Far to Go - By Alison Pick Page 0,23

trying to put it delicately. “Are you okay, Mrs. Bauer?”

Anneliese got out her compact and rouged her cheeks, looking at Marta slantwise. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She snapped the compact closed and reached for her cigarettes.

Marta passed her the silver Zippo, flipping back the catch with her thumb. “I was worried you might . . . I was thinking of the time . . .”

“What time?”

There was reproach in Anneliese’s voice, a kind of warning, and Marta knew she should drop it. Instead she said, “I was remembering when you—”

Anneliese flicked the lighter closed before Marta could finish the sentence. “I know what you’re thinking, Marta. And I’ve asked you not to bring up the subject.”

Marta felt herself flush. “Certainly, Mrs. Bauer. It was only out of concern for your well-being.” As she said this, though, she knew it was only partially true. She didn’t want what had happened to ever be repeated, but also—if she was honest—part of her enjoyed the fact that she could either keep or tell Anneliese’s secret. The power she held in this one single arena. She was, she realized, still upset about the other day, when Anneliese had diminished her role as Pepik’s governess. She hadn’t forgotten about the jab after all; she hadn’t forgotten about any of the jabs, but rather had let them build up inside her like a big pile of palacinky. And now, to top it off, she found herself jealous of the watch. Which, she realized, was ridiculous. What had she ever done to deserve something so beautiful? Not to mention that she’d have nowhere to wear it . . .

“As I’ve said to you before,” Anneliese said, “those were special circumstances.” She inhaled, holding the smoke in her lungs for a long moment. Then she exhaled. “The baby,” she said.

Marta saw Anneliese’s hands were trembling, and realized she had really unnerved her. And for no reason at all. “Of course, Mrs. Bauer. I understand. I’m sorry.” But Anneliese still looked pale, and Marta knew she was now thinking of the lost baby girl, was slowly being sucked into the tide pool of grief. Now look what she’d done! Anneliese already had enough to worry about without being reminded of the greatest tragedy of her life. Marta had the sudden thought of repenting even further, to distract Anneliese by letting her in on another secret. “I know someone else who tried to kill herself,” she said. As soon as she’d spoken, though, Anneliese’s face fell, and Marta cursed herself for her bad judgement. Why didn’t she just stop talking already?

“Who?” Anneliese asked, a weariness in her voice. She didn’t really want to know, Marta saw, but she had no choice now but to pursue the conversation. “Hella Anselm,” she said.

Anneliese looked up sharply. “Ernst’s wife? When?”

“A long time ago.”

“She didn’t succeed?” Anneliese laughed at her own question. “Obviously not!”

“I don’t think she wanted to.”

“Most people don’t.”

“She’s not the most stable person,” Marta said, cautious.

“I won’t ask how you know that.”

The silences lined up between them, a row of children with blank faces.

“How did she—” Anneliese started, but she stopped herself mid-sentence. “No, don’t tell me.”

Marta exhaled, relieved. They could finally drop it. “Here, Mrs. Bauer,” she said eagerly. “Let me help you unpack this.” She reached out to lift the sack of potatoes, but Anneliese blocked her path. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I need to be doing something.” She hoisted the burlap bag onto the shelf, clearly as relieved as Marta to have something else to focus on.

“I apologize again,” Marta said under her breath. But Anne-liese didn’t hear her or else chose to ignore the comment. “I’m going crazy inside all day,” she said instead. “Like a little scared rabbit in its hole.”

She looked up and saw Marta smiling. “What?”

“Nothing. I understand what you mean.”

Anneliese held her cigarette away from her face in her left hand and swabbed at her eyes with her right. “Do you?” she asked. She touched her eye again. “I simply can’t keep living like this. And I don’t know why Pavel can’t see it. It’s dangerous to stay, because you get used to it. You accommodate. You think, well, it isn’t so bad if the Herrings don’t want to associate with us. And it isn’t so bad if the Reichstag Company won’t sell to us. It isn’t so bad if—” Here she looked up at Marta. “But it is bad, isn’t it. We should leave, don’t you think?”

Marta