Free The Runaway Family by Diney Costeloe

stuffed into a brown paper bag.”
    “And he just accepted this? It was his firm; you told me he founded the firm.” Ruth was incredulous. “And he let them simply throw him out?”
    Herbert let out a shuddering sigh. “What else could he do? Wait to be manhandled out of the building? They were already changing the locks on the doors as I followed him out.”
    “You followed him out?” repeated Ruth.
    Herbert gave a mirthless laugh. “You don’t think they’d keep me on once he’d gone, do you? I was at my desk as he passed my door, and within two minutes Herr Hartmann was in the room, saying, ‘Out, Friedman! We don’t want your sort here either!’ I sat there staring at him, because I didn’t know then what had happened to Herr Durst.
    “I must have looked very stupid, because he crossed over to the desk and put his face right down next to mine and spoke very slowly and distinctly as if I was an idiot. ‘Get out of this office, Friedman, and don’t come back.’”
    “What did you say?”
    “I didn’t know what to say. He simply turned away saying, as he walked out of the door, ‘Collect your wage packet from Fräulein Weiss. You’re lucky to get it.’ I was still too shocked to move, I just stared at him and then he said, ‘And if you’re still here in five minutes’ time, you won’t be paid!’”
    “Did you get it?” Ruth asked anxiously. “Did they pay you what they owed?” Her own money had dwindled to almost nothing, and would have run out long ago if Herbert hadn’t given her housekeeping money… the money he no longer paid Frau Schultz.
    “Yes, they’ve paid me to the end of the week. It’s not much.”
    “But if you left so early, where have you been since?” wondered Ruth.
    “When I’d collected my money from Fräulein Weiss, I went after Herr Durst. He was outside in the street, looking up at the office building as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. We were hardly out of the door before we saw someone not only changing the locks on the front door, but replacing the brass plate beside it.”
    “The brass plate?”
    “With the name of the firm. As from today the firm has a new name. Hartmann and Weber.” Herbert shook his head sadly. “This must all have been planned for some time,” he went on. “How else would they have had the new nameplate ready? When I came out, Herr Durst looked across at me and said, ‘You too, Friedman? I’m sorry about that. No Jews allowed.’ ‘What will you do now, sir?’ I asked him.”
    “What did he say?”
    “He said, ‘Perhaps set up on my own again, and deal only with Jewish clients. Let’s face it,’ he said, ‘there are plenty of Jews who need my help just now.’ ‘Will you have work for me?’ I asked him. ‘I need a job too.’ He said, ‘Come and have a drink and we’ll talk about it.’”
    “So that’s where you’ve been.” Ruth sounded relieved.
    “We went to a bar where Herr Durst is known, and they did serve us, but it was clear they overcharged us. When I said as much to Herr Durst, he said that it had been so for some time now, but that it meant he could still buy a drink there if he wanted to.”
    “So, did he give you a job?”
    “No. He gave me advice.” Herbert fell silent.
    “What?” demanded Ruth at last. “What did he say?”
    “He said I should get out while I could.”
    “Get out?” echoed Ruth. “Get out of where?”
    “Germany. He said I was single and that it would be easy for me to leave now, but he thought things were going to get much worse. That the time would come when it would be too late. Jews wouldn’t be allowed to leave.”
    “And is he going to get out?” enquired Ruth.
    “No,” answered Herbert, “but he has a family, it’s not so easy for him simply to up sticks and go.”
    “Exactly! He has family! You’d think he would be trying to get them out as soon as he can.”
    “He said he’d thought of it,” Herbert said, “but he’s not sure it’s