Flanigan´s Hotel E-Book

Christel Weingart

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 241

Beschreibung

In the year 1908 four families from East Frisia, which lies on the coast of northern Germany and close to the Dutch border, decide to emigrate to North America. They find a steam freighter in the harbour of Emden which takes them on board. After a rough crossing through the North Sea and a mysterious nightly stop somewhere along the Irish coast, the group, after crossing the Atlantic, arrives tired and weak one night at a dimly lit harbour and are made to disembark by order of the captain. They soon realise that they have not been dropped in the land of their dreams - America. A great adventure with unexpected ups and downs lies ahead of them.

Leseprobe

Christel Weingart worked for more than thirty years as a self-employed crafts woman in England, the South of France and Germany. Born in East Friesia, she loves the stories of that part of Germany, being one of a few people who speaks and writes in “Plattdeutsch” (Low German, one of the reconnised endangered languages in the world). She has written and published several short stories as well as novels in german and worked as a translator for Radio and Film. Since her retirement she lives and works near Berlin concentrating on novels and theatre plays.

Flanigan’s Hotel – The Story

In the year 1908 four families from East Frisia, which lies on the coast of northern Germany and close to the Dutch border, decide to emigrate to North America. They find a steam freighter in the harbour of Emden which takes them on board. After a rough crossing through the North Sea and a mysterious nightly stop somewhere along the Irish coast, the group, after crossing the Atlantic, arrives tired and weak one night at a dimly lit harbour and are made to disembark by order of the captain. They soon realise that they have not been dropped in the land of their dreams – America. A great adventure with unexpected ups and downs lies ahead of them.

All characters and actions in this book are fictitious. Resemblance to any real persons – living or deceased – is purely coincidental.

List of persons as they appear in the book:

East Friesia:

Viktoria Brendel

Spinster from Hannover

Dr. Brendel

Father of Viktoria, deceased

Elisabeth Reiners

Cousin of Viktoria

Uda Reiners

Daughter, 10 years old

Feemke Reiners

Daughter, 8 years old

Enno Reiners

Son, 4 years old

Harm Reiners

Husband, Farmer

Dirtje Bontjes

Maid of Reiners Family

Eske Bontjes

Mother

Johannes Bontjes

Brother

Ocko Bontjes

Brother, horse expert

Advocat Meyerdirks

Solicitor of Reiners Family

Jan Reiners

Brother of Harm, Groningerland

Hendrike Reiners

Wife of Jan

Wim Redenius

Captain of Freighter “Concordia”

Jan Janssen

Ship yard worker from Emden

Gerti Janssen

Wife

Emmi Janssen

Daughter, 14 years old

Hinnerk Frerichs

Fisher from Greetsiel

Sina Frerichs

Wife

Hajo Lammers

Boat builder from Timmel

Thalea Lammers

Wife

Freerk Lammers

Son, 10 years old

Newfoundland:

Edan Flanigan

Hotel Owner in St. Johns

Jim Flanigan

Husband

Pierre Leclerc

Police Constable

Dr. James Waldron

Doctor in Portgual Cove and Bell Island

Mabel

Maid on Bell Island

Patrick O’Leary

Fabric shop owner

Alec Morrison

Geologist on Bell Island

Mister O’Sullivan

Sweet shop owner

Jeremia Appleby

Sewing machine representative

Albertus Meiners

Prisoner in Halifax

Sometimes we just have to follow our dreams.

Contents

Part 1: East Frisia

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Part 2: Newfoundland

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Postface

Part 1

East Frisia

Chapter 1

Hannover, Spring 1908

The old man coughed nervously and stepped from one leg to the other.

“Excuse me, Miss Brendel. We are ready. Everything is packed and the carriage is waiting. You’ll have to go now otherwise you’ll miss the train. Time to say good-bye.”

Viktoria turned and looked at the old man. He had been part of her life since childhood. She would dearly miss him. “Oh Jakob, only one more moment, please. I want to go through the empty house one more time to say good-bye to the place. I won’t be long. Please go ahead.”

Viktoria saw him shrug his shoulders and turn. As she walked from room to room, looking at the walls with the faded wallpapers and the ceilings with decorative plaster work, she felt sadness and relief at the same time. Suddenly she turned back to the entrance. This was already history. The house was sold. This chapter of her life here in Hannover was definitely over. She promised herself not to fret and look to the future instead. This would make life easier. She stepped outside into a bright, spring morning and pulled the door closed firmly. Four steps led down to the garden and gravelled drive.

Jakob Steinbach stood by the carriage and opened the door as she approached. She hated good-byes, especially today when she parted forever and would never see this faithful servant of her father again. How long had he been part of her household? She couldn’t remember. He always had been there when he was needed. She took his wrinkled hands into hers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you for everything. Thank you so much for all your help during the last weeks and months. I wish you all the best for your retirement. You more than deserve a rest now. As soon as I arrive I will write to you. We will stay in touch.”

She put her arms around the little man so suddenly that he – surprised by the gesture – tried to step back in shock.

“God bless you, Miss.” His voice broke. He turned away in order to hide his tears.

Viktoria climbed into the horse-drawn carriage and Jakob gave the order to start.

As the carriage reached the first bend in the street she took a last look back at the house. It stood there, proud, tall and empty. Along the wrought iron fence she saw the forsythia in the height of their bloom. She had always loved the garden, and Spring was a special time for her. Memories came up. Memories of the day when she and her father had planted a few sprigs along this very fence. She must have been seven or eight. The forsythia had been standing in a vase on the sideboard, amongst Viktoria’s hand-painted Easter eggs. As Easter was over the maid came to dispose of the twigs, but when Viktoria saw the fine little white roots at the end of each twig, she begged her father to plant them in the garden. He had smiled at her. “Well, let´s go then. We will see if they will grow into big, strong bushes, my petal.” He’d smiled at her. Typical dad, he could not deny a wish like that. And as she grew into a teenager and then adulthood the twigs grew into big bushes. Every springtime passing pedestrians stopped in admiration and awe of the yellow splendour.

As the carriage reached the main boulevard leading to the railway station Viktoria leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes. What time would she arrive at the town of Emden? Would her cousin Elisabeth come to meet her? Or would Elisabeth’s husband be waiting? She could hardly remember Harm Reiners, the rich farmer of the Polder1 area. Would she be able to recognise him after all these years? She remembered him as a tall blond man with incredibly blue eyes. When Elisabeth introduced him days before the wedding Viktoria was quite taken with him. The couple had visited her in Hannover. But that was years ago. Elisabeth had since given birth to three children and the only contact between the cousins had been the exchange of occasional letters. Now she was on her way to help her family. A new challenge, she hoped. Since her father’s death she’d needed a new purpose in life. She was already thirty, an old spinster. She could have looked for a job as a nanny but decided against it. Looking after other people’s children didn’t seem right when she knew that her cousin could do with some help because of her fragile constitution. Her family needed her and it was her duty to comply. She shivered in anticipation.

The carriage had to stop a few times on the way due to heavy traffic but they reached the station just in time for her train. She quickly paid the coachman, grabbed her two heavy, leather bags and walked briskly through the entrance hall. She had to hurry if she wanted to catch her train. With ticket and bag in her right hand she approached the controller at the barrier. As she finally entered the second class railway carriage she fell exhausted into an empty seat by the window.

1 Polder – farmland re-gained from the sea, fertile land. The word comes from the Dutch language.

Chapter 2

East Frisia, Spring 1908

After changing trains at Bremen, Oldenburg and Leer, the train was just leaving for the last stretch of her journey to Emden. Suddenly anxiety crept up on her. What was she doing here? She looked through the dirty windows of her compartment, outside a bleak and flat landscape went by. Nothing but endless meadows, here and there a group of black and white cows grazing in the light of a giant, open sky. In the far distance red roofs of farmhouses surrounded by bushes and tall, bare trees. Nothing else for miles. As they were coming closer to the town of Emden she spotted a vivid green strip on the horizon to the left. “This must be the dyke of the river Ems” she thought. From Elisabeth´s last letter she knew that her destination was coming closer. Emden wouldn’t be far now.

The train was running late as it reached Emden station. She disembarked stiffly and walked along the platform, passing a few farmers’ families with chickens in cages and children. Viktoria had searched for a known face as she got off the train, but neither here nor anywhere else did she see one. So she walked towards the barrier, the controller took her ticket, stared at it for a moment and deposited the little brown card in this leather book. Then he opened the barrier so that she could go through into the main entrance hall. As she left this rather dingy place she was blinded by the light outside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She spotted a bench, sat down, her bags close to her body, and waited. Somebody would come to fetch her she said to herself.

Not far from her stood two carriages waiting for paying passengers. One of the coachmen looked at her and gave her an encouraging smile, revealing his rotten, brown teeth. She shuddered and turned away in disgust.

Viktoria only noticed the young lad the moment he stood right in front of her. Full of uncertainty he asked her if she was the visitor to the Reiner´s farm. He had been sent to fetch her.

She stood up with great relief and stretched her hand out to greet him. But he ignored it, grabbed the two bags and walked towards an open-framed carriage drawn by a huge, black horse. With a brisk movement he threw the bags onto the luggage rack and indicated for Viktoria to climb up into the seat. She scrambled up and took the seat next to him. Just at this moment her skirt was lifted by a gust of wind, exposing her legs, showing her black stockings. The coachmen nearby whistled and cheered so that she blushed with embarrassment, wishing she could leave a bit faster, but the black horse was in no hurry.

After a one hour journey at leisurely pace, coming through the wide ,open landscape of the Krummhoern2 with its Warfen-Villages3 and massive red-brick churches, they finally reached their destination – a huge brick-built farmhouse, exclusively typical to this part of the coast. The Gulfhof4 had a two-storey living quarters with sash windows and a grand double entrance door. As they came closer she noticed a maid coming out of a side door, carrying a milk churn in each hand which she stood upside down onto a wooden shelf along the wall. The largest part of the building was the attached high barn containing the stables for the horses, pigs and cattle as well as a huge hay loft and a threshing floor. The barn building had an access on the side as well on the back so that carriages could drive through to unload inside.

As they arrived at the farmhouse two girls came running out. Viktoria had never met them in person but knew they must be ten year old Uda and eight year old Feemke. Both seemed very excited to see her and as they stood in front of her, out of breath, they curtsied, as well educated young ladies would be expected to do. Viktoria laughed and took them into her arms. But where was their little brother, the four year old Enno? She asked the girls about him but they only shrugged their shoulders.

“Aunt Viktoria, Aunt Viktoria! Come in! Let´s go to see mother. She is ill in bed again. She is waiting for you.” Feemke took Viktorias hand and pulled her towards the front door. Viktoria turned around quickly to the carriage, looking for her luggage and she saw him. He stood in the huge open barn door, straw in his hair and on his clothes, buttoning up his corduroy trousers. His puffy face was red and sweaty and as he looked at her now there was a vile grin on his face. Full of disgust she turned away, quickly entering the house. It was Harm Reiners, Elisabeth´s husband. He had aged and grown fat. But what really disturbed her was the way he had looked at her. There had been something evil in his blue eyes. It frightened her.

Slightly upset after this brief encounter, she followed the girls upstairs to the couple’s bedroom. Viktoria stood in shock in the open doorway when she saw Elisabeth. Was this her cousin? Elisabeth looked old and pale amongst all the bulky feather cushions and quilt and she seemed so frail.

“Aunt Viktoria is here!” both girls shouted at the same time. “Mother, Aunt Viktoria has really come! Look!”

Elisabeth opened her eyes and stretched her hand out to her visitor. Viktoria took it and bent down to kiss her cousin’s forehead. It was cold as ice but damp. Then a sobbing noise came from the bed as Elisabeth tried to sit up. “I never thought this would ever happen, you are really here. Now everything will be alright, all will turn for the better.” With those words she sunk back onto her pillows. Viktoria was shocked. The woman in bed was deathly pale and her formerly blond hair had turned grey and dull. It was hard to believe that this was the same person,so young, full of life and laughing who had come to visit her in Hannover only eleven years ago. Viktoria remembered being a little bit jealous at that time, her cousin had met an attractive, rich, young farmer and seemed to be happy and in love. What had happened since? Her first thought was that here lies a very unhappy woman who takes refuge in illness. For some unknown reason Viktoria was more than convinced of that.

Then she told the family about her journey and the girls listened in awe. They had never seen a train. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and a young maid appeared with a tray, serving tea. Viktoria gave a quick glance in her direction and continued to speak. She was not much older than perhaps fourteen, small and dainty, her red hair hidden under a bonnet, she didn´t look at anybody, avoiding eye contact. A tray was placed on the marble top of the bedside table next to Elisabeth. The girl was about to leave when Elisabeth called her back.

“Dirtje, come here my dear”, she whispered. Dirtje came closer again. Now Viktoria took a closer look. The girl’s face was swollen and there were bits of straw clinging to her bonnet and skirt. The girl had obviously been crying. Elisabeth tried to sit up again and reached her hand towards the maid but she again took a step back and was about to leave. “Dirtje, come here, let me have a look at you.” This time Elisabeth´s voice was stronger. The girl came closer again und stood by the bedside. Elisabeth took Dirtje´s little hand into hers and looked at her. “I am so sorry. So very sorry to lie here and not being able to help you. One day he will get his punishment and go to hell. God will give justice, this I promise you. With that she sunk once more onto her pillows and closed her eyes. A deep groan came from her chest. Dirtje pulled her hand back and fled crying from the room. Viktoria was horrified. The girls looked silently down to their shoes, then, meaningfully, at Viktoria.

2 Krummhoern – A large part in the west of East Frisia,, formerly part of the North sea, reclaimed by the Frisians after the year 800 AD. The dykes directly on the coast were called sea dykes, the old ones – later replaced due to the gain of more land – were called summer dykes. Those areas were then named summer polder.

3 Warfendoerfer (Wharfs) In order to save themselves from regular flooding they started to build man-made hills for their houses and farms. In the 12th century they built churches with big square towers which gave them not only safety in case of flooding, but also in case of war.

4 Gulfhof – this type of traditional farm building appeared in the 18th century all along the coast of West Frisia (Netherlands) and East Frisia to demonstrate the incredible wealth of the farmers there. The land – formerly under the sea – was a rich clay soil and ideal for the growing of potatoes, cabbage and roots which were sold to the surrounding towns.

Chapter 3

Viktoria stood at the rails on the deck of a large ship and looked out at the sea. The sun had just reached the horizon where it would disappear in shades of red and orange. Viktoria waited for this moment. But suddenly the sun was gone and the sea dark. Out of the water her cousin, Elisabeth, rose up. She grew and grew and eventually filled the whole sky. Viktoria was terrified. Elisabeth had seaweed hanging around her head instead of hair. Her eyes seemed huge and black. She lifted her right hand and spoke with a loud and haunting voice:

“I curse you, Polder farmer. Go to hell.” Then Elisabeth sunk back into the dark waters. A ship’s bell started to ring. “Man over board, man over board”, she tried to scream but her voice was hardly there. Nobody heard her and nobody came to her cousin’s rescue. Full of panic, she paced up and down the deck. Somebody had to help her. But nobody was in sight. The ship’s bell became louder and louder.

The door of her bedroom was opened and Uda stepped towards the bed and watched her aunt who obviously had had a bad dream. The girl knew all about bad dreams and looked at Viktoria in pity.

“Aunt Victoria, please wake up. The bell is ringing for supper. It’s time to eat. Please get up and come with me.”

Viktoria left the land of dreams, more like nightmares, and sat up. It took her a moment to recognise the girl. It all was just a bad dream. Realising this, she got up quickly and tidied her hair, then she searched for her boots and followed Uda.

Uda took her down into the servants’ kitchen which was warm and cosy. The large white cooking stove sent a smell of a roast in her direction. Viktoria suddenly realised how hungry she was. She looked at the long wooden table in the middle of the room. No table cloth. Only two huge frying pans were placed at the centre. Around the table were the four farmhands and three maids, one of them being Dirtje who looked away as she approached. She greeted the young lad that had fetched her from the station but he also looked away, inspecting the table top closely. The cook, a sturdy figure in her fifties with a chubby red face, brought a loaf of bread to the table. ”Tuck in”, she announced and took her place at the head of the table. Viktoria was uncertain where she would eat. Here? At this table? Where was the farmer and where were the children? The cook looked in her direction and pointed to an empty stool at the far end of the table. “This is going to be your place from now on”, she commanded. Uda’s face had turned red and she fled the scene.”They are eating with their father in the dining room.” the cook explained with a grin. “You are staying with us now you are working here.” The others around the table giggled. So that’s it. This was unexpected for Viktoria. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Time would tell, but perhaps everything was a mistake and as soon as Harm Reiners appeared she would demand an explanation. But he never came that evening.

She watched the others eat and did what they did. She took her fork, dipped it into the huge frying pan and tried to spear a little round potato, moving it through a thick gravy and back to her mouth. The others watched her and the maids started to giggle. The potato made it half way across the table, then fell off and landed on the wooden table. The giggle increased, even on the other side of the table. Viktoria tried to catch the potato again but with no luck. So she decided on using her fingers and it worked. Relief everywhere. The cook nodded approvingly. Victoria´s fingers were meanwhile full of greasy, stodgy gravy, she could have done with a napkin but they were nowhere to be found. The smacking and burping from the men nearly made her lose her appetite. But she carried on, potato after potato. She was hungry and didn´t want to leave her share of the food to the others. Everybody here had obviously more practice in this kind of eating and soon both pans were empty except for the stodgy gravy. This was wiped up with the slice of bread. Viktoria had to admit that the gravy was tasty, containing bacon cubes, onion and milk. How little did she know that soon she would despise this meal since it came every second day on the table. The others never complained because it filled their stomachs. The staff at this farm were lucky in comparison to others working in the area. At least they went to bed with a full stomach. They knew they should be thankful. Nevertheless, after a few days Viktoria would demand plates for everyone. A bit of culture wouldn´t do any harm she thought.

After supper she decided to search the children to say good night. But they were not be found, nor their father. So she wandered along the hallway, listening carefully at all doors she was passing, hoping to hear the girls somewhere. As she passed the door which she had entered to see Elisabeth earlier that day she heard the rhythmical squeak of a bed and the loud and lustful groan of a man. She blushed and fled to her room. The moment she closed the door behind her she threw up – straight into the wicker basket which was standing next to her. Only then Viktoria realised that this was not the right kind of vessel. The mess ran through the openings and spread over the wooden floor boards. But she couldn´t be bothered and threw herself onto the bed, pulling the cover over her head, not even undressing and crying her eyes out.

Through her tears she sank down into the land of dreams, to a place that seemed strangely familiar. She stood on deck of a ship looking at the sunset and a horrible feeling crept up on her. She tried to remember and looked, full of panic, out at the sea…

Chapter 4

Johannes Bontjes stretched out his limbs as he lay in the midday sun. He was lying on a dry patch of grass, surrounded by flowering heather, day-dreaming. The crickets sang, as did a blackbird perched nearby in the little birch tree. Here, in the shallow dip of the highmoor, he was sheltered from the cold sea wind.

“Back to work you lazy loafer!” It was his father calling. He stood at the edge of the moor leaning on the handle of his wide spade. It was Sunday and they had worked since the early morning cutting peat. The high-moor had been growing over thousands of years, heavy and saturated by the dark brown waters. Eske Bontjes piled up the brick-like pieces onto the wooden wheelbarrow and brought the peat to a flat area nearby. It was the job of the older children to pile them up, building little roundish towers with gaps in between the pieces so that the wind could blow through and dry them. The job of the smaller children was to turn each piece of turf so that every side would be dried by the sun and wind. By that time the pieces had already lost most of their weight. Behind their ramshackle houses built of clay and thatched with straw or if people were really poor, with turf, nearly every inhabitant of the moors owned a narrow stretch of land. Cutting the peat ensured the poor people would have something to heat and cook with and if they were lucky, and the summer weather good, they could produce a little surplus and sell it.

Johannes stood up and stretched his limbs. His bones ached and he could hardly stand upright anymore. The last eight Sundays he had been helping his parents cut the peat which was very hard work. He watched his mother, a thin but tough woman, as she pushed the loaded wheelbarrow to the drying place. Her body had the colour of the peat – dark brown and leathery. Every summer was like that. In winter she looked pale and tired. He was the eldest of ten children who all lived – apart from his sister Dirtje, who worked on a farm – with his parents in the little hut on the edge of the moor. Dirtje had gone away two years ago and he thought how lucky she had been to find a job as a maid in a wealthy household. He and the family had only seen her once since she had started work though. She was nearly an adult now and he was incredibly proud of her making her own life. The Polder farmer Harm Reiners came every year at the end of summer to buy some turf from Johannes’s family and pay Dirtje´s wages to their parents. It was a longstanding tradition. The Bontjes family had supplied the Reiners family for generations and his parents were proud that they could continue to do so, and to have such a long-lasting customer. It was the only money that came in and they could buy things which the company-house did not offer. The company owned all the large turf cutting sites, the canals and boats, the machines and the rails and tubs needed for transport. The people working for them were not paid in money but received vouchers which they could use to buy everyday things at the company-owned stores at expensive prices. Everybody had been complaining about it – to no avail. The vouchers didn´t feed the large families any longer. So most people tried to get some other income and only bought necessary food, shoes, fabric and fodder for the animals at the company store. Some were lucky enough to keep a goat or a pig and some chickens. Then they had some milk, some eggs and, at Christmas perhaps, a boiled chicken in the pot.

Johannes took over from his father. The old man walked with a bent back to his wife and asked for a bit of bread and water.

“Take some of the fatty bacon, dear, you have to stay strong,” his wife ordered. But he refused, wanting to leave the meat for Johannes and the other children. They needed the fat more in order to get some protection from tuberculosis – an illness quite common in this part of the world. He sat down to take a little rest.