They spent the rest of the afternoon systematically printing and processing the remainder of the images. At the end of the session, they had six images for the circumcision essay, three for the sprained ankle essay, two large portraits of David for Maria and five postcard-sized ones of Maria for David. They stood them up along the counter, then stepped back to study their work.

"I'm well pleased with all of these. Do you see any we need to redo? Shoot again or print again?"

"Only one I can think of. I'd love this one of me enlarged like my other two." She picked up the postcard image of the open arms pose. "I'd like to stand it on my night table with the second one of you and have your hungry eyes looking into my longing ones. Together."

"A fine idea. I'll let you do the entire process on this one. You know all the steps now. While you set up, I'll put these back between blotting paper and under the weight."

Three minutes later, as the fresh enlargement was being blotted, David said, "I was just thinking – my postcards should fit well in a cigarette case. I don't have one. I've not had any reason or desire to smoke, but many of the fellows carry cases to keep their smokes dry and undamaged."

"That's a clever thought. Keep them hidden and protected. Doctor Nausdorf at school has an elegantly engraved silver one. I suppose they're available at tobacconists and at jewellers."

David looked at his watch. "Just on five-thirty. We'll leave these under the weights until later this evening. Let's tidy up here and go join Tante and Mama."

As they entered the kitchen, Bethia looked up from stuffing sausages. "Perfect timing, David; you can go down and start a fire in the smoker. These will be soon ready, there are four hams in the brine that need smoking, and we've four dozen tenderloins to prepare yet for Klettgauschinken. How's your photo project coming?"

"We've finished everything, and we're now waiting only for the prints to dry. Another two hours should have them dried and trained flat."

"You've been very busy."

"So have you."

"It's so much easier with Rachel's assistance – and so much more enjoyable. She's been filling me full of details of your adventures coming over the mountains. Such intense times you all had."

When David returned from lighting the fire, Rachel and Maria had finished the last of the cervelat and had begun on the tenderloins while Bethia was in the front with customers. After he had washed his hands, he joined them at the long counter. "What can I do?"

"From what I've seen, you can do anything." Maria sniggered. "But seriously, David, you're capable of doing anything you set your mind to. You amaze me. You amaze all of us. We were just talking about this."

"One thing I'd dearly love to do is stop this infernal war. Stop it so I don't have to leave you."

"I think that's beyond all of us except Kaiser Wilhelm. He's the only one who can stop this idiocy." Rachel shook her head and let out a loud breath. "He's already caused the injury and death of more than a million men, the destruction of so many towns and villages. The ruination of countless families left behind. It will take more than just you to stop this insanity."

"It's quiet in here," Bethia said as she returned from the front a while later.

"Kaiser Wilhelm entered the conversation." Rachel looked up from her work. "Difficult to carry on when stunned by the results of insanity."

They continued working in silence, David watching their nimble fingers as they trimmed the tenderloins, added herbs, and then folded and bound them in a criss-cross pattern. After two minutes, he picked up a knife and slid a tenderloin off the pile. "Any secrets I should know about with this?"

"The first thing we remove is the chain, this thing along here." Bethia pointed with the tip of her knife. "Do it this way." She demonstrated. "Turn the silverskin up, insert the knife under it like this, and peel it away." She completed its removal. "That's it."

He followed her example and then watched closely as she added the herbs, folded the tail and started the binding. He copied her actions. With the four of them working, the pile quickly shrank. The last one was bound a little before six thirty.

"Wonderfully fast with four people working." Bethia looked up from wiping her hands. "Let's check the fire, adjust the dampers and bring the hams up from the cellar. They'll all smoke overnight, so you'll have fresh Cervelat and Klettgauschinken to take across the border to Oma and Opa tomorrow. Let's finish here so we can open some wine and relax."

Half an hour later, with the smoker loaded, the shop front locked, and the shutters closed, they sat in the parlour sipping Weißburgunder and relaxing. "That was a productive day." Bethia raised her glass. "May we all have many more."

"That's a lot of Klettgauschinken, Tante." David looked at her and tilted his head. "Have you a market for it?"

"I go through three, sometimes four a week in the metzgerei, a few slices at a time. But when we were wholesaling them, we were selling a hundred a week."

"So slice-by-slice, you have a three or four-month supply, but distributed, you've three or four days. Completely different markets."

"Also, completely different prices." She sipped her wine again and smiled. "I get fifty per cent more selling it by the slice, but much of that is rewarding my time and labour in the shop front."

"That's an excellent point. The higher price includes the value you've added with your individual customer service. Your wholesale customers get a one-third discount from the retail price you've established. They can choose to sell it at whatever price gives them the return they wish for their investment in stock, their risk of spoilage and wastage, and their compensation for the shop and their labour."

He took another sip of wine. "This is delicious. It's much like the one we had last week to celebrate. A bit less complex, though. Not as intense."

Bethia smiled at him. "You're very perceptive with your tastes. This is the 1912 harvest. Last week, we had the 1911. They were quite different conditions. The 1911 crop was superb, but the 1912 suffered from less than normal summer sun. And there was rain immediately before harvest, which swelled the grapes and diluted the wine. I'll give you one of each to take across tomorrow."

She swirled her glass and nosed it. "I'm curious to see your photos. They should be dry by now."

He looked at Maria and shrugged. She smiled and nodded. "Most are rather mundane images to illustrate Maria's essays, but we took some rather more artistic portraits to remind us of each other while I'm away." He set his glass down, looked at Maria and tilted his head. She rose with him, and they headed toward the darkroom.

As they removed the photos from the blotting papers, he set the first one of him aside. "We should leave this one here. The ramrod will spoil the impact of these two."

"She looked at the two big enlargements and the postcards. These are really quite fine, aren't they? Even if they weren't images of us, I'd think them wonderful."

David arranged them in a leather portfolio, then they headed back toward the parlour. "Probably best to save the private ones until the end."

"Start with the crutches and ankle." She squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. "This is my first art exhibit."

"Mine too." He chuckled. "Nervous?"

"A bit. You?"

"Yes, also a bit. Strange, I can't remember being nervous since the first year of high school." They walked into the parlour, then paused and looked at each other.

Bethia and Rachel were seated side-by-side on the settee, so Maria knelt in front of them and handed the first batch. "These are the three images for the sprained ankle paper."

Bethia nodded as she looked at them. "These will illustrate your essay well. You've a very clear story in all three, sharply focused also." She passed them to Rachel.

"These have excellent composition. Artistic and interesting." She handed them back to Maria.

"These next six are for the circumcision essay." She passed the group to Bethia. 

"Again, a sharp focus." She leafed through the six. "All of them sharp. You're good at this."

Rachel leaned over to look. "Again, well composed." She looked up at David. "You've studied art. It's obvious here that you have a good eye for composition."

"Mamère has many books on art, and I spent a lot of time looking at the images of the famous paintings, the Dutch masters, the Italians, the French. I probably simply absorbed it." He put a finger up and laughed. "But since I was the subject in these photos, Maria shot them. They're her artistry."

"Yes, but you did the arranging and cropping when you made the enlargements, so these are actually your artistry. You took my shots and improved them."

"This one's good," Bethia held it up and turned it toward David and Maria. "It gives an idea of what an erect circumcised one looks like. It looks painful compared to this one. Compared to God's design. The only things missing are the scars from the mutilation." She passed the photos to Rachel.

"This one looks like an enlargement of this. What's it for?"

"I wanted to illustrate the frills under his head. His most sensitive parts."

"I see that now. Damn the rabbis for cutting that away. Edom never knew what had been removed, never knew what a member was supposed to look like or how it was meant to function. How it was designed to give pleasure, not pain. We really must do something to spread the word about this mutilation aberration."

"Maybe this essay can be the beginning of it. I wish I had a model with a circumcised one. Not only to better show the damage but also to allow me to better describe it. Besides, my curiosity has me wanting to examine one."

Rachel tilted her head and looked at Maria. "Perhaps Opa would be willing. You talked about your essays yesterday, and he seemed rather interested. He's a sweet, gentle man, and the worst thing he might do is say no."

She handed the photos back to Maria. "Some images of a genuine one would add so much to these. Show the scars, show the withered, cracked and crusted head. Compare them with these. That would be so powerful."

Maria nodded as Rachel spoke. "I agree, he did seem very interested when I outlined this essay. I'll ask him."

She placed the group of photos in the portfolio, then pulled out David's five postcards and held them out to Bethia. "These are to keep David warm while he's away."

"Oh, my my. These are exquisite, Sweetheart. You're such a beauty. These show you so wonderfully. All of them. I love the variety of moods David has captured. So inviting."

Bethia passed them along to Rachel. "Fabulous photographs. He won't soon forget you with these. This one, the coy mood, the invitation in your eyes. If I were a man, I'd be clambering for you. And this one. Your hands in your hair. I love the way your raised arms lift your breasts. I love the look in your eyes, the desire in your bit lip. These are all superb." She handed them back.

"Finally, two for me to stand on my night table while he's gone." She turned them toward the settee and held them up.

"Oh, my God! You two truly are gods." Rachel leaned for a closer look. "Such raw beauty. You're an absolutely exquisite couple. You don't deserve to have the war come between you."