*
Lili was at home in Berlin-Mitte one afternoon when her niece, Alice, came, in a rainstorm, to borrow books. Alice had been refused admission to university, despite her outstanding grades, because of her mother's underground career as a protest singer. However, Alice was determined to educate herself, so she was studying English in the evenings after she finished her shift at the factory. Carla had a small collection of English-language novels inherited from Grandmother Maud. Lili happened to be at home when Alice called, and they went upstairs to the drawing room and looked through the books together while the rain drummed on the windows. They were old editions, prewar, Lili guessed. Alice picked out a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. She would be the fourth generation to read them, Lili calculated.
Alice said: "We've applied for permission to go to West Germany." She was all youthful eagerness.
"We?" Lili asked.
"Helmut and I."
Helmut Kappel was her boyfriend. He was a year older, twenty-two, and studying at university.
"Any special reason?"
"I've said we want to visit my father in Hamburg. Helmut's grandparents are in Frankfurt. But Plum Nellie are doing a world tour, and we really want to see my father onstage. Maybe we can time our visit to coincide with his German gig, if he does one."
"I'm sure he will
."
"Do you think they'll let us go?"
"You may be lucky." Lili did not want to discourage youthful optimism, but she was doubtful. She herself had always been refused permission. Very few people were allowed to go. The authorities would suspect that people as young as Alice and Helmut did not intend to come back.
Lili suspected it herself. Alice had often talked wistfully of living in West Germany. Like most young people, she wanted to read uncensored books and newspapers, see new films and plays, and listen to music regardless of whether it was approved by the seventy-two-year-old Erich Honecker. If she managed to get out of East Germany, why would she come back?
Alice said: "You know, most of the things that got this family into bad odor with the authorities actually happened before I was born. They shouldn't be punishing me."
But her mother, Karolin, was still singing those songs, Lili thought.
The doorbell sounded, and a minute later they heard agitated voices in the hall. They went downstairs to investigate, and found Karolin standing there in a wet raincoat. Inexplicably, she was carrying a suitcase. She had been let in by Carla, who stood beside her in the hall, wearing an apron over her formal work clothes.
Karolin's face was red and puffy with crying.
Alice said: "Mother . . . ?"
Lili said: "Has something happened?"
Karolin said: "Alice, your stepfather has left me."
Lili was flabbergasted. Odo Vossler? It was surprising to her that mild Odo had the guts to leave his wife.
Alice put her arms around her mother, saying nothing.
Carla said: "When did this happen?"
Karolin wiped her nose with a handkerchief. "He told me three hours ago. He wants a divorce."
Lili thought: Poor Alice, left by two fathers.
Carla said indignantly: "But pastors are not supposed to get divorced."
"He's leaving the clergy, too."
"Good grief."
Lili realized that an earthquake had struck the family.
Carla became practical. "You'd better sit down. We'll go in the kitchen. Alice, take your mother's coat and hang it up to dry. Lili, make coffee."