She knew what he was thinking. “See?” she said. “Bad girl.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m crazy about you anyway.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

It had been hard for Walli to leave Berlin. Karolin was there, and he wanted to be near her. But that made no sense when they were separated by the Wall. Although they had been only a mile apart he could never see her. He could not risk crossing the border again: it was only by luck that he had not been killed last time. All the same it had been hard for him to move to Hamburg.

Walli told himself he understood why Karolin had chosen to stay with her family to have the baby. Who was best qualified to help her when she gave birth—her mother, or a seventeen-year-old guitar player? But the logic of her decision was small consolation to him.

He thought about her when he went to bed at night and as soon as he woke up in the morning. When he saw a pretty girl in the street it just made him sad about Karolin. He wondered how she was. Did the pregnancy make her uncomfortable and nauseous, or was she glowing? Were her parents angry with her, or thrilled at the prospect of a grandchild?

They exchanged letters, and both always wrote “I love you.” But they hesitated to say more about their emotions, knowing that every word would be scrutinized by a secret policeman in the censorship office, perhaps someone they knew, such as Hans Hoffmann. It was like declaring your feelings in front of a scornful audience.

They were on opposite sides of the Wall, and they might as well have been a thousand miles apart.

So Walli came to Hamburg and moved into his sister’s spacious apartment.

Rebecca never nagged him. His parents, in their letters, badgered him to go back to school, or perhaps college. Their stupid suggestions had included that he should study to become an electrician, a lawyer, and a schoolteacher like Rebecca and Bernd. But Rebecca herself said nothing. If he spent all day in his room practising the guitar, she made no objection, just asked him to wash up his coffee cup instead of leaving it dirty in the sink. If ever he talked to her about his future, she said: “What’s the rush? You’re seventeen. Do what you want, and see what happens.” Bernd was equally tolerant. Walli adored Rebecca and liked Bernd more every day.

He had not yet got used to West Germany. People had bigger cars and newer clothes and nicer homes. The government was openly criticized in the newspapers and even on television. Reading some attack on the aging Chancellor Adenauer, Walli would find himself looking guiltily over his shoulder, fearful that someone might observe him reading subversive material; and he would have to remind himself that this was the West, where he had freedom of speech.

He was sad to move away from Berlin but, he now discovered to his delight, Hamburg was the pounding heart of the German music scene. It was a port city, entertaining sailors from all over the world. A street called the Reeperbahn was the center of the red-light district, with bars, strip joints, semi-secret homosexual clubs, and many music venues.