Chaperoned

by Dora Heldt

  “Psst. Dorothea’s still tired and she needs to sleep in. She is on vacation, after all.”

  It was a good thing the toothbrush was still in my mouth. It was far too early in the day to commit patricide.

  As we walked through the door of the guesthouse, Marleen was coming toward us with a tray. She jumped.

  “What are you doing here so early? It’s only six thirty.”

  “The early bird catches the worm.” My father took the tray from Marleen, only to look at her helplessly seconds later. “Where’s this going?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then gave it to me. “You’ve been here before and know your way around. I’d only put it in the wrong place. So, Marleen, can we have breakfast already?”

  I went into the kitchen with the tray, and Marleen followed, my father behind her. In the small space, we were suddenly all in each other’s way. Marleen reached for the tray and put it down behind my father, knocking two bread baskets to the floor in the process.

  “Ooops!” Heinz bent over, knocking the coffeepot over, too. “It’s very cramped in here, isn’t it?”

  Marleen and I crouched down at the same time, bumping our heads together, and my father kneed me in the hip while he was getting up. It wasn’t even seven a.m. yet. I groaned, my father shook his head, and Marleen pushed us both out of the kitchen.

  “You guys are driving me nuts. Go on into the breakfast room; the table at the back by the window is yours. I’ll be in soon.”

  I rubbed my hip and hobbled along the hallway, followed by my father, who turned to say one more thing to Marleen. “Christine’s like her mother in the mornings,” he said. “They both need ages to switch on, and it always leads to chaos.”

  I stretched my back out and walked a little quicker. Once I got to the breakfast room, I stopped and waited for my father. As he looked over at the buffet, I waited fearfully for his commentary, but all he did was smile.

  “Look at it all. Five different kinds of sausage and all that fruit, and even salmon. Then everyone can just help themselves to what they want. How lovely.”

  Marleen came in with a jug of coffee just as I was giving in to a big yawn, without putting my hand in front of my mouth.

  “Good heavens! Why didn’t you sleep in a bit more? We said we’d start at eight. And where’s Dorothea?”

  “She was allowed to sleep in.” I rubbed my eyes. I’d forgotten to put makeup on, not that it mattered. Marleen looked first at me, then at Heinz, who was screwing the top off a jar of marmalade.

  “Then have some coffee and let yourself wake up properly. None of the other guests will be here before eight.”

  “My father drinks decaf, otherwise he gets sick.”

  “No problem. What’s that on your leg, by the way?”

  I had shorts on—it was summer, after all. I looked at my leg.

  “Pen. But it’ll come off with pumice stone, according to Heinz.”

  He acted as if he hadn’t heard me as he returned from the buffet with his plate piled high with food. Then he sat there, looked at his breakfast, then us, and beamed.

  “This looks great, Marleen. Help yourself to something too, Christine, you know the drill—an emperor in the morning, a king at lunchtime, and a pauper in the evening. And it’s morning now.”

  Marleen looked confused. I took the coffeepot from her.

  “That’s how you’re supposed to eat, so you don’t get fat. Is this the normal coffee?”

  She nodded. “I’ll get the other one on.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  The next half hour passed peacefully. I know very few people who can eat in the same dedicated and systematic way as my father. He’d laid out what he wanted to eat on the plate with accurate precision. Nothing was allowed to touch; there had to be ample space between the cold cuts, bread, and jam.

  He started with a slice of rye bread, which he spread with butter, not in any old way, but with exact strokes. The butter had to be the same thickness all over, and the bread couldn’t be showing through; only the edges stayed untouched. Then he put his egg cup right in front of the middle of the plate and tapped the shell with the egg spoon. He carefully removed the top third; the edge had to have the same spacing all the way around. He lifted the egg out of the cup briefly, so as to conceal the removed pieces of shell beneath it, then put back in its place. After that, he salted it, then plunged his spoon in. He’d selected a roll—not granary, not whole wheat, not poppy seed—just a plain roll. He ate the bottom half with ham, which he had previously spent about ten minutes removing every speck of fat from, pressing it into the empty egg shell. On the top half of the roll he spread jam, always strawberry. I watched him, fascinated, as I chewed a dry raisin roll. He was completely concentrated on the task at hand, never looking up, never speaking, completely unaware of anything besides the processing of the various components of his breakfast. For some reason I felt calm. This was familiar to me; it had been my whole life. And nothing had changed.

  After this peaceful half hour, he wiped the egg yolk from his mouth with a napkin—albeit leaving a small breadcrumb in the corner of his mouth—then pushed his plate aside and smiled at me contentedly.

  “The breakfast’s good here, isn’t it?”

  I tapped the corner of my mouth, but before I could say anything I heard a commotion coming from the hallway and saw my father stand up.

  “Good morning, ladies, I hope you had a pleasant evening.”

  “Ah, the white knight of the seas, or rather, the ferry. Oh, you know what I mean. Good morning!”

  Frau Weidemann-Zapek had left the quilted coat behind today and was wearing a white woolen trouser suit, quite a wintry fabric for the time of year. She’d also rammed about twenty white little hair clasps into her elaborate hairdo.

  “What a wonderful morning, what a beautiful day, and off to such a nice start. Are there still two places free here?”

  She clasped the back of the chair next to my father. Frau Klüppersberg, dressed head to toe in stripes compiled of four different shades of green, stayed by the end of the table and proffered her hand graciously to my father. He didn’t notice though, because Marleen came up to the table at just that moment.

  “Good morning, ladies. I hope you slept well. I’ve set aside this table over here for you. Do you drink coffee or tea?”

  Frau Klüppersberg pulled her hand back, a little miffed. “I drink tea. But there are two places free here.”

  “No.” My voice came out louder than I’d intended. I carried on, but more quietly this time. “My friend Dorothea is coming too. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to take the table over there.”

  My father nodded at her apologetically. “That’s right. But you’ll be right next to us.” He sat down again. “She prefers tea, Marleen.”

  “Both of them?” Marleen kept her composure, but I was pretty sure I knew what she was thinking.

  “Yes.” Frau Weidemann-Zapek dropped her purse next to the chair, and they both sat down. “But East Frisian tea please. Don’t brew it for longer than four minutes, and with proper cream, not condensed milk.”

  “Of course. Coming right up.”

  Marleen shot me a look and then disappeared off into the kitchen. My father turned toward the ladies.

  “The breakfast is very good here. You can help yourself to whatever you want, it’s wonderful.”

  They both looked at my father, seeming rather smitten, then stood up and walked to the buffet.

  My father watched them go. “They’re nice,” he said under his breath.

  I didn’t say a word. He held his cup out to me, and I filled it from the coffeepot right in front of him. Frau Klüppersberg was the first to come back. I was impressed at the speed with which she’d managed to pile her plate so high. She had towered up a stack of bread, cheese, and cold meats, which she was holding in place with her thumbs. My father’s gaze fell on the slice of sausage right at the top, which still had the imprint of
her thumbs on it. He raised his eyebrows. Frau Weidemann-Zapek had two plates in her hand: one containing four slices of bread and two rolls, and the second full of cold meats, herring salad, and tomato slices. My father gulped. The ladies put their plates down and went back to the buffet to fetch eggs and salt. As they walked off, one of them bumped into their table, sending a slice of tomato tumbling down from the pile of food. A stain spread out around it, tomato red and herring violet. We both watched its development. Then my father said quietly, almost whispering:

  “Do you think they’ll finish all that?”

  Marleen came back with two pots of tea, put them down on the ladies’ table, and then sat down with us for a moment.

  “Well, Heinz, would you like anything else?”

  “No, I’m fine thanks. I’ll just finish my coffee, then I’m done.”

  “And you, Christine?”

  I really wanted to have a smoke. I gazed longingly at the garden where two lounge chairs were positioned around a small table with an ashtray. Marleen seemed to read my mind.

  “Gesa will be here in ten minutes; she’s my helper. Christine, perhaps you could help her out a bit with the cleaning up, and then I can get away and go across to the restaurant with Heinz. Does that sound okay?”

  We nodded, and Marleen went back to the kitchen. By now, almost all the tables were occupied. Marleen’s guests were made up of five couples and a group of four older ladies, all of whom had said a friendly hello before sitting down at their tables.

  Our neighbors were back. Frau Weidemann-Zapek flung a lump of sugar into her teacup, causing yet another stain. My father looked first at the stain, then at me.

  “Oh, Heinz—I can call you Heinz, can’t I?” Frau Klüppersberg leaned over toward him and smiled. There were poppy seeds caught in her incisors. “May we make use of your tourist guide talents this morning to help us get to know the island?”

  I wondered what he’d said to them yesterday on the ferry ride over. It couldn’t have been about Nordeney; he didn’t know his way around here, so it must have either been about Sylt or some made-up story. Whatever it was, I was intrigued to see how he would get out of it, and ignored the plea for help in his eyes.

  “Oh yes, that would be lovely.” Frau Weidemann-Zapek picked up her knife and reached for her egg cup. “The island won’t know what’s hit it.”

  She giggled, brutally plunging the knife into the middle of the egg. My father gave a start. Frau Klüppersberg piled one slice of bread after the other with her spoils, then slapped them together, cut them through the middle, and wrapped them in a napkin. As she did so, she took a bite into her poppy seed roll with herring salad. She noticed Heinz’s stunned look.

  “We’ve paid for it, after all. This way we won’t need to bother with paying exorbitant amounts of money for lunch later. You should do the same; the sea air gives you an appetite.”

  That was too much, even for my polite father. He pushed his empty coffee cup aside and stood up.

  “Time for me to go, ladies. I’m afraid you’ll have to do without my services. After all, I’m here to give Frau de Vries a helping hand. A promise is a promise, and leisure time has to take a backseat. I hope you have a lovely day and enjoy yourselves.”

  He gave them a brief nod, then tugged on my arm. I was impressed by how charmingly he’d managed to deliver the rebuff. I looked at their disappointed faces and the destroyed breakfast table and smiled contentedly. “Bye.”

  As soon as we got to the kitchen, my father told Marleen all about the stains and the provision smuggling.

  “Everything just slapped on top of the other. How can anyone be that greedy?”

  Marleen, busy filling up the dishwasher, tried to suppress her laughter. “Leave them be, Heinz. It doesn’t matter to me whether they eat it all at once or take it with them.”

  “But it’s so uncouth. This isn’t a campsite.”

  “Dad, I thought you said they were both very nice. Has the magic already worn off?”

  He looked at me disapprovingly. “What magic? Don’t be silly. I’m allowed to be friendly, aren’t I? But it’s not like I have to go off and spend the day with them right after we’ve met. So, what’s happening? Are we heading over to the restaurant now?”

  Just then, a young woman came in. She had long blonde hair, wore jeans and a T-shirt, and had a friendly smile.

  “Hi, Marleen. Oh, good morning.” She held out her hand. “I’m Gesa, and you must be Christine. And you’re her father, Herr…? Unfortunately I can’t remember your name, I’m sorry.”

  My father cocked his head to the side and shook her hand. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m Heinz, and there’s no need to stand on ceremony, we’re all staff.”

  Gesa laughed. “Great. Okay, looking forward to working with you, Heinz.”

  Gesa, we’d learned from Marleen the night before, was studying in Oldenburg. Her parents lived two doors down from the guesthouse, and she’d been helping out at Haus Theda since she was a schoolgirl. Now she was back home for the summer vacation and wanted to earn a little extra money.

  Marleen dried her hands and threw the tea towel over a chair.

  “Good, Gesa, you can make a start in the breakfast room with Christine. We don’t have any departures or arrivals, so everything’s pretty straightforward. I’m going over to the restaurant with Heinz now. Oh, and if you could have a quick look in the garden first to check everything’s okay there.”

  She winked at me and nudged my father out of the kitchen.

  “See you later. I’ll come back afterward.”

  I turned around to Gesa, who was pouring herself a coffee.

  “Would you like one too? I always need a coffee and a cigarette out on the lounge chairs before I start my shift.” She smiled shyly. “My parents don’t know I smoke. It’s silly, isn’t it? I mean, I’m twenty-four.”

  My heart lifted. “Yes, I’d love another coffee. And by the way, I’m forty-five, my father doesn’t like me smoking either, and now we’re on vacation together for two weeks.”

  “So you’re not smoking at the moment?”

  “Of course I am. But secretly. I don’t want to get caught. You don’t know my father yet!”

  After a delightful quarter of an hour spent sitting out in the morning sun with a cigarette, Gesa showed me what I’d have to do every morning for the next two weeks. I was to take care of the breakfast while she did the rooms.

  “Normally Kathi, my sister, does it, but she’s pulled a muscle in her foot. My mother thought she was just making a big fuss, so Kathi just got on with it. But now it’s inflamed and she’s on antibiotics, and she isn’t allowed to put any weight on it.”

  “Why didn’t your sister go to the doctor? I wouldn’t have listened to what my mother said.”

  “My mother is a doctor.”

  “Oh…”

  “She was always worried about coddling us.”

  That was one way of looking at it. It seemed quite a few people had strange parents.

  By the time Dorothea came to breakfast I had cleared three tables, made four pots of coffee, put more cold meats out, and already learned the names of three of the guests. She wore cutoff jeans and a colorful T-shirt. On her way in, she’d run into Gesa taking a washing basket down to the cellar. They’d hit it off at once, and Gesa decided we should take a short coffee break in the garden.

  While Dorothea sat on the lounge chair and ate her breakfast, Gesa told us the wonderful love story of Hubert and Theda.

  “Hubert comes from Essen and has some huge factory there, no idea what kind, but it doesn’t matter. In any case, he’s loaded. I’ve known him since I was little. He used to come every summer with his wife. Four or five years ago, she died. Hubert only started coming back again the year before last. And he started asking Theda out to dinner. At first she turned him down. I don’t think she’d been out with a man since Otto died twenty years ago. But in the end she said yes. That’s how it all started.”

  Dorothea
swallowed her mouthful. “And how old are they both?”

  Gesa thought for a moment. “I think Theda is almost seventy, and Hubert’s seventy-four or seventy-five.”

  “See, Christine, and we thought we were done with love when we reached forty. It sounds like we have plenty of time yet.”

  I found the story very romantic. “And how long have they been a couple?”

  “Wait…Marleen came to the island last June and they’ve been off traveling since August. So roughly a year.”

  Dorothea sighed. “What a lovely story. It calms my impatient heart. Someday, Christine, our Huberts will come to find us. Cheers!”

  We solemnly raised our coffee cups.

  “Where’s Heinz?” Dorothea asked, breaking my romantic mood.

  “Marleen took him over to the restaurant, but that was an hour ago now. Hopefully everything’s fine.”

  I stood up abruptly. Gesa looked at me, bemused. “Why wouldn’t it be? Is there a problem?”

  Dorothea drank the rest of her coffee down calmly. “Nothing’s wrong, not with Marleen in any case. It’s just that Christine doesn’t have her father in hand. He can be, how shall I put it, a little spontaneous at times.”

  Gesa looked even more confused. I tried to explain.

  “My father isn’t fond of traveling. In fact, he usually doesn’t go anywhere, at least not without my mother. That’s why he’s a little flustered. It’s a first for him.”

  “Flustered, that’s a good way of putting it.” Dorothea laughed. “Gesa, don’t let his daughter scare you off. Heinz is really good fun. Let’s go over now and take a look. Either Marleen has strangled him with an electricity cable or he’s made at least eight new friends. I’d say the latter is more likely. By the way, Christine, you have something on your leg.”

  “I drink to you, Marie.” My father’s voice was louder than Frank Zander’s, whose schmaltzy hit was blaring out of the radio. “To what we once haaaaad…”