Beyond the Storm. Diana Finley

the attention of Count Bessendorf’s beautiful youngest daughter Adele in the past, as well showing interest in Mitzi von Kahldorf, whose father had accumulated fabulous riches through international dealing in gold and diamonds.

      The Kassel family was decent enough it was true – Julia’s father an esteemed lawyer – but nevertheless, Paulina couldn’t help feeling a lingering sense of disappointment. She was concerned that in their reduced circumstances after the untimely death of Rudolf’s father, her son needed to take advantage of the best opportunities and connections available. It was hardly a time to marry for love! How helpful a clever businessman like Herr von Kahldorf could have been to a son-in-law’s career.

      But Rudolf, who had himself trained as a lawyer, wanted nothing more than to join Jakob Kassel’s practice. He had no sense that this might have been beneath his capabilities. He even talked of wanting to represent the legal needs of the poor. Paulina realised it was time to have a serious talk with her son.

      ‘Rudolf, you are a young man with strong principles, and of course that is very admirable. But a social conscience is a luxury you really cannot afford, my darling. No, I wish you would think more of ambition, of what you can achieve – especially with a little help.’

      Rudolf, always closely attuned to his mother’s feelings, was aware of her lack of enthusiasm for his marriage to Julia and it saddened him. He hoped in time she would discover Julia’s virtues – that she was sensitive and gentle, thoughtful and clever. He would not be talked out of his marriage plans.

      The newly-weds settled into a fine, spacious apartment in the centre of Vienna, only five minutes’ walk from Paulina’s home. Of course, it was not a distance Paulina ever considered walking herself: there were carriages for that. The tall windows of their apartment looked out over the green expanse of the Stadtpark, where Rudolf and Julia often strolled on fine Sundays.

      Rudolf worried that his mother would be lonely following their marriage, but Julia was adamant about the importance of living independently. She understood Rudolf’s concern – as the only son – for his mother’s welfare, but she also knew that her mother-in-law was a forceful personality, who could quite easily dominate their lives. She visited Paulina regularly for coffee, and Paulina came for dinner with the young couple twice a week. Rudolf was pleased to observe a growing friendship between the two women.

      Paulina prided herself on her good taste. She enjoyed discussing her ideas for colour schemes and soft furnishings for the apartment with Julia. Julia, who was secretly indifferent to her domestic environment, preferring to read or play the piano, was happy to allow Paulina a free hand with such decisions. Sometimes Paulina asked Julia to accompany her to one or other of her friends’ homes. Sometimes, on warm days, they went for a carriage ride in the Ring Boulevard. Paulina encouraged her daughter-in-law to wear the outfits she had chosen for her on these expeditions. After all, one never knew who one might encounter.

      Occasionally Julia invited her own mother and Paulina to come to tea together. Julia was irritated by Paulina’s magnanimous and kindly manner towards her mother, as if generously bestowing attention upon an inferior, but she bit her tongue and made no comment. While Julia’s mother dressed with careful effort and some anxiety for these occasions, Paulina’s entire wardrobe was flawlessly fashionable and sophisticated.

      ‘My dear Frau Kassel, how pretty you look in your flowered muslin. Like a breath of fresh country air!’

      Paulina’s tall, imposing figure moved from room to room, silk petticoats rustling like a soft breeze playing among the leaves in the trees. She glided so gracefully her feet appeared to be raised just a fraction above the floor by some unseen force. Julia’s father Jakob nicknamed her ‘The Countess’. It was a name of which Paulina would have approved.

      Rudolf and Julia’s marriage was one of fondness and companionship rather than great passion. This appeared to suit both of them. Rudolf progressed steadily in his career and gained a reputation for competence and reliability. Julia had time and freedom to pursue her own interests of painting and music. Together they enjoyed the theatre and concerts, and yearly holidays at the Baltic or in Italy, accompanied by Paulina.

      The years passed and in 1910, just as they began to consider themselves on the verge of middle age, Julia discovered to everyone’s surprise and delight that she was pregnant. Her slight body grew enormous and, on a warm spring night, healthy twin boys were born. Rudolf and Julia were overjoyed. They named one baby Paul to honour his paternal grandmother, and the other Jakob after Julia’s father. Paulina was astounded to find herself a grandmother, but she entered into the role with enthusiasm. Following the birth, she moved into her son and daughter-in-law’s apartment.

      ‘Just while the babies are so tiny. You must concentrate on caring for them, my dear Julia. And of course, you need rest. I will run the household for you.’

      Julia made occasional protests to Rudolf, but they both knew Paulina was there to stay. She ruled all domestic aspects of the home. Within weeks the cook was making outraged representations to Julia.

      ‘She dislikes the recipes I have used these many years, Frau Wiener. She tells me the dumplings are too heavy and that I overcook the meat. I cannot work like this.’

      A new cook was engaged who understood Paulina’s requirements and agreed to her regime from the start. Paul and Jakob’s nursemaid and the housemaid knew better than to argue with her rulings.

      ‘Make sure the boys have their woollen hats on unless the weather is hot, in which case they must wear their cotton sun bonnets. And see to it that their ears are always tucked back. We don’t want children with bat ears.’

      ‘Of course, Gnädige Frau.’

      The little boys grew up secure in the knowledge that all three adults in their home worshipped them, but they learned that it was their grandmother who was the real force to be reckoned with. Paulina supervised every aspect of their lives: what they should eat and at what time, when they should go to bed or take a nap, how much fresh air and exercise they needed.

      Julia took great pleasure in playing with the children and reading to them. When they were four or five, she taught them to read and began to teach them the piano. Rudolf spent an hour or so playing with Paul and Jakob when he returned from work, enjoying a little lively fun, and rough and tumble. Paulina approved of this for a time – she could deny little to her beloved Rudolf, and she believed growing boys needed the more robust intervention of a father – but at six o’clock precisely she summoned the nursemaid to give the children their bath and calm them down, ready for bed.

      The boys were clever and diligent. They progressed well at the small private school they attended, for which Paulina paid. Paul and Jakob were not identical but, like many twins, they were very close. Of the two, Paul seemed the more light-hearted and sociable, while Jakob was a serious, emotional child. Paul had many friends. He was always at the centre of a large group, keeping the others entertained with his clowning. Jakob had a small number of close friends to whom he was fiercely loyal. Both boys mixed freely with both Jewish and Christian children. Jakob’s best friend, Fritz Henkelmann, was from a Roman Catholic family.

      In 1923, when the boys were thirteen, tragedy struck the family. Rudolf, like his father before him, had a sudden heart attack at his desk and died at the age of fifty-five. Bereavement affected Paulina and Julia differently. Distraught at the loss of her treasured only son at such a young age, Paulina determined to focus all her love and caring on her two precious grandsons. Grief galvanised her into action. Julia, on the other hand, appeared broken down, despondent, almost indifferent to anything life might still have had to offer. If she previously lacked assertiveness, she was now distinctly passive.

      While Paulina became stronger, Julia grew weaker. In this way, the personalities of the two women complemented each other and paradoxically they grew closer. The first hurdle to be faced was a sudden and extreme reduction in income. Rudolf was an intelligent and resourceful lawyer, but an impractical businessman. His affairs were in a poor state. He had not ensured the financial or material security of his family. Paulina and Julia ploughed through files of bills and receipts, and boxes of accounts, all in Rudolf’s impenetrable and spidery handwriting.