Chapter One Thousand Two Hundred Thirty-Four
15th August 1957
Tempelhof, Berlin
Sitting in the kitchen of the Gräfin’s house was always awkward. Petia, the Housekeeper had let Ben know the rules of the house the first time that had entered her kitchen as she had stood there chopping up potatoes for that evening’s dinner. Among other things he was not to go above the parlor floor. His hands were supposed remain in plain view at all times. Kiki is a good girl and would remain so. If he had a problem with any of that he would learn that Petia’s knife could be used for far more than just chopping up potatoes.
Even though it was now the Summer Holiday, Kiki was still studying Latin. That sort of thing had come as a surprise to Ben, the ambition that Kiki had to finish her secondary education two years early and that she was being encouraged to do that. Today, there was the added complication of Zella being present. Ben had thought that Zella was amazing when he had first seen her ride up the alley on her motorcycle. He had learned since however that she looked at him with complete disdain and just who her terrifying father was.
An hour earlier, Ben’s father had given him a 50-pfennig coin and suggested that he go see if Kiki wanted ice cream. The whole thing was absurd, his parents had seen him talking to Kiki while he worked on the yard and thought that it was adorable. Running across the alley he had seen to his dismay the presence of Zella’s Ducati and the sound of Petia and Serhiy the Cook talking in Russian through the screen door at the back of the kitchen. He found Kiki and Zella sitting at the kitchen table Zella reading a magazine, celebrity gossip, this one speculating on the marriage prospects of the Emperor now that he was a widower. Kiki was writing phrases in Latin from a textbook in one of her notebooks.
Zella had seen Ben come in and she didn’t react. Kiki had said that it was because he wasn’t the sort that got her attention. Apparently, Zella was into Rock & Rollers. Black leather, greasy hair and all of that. Unfortunately for her, all the boys their age who were like that locally knew that Markgraf Emil von Holz, Zella’s father, would make them envy the dead if they were stupid enough to so much as say hello to his little girl. Kiki had greeted Ben warmly though and asked him to join her and Zella at the table. Then to Ben’s disappointment she went back to her Latin.
He was left spinning the coin on the table and trying to muster the courage to ask Kiki if she wanted to take a break from that and walk with him to the neighborhood market. Petia and Serhiy continued their conversation as they were apparently arguing over the ingredients for the next meal.
He was about to say something when Kiki took off her glasses. It was easy to forget how pretty her eyes were with how they were obscured most of the time, that caused his words to stick in his throat. Kiki said something in Russian to Petia and Serhiy, that caused Serhiy to bust up laughing and Petia to frown at her before saying something in rapid fire Russian. Kiki replied in kind. It was one more difference between Kiki and Ben, he had heard hints that Kiki’s mother had been a Russian noblewoman who had fled the Bolsheviks. Her even being able understand Petia, much less respond to her like she had suggested as much.
Kiki just gave the Housekeeper an impish smile before fiddling with her glasses and the coin fell flat on the table. A Berlin 50-pfennig coin had the Imperial Eagle on one side and a girl holding a shock of wheat on the other. The coin had landed with the eagle side down and to Ben’s astonishment, he noticed that the girl on the coin looked a lot like Kiki without her glasses.
“You look like the girl on the coin” Ben said only to watch Kiki freeze like Ben had just said something that he really shouldn’t have.
“Possibly because that is her” Zella said, “She was the model, or a photograph of her was anyway, a couple years ago. Kiki’s mother thought it was adorable, Kiki disagreed.”
“Did you win a contest or something?” Ben asked Kiki who clearly did not want to talk about this.
“It depends on what your idea of a contest is” Zella said. She looked like she was on the verge of laughing about that. Like if it was all some joke that she got, and he didn’t. Kiki just frowned at Zella, according to Kiki they were old friends and like with most friendships there were times when they got on each other’s nerves. He had wondered where he had seen Kiki before. Her being to model for the girl on the coin did sort of solve that mystery.
“What did you want Ben?” Kiki asked, changing the subject.
“I wanted to know if you wanted ice cream?” Ben asked, “From the market.”
He was hoping that she would say yes, but fearful that she would at the same time.
“Let’s go” Kiki said as she got up from the table, shooting one last accusatory glance at Zella who had gone back to her magazine.
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Later they were walking home in warm afternoon sunshine. Ben was enjoying his ice cream in the paper cup until he noticed that Kiki wasn’t. On the walk to the market he had noticed that she had constantly been looking over her shoulder and when they were in the store, she looked around every corner with a great deal of caution. While he had bought the ice cream, she had watched the street.
“Is everything alright?” Ben asked.
“No” Kiki replied, “I’m not used to this, public, the market, any of it.”
Once she said that Ben remembered that he had only ever seen her in their respective houses or in the back gardens until she had come with him. Was there a reason for that?