Fall From Grace (16 page)

Paul was having dinner with Kelly and Lydia at the Rice Bowl, his favourite Chinese restaurant in Manchester, down on Cross Street. They often came here after having a few early drinks in town. They liked the largely white walls with their framed pieces of Chinese artefacts and the friendly way with which the staff always greeted them. Lydia particularly liked a Buddha’s face in wood that was hanging on the far wall and often stated a desire to steal it for her living room.

Their starters had already been cleared away. Paul had gone for Won Ton soup and the girls had each ordered a selection of Dim Sum. Paul poured some more of the Chilean red wine they were drinking into each of the girl’s glasses before replenishing his own and then their main courses arrived, laid out on the table by two waiters dressed in the traditional Chinese black shirts and baggy trousers. Paul had ordered beef in a black bean sauce with crispy fried noodles, Kelly had ordered a large bowl of noodle soup with prawns, and Lydia had satisfied her sweet tooth with a sweet and sour chicken. The first bottle of wine had almost gone so they ordered another. None of them had brought their cars. They were going to get the metrolink home.

‘You see, the thing about it is that people didn’t expect Labour politicians to be doing it,’ said Lydia as a contribution to the discussion they were having about the MP’s expenses scandal and how it was taking a long time for the public to trust politicians again. ‘They expected it from the Tories. They expected them to be cleaning up whatever they can, claiming for gardening and dog food when they’re a multi-millionaire and all that. But they didn’t expect politicians from the party of the working class to be claiming two hundred quid for a bathroom towel and to flip their designated homes to avoid paying capital gains tax.’

‘Dead on,’ said Kelly.

‘They’ve not all been at it though,’ said Paul. ‘Some of them have done wrong and they need to account for it, fair enough. But there are other more powerful people in society who’ve done much more damage. Like the bankers who brought the entire financial system of the world to the brink but still expect their million pound bonuses. Captains of industry expecting the same even after the companies they ran lost millions. Multi-national companies dumping toxic waste on African coasts and nobody gives a shit about local people dying because they’re only poor Africans and they don’t rate in the world pecking order, which is why those multi-nationals go there in the first place. Our politicians, no matter how much they’ve swindled out of the system, are practically saints compared to all that lot.’

‘That’s all true enough,’ said Kelly.

The waiting staff returned and cleared away the remnants of their main courses and replaced them on the table with some orange segments, slices of melon and a hot towel each.

‘The wine is looking pretty low again,’ said Lydia, picking up the bottle and turning it one way and then the other. ‘Shall we order another?’

‘Why not,’ said Paul, ‘I don’t care that it’s a school night and I can tell neither of you are on an early shift.’

‘Anyway, enough of all this politics,’ said Kelly. ‘Show us that watch again.’

Paul had said that for one night only he’d wear the watch his father had given him. He’d have to admit that he was bloody proud of it but it would be only coming out on very special occasions. He’d never seen anything like it and neither had either of the girls.

‘It’s like something out of another world,’ said Kelly as she held Paul’s wrist admiring it. ‘Be careful wearing it though. It looks pretty valuable.’

‘It’s probably very old,’ said Paul as his eyes followed the line of encrusted diamonds around the watch face. He’d never have bought anything like it but he’d keep it forever now that his father had given it to him.

‘It wouldn’t do any harm, would it,’ said Kelly. ‘I mean I’m sure your Dad didn’t give it to you for that reason but it might be an idea.’

Paul took the watch off and held it up. ‘I wonder what it could tell me if it could talk.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Kelly.

‘I don’t know,’ said Paul. ‘It’s just a feeling I get. Dad didn’t tell me much about the lady who gave it to him. Perhaps he was some rich bitch’s bit of rough.’

‘He’s different,’ stated Paul. ‘His experiences in Afghanistan have damaged him. He went through absolute hell out there and I want to help him.’

‘But you don’t have to anymore, Paul,’ said Lydia. ‘That’s all we’re saying. Now that he’s made his choice you can wash your hands of him and move on with your life.’

‘No, I can’t, Lydia,’ said Paul, firmly, ‘and if you two can’t deal with that then it’s your problem, but I’ve never turned my back on anybody when they needed me and I’m not going to start with Jake.’

‘You’re really playing with fire Paul,’ said Kelly, ‘you know that. If he’s as damaged as you say then he needs professional help.’

‘Yeah, I do know,’ said Paul, ‘but whilst there’s a part of him that needs me I’ll be there for him. If I end up looking like a twat, well then it won’t be the first time that love has done that to me. Look, I just know that you have to follow your heart sometimes and damn the consequences. Otherwise, you may as well be dead.’

TEN

Paul took the watch his father had given him into a jewellers shop on St. Peter’s Square in Manchester to have it valued. Kelly was right about it being a good idea. In any case he probably needed to get it insured.

The man behind the counter was middle-aged and dressed in a rather formal three piece grey pin-striped suit. He’d lost the hair on the top of his head and there was growing evidence that perhaps he needed to think about getting bigger trousers. Paul was in a light brown suede jacket and blue jeans and the man’s face lit up when he saw him. Great, thought Paul. I always pull the Adonis types.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ The man asked with a smile so sweet it was like being greeted by a slice of strawberry cheesecake.

‘I’d like to get a valuation on this watch, please,’ said Paul as he handed over the watch in the box his father had presented it in to him. He watched the man’s expression suddenly change into a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

‘Could you wait here a moment, please? I’m the son in Rubinstein and Son. My father started the business and he’s the real expert.’

‘Is this a problem?’ Paul asked.

‘Oh no problem,’ said the man, all conciliatory smiles and rather camp appeasing gestures. ‘No problem at all. I’ll just be a few minutes.’ He then disappeared into the back of the shop.

When the man came back he brought with him a rather elderly looking gentleman in the same kind of grey pin-striped three-piece suit, but he also wore a hat with a large rim and he had a short beard. He extended his hand to Paul. ‘I’m Saul Rubinstein,’ he said before turning to his son, ‘and this is my son Lionel. Now where did you get this watch?’

‘He was given it as a present,’ said Paul. ‘But I don’t know why I’m answering your questions. I want the watch to be valued and if you can’t do that then I’ll take it somewhere else.’

Lionel Rubinstein went over to the other counter on the other side of the shop where a young couple were looking for an engagement ring. Paul glanced at them enviously. They looked so carefree and in love, holding hands, touching, kissing, thinking about the future and never expecting anything to go wrong. He smiled and silently wished them every blessing.

‘You’ve heard of the Holocaust, Mr. Foster?’

‘It’s Paul and yes, of course I’ve heard of the Holocaust, Mr. Rubinstein.’

‘Then you will know of its origins in the Germany of the 1930’s? You will know that the lives of many Jewish people were snatched away from them and they were left with nothing but the yellow triangle the Nazi’s forced them to wear?’

‘Yes?’ said Paul.

‘Their livelihoods, their homes, all of their possessions were taken in raids where many suffered and some died. I was six years old. We were driven out of our family home, me, my parents, my four brothers and sisters. My father was in the jewellery business and even though I was young, I learned many things. At the end of the war I was the only member of my family left. The rest had all perished in Auschwitz. I made my way to England and married a Manchester lass. I’ve been here ever since. We have seven children, nineteen grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. Lionel is our youngest and the only one who isn’t married. He has his own flat in the Northern Quarter but comes home every Friday evening for the start of the Sabbath.’

‘Mr. Rubinstein, I sympathise with your story, I really do,’ said Paul who didn’t think it was any surprise that the little Jewish princess Lionel was the only one of Saul’s children who hadn’t contributed to the continuation of the Jewish line, ‘but I just don’t understand the connection with me and this watch?’

Saul Rubinstein held up the watch in the space between them. ‘Paul, only ten of these watches were made. They were all hand made by my father and my older brothers at our workshop which was above the retail shop in Berlin. The jewels came from our cousins who were in the diamond trade in Antwerp, Belgium.’

‘You’re saying this watch was hand made by your family?’

‘Yes,’ said Saul, ‘we never intended making anymore than ten. They were meant to be an exclusive line. Paul, we were the most prominent Jewish family in the jewellery trade in Berlin at that time and these watches would’ve sealed our place and the future financial security of our family. But then the Nazi’s happened. I’ve never set eyes on one of them since everything was taken from us. That is until now.’

‘He wanted me to have the watch before he passed away,’ said Paul. ‘He’s an ordinary working-class man, Mr. Rubinstein. He drove buses all his working life. Considering the history of it I just can’t imagine how he would get involved with somebody who had something like this watch.’

‘Well then if you think your father could bear to tell you,’ said Saul. ‘You should ask him who she was and if he knows how this watch came into her possession. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’d be very interested to know.’

*

Dieter was having grave doubts about what Eleanor was about to do.

‘Are you sure you should be doing this, liebling? I mean, if it means telling more lies? The police are already highly suspicious’

‘I think it’s a bit late to worry about that,’ said Eleanor. ‘About seventy years too late.’

The Kathy Jenkins interview had been published on the news website and had been picked up by all of the national dailies and had made Eleanor’s blood boil with rage. All of these matters had been left alone for so many years and throughout that time all the demons had been under her control. Now it was as if they were flying out of her castle windows without her being able to do anything about it. Well she was going to see about that. A few wings needed to be clipped.