I am lying down on Opa’s big old wooden bed, looking through an old exercise book of mine from primary school. I am reading "What I did for my Summer Holidays, by Paul Kessler."

"What I did for my summer holidays was go to West Germany with my Mum and Dad and brother to visit my Grandad who lives there and we go there every year to see him and stay at his house which is in a place called Bad Kummelheim which is a long way away and you go on some trains and a boat and it takes us a long time to get there. We call Grandad "Opa" because that is what you call your Grandad if he is German. We got on the train in Liverpool and went to Harwich which is on the other side of the country and it took ages and ages and we all sat round a little table and had sandwiches and crisps and pop and played cards and looked out of the window and watched all the people get on and off the train at all the stations until we got to Harwich very late at night and dark and past my normal bedtime when we got all our suitcases which were all the same yellowy colour but different sizes and got on the big boat and gave the tickets to the sailor man at the door and went to our room which is called a cabin that has no windows and tried out our beds which are called bunk beds and what go on top of each other and my brother always goes on the top because he is bigger than me and my Dad always goes on top of my Mum because he is bigger than her because the biggest one always goes on the top of the bunk bed. And when we had put our things away we went for an explore around the boat and went outside which is called the deck and the boat was going up and down but not up and down too much then we went to play with some fruit machines and my big brother who is called Francis won ten pence because he got three cherries all in a line but I spent all the money my Dad gave me because I didn’t win anything because I didn’t get any pictures all in a line. And after we all had something to eat and drink and talked about Opa we were all really really tired because it was really really late at night and I was the tiredest because I am the smallest and we all went to bed in our cabin and I listened to the funny sound of the boat and felt the funny moving feelings of the boat going up and down on the sea but I didn’t do that for long because I fell asleep and the next thing my Mum was waking me up saying that it was morning and we were nearly there and we had to get up and get ready to carry on to Opa’s. And then we went to the toilet and had a wash along the corridor and then we got dressed and then we went for our breakfast which had proper waiters and posh white tablecloths and posh knives and forks and we ate loads of eggs and bacon and sausage and toast and jam and orange juice and tea and we were all really full at the end. And then it was time to get off the boat at the Hook of Holland which is not in Germany it is in Holland but you have to go there first before you can get to Germany and you need to get from there to Germany by getting some more trains. And we all got on the train at the Hook of Holland and my Dad was scared that he had lost the tickets because he was supposed to be in charge of the tickets and passports and things but couldn’t find them but then he did find them and we all got on the train. After ages and ages and two more trains we got to the place where Opa lives in West Germany which is called Bad Kummelheim. And then we got in a big taxi outside the station and went to his house which wasn’t very far and Opa was happy to see us and we were happy to see him and Mum and Dad gave him a parcel from out of the biggest suitcase with tea bags and marmalade and the kinds of sweets and things that they can’t buy in Germany and Opa gave me and my brother some money and said some things to us but we didn’t know what he was saying because we only speak English and he only speaks German and we couldn’t understand but Dad knows how to speak to Opa because he is his Dad. My Mum tries to speak German as well but she can’t really say anything properly because she is from England and only really knows how to speak English which is how she talks to Dad because Dad can speak English but Mum can’t speak German. Opa’s house is really big and he used to live there with my Grandma who we called "Oma" because that is what you call your Grandma if she is German but Oma is dead so we only visit Opa now but we used to visit both of them. It isn’t like our house in England because all the rooms and things look different and it has a funny smell but I like it and I like Opa even though he is old and I don’t know what he is saying and he is poorly. My Mum and Dad sleep in a bedroom at the bottom of the house and me and my brother sleep in a room right at the top of the house up loads of stairs and because the toilet is so far away we have a funny potty thing in our room which we don’t like but it is there in case we can’t hold on till the morning. On our holiday which was for three weeks we went for lots of days out and went just on our own just me and my brother and my Mum and Dad because Opa stayed at home because he is old and poorly and he didn’t want to go out for day trips. We went all round Bad Kummelheim on different days and saw all the things that you can see in the town. My Dad says it is isn’t called Bad because it is a bad place but it is called Bad because it is a spa town which means it has special water under the ground which makes people better when they are poorly and there is a big park in the town where all the people go to drink the special water and we always go to the park to drink the water but it tastes horrible and I didn’t want to drink it and my brother didn’t want to drink it either but my Mum made us drink it and it was horrible. Opa is poorly but I have never seen him drink the water so maybe he should drink it to make him better. And in the park they have these funny big tall wooden things where the special water gets sprayed out into the air and the people stand around breathing in the spray because it is supposed to be good for you and it smells a bit like the sea. So one day we went to see that and breathed in the special air and then one day we went to the swimming baths which are outside but it isn’t cold because the sun is always shining and it is nice and hot and you have to wear a rubber cap on your head when you go in the baths and you are not allowed to go in the baths without the rubber cap because of germs in your hair or something and everyone looks a bit silly but you have to wear the cap if you want to go in the baths so we put our caps on that the people at the baths gave us and we went for a swim. And then one day we went to play crazy golf which is in a different park and it is a really good crazy golf course and better than the crazy golf you get in England and I like playing it and you get a piece of paper and a little pencil to put your scores on and I was good at it and nearly won. And then on other days we went on days out to other towns on the bus or the train and did nice things. And we went to lots of cafes and restaurants and ate lots of German food that you can’t eat in England and lots of German drinks that you can’t drink in England and I liked eating and drinking them. And we went to lots of different shops to buy food and things for Opa and I liked all the supermarkets because they are different from in England and sell different things. Opa likes German sausage and he likes to cut them into slices with a little knife and eat the slices all day and the smell of the sausage is all over the house. Opa likes to sit in his rocking chair eating his sausage and he likes eating plums as well which grow in his garden and they are funny plums because they are yellow which are different from any of the plums I have seen in England because the plums in England are purple but I like the yellow plums better. At nights there was not much to do apart from sitting around watching Mum and Dad and Opa talking but sometimes we watched the telly but the telly programmes were no good and I couldn’t understand them anyway because they were not in English so we didn't watch the telly very much but we sometimes played games instead which was good. The best thing we did at night was go to see the big funfair which came to the town and had big rides that we went on and even a ride where we went upside down but my Mum didn’t go on that one because she was a bit scared so me and my brother and my Dad went on it and it was really good. And there were lots of people and sounds and lights and colours and smells and things to eat and drink and at the end before they put everything away and went to the next town they had a massive fireworks display which was brilliant and we all liked that but Opa didn’t come because he was poorly and Dad says that we might not be able to come back to Germany on holiday if Opa carries on getting more poorly and that we should enjoy ourselves because this might be the last holiday in Germany that we have so we did enjoy ourselves and that is what I did for my summer holidays."

I close the old school book and put it down next to me on the bed.

This is the first time I have been inside this house for about ten, maybe twelve, years.

We came back to Germany two months ago for Opa’s funeral. Not to Bad Kummelheim but to Cologne, where his family was from. We never came back to Germany on holiday. Mum hadn’t wanted to come back, because of Opa’s health. Dad came to visit every now and again, but it was those ten years before Opa finally gave up and died.

I have been lying on the bed for about ten minutes. I have been in the house for about half an hour. I have been in Bad Kummelheim for about four hours, having flown into Frankfurt and taken the train the rest of the way.

The train. I looked out of the window, shielding my eyes from the sun as the train chased the river. I wondered why the water was so red. Almost as red as those sweaty vinyl train seats. I decided that it had something to do with soil being washed into it. I wondered why hardly anyone was on this train. I wondered whether that sleeping man a few rows down the carriage should have got off at a previous stop.

An announcement for the next stop. I got my stuff together. The train slowed. The train stopped. Bad Kummelheim. I was the only one getting off. The station looked exactly as it did when I was a kid.

I passed through the station concourse, pausing at the kiosk to buy a Mars bar. I also decided to buy a German football magazine for Francis as a souvenir. He likes that sort of thing. I also admired the impressive range of porno mags on display.

I stepped into the afternoon heat. I looked out onto the square and ate my Mars bar. I noticed that it tasted slightly different to an English Mars bar. I decided that it was nicer. I studied the wrapper closely and tried to make sense of it. The thought that perhaps I should keep this wrapper as a souvenir almost entered my head. As there was no bin nearby, I stuffed the wrapper in my pocket. A taxi driver grunted something at me but was ignored as I walked across to the café by the fountains.

I took a seat at one of the tables outside, in the shade. Quite a few of the other tables were occupied, mainly by pairs of middle-aged women. The water from the fountains was leaping about. Beyond the fountains, cars and buses went by. A waiter arrived at my table. I decided that I should have a beer. Then I changed my mind, in view of the business ahead. Flashing back to childhood, I asked for a Sinalco. The Sinalco came straight away. Something didn’t look right with it. It didn’t have a straw in it like I used to get. He’d given me a glass instead. And there were no wasps buzzing around it.

I was sitting there because I had some time to kill before my appointment with the notary. The notary who would hand over the keys to Opa’s old house. Opa left the house to Dad, his only child. I’m here to sort out the house because Dad’s not really up to it at the moment and Mum needs to stay with him, and its not like I have anything better to do with my time right now.

I took a sip of the Sinalco. I decided that it didn’t taste as nice as it used to. I decided to get normal cola next time. I glanced down at my suit. The suit that I had worn only twice before, once for my graduation ceremony last month, and once for Opa’s funeral the month before that. I hadn’t realised that it would get so creased on the journey. I noticed a small stain on my tie. I hadn’t noticed it before. It didn’t seem fresh enough to be from this morning’s in-flight meal. I decided that it was from the meal we had after the graduation ceremony. I did my best to remove it by rubbing a bit of spit on it. I began to wonder whether it was such a good idea to wear a suit for this. I decided that it probably was a good idea to dress smartly.

I finished my drink, paid and left the café. I headed towards a phone box that I had spotted on the corner of the square. I stopped and poked around in my pockets to gather up all my German coins. I found the crumpled Mars wrapper and stared at it. I looked at the bin that I was standing next to. Then I looked again at the wrapper. I flattened out the wrapper and put it back in my pocket.

I squeezed myself and my rucksack into the phone booth. The door wouldn’t close properly because of the rucksack. It was quite noisy in there because of the traffic. I wasn’t sure how long I would get for the few Deutschmarks I had. I rang Mum.

"Mum, can you hear me? Its Paul."
"Who is this?"
"It’s me. Paul. I’m here."
"Are you there yet?"
"I’ve just got off the Train."
"Where are you?"
"Bad Kummelheim! Near that cafe by the fountains."
"Where?"
"In front of the station."

A dog came up to the phone booth, looked at me and decided not to piss on the glass. It wandered off, pausing to glance back over its shoulder, while Mum quizzed me.

"Have you been to the house yet? What kind of state is it in?"
"No. I’ve just got here."
"Have you not been to see the lawyer, the rotary or whatever he’s called?"
"Notary. Not yet. I’m early."
"Why don’t you just go anyway? You need to get the keys. Why don't you just go and get them now instead of waiting around?"
"I can’t do that. I have to wait for my appointment. Anyway, it's not that long to wait. How’s Dad?"
"Not bad. He’s asleep. Shall I wake him up?"
"No, no."
Mum sighed.
"Have you been to that restaurant we used to go to near the Marktplatz, with that funny waiter with the scar and the limp? I wonder if he’s still working there. No, he can’t be, he’s probably about 60 by now. Have you-"
"Mum!"
"What?"
"I haven’t been anywhere. I’ve just got here! Look, I’m going to run out of money in a second. Anyway, don’t worry, I’m here safely, I’ll get the keys and that all sorted and then check the house over. I’m about to get cut off. I’ll ring you later to let you know wha-"

End of call. Duty done.

I decided at that point that I should probably feel guilty about inviting Helen to come over. She was due to arrive tomorrow. Mum and Dad knew nothing about that of course. Things between Helen and I had been a bit crap since we left University. She stayed on in London with her parents. I had no choice but to go back to Liverpool, seeing as I’d got no job and no money. What we ended up with was a long-distance relationship involving occasional visits to each other’s parents’ houses and lots of sexual frustration. I was hoping that my new German love-nest would help sort things out. I decided I’d ring Helen later when I’d got some more change.

I walked down the main shopping street and along the river at the foot of the vineyards. All the same things seemed to be here, but everywhere and everything had got smaller and closer together. I followed a side street I didn’t recognise and came across a large old timber-framed house which contained a museum which I was sure we’d never been to. It seemed to be some kind of museum of the history of Bad Kummelheim. I went inside and checked it out. Displays of Roman pots, wine-making paraphernalia through the ages, bits and pieces from old medieval houses, the history of the spa, the re-emergence and redevelopment of the thriving modern town, etc, etc. I realised there was nothing at all about the war. Dad had told me that this was an important place during World War 2, that the Nazi leadership had set up some kind of temporary command centre here towards the end of the war, in the old town hall, which had eventually got bombed. I didn’t suppose the town wanted to advertise its wartime activities to tourists.

Not satisfied, and wanting some change, I bought a book from the museum gift shop which did at least seem to cover that period and had plenty of old photos in it. A souvenir for Dad.

Outside, I checked the map which Herr Meier, the notary, had provided, and headed off towards his office. I got there easily enough. It was just off one of the familiar shopping streets in the town centre. I was there 15 minutes before the appointed time. I decided to ring Helen from a nearby phone booth.

Her Mum answered and seemed surprised, if not confused, to hear from me. She shouted for Helen. Helen got to the phone. I told her about my journey and arrival. I asked her about her travel arrangements.

"So, are you all set for tomorrow?"
"Paul, I’m-"
"When does your flight get in? I hope you’ve allowed enough time to get down to the station, its quite a long trek and you’ll-"
"Paul, listen."
"What?"
"Paul, I’m not coming."
I heard a loud rushing noise inside my head.
"What? Why, what’s happened?"
"Nothing’s happened. I just don’t think it’s a good idea."
"What do you mean? We’ve got it all arranged."
"I don’t think there’s any point. I think maybe we’ve run out of steam."
I started blinking very fast and couldn’t seem to stop.
"What? What are you saying?"
"What I’m saying, Paul, is that I don’t think there’s any point in carrying on. Us. It’s just not working out, is it? It was great when we were at Uni, but everything has changed. This long-distance thing is just shit. You must see that."
"I know it’s shit. For now. But it won’t stay shit forever, I mean-"
"Won’t it? You said you would get a job in London and move down here. You said we could get a flat together, all of that. It’s not happening though, is it?"
"But it will, Helen. And this is a good chance for us to be together, just us. Like a holiday. It will be good for us. I thought this was what you wanted."
"Not any more. There’s no point. We’re just dying a slow death. Maybe its time to let go."
"But-"
I heard Helen’s Mum shouting to her in the background, that Greg was at the door for her. Greg? Who the hell was Greg?
"Helen?"
"Look, I’ve got to go."
"But you can’t just not come. What about your tickets?"
"I’ve got to go, Paul. I’m sorry."
"Helen!"

She put the phone down. Feeling faint, I placed the phone back gently in its cradle. A couple of coins dropped out of the slot but I ignored them and left the phone booth. I checked my watch and realised I had to see the notary.

Inside the office, it was all a bit of a blur. I introduced myself to the receptionist. I hardly noticed that she had probably the biggest blonde perm in Germany. She asked me for some ID and I showed her my passport. The sign on the door beside the counter said "Konrad J Meier". She called through to Meier on the phone. I spent a couple of minutes turning the pages of some women’s magazines. Meier collected me from the waiting room and took me through to his office. His greying moustache appeared to be wet just above his lip. I saw that the sleeves on his suit jacket were rolled up. Behind his desk was a large, framed photograph. In it, someone was shaking hands with a Bundesliga-era Kevin Keegan. I decided that it was a younger version of Herr Meier. There were also two women in the photo, one on either side of the men. I decided that they were the men’s wives. Kevin Keegan was looking very confused.

"So, Mr Kessler, I am very delighted to confirm that your father’s lawyer in Liverpool has provided to me all of the appropriate documentation that I am requiring to complete the legal transfer of the property on Heinrichstrasse to your father and also for the registration of the title deeds and the handing over of the keys to yourself as your father’s representative granted under the power of attorney."

I couldn’t believe she wasn’t coming. I couldn’t believe she had dumped me. Like that! Jesus!

"So, Mr Kessler, I simply require you to exercise your authority on behalf of your father to sign these documents and then the process will be completed."

Dumped me?! Why did she have to do it like that? On the phone, when I was out of the country!

"Mr Kessler?"
"Yes. Sorry."
He opened a folder on the desk, pushed forward various bits of papers and pointed to where I should sign, telling me various things I didn’t listen to. I did as he told me.
"So, Mr Kessler. All that remains is for you to receive the keys to the house."
From a safe in the corner of his office he took out a padded envelope with "24 Heinrichstrasse, Bad K" scribbled on it and handed it over to me.
"So Mr Kessler, these are the keys."

What would she have done if I hadn’t telephoned her? Just not turned up? Left me waiting at the station?

"If you would be so good as to sign this paper to confirm you are in receipt of the keys, Mr Kessler."
I looked down at the keys. I signed the form.
"So, that is all. Thank you, Mr Kessler."
"That’s it? Can I go there and get in right away? There is nothing else I need to do?"
"No, that is all, Mr Kessler. The house is yours."
"Right. Good. Thank you."
Meier wiped his moustache with his finger.
"Your grandfather was a fine gentleman, Mr Kessler. A fine gentleman. You can be proud."

I get up and leave. On the way out, the receptionist smiled cheerfully at me as I said goodbye. I wondered if she would have sex with me. I went back onto the street and found the nearest café. I took off my tie. I had a coffee and a piece of cake. I opened the envelope and looked at the keys. I decided not to ring my Mum until later. I kept forgetting, and then suddenly remembering, that I’d just been dumped.

I decided to go straight to the house. I decided to walk rather than getting a taxi. I didn’t need a map. I’d walked there loads of times. I went past the station, over the railway bridge and along the main road which headed out of town. I walked along for about 15 minutes. Every other shop seemed to be a pharmacy. Heinrichstrasse was on the right. Rows of elegant, four-story townhouses on both sides. No gardens at the front. Doors straight off the pavement. Halfway along was number 24. A four-storey detached townhouse. I realised that I had butterflies and my heart was beating fast.

The door had an ornate metal grill in front of it. I chose the most ornate looking key from the envelope. It opened the gate. My next choice of key was harder but I eventually got through the front door, which opened out into the large, square hallway. I was disappointed that the house didn’t smell of German sausage. It smelled of furniture polish, bleach and stale air freshener.

I put my rucksack down and walked around the house slowly, looking in each room. There was some furniture, but all of the cupboards and drawers seemed to be empty. I had no idea where their contents might be or who had taken them. The kitchen cupboards were all completely bare. In the bedrooms, the huge beds were there, but there was no bedding. I looked at the bed in the main bedroom and thought of Helen. Then I thought of Herr Meier’s receptionist. Then Helen again.

In the cellar, there were a large number of crates of some kind of fizzy orange drink. None of the bottles had labels on. I chose one at random and twisted open the lid. There were no bubbles. It was completely flat. I wondered how long these had been there and why no one had drunk them.

I went back up to the main house. In the hall, I looked at the place on the wall where the old photo of Opa in his military uniform used to hang. I went back into the main bedroom. I lay down on the bed. I stared at the ceiling. I didn’t know what to do. After a couple of minutes I decided to dig out my old school exercise book from my rucksack and read a very old essay about my childhood holidays here.

After finishing with the book, I sit up on the end of the bed. In the corner of my eye I notice a drawer slightly open. I can see something inside. I get up and walk over. I open the drawer. There is a tatty shoebox stuffed with old papers and photos. I take the box out of the drawer and put it on the bed. I have a look in it. I flick through the black and white photos. I decide that these belonged to Opa. They look like family snaps. Groups of adults and children in gardens and in front of landmarks. I don’t recognise anyone in them. None of them have Oma in them. Some of them are portraits of a young man. I decide that this young man is Opa.

I come to one photo that I recognise. It is a smaller version of the photo that used to hang on the wall. I look closely at it. It is a head and shoulders shot and he has a dark uniform on. There is something odd about the jacket. Something seems to have been crudely airbrushed from the lapels. I notice the next photo. It is exactly the same photo, but it has not been airbrushed. On the right lapel of Opa’s jacket is the ‘SS’ symbol. On the left lapel of Opa’s jacket are what seem to be four small dots or squares.

I suddenly remember somebody, somewhere, sometime, saying something about Opa and the war that I didn’t understand. I wonder what else is in this box. I wonder what this box is doing here. I wonder why it has not been taken away like everything else. I rifle through the folded papers and pull out a few sheets at random. They seem to be official documents of some kind. Something to do with the army. They have Opa’s name on them. There are official stamps all over them, including Nazi-looking symbols. There are also a couple of letters addressed to Opa. Unlike the other documents they are hand-written rather than typed. I have no idea what they say. I look at the signature on each one very closely. I decide that they are signed by Adolf Hitler.

I go over to the bedroom window. I pull back the net curtains. I try to open the window but it is stuck fast. I go to the kitchen. I drink some water from the palm of my hand. I try to open the kitchen window but it is stuck fast. I go back into the bedroom. Among the photographs is an envelope. I open the envelope. There is a handful of small black and white photos in it. I recognise the backgrounds in these photographs. I decide that the photos were taken at various locations around Bad Kummelheim a long time ago. In each photograph are two men. I decide that both men are wearing Nazi uniforms. In each photograph the men are looking at the camera, smiling. I look closely at the men in the photographs. I decide that the taller of the two men is Opa. I decide that the other man is Adolf Hitler.

I put the photographs back in the envelope. I put the envelope back in the box. I put the box back in the drawer. I close the drawer. I go to the bathroom. I drink some water from the palm of my hand. I try to open the bathroom window but it is stuck fast. I go back into the bedroom. I lie down on the bed. I stare at the ceiling.

I read my old school essay again. I decide that I need to get out of the house. I decide that I need to go back to the park we used to go to when I was a kid, for a game of crazy golf.

END