by Dora Heldt
“Who is it, please?”
“Dad, open the door.”
“Christine? Dorothea? Is that you?”
I kicked the door. “Dad!”
“Just a moment.”
We heard the key turn twice in the lock, and then the door slowly opened. I pushed past my father, the first bag falling from my shoulder as I did so, the second following shortly after. I dropped the cloth bags and three jackets down onto the floor. Dorothea did the same with her load. My father looked at the mess and shook his head.
“Well, you could have done that in two trips. It was so neat and tidy here.”
I was amazed that Dorothea hadn’t given him one dirty look yet. I’d certainly given him a fair few already. But she just shoved her bag into a corner with her foot and linked arms with my father.
“So, boss, will you give me the guided tour?”
He bowed. “With pleasure. It’s lovely here, by the way. You can tell straightaway that the owner must be pretty neat.”
The apartment consisted of a long hallway that led off into two bedrooms and a living room. The bathroom was next to the first bedroom and opposite the kitchen. The living room led out onto the terrace, and then there were three steps down to the garden. I walked out to the terrace and turned around to my father.
“Where do you want to sleep?”
“I’ve put myself in the first bedroom. Then I’m the closest to the door in case anyone breaks in.”
“And what if the burglars come in through the terrace door?”
“Then they’ll need to leave by the front door.”
“Aha. And the first bedroom wouldn’t happen to be the biggest, would it?”
My father gave me an innocent look. “No, but the bed has the best mattress. I tried out the rollaway bed in the living room too; it’s really good quality. You’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep on it.”
I pictured myself smoking a sneaky cigarette in seclusion on the steps of the terrace in the summer evening, while Dad slept nearby on his good mattress. The prospect cheered me up enough to be able to smile at him.
“Fine, then I’ll take the rollaway.”
Dorothea fetched her bags from the hallway and put them in the other bedroom. My father watched her go and then walked over to me.
“Say, Christine,” he said quietly, “could you give me a hand a little later, with my suitcase and so on?”
“I’ve been helping you with your suitcase the whole day.”
“No, I mean, with unpacking. Your mother put my clothes together in the suitcase for me so I’d know what to wear with what.”
He looked embarrassed. But I didn’t want to make it easy for him. He had to tell me what he wanted.
“And?”
“Well,” he kneaded his fingers, “I added my work tools, and things got a little disorganized while I was doing it. Now I’m not exactly sure what goes with what.”
I was touched by his efforts to dress sensibly, even in my mother’s absence.
“Then let’s have a look. But we’ll have to do it later. Marleen has booked a table for eight o’clock, and it’s already quarter to.”
I followed him into his bedroom, glanced into his suitcase briefly, and then clapped it shut again. He’d put his tools in the middle of the case, and everything else was entangled with them.
“Yes, you’re right, your things are all over the place. I’ll do it after dinner. That way I can ask Marleen if she’ll lend me her iron.”
My father was relieved. “Thank you, Christine. Mom ironed all the shirts, though, so you don’t need to do that.”
I steered him out into the hallway and called for Dorothea so we could all go to dinner.
Just before eight, we arrived at the Milk Bar, where Marleen had reserved a table. She was already there, sitting in a spot with a fantastic view of the sea. My father looked around him hesitantly, and I guessed what he was thinking.
“Milk Bar is just a name, Dad. It’s a completely normal restaurant.”
“You mean they have wheat beer too?”
“Of course.”
He suddenly looked a lot happier. Noticing us, Marleen got up.
“Lovely, you’re all here. Have you already unpacked? Is there enough space for you all to sleep there? If you need anything else, just tell me.”
Dorothea sank down into a chair. “It’s a gorgeous apartment, I really love it. Christine has volunteered to take the guest bed, and Heinz and I have our own rooms.”
Heinz sat down next to Dorothea, but then stood back up and sat down opposite her.
“I want to look out at the sea.” He smiled at the others. “It almost looks like home.”
He gazed wistfully out over the water. I remembered that he didn’t like being away from home. And he had gone away without my mother this time, too. Maybe I was just being too impatient with him. He looked a little lost. Marleen interrupted the voice of my guilty conscience.
“What do you want to drink? It’s self-service here. Shall I grab us a round of champagne to start off?”
“I’ll get heartburn if I drink that,” Heinz said. “Do they have wheat beer?”
“I’m sure they do. So, a wheat beer for Heinz and champagne for us?”
I nodded, and Dorothea stood up. “I’ll come and help you.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, once they were both gone.
“Yes…sure…I was just thinking, that’s all.”
I started to worry. “What about?”
“Well, that the island isn’t as big as Sylt, and I could walk the whole of it a hundred times in two weeks. Hopefully it won’t get too boring.”
“And what else?”
“If I were to ask Marleen if the ladies have been put in good rooms, I’m sure she’d say yes, right? I mean, of course she would, it’s her guesthouse. But how can I find out if that’s really the case?”
“By asking the two ladies themselves, perhaps?”
“That would be a bit pushy, though.”
“Dad, why don’t you just steal the room keys from reception first thing in the morning and have a look for yourself? Then you’ll know.”
“And you don’t think anyone would notice?”
“Who wouldn’t notice what?” Marleen put the wheat beer and my glass of champagne down on the table.
“My father—” I felt a kick under the table. “Ow! My father was just wondering whether to visit his old friend Kalli tomorrow morning. But given that he offered his help with the renovations, he just wanted to know whether anyone would mind if he slips off on the first day. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
“Who’s slipping off?” Dorothea carefully placed the other two champagne glasses down on the table.
“Kalli isn’t old,” my dad protested. “In fact, he’s even younger than I am, not that you would think it to look at us. He’s only seventy-one.”
“Well!” Marleen raised her glass. “Welcome everyone! Here’s to a wonderful vacation, with a few little jobs added in for good measure.” After we’d taken a sip, she looked around. “I suggest we get some food; then I can tell you what I need help with.”
Heinz refused to come over to the buffet with us. “If I wanted self-service, I’d go to a fast-food stand. And besides, if I get up now I’ll lose my seat, and then I’ll have to stand around at the bar, and I won’t be able to decide quickly enough and the cashiers will get impatient with me and…”
“Dad, I’ll bring you something.”
He nodded. “Something with roast potatoes maybe, but no more sausages, please. I’m sure you’ll find something.”
After a short while we came back with matjes herrings and roast potatoes for everyone. Heinz was having a loud conversation with a couple at the next table.
“I prefer playing on Sylt. They have two eighteen-hole courses; that’s much more than they have here, I think. There’s only a nine-hole here? If that’s the case, I might as well just go and play mini golf.”
The co
uple nodded at us politely. “Thanks for the information,” said the woman. “We’ll have to discuss it, but I’m sure you’re right. Have a nice day and bon appétit.”
My father looked first at me, then his plate. “That looks good. I just don’t understand why they can’t bring it to the table.”
“What were you saying to that couple?”
He picked the parsley and salad garnish off his plate and threw them into the ashtray.
“Oh, nothing. I just asked them why they were here.”
Marleen was watching his cleaning-up operation. “Well, I presume they’re on vacation. Like thousands of others.”
“Wrong.” He pointed his fork toward Marleen. “They want to play golf here.”
I could already guess what he’d said. “And you told them Sylt was better for that?”
“Of course I did. We have three golf courses and a fourth one in development.”
Dorothea shook her head. “You can’t just poach guests away from here.”
“Why not?” He looked at her innocently.
Marleen tried to stifle a laugh. “Well, if you look at it as a tip from one golfer to another, then there’s no harm done.”
“My father has never played golf in his life.”
“I didn’t think he had. But our golf courses are really nice; I drive past them a lot.”
My father shoved the fork in his mouth and nodded.
After we ate, Marleen took the architectural drawings and photos out of her purse.
“We can look at everything properly tomorrow, but this is how it’s supposed to look.”
The term “restaurant” didn’t really suit the space anymore. In the drawings, it looked more like a swanky lounge. Marleen was planning to put leather sofas and an armchair next to the bar, and a glassed-in fireplace in the center of the room. Chrome tables and rattan chairs would populate the rest of the space, where bar snacks and small meals would be served. Dorothea and I were very impressed. Heinz, not so much.
“People will eat their pea soup and smear their greasy fingers all over the couch,” he said.
“Heinz, there certainly won’t be any pea soup served here.”
Dorothea was staring intently at the plans; ideas were coming to her already. She suggested different color combinations to Marleen, then fetched a pen from her purse and scribbled colors and other notes around the edges of the drawings. My father looked on, baffled.
“Why don’t you just paint it white? Then you can touch it up easily. Or use latex paint, then you can just wipe it down with a damp cloth.”
“Dad!”
“Heinz…”
“I’m just saying. So what am I supposed to do? I don’t like painting. It’s so hard to get the paint off of your fingers afterward.”
Dorothea looked up. “Well, I’d prefer to do it myself anyway. I think a few nautical motifs here and there would look really good, too. I can do them at the same time. Marleen, I hope you trust me.”
Marleen nodded. “Of course; that’s why I asked you. My interior decorator has roped in a few students to help too. They can do the basic painting under your guidance, and then you’ll have time to concentrate on the fine details.”
“Wonderful. I love doing this kind of thing.”
Marleen looked back at her plans. “So, the main problem is who can help with what, and when. Since the guesthouse is booked, I can’t get away before ten in the morning. My assistant who normally does the breakfast service has hurt her foot and won’t return for three weeks. Christine, you can take over that, right?”
I nodded.
“The workmen will be at the restaurant starting at eight in the morning. The restrooms still need to be tiled, and the electrics aren’t finished yet. I don’t know when you were planning to start in the mornings, Dorothea, but someone needs to be there to oversee things.”
Dorothea looked up, startled. “At eight? Are you serious? I’m not on duty that early.”
My father sat up straight. “Keeping an eye on workmen is more of a man’s job. I’ll be there at eight on the dot. That’s no problem.”
Marleen smiled at him. “That’s what I was hoping, Heinz. You won’t need to stand around there the whole morning, though. It’s just that someone needs to be there to let them in and to handle any problems that come up.”
“Oh, I know what workmen are like. You have to be authoritative with them, otherwise they’ll just take you for a ride. I’m sure you’re too nice with them, so it’s a good thing I’m here now.” He looked very content. “And besides, I can visit Kalli in the afternoon or the evening; the building work’s a priority.”
On the way back, my father held forth proudly about his experience with workmen. I stayed silent. I already knew many of the stories through my mother, and it would have been impolite for me to correct them when he was clearly such an authority on the subject. Once we got back to the guesthouse, we said good-bye to Marleen.
“Till tomorrow then,” she said. “So you’ll all come here for your breakfast, and then I’ll show Christine the ropes and go off to the restaurant with Heinz and Dorothea. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Theda,” answered my father. “Oh, sorry, I meant Marleen, of course. Night, Marleen.”
“Speaking of Theda.” I realized that we hadn’t even mentioned Marleen’s aunt and her new love. “Weren’t Hubert and Theda planning to come this week, too?”
“Yes, they were planning to. But they’re in Constance, by Lake Bodensee, at the moment, and Theda is really taken with all the nature there. So they’re coming next weekend, but for now the two turtledoves are still on the road.”
“Oh well, travel is an education, that’s what I always say.” Heinz gave Marleen a poignant look. “Okay, good night everyone.”
He turned around and made his way over to our apartment. I gave Marleen a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll have to catch up; he doesn’t even have a key. Sleep well.”
Even before Dorothea had said her good-byes, I could already hear my father calling out to me.
“Christine, hurry up, the door’s locked!”
By midnight I finally sat alone on the steps leading from the terrace to the garden, smoking a cigarette. It was very quiet, and the air was clear. I gazed up at the starry sky.
Earlier, I’d unpacked my father’s suitcase for him while he sat on the edge of the bed and watched me.
“Maybe you can put the things that look good together in little piles. Then I won’t have to be asking you the whole time. But then, we’ll always be leaving the house together, won’t we?”
Did I hear fear in his voice?
“Hey, Dad, tell me something. Are you unhappy to be here with me?”
He thought for a moment. “Oh, of course not, it’s just that I need to get my bearings on the island properly. But it doesn’t matter. If we weren’t here Marleen would be up the creek. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices.”
I’d only just stubbed out the cigarette when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Slide over.”
My father, wearing blue-and-white striped pajamas, sat down next to me.
“Is someone having a barbecue or something? It smells smoky. Look at the stars—if you see a shooting star you can make a wish.”
We sat next to one another and stared up at the night sky. Suddenly, a shooting star fell, and then a second right after it. Neither of us said a word. I didn’t want to disturb the peaceful mood. My wish was for us to have a lovely time ahead. And that my mother’s knee operation would go well. After all, I had seen two stars. My father yawned and stretched his back.
“Righty-ho, time to call it a day, I’m off to bed. But I’m not telling you what I wished for, because if I do it won’t come true.” He laughed softly and stood up. “I can’t wait to see if it does. Good night, Chrissie, sleep well. If you need anything I’m just next door.”
I stayed a moment longer. No more shooting stars fell. But two weren’t bad for a start
. Who knew what could happen on this vacation?
Early Birds
* * *
I’m running barefoot over the dunes, the sun in my face and the sea in front of me. Down on the beach, someone’s waiting for me; I’m nervous and my heart’s pounding. The grass of the dunes tickles my left calf. I suddenly notice that the roses growing wild everywhere smell completely different than usual. The grass tickles me more and more, the scent intensifies, and the sea starts to look blurry.
I opened my eyes. My father sat at the bottom of the guest bed, enveloped in a cloud of Davidoff, and tickling my calf with a pen. I pulled my leg away and tried to speak, but he beat me to it.
“Good morning. So? Did you sleep well? The dreams you have the first night in a new place always come true you know, so I hope they were good ones. What were you dreaming about?”
“Dad, please.” I rolled onto my side and pulled the duvet up.
“Come on, tell me. Then I’ll tell you about my dream.”
“About roses that smell of Davidoff,” I mumbled into the pillow.
“What did you say? Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Keep it private then. So, when are we going to breakfast? I’m so hungry, and thirsty too.”
I struggled upright and sat up against the edge of the bed. My gaze fell on my leg. It was covered in blue stripes.
“Dad! You’ve drawn all over my leg.”
Perplexed, he looked at the pen in his hand. “Then it must be broken, because I pushed the cartridge in. It’ll come off with a pumice stone, though. Are you getting up now?”
I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I just got up and walked silently and sleepily past him to the bathroom. My watch lay on the side: six o’clock. The day was starting an hour earlier than it needed to.
Great, I thought, looking at my tired eyes in the mirror. Mom, I’m only doing this for you. You and your damn knee.
Half an hour later I was walking across to Haus Theda with my father. Dorothea had responded to his cheerful call—“The sun’s shining. Rise and shine!”—by throwing a pillow and shouting, “You two must be out of your minds!” My father had laid the pillow down neatly on a chair and left the room on tiptoe, shutting the door quietly behind him and looking at me warningly, a finger to his lips.