Evie said angrily: ‘Dave’s a boy. I thought you were a man, Hank.’
‘Now,’ he said, suddenly looking aggressive. ‘Watch your mouth.’
Evie was incredulous. ‘Watch my mouth? I’ve just caught you in bed with another girl, and you’re telling me to watch my mouth?’
‘I mean it,’ he said threateningly. ‘Don’t go too far.’
Dave was suddenly scared. Hank looked as if he might punch Evie. Was that what working-class Irish people did? And what was Dave supposed to do – protect his sister from her lover? Would Dave be expected to fight the greatest musical genius since Elvis Presley?
‘Too far?’ Evie said angrily. ‘I’m going too far now – right out of the fucking door. How’s that?’ She turned and marched away.
Dave looked at Hank. ‘Erm . . . about that song . . .’
Hank shook his head silently.
‘Okay,’ said Dave. ‘Right.’ He could not think of a way to continue the conversation.
Hank held the door for him and he went out.
Evie cried in the car for five minutes, then dried her eyes. ‘I’ll drive you home,’ she said.
When they got back to the West End Dave said: ‘Come up to the flat. I’ll make you a cup of coffee.’
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Walli was on the couch, playing the guitar. ‘Evie’s a bit upset,’ Dave told him. ‘She broke up with Hank.’ He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
Walli said: ‘In English, the phrase “a bit upset” means very unhappy. If you were only a little unhappy, say, because I forgot your birthday, you would say you were “terribly upset”, wouldn’t you?’
Evie smiled. ‘Bless you, Walli, you’re so logical.’
‘Creative, too,’ said Walli. ‘I’ll cheer you up. Listen to this.’ He started to play, then he sang: ‘I miss ya, Alicia.’
Dave came in from the kitchen to listen. Walli sang a sad ballad in D minor, with a couple of chords Dave did not recognize.
When it ended, Dave said: ‘It’s a beautiful song. Did you hear it on the radio? Who’s it by?’
‘It’s by me,’ Walli said. ‘I made it up.’
‘Wow,’ said Dave. ‘Play it again.’
This time, Dave improvised a harmony.
Evie said: ‘You two are great. You didn’t need that bastard Hank.’
Dave said: ‘I want to sing this song to Mark Batchelor.’ He looked at his watch. It was half past five. He picked up the phone and called International Stars. Batchelor was still at his desk. ‘We have a song,’ Dave said. ‘Can we come to your office and play it to you?’
‘I’d love to hear it, but I was just leaving for the day.’
‘Can you drop in at Henrietta Street on your way home?’
There was a hesitation, then Batchelor said: ‘Yes, I could, it’s near my train station.’
‘What’s your drink?’
‘Gin and tonic, please.’
Twenty minutes later, Batchelor was on the sofa with a glass in his hand, and Dave and Walli were playing the song on two guitars and singing in harmony, with Evie joining in on the chorus.
When the song ended he said: ‘Play it again.’
After the second time they looked at him expectantly. There was a pause. Then he said: ‘I wouldn’t be in this business if I didn’t know a hit when I heard it. This is a hit.’
Dave and Walli grinned. Dave said: ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘I love it,’ Batchelor said. ‘With this, I can get you a recording contract.’
Dave put down his guitar, stood up, and shook hands with Batchelor to seal the deal. ‘We’re in business,’ he said.
Mark took a long sip of his drink. ‘Did Hank just write the song on the spot, or did he have it in a drawer somewhere?’
Dave grinned. Now that they had shaken hands, he could level with Batchelor. ‘It’s not a Hank Remington song,’ he said.
Batchelor raised his eyebrows.
Dave said: ‘You assumed it was, and I apologize for not correcting you, but I wanted you to have an open mind.’
‘It’s a good song, and that’s all that matters. But where did you get it?’
‘Walli wrote it,’ said Dave. ‘This afternoon, while I was in your office.’
‘Great,’ said Batchelor. He turned to Walli. ‘What have you got for the B-side?’
*
‘You ought to go out,’ Lili Franck said to Karolin.
This was not Lili’s own idea. In fact, it was her mother’s. Carla was worried about Karolin’s health. Since Hans Hoffmann’s visit, Karolin had lost weight. She looked pale and listless. Carla had said: ‘Karolin is only twenty years old. She can’t shut herself up like a nun for the rest of her life. Can’t you take her out somewhere?’
They were in Karolin’s room now, playing their guitars and singing to Alice, who was sitting on the floor surrounded by toys. Occasionally she clapped her hands enthusiastically, but mostly she ignored them. The song she liked best was ‘Love Is It’.
Karolin said: ‘I can’t go out, I’ve got Alice to look after.’
Lili was prepared to deal with objections. ‘My mother can watch her,’ she said. ‘Or even Grandmother Maud. Alice’s not much trouble in the evenings.’ Alice was now fourteen months and sleeping all night.
‘I don’t know. It wouldn’t feel right.’
‘You haven’t had a night out for years – literally.’
‘But what would Walli think?’
‘He doesn’t expect you to hide away and never enjoy yourself, does he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’m going to the St Gertrud Youth Club tonight. Why don’t you come with me? There’s music and dancing and usually a discussion – I don’t think Walli would mind.’
The East German leader, Walter Ulbricht, knew that young people needed entertainment, but he had a problem. Everything they liked – pop music, fashion, comics, Hollywood movies – was either unavailable or banned. Sports were approved of, but usually involved separating the boys from the girls.
Lili knew that most people of her age hated the government. Teenagers did not care much about Communism or capitalism, but they were passionate about haircuts, fashion, and pop music. Ulbricht’s puritan dislike of everything they held dear had alienated Lili’s generation. Worse, they had developed a fantasy, probably wholly unrealistic, about the lives of their contemporaries in the West, whom they imagined to have record players in their bedrooms and cupboards full of hip new clothes and ice cream every day.
Church youth clubs were permitted as a feeble attempt to fill the gap in the lives of adolescents. Such clubs were safely uncontroversial, but not as suffocatingly righteous as the Communist party youth organization, the Young Pioneers.
Karolin looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she said. ‘I can’t spend my life being a victim. I’ve had bad luck, but I mustn’t let that define me. The Stasi think I’m just the girl whose boyfriend killed a border guard, but I don’t have to accept what they say.’
‘Exactly!’ Lili was pleased.
‘I’m going to write to Walli and tell him all about it. But I’ll go with you.’
‘Then let’s get changed.’
Lili went to her own room and put on a short skirt – not quite a miniskirt, as worn by girls on the Western television shows watched by everyone in East Germany, but above the knee. Now that Karolin had agreed, Lili asked herself whether this was the right course. Karolin certainly needed a life of her own: she had been dead right in what she said about not letting the Stasi define her. But what would Walli think, when he found out? Would he worry that Karolin was forgetting him? Lili had not seen her brother for almost two years. He was nineteen now, and a pop star. She did not know what he might think.
Karolin borrowed Lili’s blue jeans, then they made up their faces together. Lili’s older sister, Rebecca, had sent them black eyeliner and blue eyeshadow from Hamburg, and by a miracle the Stasi had not stolen it.
They went to the kitchen to take their leave. Carla was feeding Alice, who waved goodbye to her mother so cheerfully that Karolin was a little put out.
They walked to a Protestant church a few streets away. Only Grandmother Maud was a regular churchgoer, but Lili had been twice previously to the youth club held in the crypt. It was run by a new young pastor called Odo Vossler who wore his hair like the Beatles. He was dishy, though he was too old for Lili, at least twenty-five.
For music Odo had a piano, two guitars and a record player. They started with a folk dance, something the government could not possibly disapprove of. Lili was paired with Berthold, a boy of about her own age, sixteen. He was nice but not sexy. Lili had her eye on Thorsten, who was a bit older and looked like Paul McCartney.
The dance steps were energetic, with much clapping and twirling. Lili was pleased to see Karolin entering into the spirit of the dance, smiling and laughing. She already looked better.
But the folk dancing was only a token, something to talk about in response to hostile inquiries. Someone put on ‘I Feel Fine’ by the Beatles, and they all started to do the Twist.
After an hour they paused for a rest and a glass of Vita Cola, the East German Coke. To Lili’s great satisfaction, Karolin looked flushed and happy. Odo went around talking to each person. His message was that if anyone had any problems, including issues about personal relationships and sex, he was there to listen and give advice. Karolin said to him: ‘My problem is that the father of my child is in the West,’ and they got into a deep discussion until the dancing started again.
At ten, when the record player was switched off, Karolin surprised Lili by picking up one of the guitars. She gestured to Lili to take the other. The two had been playing and singing together at home, but Lili had never imagined doing it in public. Now Karolin started an Everly Brothers number, ‘Wake Up, Little Susie’. The two guitars sounded good together, and Karolin and Lili sang in harmony. Before they got to the end, everyone in the crypt was jiving. At the end of the song, the dancers called for more.
They played ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ and ‘If I Had a Hammer’, then for a slow dance they did ‘Love Is It’. The kids did not want them to stop, but Odo asked them to play one more number then go home before the police came and arrested him. He said it with a smile, but he meant it.
For a finale they played ‘Back in the USA’.