Chapter 5 – Peter's story
When they got back to the dance hall they looked at each other and grinned. They'd indeed mixed up their vests and ties, luckily not their pants.
Inside, the two bands were now playing together. A wonderful slow piece by Glenn Miller called "Serenade in Blue". Thomas hoped that the women wouldn't spy them coming in, or rather that they'd be on the dance floor already. Peter pulled him to an empty table at the back of the room. "One day we'll dance to 'Serenade in Blue' together, as well," he whispered into his lover's ear, putting his arm on the back of Thomas' chair. Thomas was tempted to rest his head on Peter's shoulder but of course he didn't do it. He just laid his hand on Peter's thigh since no one could see beneath the tablecloth.
They observed the musicians silently for a while; letting the music float through them.
"I wonder who that trumpet player is," Thomas said after another grand trumpet solo.
"Yeah, me too. Looks Spanish or Mexican or something like that."
After the piece was finished, Arvid stood, clearing his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it was a real pleasure for us to play for you." The crowd applauded wildly. "And because of several requests we'll be back next Saturday." That earned him even more applause and cheering. He smiled warmly and bowed. "To finish this evening in kind, here's 'Sing, Sing, Sing' by Luis Prima for you crazy lot." He sat and the joyful theme of the song was tickling everybody's feet instantly.
Peter and Thomas jumped up from their chairs immediately for that last dance. Sabina and Anna were already on the way towards them, unceremoniously taking their hands and urging them on to hurry onto the dance floor.
Again it was like one big party; everybody dancing with everybody. It didn't matter if men danced with men or women with women. The new and the old Swing Kids were just so happy to be able to dance again, to celebrate their love for the Swing music, to be free.
When the song was over, the musicians weren't allowed to leave the stage. They were pushed for yet another song from the cheering crowd and they obliged willingly; playing another very fast one of Arvid's own compositions.
After several encores the dancers finally let the bands off the hook, only with the promise to be back next Saturday precisely at seven.
Peter and Thomas were both smiling broadly when Willi and Marianne approached. Willi hugged his older brother briefly, "I see you both had fun."
"Thanks for the invitation, little brother. We'll be back next Saturday too." He pulled Thomas towards him.
"That Great A of yours has been a real nice surprise." Thomas added, slapping Willi on the shoulder.
"I thought so." Willi was pleased with himself. He'd had a very hard time keeping this particular secret. But it looked like it was worth it. "Arvid would like to meet you at the back entrance. I'll tell Mama that you won't be home soon. Have fun." And with that he and his girlfriend were swallowed by the leaving crowd.
Arvid and Helga were waiting for them. Both smiling.
Thomas' heart was thumping in his throat. He wanted to say so much but couldn't.
Helga must feel the same because she just hugged them both again tightly.
"Come." Arvid opened the door of the car that stood beside them.
"Wow." Peter sounded really stunned. "Yours?"
"Um…yeah," Arvid nodded and sat on the passenger seat. Helga was the driver.
After several awkward minutes with no traffic at all around them, Peter finally broke the silence. "So you're the Great A from the United States. Looks like you're quiet famous overthere?"
"Well, a bit." Arvid turned and grinned wickedly. Something he'd never done before. "Didn't Willi tell you anything?"
"No, he kept us in the dark until we would see ourselves tonight."
Arvid chuckled. "Awesome boy; your brother."
"Since when did he know?"
"Oh we've been in contact since the war is over. He found us via and ad in a newspaper. We wanted to see what's going on over here with our own eyes and announced a tour. He wrote to us. When we saw his name we hoped it would be your brother and we wrote back. " Helga replied.
"Arvid…" Thomas suddenly spoke, he just had to get it out or he'd burst. "I'm…do you forgive me? I was such an idiot back then."
"Thomas." Arvid swallowed and turned in his seat again. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't forgiven you." He looked at Thomas intensely. "Do you forgive me? I've said stupid things as well."
They arrived in just that moment and all got out of the car. Thomas and Arvid met in the middle of the sidewalk and suddenly hugged fiercely. "Yes, of course. I do forgive you. You didn't say anything that terrible."
"You boxing for me; I'm still impressed about that. I know I didn't appreciate it very much at the time. When I thought it over again, it was such a brave thing to do. Thanks."
"Guys, please it's cold. Can't we go upstairs and discuss everything in a more comfortable environment?" Helga's teeth chattered.
The small hotel at the border of the town was one of the few buildings that survived the bombings intact. Everything looked clean inside, and it was warm.
Helga led the way up the stairs with Peter, Thomas and Arvid following slowly.
Peter thought of something while climbing the stairs.
"Quiz time, Arvid. How was your English over there?
Arvid scrunched his face. "Terrible. They didn't understand a word I was saying! Luckily I understood them, so I worked determinedly on my pronunciation, and after a while, we managed pretty good."
They arrived at the door of the band's quarters. Helga opened and a whole flat was revealed to them. It looked very comfortable and bigger then it did from the outside.
Otto and the trumpet player were already there, setting the table with glasses, a bottle of wine, plates and with a big kettle.
Otto came over to greet his old friends properly, embracing Peter for a while, then hugging Thomas, asking if everything was okay with him and Arvid and Thomas nodded.
"Hey guys, I think we forgot something important." Arvid laid his hand onto the trumpet player's shoulder. "I'd like to introduce to you our magician with the trumpet. This is Nestor Castillo."
"Nestor, please meet Peter Mueller and Thomas Berger." The young men shook hands.
"You're a magician with that trumpet of yours indeed." Thomas said with much appreciation in his voice.
"Muchas gracias." The smaller man said shyly. He was very handsome; slender, dark brown eyes, black curls.
"Please take a seat." Helga waved them over towards the table. She opened the lid of the kettle and a wonderful smell reminded Peter and Thomas that they hadn't eaten properly in days. Thomas's stomach was growling loudly and he blushed immediately. "Sorry about that."
"No, it's okay. Please eat as much as you want. We brought more and Nestor here is an excellent cook." Helga filled their plates with, what they learned later, was called Chili. It was an unknown meal for them, but they loved it anyway.
They ate in silence; Peter and Thomas trying not to show how hungry they really were. It was so difficult to get enough food these days.
After the meal Arvid stood, took his glass, and led them over into the living room. "Please get more comfortable."
Peter had a look around, taking in all the exquisite furniture, gasping, "Looks like you've made it, Arvid. You rich now?" There was no jealousy at all in his voice. It was only a statement.
"Well," Arvid replied lowly, "Lets just say we got luckier then we deserved to be." He limped over to the gramophone.
"You're the nameless foreign donator for the Café Bismarck, are you?" The fact just occurred to Thomas, when he let himself fall into the soft cushions of the couch.
Arvid said nothing, but Helga winked at Thomas and nodded proudly.
"I'm so relieved you're alive," Thomas muttered under his breath, pulling Peter down beside him.
"You have to thank Otto and Helga for that," Arvid answered just as low. "But I like to not think back about those terrible days." He put the needle onto the record and a very familiar, slow, but not sad, melody filled the room. He grabbed Helga around the waist and actually started dancing with her. She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. It didn't even look like Arvid wasn't able to dance and he changed the subject. "I thought after all the Swinging we all could use some more relaxing music."
Peter and Thomas leaned against each other. It was the "Serenade in Blue" again. The music was intoxicating and very tempting. But they just couldn't dance together to a slow piece like this that was yearning to show all the love one was feeling.
Then, the odd thing happened. Otto came into the room, walking slowly towards Nestor who stood by the window, and Otto bowed slightly, whispering in English, "May I have this dance, Senor?" And Nestor accepted with a radiant smile, curling his arms around Otto's neck and pulling the taller man's head downwards. They both started to dance in the same way as Arvid and Helga did.
Thomas and Peter stared at each other. Then Peter stood and did the same, bowing and asking Thomas for this dance. Thomas sighed. Either they knew about their relationship from Willi or this was a pure accident, that Otto and Nestor had a relationship as well. There was no doubt about it now, because they were kissing.
"Come here." Peter whispered and pulled Thomas as close as he could. They snuggled into each others arms and held tight, only their legs moving to the beautiful song. After a few moments Thomas just didn't care anymore, knowing he was among friends and he captured Peter's lips with his, his tongue sneaking into Peter's inviting mouth, greeted instantly by Peter's soft tongue. They kissed through the whole song and completely forgot where they were.
In the middle of the next song Peter broke the kiss and Thomas noticed that he was sobbing silently but trying to hide it by burying his nose into Thomas' hair. Peter suddenly started to tremble violently and made a mad dash to what he hoped was the bathroom. Thomas went straight after him, so did Helga.
Peter knelt in front of the toilet and threw up like someone was tearing his guts out. Thomas helplessly kept stroking his back, muttering comforting words. Nothing like that had ever happened before since they were reunited one year back.
Helga got a wet towel and held it against Peter's forehead. He very slowly calmed down, sitting back on his heels, murmuring "I'm so sorry," again and again.
"It's all right, Peter." Helga and Thomas helped him up. She reached for his face, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and gave him a glass of water to drink. "Better?" she asked after he greedily drank it. Peter nodded wordlessly. Thomas moved him to the sofa. They sat, and Thomas guided Peter's head to rest on his thigh. Peter buried his face in Thomas' hip, breathing heavily in and out.
Helga explained in a whisper to the others, "He's in some kind of shock. I guess he's survived something he can't speak of."
Thomas was shaking. He swallowed back tears, but didn't succeed. Peter was gripping his shirt so hard, he feared it may tear in half. Helga's words made Thomas aware of the fact, that Peter never told him what really happened in the concentration camp. Thomas weaved his fingers gently through Peter's thick hair, trying to calm him down somehow, whispering, "It's going to be all right." And "I love you," into Peter's ear in turn.
The other three men sat clueless, but full of concern. Even Nestor, who didn't know Peter at all.
After what seemed like an eternity, Peter turned on his back, staring at the ceiling, grabbing one of Thomas' hands and begun to speak in a strangely distant voice. "They tried to starve me… They didn't let me sleep for days…" He made a strangled sound. "If…if it hadn't been for your father, Otto, I'd be dead." Peter pulled Thomas' head down and kissed him so hard, it took both their breath away. "Herr Schumler and the secret resistance of the camp smuggled me out when I was already half dead."
Thomas wanted to pull his own hair out. He was the cause of Peter being sent there. Thomas wanted to jump up and run and run and run until he'd pass out. He hated himself so much.
How could that happy evening turn in such a tragedy?
"All the joy and the excitement and the effort of the dancing, and later the too big meal must have triggered his reaction." Helga tried to explain through the scary silence.
Peter slowly sat and Thomas got up instantly but Peter held his wrist, pulling him down again. He only said, "No." holding Thomas to his side. "It was not your fault." And in front of all of them he turned Thomas' face towards him and said in a very exhausted but steady voice, "I'm in love with you, Thomas. Nothing that happened before, and in the war, was your fault. Can we please not speak about Nazi stuff ever again? I want to cut it out of my brain." He kept stroking Thomas' cheek. Thomas nodded, "I promise." He swallowed, took Peter's face in his hands and then again their mouths met.
TBC