The Little Black Book

“Sir, sir” she called but to no avail. He was already gone. She placed the little black book in her bag and walked back from Regent’s Park towards the Harley Street Cosmetic clinic, where she worked as a receptionist. As she sat at her desk, she pulled the book out of her bag and looked at it. It was very old. She held it for a minute and then placed it back in her bag. “Tomorrow” she thought “I will return it to him tomorrow”. Jenny spent her lunchbreaks at the park, eating her lunch and studying for her evening classes in Birkbeck Collage. She has been living in London for a year now. She found the hustle and bustle hard to cope, coming from a little village in Cornwall. The peaceful park was her favourite place. Every day she saw him. An elderly man, sitting on a bench staring at the trees while caressing this little black book.

The phone rang, disrupting her thoughts “Allure Clinic, how may I help?” It was an appointment request. The clientele at the clinic was mostly rich ladies who came in in search of youth. They were always very nice, but Jenny felt a bit envious at times. She came to London to pursuit her real passion, literature, but had to take night classes and work every day to make ends meet. These ladies, they could afford anything they like, marching into the clinic with their Birkin bags, getting treatments for thousands of pounds, prices that could keep Jenny going for months.

The next day Jenny went back to the park but the old man wasn’t there. She sat and ate her sandwich. “He must turn up, he comes here every day” she thought to herself, but he didn’t come. The days went by, and the man did not show up. Feeling desperate, Jenny pulled the little black book out of her bag and looked at it. She opened it carefully. The yellow pages were full of notes in a foreign language. As it looked like German, she decided to ask Hannah, a German girl who interned at the clinic as a nurse. “Yes, this is German…let me see” Hannah studied the book carefully “these are all addresses, mainly in Berlin. This is outdated though, pre second world war I would say. There are street names here that do not exist anymore. “Thank you Hannah” Jenny smiled, ” Sure, no problem Jen. I must go now, Mrs Scott is having her lips injected toady”.

Jenny looked at the book again, she had a feeling it was very important, “I must return it” she thought. As she was pondering, she recalled the man always had a coffee cup from the nearby Brickwood coffee branch. She decided to go there, maybe she will manage to get some information. During her lunch break she walked to the coffee shop. It was a small cafe, located at the bottom of a fancy apartment block. She ordered a latte and as the barista was preparing it she asked “there is an old man, who used to come to the Regents’ Park every day, with a cup of coffee from your shop, do you know him? I have something that belongs to him”. “Oh” the barista replied” I think you mean Mr Schulman. Yes, he lives upstairs, in fact he owns this whole building. Actually, when I think about it, he did not come in for about two weeks now. Perhaps he is away?” Jenny grabbed the coffee, thanked the barista and walked to the building entrance. It was a fancy condominium with a spotless lobby and a concierge. “May I help?” the concierge asked. ”I am looking for Mr Schulman, I found his book, he left it at the park a couple of weeks back”. “I see, let me call his flat” the concierge picked up the phone and murmured into it “you can go upstairs, his housekeeper is waiting for you, it is the pesthouse flat, on the 5th floor”. Jenny entered the silver lift, she felt nervous.

A petite lady stood at the door waiting for her “I am Marsha, Mr Schulman’s housekeeper, and you are?” “Jenny, I don’t want to interrupt but I believe I have something that belongs to Mr Schulman, he left this little black book on the bench at the Regents Park about two weeks ago”.”Jenny” Marsha smiled “you are a saint! Mr Schulman has fallen ill and this book is all he asks for. The poor man has no family, he built an empire but lives here all alone. This book is very important to him, I know it will mean the world to him to get it back. Give me a minute, let me see if he wants to meet you”. She walked down the long hallway and entered a room, a few minutes later she came out and said “Jenny, Mr Schulman would like to meet you”. “Sure” said Jenny and walked towards the room.

Mr Schulman was lying in a bed looking frail. “Jenny, right? come dear take a seat”. Jenny sat at a chair that was situated next to the bed. Mr Schulman studied her. “Well Jenny, you must be curious as to why this book means so much to me, let me tell you”. Jenny nodded and looked at him in anticipation.

“I was born in Berlin to a Jewish family, an only child. A short while after the Nazis came to power, everything changed. One night, they stormed into our house and took my father away. I was only six years old, my mother was holding me, she screamed and cryied but they pointed a gun to her head and within minutes my father was gone. While the days after are a blur, I remember standing with my mother in lines at embassies as she was trying to find a way out. One day, my mother woke me up in a rush. She then took me to the train station where she gave me a small bag with clothes and some bread. On the way to the station, she explained that I am going to a country called England, where a nice family will take care of me. At the station she said that she will come to get me as soon as she can, but the look on her face said otherwise… as if she knew that this is the last time she was going to see me. She pulled this little black book out of her pocket, it was just an ordinary address book. She borrowed a pen from the lady who noted our names, the Kindertransport children. She then wrote something on the last page of the book and gave it to me. ‘Here you go my darling Karl, something to remember me by. I love you Karl’ she kissed me goodbye and I got on the train. I remember crying until I fell asleep. I arrived to Liverpool Street Station a few days later, and was assigned to a lovely elderly couple who took me in as if I was their own”. He opened the book and pointed to the last page, “it says” he continued “my darling Karl, father and mother will always love you. Become a good man and have a wonderful life. Mother knows you will be successful. I love you more than words can say”. He looked at Jenny “you see Jenny, this is all I have left from her. After the war, when I was old enough, I have managed to get some information. I learned that my mother died in Auschwitz and my father died in Dachau. This is all I have left, and you brought it back to me Jenny, I am so grateful”. “Mr Schulman, not at all, it is my pleasure. I saw you at the park every day. I go there to have my lunch. You always held this little black book, I knew it must be important”. They then talked about Jenny’s studies and family back home. “Come to see me again Jenny, I am an old lonely man, these are my last days on this earth and you are such a delight to talk to”. “Of course, Mr Schulman, I would love to”. Mr Schulman looked at her warmly and said “Karl, call me Karl”.

Jenny came to visit Mr Schulman every other day, they talked about literature, music and about Jenny’s classes. Mr Schulman also told Jenny about his business, how the lady who took him in taught him sewing, and how he joined small factory which he took over after some years and built a famous fashion brand. Jenny admired Mr Schulman, he was so wise and resilient. She wondered why he didn’t marry or built a family, but in the few months she was visiting him she got to realise that Mr Schulman put all of his efforts to make his mother words in the little black book come true: he became a successful man, and a good one at that.

It was early morning on a Friday when the phone rang. Marsha was on the line “Jenny, Mr Schulman died in his sleep last night. The funeral will be taking place today". Jenny put down the phone and cried, in the last few months she grew to love Mr Schulman like a grandfather.

At the end of the funeral, as the crowd dispersed, a man approached her. “Ms Jenny Alan?“, “Yes” Jenny replied, as she was wiping the tears off her face. “My name is Stewart Noble, Mr Schulman’s lawyer. Can we arrange for a meeting at my office? Mr Schulman has included you in his will”. Jenny looked at the man in surprise “he did?”

The following Monday Jenny went to Mr Noble’s office. It was located next to Liverpool Street Station. Mr Noble’s secretary guided her in. “Oh, hello Ms Alan, take a seat, I have some good news”. Jenny nodded and sat down. “Ms Alan, as you know, Mr Schulman had no family. He was a very wealthy man. A couple of weeks ago he asked me to change his will. He told me about how you found his little black book and how you kept him company during these last few months. He asked me to make sure you get this” Mr Noble pointed at a document “read it”. Jenny looked at the paper and couldn’t believe her eyes “Ms Jenny Alan: the sum of £1,000,000”. Mr Noble handed her the little black book, “he also wanted you to have this” he smiled. "Congratulations Ms Alan, you have been kind to a good decent man, you deserve this”.

Jenny walked towards the entrance of Liverpool Street Station while still in shock, she was not expecting this at all. As she looked to her left, she saw the Kindertransport memorial statue. She approached it and touched the cold bronze, her eyes filled with tears and she whispered “thank you Karl Schulman”.