by Dora Heldt
“Well, your father is a much better judge. He knows your face by heart.”
“You see,” said Heinz contentedly. “And as I said, your eyes look strange today. Put the eyedrops in, then they’ll be better in no time. Right, I’m going to hang the lamps. Onno, stop staring at my daughter, that’s not going to help her any. Come on, men, back to work.”
I varnished the baseboards to the tune of “Look into My Eyes,” sung by both Margot Hielscher on the radio and by my father, at the top of his voice, up on the ladder. As he turned around to me to belt out the chorus, the ladder started to wobble.
“Heinz! You’re going to break your neck at this rate.” Marleen had snuck in unnoticed and quick-wittedly grabbed hold of the ladder. “And if you’re going to, please don’t do it in my restaurant.”
“Otherwise she’ll be in for it, because of the labor laws.” Onno, who was rummaging around in his toolbox as he spoke, looked up for a moment. “But we could always say he fell off his bike. Then he can claim on his own insurance and we’ll be in the clear.”
“You’re all so horribly brutal sometimes.” My father climbed cautiously down from the ladder. “Life is about things like empathy, love, humanity. But you don’t know a thing about that, and it will come and bite you in the behind, mark my words, then you’ll remember—”
Marleen interrupted him. “I steadied your ladder for you, remember. And with regard to humanity, there’s something you could do for me.”
He smiled at her indulgently. “Of course. Is it about the children? Or do you need a hand over in the guesthouse?”
“Neither. Someone needs to pick Hubert up from the station—he has a lot of luggage with him.”
My father stopped smiling and climbed back up his ladder.
“Well, then he can take a taxi. Unlike him, we don’t have time to be cruising around the world.”
“Dad!”
“Heinz.”
“It’s true.” My father grappled with the lamp cables. “Ouch!”
The ladder started to wobble again, and this time Marleen, Kalli, and I all grabbed it at the same time. “I got a shock. Why isn’t the power off? Are you trying to kill me?” He stared angrily at Marleen. “That was a close call.”
She held his gaze. “I don’t have anything to do with whether the power’s on over here.”
“But it’s your restaurant.”
“Dad, that’s enough.” I figured now was as good a time as any for me to stick my nose in. “I’ll pick Hubert up, then. What does he look like?”
Marleen turned around to Kalli. “You already know him, remember?” she said. They had compared notes on their mutual acquaintances a few days before. “It’s best if you go with her to the harbor. I’m sure Hubert will be pleased to see you.”
Kalli nodded, looking at my father at the same time. He looked uncertain, as if he had a sign on his forehead reading: “Please don’t think I’m a traitor.” By now, though, Heinz had calmed down again. “It’s silly if Kalli goes with Christine. Kalli and I can go. I’ll just go and wash my hands quickly.”
Carsten held my father back. “I know what Hubert looks like, so I can go instead of Christine.”
“Nonsense, I’ll do it.”
He disappeared. “What’s so silly about Kalli going?” Marleen asked after he left.
I shrugged my shoulders. “No idea. But it’s better this way. You know, when I was little we had two tomcats and then we got another one. The vet told us to just lock them all in a room together straight off, so they could fight out their rank. I’m sure it will work even better in a car.”
“And how did it turn out?”
“The new one lost. When we let them out, he was missing a little piece of his ear.”
Kalli grimaced. “That’s horrible. But what does it have to do with us?”
Marleen bit back her laughter, and I tried to answer first: “Nothing. But it’s probably best if Hubert sits in the back of the car.”
I went back to my baseboards and left a puzzled-looking Kalli alone with his thoughts.
Once I had finished varnishing the last few feet of baseboards, I looked at the clock. My father and Kalli had been gone over an hour now. Could I have invoked some catastrophe with my memories of the tomcats? I stood up slowly and pressed my hands into the small of my back. Stooping down like this wasn’t great for women of my age, especially not after such little sleep.
Onno looked at me. “Hey, what about lunch?”
“Are you hungry?”
“I sure am; it’s already long past midday. Do we have to wait until Kalli and Heinz get back?” He stood hesitantly next to the bar. “I’ve finished this row here, but I’m too hungry to do the rest.”
Carsten was wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. “I’ll get a headache if I don’t have something to eat. And I can’t even begin to tell you how thirsty I am.”
“I’ll go and see if they’re back yet. You can come with me if you like.”
The space where Marleen’s car was usually parked was empty. But Gisbert’s moped was next to the back door. He was sitting inside, at the kitchen table, and talking nonstop at Marleen as she set the table.
“…And then he looked around for a second and disappeared into the entrance of the Georg Hotel. He must have thought he’d shaken me off, but there was no chance of that. When Gisbert von Meyer does something, he does it properly. I hope he knows who he’s dealing with. Anyway—”
“It’s lunchtime,” said Onno, looking unimpressed as he sat down. “What is it?”
“The con man is stalking around the Georg Hotel.” Gisbert’s squeaky voice was cracking.
“No, I meant, what are we having for lunch?”
“Meatballs.” Marleen put water glasses down on the table. Gisbert looked at her, lost for words, then gripped Onno’s arm. “Did you hear what I said? The con man!”
“Yes, yes, I heard you.” Onno looked around. “With potato salad?”
Marleen put a dish down. “Of course. Here you go, you can make a start. Kalli just rang; Hubert is treating him and Heinz to lunch as a thank-you for picking him up.”
I nearly choked. Hopefully that wasn’t cover for an ear injury.
Gisbert was gasping for air. “Is no one listening to me? The con man’s back, I almost caught him in the act, and you’re all talking about meatballs?”
“Where did you catch him?” I asked.
“He went into the hotel to look for his next victim.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Christine! Why are none of you taking this seriously? There’s danger ahead. Onno, you say something. Or you, Carsten.”
Carsten gestured regretfully at his full mouth.
“Marleen, do you have ketchup? What am I supposed to say?” Onno gave Gisbert a friendly look.
By now, Gisbert was breathing so fast that his whole face was completely red. As I watched it changing color, I thought about Johann’s face and how wonderful it looked while he slept. A feeling of tenderness washed over me, closely followed by guilt that I still hadn’t told the others Johann had absolutely nothing to do with the wanted con man from Emden. Gisbert was in such a state that I almost felt sorry for him.
“Gisbert,” I said as I pushed a glass of water toward him, “you shouldn’t get so worked up. I don’t know who you were spying on in the Georg Hotel, but there is such a thing as the police, and they can take care of it, you should just—”
He had his breathing back under control. “Who I was spying on? That guest of course—Thiess, Johann Thiess, the guy who allegedly lives in Bremen, takes photos of everything, the one who was putting the moves on you and Mechthild and Hannelore and God knows who else, and—”
“Gisbert.” Marleen put her hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. Isn’t it possible that you’re mistaken? I really believe Herr Thiess is harmless, and that it was all just a misunderstanding.”
I threw her a look of gratitude, then jumped when Gisbert suddenly s
macked his hand down on the table.
“He’s already lulled you in, I can’t believe it! There’s the proof. He wraps women around his little finger, that’s part of the scam. And you’re all just falling at his feet.”
His face was wracked with pure desperation.
I tried to keep a straight face, and looked around at the others. For a while, everyone was silent. Then Onno cleared his throat.
“Tell me, Gisbert?”
“Yes?”
“If you’re not having your meatballs, can I have them?”
Slowly, Gisbert stood up and took his jacket from the back of the chair. Pushing the chair back under the table, he looked at us.
“If you don’t want to hear it, then fine. I only hope that you don’t come crying to me when this trickster leaves you with broken hearts and empty bank accounts. I warned you. When Heinz and Kalli come back, tell them plan B and location G—they’ll know what it means. Enjoy your meal.”
He slammed the door behind him. Onno jumped.
“My God, he’s always so tense. And whose heart is this Thiess guy supposed to have broken?”
Marleen and I looked at each other and pushed our meatballs over to him. Onno smiled.
After lunch, Onno, Carsten, and I went back to the restaurant. Neither my father nor Kalli had turned up yet. Marleen had headed off to her office to organize the arrival of the furniture for the next day. Onno put the radio on and Carsten started singing along. Thinking that if I heard one more Schlager hit in two years’ time it would still be too soon, I started longing to see Johann. With my back to the two men I typed a text message to him: “Where are you? Miss you, kisses, C.”
I started to clean the windows. After the third one I heard a car outside, then the sound of doors slamming and my father’s laughter. With relief, I noted that it wasn’t the laugh of someone who had just bitten off another person’s ear.
The door opened and a tall man followed my father and Kalli into the room.
“We’re back.” My father stopped by the bar. “Onno, climb down from the ladder a second, will you? Carsten, Christine, may I introduce the fifth member of our troop? This is Hubert, a fine man, and an amateur bird-watcher too, by the way. He’s a good handyman and drinks wheat beer too, just like me. Hubert, this is Carsten, the father of our interior designer. And this is my daughter Christine. She normally looks better than this, by the way, but there’s something wrong with her eyes.”
Hubert came over and made a little bow as he shook my hand.
“Lovely to meet you, Christine. And your eyes look beautiful.”
“That’s enough of that now,” my father interrupted, wiping the pleased smile off my face. Hubert was truly charming. He would certainly be competition for the now-famous island tour guide. I wondered what the two ladies would make of him. Hubert greeted Carsten and Onno, then looked around him.
“You’re all finished already.” He sounded a little disappointed. “What can I do?”
“Just enjoy your holiday.” Marleen came in, a basket of thermos flasks, plates, and cake in her hands, and put them down on the table. “Hello, Hubert, lovely to see you.” She hugged her aunt’s sweetheart and then took a step back. “You look younger every day; Theda and the constant traveling seem to agree with you.”
Hubert stroked back his hair, flattered, and gave a shy smile. “Well, you do what you can,” he said. “But listen, there’s nothing left to do here. I promised Theda I’d help you out.”
“Well, we’re not quite finished. We still need to clean, and the wall sockets aren’t in yet…”
“I handle everything to do with the electrics.” Onno was clearly fighting for his territory. “Just so that’s clear.”
Hubert shrugged amiably. “That’s fine with me. I don’t have a clue about electrics. So, why are those blueprints hanging on the walls?”
My father lifted one of them up by an inch. “They’re protecting Dorothea’s wall paintings.” He nodded proudly. “After all, they’re works of art and need to be treated accordingly.”
Carsten bobbed up and down importantly. “The artist is my son’s girlfriend,” he said.
“Oh, enough of that.” My father let the blueprint fall back down again. “We knew her first. Let’s wait and see if the thing with Nils actually turns into something before you start calling her his girlfriend.”
Hubert looked from one of them to the other, baffled. Marleen put her arm in his and led him over to the table.
“Either way,” she said, “you’ll get to meet Dorothea and Nils soon enough. Now let’s have a coffee and I’ll tell you what there’s still left to do.”
“For Hubert, not much.” My father looked for the decaf coffee. “You can’t make a former factory owner do the cleaning.”
“Why not?” Onno took a piece of cake. “It has to be done, and I don’t have the time with all the electrics I still need to do.”
My father put a piece of cherry cake on my plate. It was the only piece and my favorite. I smiled at him gratefully.
“Christine can clean. She can get into the little corners easier with her little women’s hands.”
Suddenly, the cake didn’t taste quite so sweet. I looked around at the large, dusty room. “And I’m supposed to do all that before tomorrow morning by myself? Where’s Gesa, anyway?”
“At the gym.” Marleen poured me a coffee. “But she’ll be back later. And Dorothea rang yesterday evening to say she’ll be back around four today. So, what do we still need to explain to Hubert?”
“Nothing at all.” Kalli was stirring milk into his coffee with a flourish. “We already filled him in on everything at lunch. Heinz drew a little plan, too, of where the furniture should be put tomorrow and so on.”
“Marleen, you don’t need to worry about a thing.” My father pulled the cakes closer toward him. “Can I have the butter cake? I’ll explain to Nils later why we’re changing a few things.”
Marleen tensed up. I gave her a nudge under the table, and she took a deep breath.
“Oh, Hubert, there’s a few things we need to discuss in the office, so why don’t you bring your coffee over? Heinz, Kalli, and Carsten can take care of the rest here.”
“But I wanted to—”
Marleen stood up and interrupted his protests.
“Hubert, it’s best if you bring your coffee and we can chat right away. I have to go into town afterward.”
My father gave him a soothing pat on the shoulder. “You take your time; nothing exciting is going to happen here anyway. But we’ll talk this evening, about you know what…”
He looked at his new pal in a conspiratorial way and put his finger to his lips. Marleen and I groaned in unison.
“Please don’t keep going on about this con man nonsense. And don’t bring Hubert into it too.” I tried to give him my best reprimanding look, but it didn’t seem to work.
“What do you mean, nonsense? We’re talking about hard facts. And by the way, you were supposed to give us a message from Gisbert, but no worries, luckily we ran into him in town. He’s right, you should keep out of it. But anyway, Hubert, we’ll meet at eight on the lounge chairs.”
I decided to have a sneaky cigarette outside and call my mother.
Caught in the Act
* * *
My mother picked up after two rings.
“So? How’s the work going?”
“We’ll be done by the end of today. There are just a few small things to do and then the cleaning. How’s your knee?”
My mother sighed. “Don’t ask. It hurts. I thought it would all be much easier than this. But it can’t be helped, I’m doing everything the doctors and physiotherapists tell me to. I’m just looking forward to getting back home. Anyway, that’s enough of my moaning. Tell me, what’s new?”
“Hubert arrived today, you know, Marleen’s aunt’s partner. Theda’s coming tomorrow. She’s staying with a friend and sent Hubert on ahead.”
“Ah, then he can give you
a hand.”
“Well, he wanted to, but it doesn’t seem that men do cleaning; they made that quite clear, anyway.”
“Oh well, Christine, perhaps that’s for the best.”
“Mom, please. What’s so wrong with men doing the cleaning?”
My mother laughed softly. “Your father or Kalli with a mop, just imagine it. They wouldn’t even know which end goes in the bucket.”
“I don’t think it’s funny. Men like that are only incapable because we’ve always cleaned up after them.”
“Oh, let’s not start up with the feminist debate now, shall we? My knee hurts too much.”
“Okay, fine. Have you already spoken to Dad today?”
“Yes, at lunchtime. Hey, what’s wrong with your eyes? Did you go to the clinic?”
“Of course not. They were just a little puffy because I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Your father’s version of the story was quite different.”
“You know him. You weren’t worried, were you?”
“Not really. If you’d really looked as bad as he’d described, there’s not much I could have done to help anyway. So why didn’t you get enough sleep?”
Mothers always pick up on the undertones.
“I met up with Johann.”
“Dad’s con man?”
“That’s the one.”
“And?”
“It was lovely.”
“Then you should have a word with your father. He told me earlier that there’s a conspiratorial meeting tonight. This young man, Gisbert or Gert or whatever…”
“Gisbert von Meyer.”
“Exactly, he said he has proof and that they’re planning to strike tomorrow. Those were his exact words. Hopefully Heinz won’t make a fool of himself. You know how he gets when he has an idea fixed in his head.”
“Yes, I sure do.”
“Then speak to him. It would probably be best if you introduce your young man to him right away.”
“Dad would knock him out.”
“Oh, nonsense. You always exaggerate things. You didn’t get that from me, you know. Okay, here comes my nice physical therapist; I have to do some training. Have fun cleaning. Speak to you soon.”