assets above the limit’. I would have to open it and that would be difficult to conceal. I found a letter-opener and began to cut it in such way that I would be able to seal it again without it being too obvious.
I had examined nearly the whole document without finding the name I was looking for and was holding the paper in my hands when the deputy walked into the room. He had forgotten his cigarette-lighter and come back for it. I had been so intent on my task that I had not heard him.
He demanded to know why I was in his office and what I wanted with that document. Why had I committed what he called the ‘outrageous’ act of opening a sealed envelope?
I blustered and told him I wanted to cross check one of my ‘clients’ with one of his who was my man’s nephew. Foolishly, I hadn’t properly prepared such an excuse and I stumbled and failed to produce appropriate names and I could see that he didn’t believe me.
He reached for the telephone and summoned the head. We didn’t speak until he came into the room.
He heard my stumbling explanation and just said: There’ll be consequences. He jerked his head to indicate that I should leave.
I guessed that they were making the assumption that I was trying to find a way to steal money. I wondered if I could think of something that would mislead them into believing that but without putting myself in jeopardy. I failed.
Worryingly, the girl’s father appeared on none of the four lists I had seen. Of course, I had not seen Lists 4 and 6 or the whole of List 5.
* * *
I had an anxious evening but had to conceal my emotions because of the birthday celebrations. I had decided to tell my wife nothing since there was no point in worrying her when it might turn out not to be necessary. It was frustrating that I had not quite reached the end of the list when I had been interrupted. The name might be on it or on the list held by the head, but there was no possibility I would be able to find out now.
My elder daughter had made a new party-dress as a gift for her sister, and my wife had bought a fine piece of costume-jewellery that looked more expensive than it was and went well with the new dress. The sour note was the sulky, ungracious attitude of the girl, who made it clear she resented everything being done for the benefit of the birthday girl. She had given her nothing, which was forgivable given the circumstances, but I could see my daughter was upset.
Unfortunately my wife commented on that and the girl said: I didn’t need to make her a gift. You all saved your coupons for her for months. She’s being given everything. A thousand times more than you gave me.
She ran out of the room. We all stared at each other in despair. I didn’t think we could bear her tempers and tantrums much longer.
* * *
The next morning I was summoned by the head and found his deputy sitting beside him. I had had time to elaborate an explanation that I hoped might be convincing, and said I was afraid there might be some duplication so that the same name appeared on his list as well as mine, and I had merely been checking that. The head brushed that aside and made it plain he thought I was trying to skim some of the assets I was investigating—perhaps by taking a bribe to turn a blind eye to something I had discovered. I was pretty sure that was precisely what he and his deputy had been doing themselves.
He told me he was not going to institute dismissal proceedings but would send me a written warning about the matter which would be copied to our superiors, and if I ever stepped out of line again, I would at best find myself looking for another post.
