Perfectly Ordinary People(90)

‘Just what, Dan?’

‘It’s just your dad,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to imagine . . . Can you? Imagine?’

‘His reaction, you mean? When he finds out he’s Jewish?’

‘Well, yeah!’

‘You’re assuming he doesn’t know then?’

‘Aren’t you?’ Dan asked.

I shrugged. ‘Can he not know something like this? I just don’t see it.’

‘Sure. But then again, if he knew, could he still say the things he says?’

‘Well, quite,’ I said. ‘Either way, it’s crazy.’

Dan’s smile faded. He exhaled and wrinkled his nose. ‘Isn’t it though?’ he said. ‘Isn’t it just a bit too crazy?’

‘You think it might not be true?’

Dan shrugged.

‘There’s a lot of detail in there,’ I pointed out. ‘And it all seems pretty accurate. The stuff about Alsace and everything . . .’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Dan said. ‘Did you learn this stuff at school, then? Because I don’t think we did.’

I shook my head. ‘But I’ve read a lot of historical fiction. I have to.’

‘Yeah,’ Dan said, then, with meaning, ‘Fiction.’

‘Do you really think that?’

He shook his head vaguely. ‘I don’t know. I mean, just . . . maybe do a search for it on the worldwide web before you say anything to your dad. See if there are records of any of this . . . check she didn’t copy it all from some book.’

‘From a novel, you mean? You think she could have just lifted the whole story from somewhere else and changed the names?’

‘Or maybe she was mad. We just don’t know her that well, do we? She could have been, like, really nasty, or something. Or so offended by your dad’s anti-Semitism she decided to fuck with his head.’

‘It crossed my mind that it could have been a sort of fantasy. But—’

‘Yes, you see. That’s what I mean. It’s not necessarily absolute truth.’

‘But I don’t think so. It’s pretty convincing.’

‘I still think you should check.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, thoughtfully. ‘The first thing would be to see if that magazine . . . Gai Pied or whatever – see if it really exists.’

‘They might have published the interview if it’s true,’ Dan said. ‘How long did you say it is?’

‘Oh, it’s massive. Way too long to be a magazine piece.’

‘You see?’ Dan said. ‘That’s dodgy.’

‘Yes, I know. But if you’d read it, you’d see. It reads like an interview that’s sort of turned into something else as they were doing it because she had so much to tell. And she says something about it being part of a series, so there will have been other interviews. Shorter ones.’

Dan nodded and pushed his lips out. ‘OK. But definitely check the magazine exists before you tell your dad, that’s all I’m saying. Maybe even speak to the journalist if she’s around.’

‘Now that,’ I said, ‘is an excellent idea.’

Dan checked his watch so I told him, ‘It’s OK, you can leave. I just needed to tell someone. Actually, that’s not true. I needed to tell you.’

‘It’s fine,’ Dan said, brushing the crumbs from his lips and standing. ‘I’m flattered. But I really do have to go.’

‘Oh, before you do,’ I said. ‘You know the flat next door? I think we should make an offer on it.’

Dan finished pulling on his coat and then froze. ‘Where’s this coming from?’ he asked. ‘You were all angsty about it after the visit.’

‘I don’t know, really,’ I said. ‘I’m just thinking that . . . well, we can afford it. And it would be big enough. And one day it could even be lovely. And I feel as if . . . I don’t know . . . It seems like a sign, doesn’t it? The flat coming free next door at a good price . . . And I feel like a spoilt kid, you know, sort of stamping my feet and saying, “No, mister universe. That’s still not good enough.”’

Dan raised one eyebrow, revealing that he thought I was being bizarre, which undoubtedly I was. But then he said, ‘OK, whatever, I’ll phone the bank and see. That’s the first step, anyway. To see if they’ll lend on that property.’

It was only after he’d left, as I sat staring at the rain running down the window, that the origin of my change of heart came to me. It had been seeded while I’d been reading about that tiny stone hut in the forest.

It had crossed my mind how spoilt we are, having never known war or suffering or even hunger. That’s certainly the case for many of us in the West, at any rate, but we complain all the same. I’d imagined my grandparents living – hiding – in that freezing mountain hut with no bathroom and no electricity, and I’d thought, Honestly what are we like?

A new thought popped up then. If all of this was true, were Genny and Chris even my grandparents? And then another thought that required a quick call to Dan before he vanished into the depths of the Underground.

‘Dan! If Dad was Jewish, would that mean Jake and I are too?’

‘Hum,’ Dan said. ‘Not sure. But I think it goes by the mother. The phone’s gonna cut out soon, by the way. I’m already in the train.’