Christopher and His Kind Page #5

Shame.

Shame.

Beruf.

Street sweeper. No, maybe...

Domestic servant or...

Yes. Why not?

Domestic servant.

Heinz.

I cannot come, Christopher.

But of course you can.

No. It is too dangerous.

- For you, for me.

- It's even more dangerous if you stay.

- For Gerhardt.

- Gerhardt? He's one of them.

- For God's sake!

- He's my brother.

We're brothers too, Heinz,

and more, much more besides.

- This is my country.

- Not at the moment it isn't.

It will be again one day. I've no doubt.

But in the meantime...

You do not miss home.

I have no home. This is home. Wherever I am.

We should be where we belong.

We are where we belong.

Together we must stand.

Together we're responsible for each other

as individuals.

Don't you see?

You have to come with me. I want you to.

Now you do. But in a week, a month...

I'll still want you, Heinz.

Heinz...

Of course I would.

I'm sure I do not know, Herr Isherwood.

What makes you want to leave Berlin?

How can I best put this, Frulein?

Adolf Hitler.

Ach, the Fhrer.

One day it's Brning, then von Papen.

Next von Schleicher.

Then it's Hitler.

We must all make the best of it,

Herr Isherwood.

I am staying.

Most Germans are staying.

And besides, where else would we go?

Well, this is your homeland, Frulein.

I understand that.

But... Heinz and I, we want to get out.

We want to...

travel.

But why? To go here, to go there.

What is the point?

Soon no-one will be left.

Herr Hamilton has gone. Frulein Ross.

Now you.

You get used to it.

You get used to anything.

Is your room satisfactory?

Mummy, he's not retarded.

Where you sleep.

Is good? Yes?

Yes, I sleep good.

Yes.

- Good.

- Thank you.

How long have you known Christopher?

- Mummy...

- Shush.

I know Christopher one year and one half.

Oh, that long?

And he's hardly mentioned you. If at all.

- And how long are you staying in our country?

- Two weeks.

I'm sure Heinz can answer for himself.

Can't you, Heinz?

- Two weeks.

- You see.

What a shame it's not longer.

Two weeks is as long as his permit allows.

Then maybe another time.

What is that?

- Oh, now...

- Christopher...

That, Heinz, is Wyberslegh Hall.

Part of the family estate.

It's in Cheshire,

in the North of England.

I painted it as a matter of fact.

- You paint it?

- Yes.

- It's very good.

- Thank you, Heinz.

That is the house

where I gave birth to Christopher.

- Yes?

- And very difficult it was too.

I was in labour for 18 hours.

Mummy, please.

Oh, dear, that was rather modern of me,

wasn't it?

But it was worth it.

He was the most delightful baby.

Yes, I'm sure Heinz isn't remotely interested.

He had the loveliest skin

and long slitty eyes, just like a Jap.

You see? Of course he's interested.

You live in the past, Mummy.

Perhaps I do, Christopher.

Because it's always there

and it never lets me down.

Do you have a mummy, Heinz?

She's dead.

Oh.

Oh, I am sorry.

Oh, dear.

Christopher's daddy's dead.

He was killed in the war.

He was my daddy too.

Yes, dear, but you hardly knew him.

He was killed by the Germans

on the Western Front.

What are you thinking of, hm?

I'm not blaming Heinz, darling.

I'm simply filling him in.

Mm. And for your information,

Heinz's daddy was also killed

on the Western Front.

Well, there you are, you see.

That's what wars do.

Kill people.

Toast?

He's a nice boy.

Well-mannered.

A street cleaner, you say?

There's no reason a street cleaner

can't be well-mannered.

No, dear. No reason at all.

How lovely to have a job like ordinary people.

But who'd have you, my darling?

You seem to be inept at pretty much everything.

Don't speak to him like that.

It's entirely your fault he is like he is.

- Like what?

- Richard, dear, we're talking.

It's terrible he has to go back.

And now Germany's withdrawn

from the League of Nations.

Yes. That is rather troubling.

I must think of a way of getting him out for good.

But why should that be your responsibility?

Surely he knows people who can help.

Well, he has absolutely no-one, Mummy,

except for a brother who's disowned him.

And, besides, I want it to be my responsibility.

So what will you do?

Get him another permit?

Or even another nationality.

Of course, you could always adopt him.

Darling, I don't think so.

Are you sure

he wouldn't be happier in Germany?

It is his home, after all.

It's where he belongs.

And he isn't a Jew or anything.

You have no idea.

It's Nazi Germany we're talking about.

It's not just the Jews who are being victimised.

I do read the papers, darling.

I'm fully aware

that the Nazis have done some bad things.

Although one hears that Herr Hitler's

done some good things too.

Oh, dear God!

If it weren't for that wretched boy Auden

dragging you off there.

I assure you, he didn't need to drag me.

But you must do as you wish, Christopher,

as you always do.

So long as you realise

what you might be taking on.

Right.

We're going to mail money to him in Berlin.

- We?

- So he can get on until he comes back here.

- And if you write a letter inviting him to stay...

- Christopher.

...then I'm sure they'll give him

a much longer permit.

Maybe even for keeps.

- You can't do that!

- I think you'll find that I can.

But you haven't proved your case.

Mr Isherwood, your mother invites

a foreign servant to her home

without the requisite permit.

You then send the boy money

telling him to claim it was a bequest,

which can be construed as an attempt

to deceive His Majesty's Immigration Service.

But then we have the letter that you wrote.

May I?

"I am counting the days until your arrival.

I've been so lonely without you. "

It's a bit curious, don't you think?

The way it's written. It's a bit...

What's the word?

- Queer.

- Thank you, Mr Auden.

What a boon to have a poet on hand.

- You can't send him back!

- Christopher.

No, no, God knows what they might do to him.

- Not my responsibility.

- An alien has no rights whatsoever

in this democracy we're all so proud of

that men have laid down their lives for.

And I hope, should the moment come, sir,

you too will be willing to make the sacrifice.

I shall appeal.

You can write to the Home Secretary

for all the good it'll do.

Come on.

As soon as I saw that rat,

I knew we were done for.

- They're all the bloody same.

- No, my dear. He's one of us. Stands out a mile.

I'm sorry.

You seem out of sorts.

Do I?

It's Heinz, isn't it?

Goodbyes are always sad.

As sad as dying.

I'll be seeing him soon enough.

- That's right.

- Yeah.

No need to be sad.

I suppose, being a writer,

you want to tidy everything up

and make it make sense.

But things never do quite make sense, do they?

Not really.

No.

This Sally Bowles character,

is she based on anyone?

Yes, in a manner of speaking.

What about Mr Norris?

Yes, I suppose he is too.

I thought we might first meet him on a train.

Oh, yes.

Trains are always good.

You can't go wrong with a train.

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