A dark legacy, p.4
A Dark Legacy, page 4
“Klaus was our savior. Without his help, my parents and I would be dust by now. He helped my parents get away from here during the bombing. He arranged to have us moved to a farmhouse far from here in the countryside. It was relatively safer there, as the countryside was less frequently targeted by allied bombers; there was nothing much of any importance there,” said Tobias as he took a sip of his coffee.
Tobias remained quiet for minutes and Nathaniel joined him the in silence. After a while Tobias said… “You know Nathaniel all my relatives are dead. Martha my wife left me almost thirty years ago. We never had children. Life can be lonely for such a man. Are you married Nathaniel?”
“No Tobias, I am not. But I think I may have found the girl I want to marry; I just haven’t mustered the courage to ask.” Laughter softened Nathaniel’s expression as he continued… “all the bullets and bombs in Afghanistan or Iraq never scared me so much.” Nathaniel surprised himself at his own candidness.
“Well, life is short, Nathaniel, if you love her then marry her and have lots of children. It is important for a man to have children,” said Tobias.
Nathaniel was really beginning to develop an affection for the old man. The kinship he felt with Tobias was similar to the one he felt with Ben Turner, the lead farm hand at Grasmere Keep, his ancestral home in the Lake District of England. Ben had been pivotal in forming his character at an early age. Next to his grandfather, perhaps Ben had the most influence on him as a child.
Tobias, you said earlier, that it was all rather mysterious. What did you mean by that?” asked Nathaniel.
“Ah, that, I am not really sure if it was just a rumor that went around,” said Tobias, unsure of himself.
“Rumor?” asked Nathaniel, his curiosity rising.
“You see, many of the top brass of the army at that time escaped or ‘emigrated’ to Argentina,” Tobias said, drawing air quotes. “I have heard my parents talk about the possibility of Klaus Hofmann having left Obersalzberg in 1944 for Argentina. Apparently, Klaus changed his name to Helmut Braun; funny that he should take Eva Braun’s last name. People we knew, who also knew Klaus, used to whisper that he may have run off to escape justice.”
“I wonder if you have any family photographs that may give me an idea of what your uncle looked like?” asked Nathaniel.
“I may have one or two of his photos in my parents’ family album,” said Tobias. As he got up to go to an old cabinet by the dining table, he pulled out a dusty leather-jacketed album that barely held together and opened it, rifling through the pages. He stopped at one in the middle, then walked back to where Nathaniel was seated to display the album. It was a faded black and white photograph, eaten by moths on the edges. The picture showed Tobias, his mother, father, and a young man in his early 20s.
“I think this was taken a few months before we had to leave Schönau am Königsee. My mother insisted on this photograph being taken as she was worried about how the war was going to come to an end and did not know when we would all be together again,” said Tobias.
Nathaniel took the album in his hands and looked at the picture closely. It was the same man from the photograph in the book at the Bundesarchiv.
“Can I take a picture of this photograph?” asked Nathaniel.
Tobias waved his hand indifferently and said, “Sure, it was all so long ago; who cares about these things now?”
Nathaniel’s mind was racing underneath his calm demeanor. He had a name, Helmut Braun, and a possibility that Klaus Hofmann did not die in Obersalzberg after all. The photograph was of the same man in the picture from the Archives! No doubt about that. If he did escape to Argentina, what happened to Eva Braun’s baby, Magnus? Nathaniel wondered.
It was almost lunchtime, and Nathaniel had a long way to get back to Berlin as he promised Annika. Although he would have loved to chat more with this amiable old man and take part in his memories, he said, “Tobias, you have been of immense help to me. I can’t thank you enough. I will not take up much more of your time.”
“Not at all, young man. It was a pleasure. As I said, this old man rarely gets visitors, and although our encounter has been brief, I have grown to like you,” said Tobias with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“The feeling is mutual, Tobias,” responded Nathaniel with an unusual warmth in his eyes. “Goodbye, Tobias,” said Nathaniel as he walked out of the house. Behind him, he could hear Tobias say, “…and have lots of children.
3
The Porsche 911 Carrera raced through the narrow roads of the Lake District towards the village of Grasmere, situated a few kilometers north of the town of Windermere. Nathaniel and Annika were headed to his ancestral farm, situated a little to the west of Grasmere village. A 400-acre farm known as Grasmere Keep has been in his family for generations.
There was a myth that the village got its name from the farm over the years, as men and women who worked for the farm settled around the area where River Rothay widened into a lake. In reality, the name was derived from the Old Norse language, meaning “lake surrounded by grass.”
The car was heading up the A 591 when Nathaniel took a small deviation to the right and drove slowly through a narrow road, bounded with stone walls and several cottages on either side. He pointed out a small white building with a wooden door to their left and said “That is Dove Cottage, where William Wordsworth once lived. I believe he lived there with his sister Dorothy.”
“Who lives there now?” asked Annika
“It’s a museum now,” replied Nathaniel.
“This place is magical Nathaniel; it must have been fun to grow up here,” said Annika.
Nathaniel turned towards her and smiled but said nothing.
They drove the rest of the way in silence as Annika was drinking in the unbelievable landscape all around.
They came back on the A 591 and headed north towards Grasmere and then west to Grasmere Keep. Annika looked ahead and saw that road was framed on both sides by granite walls that stretched as far as the eye could see. There were sheep and cows gracing in the distance. Everywhere she looked it was a dark green of grass and wooded hillsides. Together with the occasional glimpse of mountains in the distance, the scenery mesmerized Annika.
As they turned a corner she saw the main residence of Grasmere Keep standing prominently on the horizon. A substantial structure made of local stone, with weathered walls that testified to its 500-year history. The roof showed patches of repair, indicating ongoing maintenance and care. The house had a sturdy, unadorned appearance, with windows that offer views of the surrounding landscape.
Annika noticed that next to the entrance gate was a small Farm Office building. To the west of the main farmhouse, she saw what looked like the workshop for tractors and other farm vehicles and tools. To the north of the farmhouse was a rather large shed-like structure that housed the cattle. She had heard of the Grasmere Keep’s famous farm products when she lived in London. She remembered Nathaniel telling her that his farm claimed to own one of the largest herds of Holstein Friesian breed in all of England.
As the car pulled up the gravel driveway, Annika saw a large dairy processing facility further to the north and further northwest of the farmhouse was a barn that must have been constructed centuries ago but rebuilt and renovated over the years.
To the east, she saw more buildings that looked like residences and guest houses. The land around the buildings was a mix of fields, some with stone walls demarcating boundaries, and areas of woodland. The natural beauty of the Lake District enveloped the farm, giving it a secluded, timeless feel.
The car groaned gently to a stop on the gravel driveway of Grasmere Keep main house. He and Annika stepped out, greeted by the crisp Lake District air, sharp with the bite of winter. Sir William was walking towards the car as Nathaniel shut the engine. His stride exuded an unmistakable military background.
Sir William Radcliffe II, Nathaniel’s father, who would turn 75 in a few months, had spent most of his life in the British army and was a recipient of the Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath (GCB), the highest order that Her Majesty’s government could award for his services. After his retirement, he spent many years as an advisor to several Prime Ministers, including a few stints as the Ambassador to the USA and Germany. Now retired from military and political life, he lived on the farm, happy and content as a simple farmer. Sir William remained a widower after his wife’s passing some 30 years ago.
Even at this age, his physicality unyielded to time, muscles honed not in a gym but in the honest labor of the earth. His hands, large and capable, told silent tales of both the warrior and the farmer. He was a formidable man.
“Father!” Nathaniel called out, a smile breaking his usual stoic demeanor as he saw his father by the entrance to the main farmhouse.
“Hello son. Glad you could make it for Christmas this year,” William said, hugging his son. Then he turned to Annika, “Welcome, Annika,” Sir William greeted her, his voice a deep timbre. Annika reached out with an extended hand, but Sir William brushed her hand away and hugged her with both hands, giving her a kiss on both cheeks. “None of that…,” he said, laughing.
Sir William stood back and looked Annika up and down and said, “I can see why Nathaniel has been talking about you incessantly every opportunity he gets with me,” making Annika blush uncontrollably.
Annika said with a mixture of nerves and excitement, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Sir Radcliffe,” she said.
Sir William guffawed and said, “To hell with that, you will call me William,” and led the couple towards the main house.
As the three walked slowly towards the main farmhouse, there was a shout from behind them, “There you are lad!”
Nathaniel could recognize old Ben Turner’s voice even in the middle of a battle. In a way, Ben was the voice that whispered in his inner ear during some of the toughest battles of his life.
Ben was a couple of years younger than Sir William II and grew up with him almost like a brother. Ben’s father and his father and his father all worked at the farm. The Turner family have been integral to the success of the Keep as a commercial farm for over a century. Ben did not have any children as his wife passed away from cancer soon after their marriage. He remained single just like his friend Sir William, both widowers sharing similar grief.
Ben lived on the farm in one of the residences behind the main farmhouse and was part of the Radcliffe family and like them, deeply rooted in the soil of Grasmere Keep just as the ancient oaks that lined its boundaries.
“Ho, ho, ho!” hollered Nathaniel as he turned around and rushed towards Ben. They hugged like a father and a son would. Nathaniel held Ben for a long time as Annika watched from a distance and her eyes welled up. This is a side of Nathaniel that she had never seen.
“It’s been only two years since I last saw you and you have grown younger Ben!” Nathaniel mocked.
“Same to you, lad!” said Ben, “always the charmer, uh!”
“Well, you better introduce me to your girl now, lad! Have I got some stories for her?!” Ben chuckled, his eyes crinkling.
Nathaniel and Ben walked back to where Sir William and Annika waited. As they came close, Nathaniel said in mock formality, “Annika, this is Ben Turner. My lifelong friend, mentor, and co-conspirator. Ben, this is Annika Weber.”
Ben did not bother to say anything, but grinned from ear to ear and grabbed Annika, hugging her and making a fake attempt at kissing her when Nathaniel raised his voice, “Hey, hey, hey, that’s my girl you are fooling around with, old man!” Ben let her go and they all laughed loudly, walking towards the house.
Annika was flushed by the intensity of the emotions evoked by the meeting with Sir William and Ben Turner, so much so that she had almost missed out on the natural beauty that surrounded her and the history of the place. The farmhouse that they were headed towards was ancient. She looked at the old granite foundation of the Keep. “When did that stone get there, and who was the man who put it there?” she wondered. So much history! She was beginning to understand Nathaniel more than she ever thought possible.
Annika looked around the extensive woodlands that stretched in the distance. From between some of the hills and trees, she could see a lake in the distance. To the west of the farm, she could make out Beech and Birch and Conifers. Grasslands and meadows stretched as far as she could see in some directions.
‘Fairyland! Compared to the bustling city of her childhood, Hamburg, Nathaniel grew up in paradise!’ she thought to herself.
As they all got inside the house and made their way to the central hall, Annika asked Nathaniel, “How could you run off to the army at a young age from all this!” waving her hands 360 degrees.
“Tradition, my dear, tradition,” Nathaniel said, looking up at his father.
Sir William winked at them and turned to Ben, “Ben, I trust the two guest houses are ready for Cecilia and Thorne, Betty and Tom?”
“Already, Will. The young buck and his charming lady will stay here with you,” Ben said.
William and Ben’s relationship from childhood and their familiarity with each other was self-evident. Ben’s father, George Turner, was the revered house master for the elder Lord William Radcliffe I. He stewarded the Keep with a blend of unwavering loyalty, wisdom, and discipline till his final days.
Ben’s earliest memories were infused with the rich tapestry of life on the farm with his friend William II and time spent in the expanse of nature, a bond forged in the muddy adventures of two boys with boundless imagination, exploring every nook and cranny of the Keep. Both boys were terrified of old George Turner and made every effort together to avoid getting caught by him when their adventures damaged farm equipment or other installations.
“Your luggage is in the bedroom upstairs, lad!” Ben said, smiling at Annika.
“Very good, Ben, and thank you. Can you please show Annika the way up? I must run into town and see David’s mom,” said Nathaniel.
“Oh! You must? Now?” asked Annika, a little frustrated.
“It’s gonna be fine lass, I’ll show you the way and tell you some stories about Nathaniel that he wouldn’t want me to tell you in his presence,” said Ben, showing her the way to Nathaniel’s room upstairs.
I will be back in an hour at the most, darling. I just want to give Mrs. Hall the gift I got for her from Berlin and wish her a merry Christmas. Back in a jiffy.” said Nathaniel. On his way out, he gave her a peck on the cheek, as Sir William and Ben watched, with the eyes of adoring fathers.
As Nathaniel left, Ben said to Annika, “That David Hall was his partner in crime from childhood. Went to the same school here and joined the army together. They were inseparable. They even got out of the army together as well. I believe that boy is in Argentina somewhere, and his mom is alone here. Good of Nathaniel to visit her.”
“I am seeing versions of Nathaniel I haven’t seen before,” Annika said wistfully.
“You got the right stuff in that lad, lassie. Don’t let him get away,” said Ben, smiling at Annika and walking towards the stairs.
Annika had lunch with Sir William as Nathaniel was still out. Perhaps he had lunch with Mrs. Hall, Sir William suggested. The two of them talked about her life in Hamburg. She told him about her family, her father’s work as a scientist in Hamburg, her job at the fashion company in Berlin, her boss Eva Richter, and so on.
Sir William mostly talked about Nathaniel and Thorne and the farm. The two bonded through their mutual love for Nathaniel.
After lunch, Annika decided to take a stroll outside and made her way out through the back door and walked towards the Dairy.
Two girls were walking towards the house and began to giggle as they saw Annika. Each had a pail of milk in their hands, as they were making their way towards the kitchen in the back. The girls were wearing jeans, flannel shirts, and jackets. Annika found them to be pretty and thought their rustic mannerisms were charming.
“So ye are Nathaniel’s girlfriend, ay?!” asked the slightly taller girl.
“You could say that,” Annika replied, smiling at the girls’ gauche mannerisms.
“I am Annika, and you are?” she asked.
“I am Lucy, and this is Sarah,” the second girl said, pointing at the taller girl.
“We are the cowgirls here, ye see,” said Sarah, laughing.
“Ya, we take care of them. We milk some too, but most of the milking these days is done by machine, ya see,” said Lucy.
“Nathaniel is a lucky man, isn’t he?” Sarah said to Lucy as if Annika’s presence did not matter.
Annika laughed and asked, “You girls know Nathaniel well?”
“Oh yea, but we were wee little girls when Nathaniel was here. We always looked up to him. Doubt he hardly noticed us though,” said Sarah as she giggled.
“Where do you live? On the farm?” asked Annika.
“Na, we come in the morning. We live down in the village,” replied Lucy.
“Have you met everyone else?” asked Sarah.
“Not yet Sarah, we just got here. I met Ben and now you two sweet girls,” Annika replied.
“Well, there is Samuel. He is like an engineer; he takes care of all the equipment around here. Then there is Thomas and there is Henry. They kind of do general work. Well, almost anything that needs to be done, really. You want anything done; you talk to them. We all live in the village if you meant to ask,” said Sarah.
“Well, we got work to do Annika. We will see ya at lunch tomorrow. It’s tradition to have Christmas lunch with the family at the old hall,” said Lucy. Annika smiled and said “Oh, please don’t let me get me in your way.” The girls giggled again as they skipped down the slope towards the kitchen.
Towards evening, Thorne Radcliffe, Sir William’s elder son, and his family arrived. Beatrice, or Betty as everyone called her was Thorne’s wife of almost 12 years and they had one son Tom aged 6.
