teachers?â
âBernd Held is frantic,â Rebecca said. âBut he was given orders from above.â
Lili said: âWhat will you do?â
âGet another job. It shouldnât be difficult. Bernd has given me a glowing reference. And every school in East Germany is short of teachers, because so many have moved to the West.â
âYou should move west,â said Lili.
âWe should all move west,â said Walli.
âMother wonât, you know that,â said Rebecca. âShe says we must solve our problems, not run away from them.â
Walliâs father came in, dressed in a dark-blue suit with a waistcoat, old-fashioned but elegant. Grandma Maud said: âGood evening, Werner, dear. Rebecca needs a drink. Sheâs been fired.â Grandma often suggested that someone needed a drink. Then she would have one, too.
âI know about Rebecca,â Father said shortly. âIâve talked to her.â
He was in a bad mood: he had to be, to speak ungraciously to his mother-in-law, whom he loved and admired. Walli wondered what had happened to upset the old man.
He soon found out.
âCome into my study, Walli,â said Father. âI want a word.â He went through the double doors into the smaller drawing room, which he used as his home office. Walli followed him. Father sat behind the desk. Walli knew he was to remain standing. âWe had a conversation a month ago about smoking,â Father said.
Walli immediately felt guilty. He had started smoking to look older, but he had grown to like it, and now it was a habit.
âYou promised to give it up,â his father said.
In Walliâs opinion it was none of his fatherâs business whether he smoked or not.
âDid you give it up?â
âYes,â Walli lied.
âDonât you know that it smells?â
âI suppose I do.â
âI could smell it on you as soon as I walked into the drawing room.â
Now Walli felt a fool. He had been caught out in a childish lie. This did not make him feel any more friendly toward his father.
âSo I know you havenât given it up.â
âWhy did you ask me the question, then?â Walli hated the petulant note he heard in his own voice.
âI was hoping youâd tell the truth.â
âYou were hoping to catch me out.â
âBelieve that if you wish. I suppose youâve got a pack in your pocket now.â
âYes.â
âPut it on my desk.â
Walli took the pack from his trouser pocket and angrily threw it onto the desk. His father picked up the pack and casually tossed it into a drawer. They were Lucky Strikes, not the inferior East German brand called f6, and it was almost a full packet, too.
âYouâll stay in every evening for a month,â his father said. âAt least you wonât be visiting bars where people play the banjo and smoke all the time.â
Panic made Walliâs stomach cramp. He struggled to remain calm and reasonable. âItâs not a banjo, itâs a guitar. And I canât possibly stay in for a month.â
âDonât be ridiculous. Youâll do as I say.â
âAll right,â Walli said desperately. âBut not starting tonight.â
âStarting now.â
âBut I have to go to the Minnesänger club tonight.â
âThatâs just the kind of place I want you to keep away from.â
The old man was impossible! âIâll stay in every night for a month from tomorrow, okay?â
âYour quarantine will not be adjusted to suit your plans. That would defeat the purpose. It is intended to inconvenience you.â
In this mood Father could not be shaken from his resolution, but Walli was mad with frustration, and he tried anyway. âYou donât understand! Tonight Iâm entering a contest at the Minnesängerâitâs a unique opportunity.â
âIâm not postponing your
Learning to Kill: Stories