The Defeated Aristocrat by Katherine John

chair, Wolf. Peter, sit next to him. Wilhelm,’ Ludwiga glared at him. ‘You and Paul are supposed to be studying in university, not brawling in the streets. Why can’t you boys stay out of trouble for five minutes? If you won’t think of yourselves, think of the problems you’re causing your brothers.’
    ‘To hell with Franz …’
    ‘I was referring to Wolfgang and Martin, not Franz. Now go and wash your hands and face in the kitchen. You’re filthy.’
    To Wolf and Peter’s amazement, Wilhelm did as Ludwiga ordered.
    Ludwiga took the coffee pot from Minna and filled Wolf’s and Peter’s cups. ‘Did you hit Paul?’ she asked Wilhelm when he returned.
    ‘He swung the first punch,’ Wilhelm retorted defensively.
    ‘That’s not the point …’
    ‘That’s the whole point …’
    ‘The point is you two are more than brothers, you’re twins,’ Wolf said sternly. ‘Family comes before politics or outside considerations.’
    ‘Family! Like Franz, commandeering the von Mau estate and leaving the rest of us to starve. Do you know that he tried to put our university funds in the estate bank account?’
    ‘You can leave Franz and the estate to me,’ Wolf said. ‘I promised Papa to look after you and I will.’
    ‘A lot of good your promise to Papa’s been this last year,’ Wilhelm snapped.
    ‘I wasn’t here to stop Franz. I am now. How’s Liesl?’ Wolf took a bread roll from the basket Ludwiga offered him
    ‘Very well, when we saw her at Christmas. Enjoying life in Allenstein and her work at the hospital. She’s going to be thrilled when she hears you’re alive, Wolf.’ Ludwiga passed him a plate of cold meats and cheese.
    ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw so much food,’ Wolf complimented.
    ‘Some of Martin’s patients, like Becker the baker and Fleishmann the butcher find it easier to pay their bills in kind,’ Ludwiga explained. ‘It suits us as it saves shopping time.’
    ‘One Paul, almost but not quite as good as new. Stop fighting in the streets. That goes for both of you, Wilhelm.’ Martin led a bandaged Paul into the dining room. ‘So, Werlfi, Peter, what happened to you? Where have you been? I know you were taken prisoner, Peter, but Gretel showed me a telegram that said you were dead, Wolf. How did you survive? Where have you been until now? The war ended months ago …’
    ‘You’ve just fired more questions at us in seconds than the British who debriefed us did in months, Martin.’ Peter poured milk into his coffee.
    Wolf allowed Peter to furnish the explanations, sat back and studied the others. Lotte’s face was grey, her eyes lifeless. She reminded him of the soldiers who’d been too exhausted to continue even the pretence of fighting. Karin and Christa looked lost as they picked at the rolls on their plates. Martin couldn’t stop staring at him in between glancing at Ludwiga as she poured coffee, handed out warm rolls, pats of cold butter and liver sausage, ensuring everyone had everything they needed. Paul and Wilhelm remained subdued, Wilhelm more than Paul, probably because he’d inflicted Paul’s injuries.
    Wolf recalled Martha telling him that Martin’s wife was a nurse and older than his brother. He guessed by at least ten years. There was an inherent kindness and calm about her that reminded him of the women who’d worked in the front line hospitals.
    When they’d all finished eating, except Lotte who hadn’t attempted to eat or drink, Ludwiga stacked the plates.
    ‘You and Martin must have things to discuss, Wolf. Go into the parlour while I get your rooms ready. You’re both moving in here? With Pippi, Martha, and the children of course,’ she said to Peter.
    Wolf noticed Ludwiga had tactfully made an assumption, not issued an invitation, which would have put Martin in the position of host.
    ‘Thank you, Ludwiga, but Pippi, me, and the children will be returning to our apartment in her father’s house,’ Peter replied.
    ‘You’ll