by Dora Heldt
He pushed Kalli and Onno through the door. As I turned around, I saw Johann’s face in front of me. Hazel-brown eyes. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say.
“Well.”
“I wanted to explain it all earlier today. I just didn’t know where to start. Do you have any more questions?”
“Why Thiess?”
“It was my mother’s maiden name. I didn’t want to check in under my own name; I thought it would be obvious that Hubert was my father. And Pookie, my aunt Margarete, that is, was basing things on the assumption that my father was the victim of a young, impoverished siren intent on blowing my inheritance. She couldn’t stop worrying about it. And when Pookie wants something, it’s very hard to disagree with her.”
I felt unbelievably relieved. And guilty for not having trusted him. He tenderly stroked a strand of hair away from my face.
“We can start again from the beginning. Although I was quite amused that old men in Gucci sunglasses were following me around the whole time. It made me feel like a celebrity. Come on, let’s have a drink to celebrate the opening and toast our fathers.”
The opening party was like something from a movie. I went from table to table, collecting flowers and presents for Marleen, and whenever I looked over at Johann, I caught him already looking at me. My father had a long conversation with the mayor, then the pastor, and later on I saw him chatting over a drink with Margarete. Gisbert crept over to me from behind, and I dropped my glass when I heard him speak.
“Well the evidence really seemed overwhelming. But then I always say it’s better to be careful than suddenly dead.”
“Yes, of course, Gisbert, that’s very wise of you. Have you interviewed all the guests now?”
“Almost.” He puffed out his chest. “On the whole, Nordeney residents are very open to talking to the press.”
Then Marleen called me over, so unfortunately I had to leave him there.
Nordeney people liked to celebrate. The last of the guests were there until the evening. After Marleen had sent Suse and her two colleagues off with their tips, she looked around her in the bar, which Dorothea and I took as a call to arms, starting to gather up glasses and ashtrays. Marleen came over to us.
“No, we’ll do that later. Right now we’re going to put one of the big tables outside and drink champagne. Come on, Onno and Kalli can help us carry it.”
When Marleen, Dorothea, and I got out there with the glasses and bottles, the others had already settled around the table. My father sat between Margarete and Hubert, with Johann opposite, saving a seat for me, then Onno, Kalli, and Carsten opposite Gesa, along with Nils and his mother. Theda sat to the left of Margarete, but even their loud discussion couldn’t drown out the stories my father was telling Hubert.
“Marleen would have been up the creek without a paddle without us. I don’t know how the girls would have handled it by themselves. It wouldn’t have worked, dealing with those workmen by themselves…”
Onno looked up. “Are there still some of those little kebabs left on the buffet?”
Gesa stood up to have a look. I handed out the glasses and sat down. My father looked at me.
“So, Chrissie? Now everything’s just fine, you see. As I’ve always said, things are never as bad as they seem. And you were so lovesick.” He turned to Hubert. “That really broke my heart. It’s unbearable, seeing your children so sad.”
Hubert took my hand in sympathy. I pulled it away.
“It’s fine, Dad. I’m fine. Hubert, there’s no need to comfort me anymore.”
He sighed. “All these goings-on. I had no idea who this con man was, until I suddenly saw my son and my sister on the beach when I was looking at the seagulls with the children. I thought I’d been hit by a thunderbolt.”
“And we thought we were being so careful.” Margarete took her glass and toasted us. “Johann, I’m afraid you really aren’t suited to be a detective.”
“I didn’t enjoy it much either.” He nodded to his aunt. “And especially when you see other people doing it properly, that’s when it gets really frustrating. Carsten, Kalli, your camouflage was first class.”
My father leaned over to me. “But you behaved a little stupidly too. You could have tried to explain.”
I almost choked. “Dad, you surely don’t believe that. You were utterly convinced you were right.”
“Oh, that was just Gisbert’s hysteria. You know what these media types are like. Where is he anyway?”
Gesa came back from the buffet with full plates. “Here’s the rest. Gisbert gave Suse a lift home. I think he liked her.”
Dorothea grinned. “On the moped? The poor girl.”
I felt Johann’s hand on my knee and pushed my leg a little closer to him. My father seemed to notice.
“Tell me, Hubert, can your son afford to look after my daughter?”
“Dad. Please.”
I went red. Johann just laughed. My father looked at him disapprovingly.
“There’s nothing funny about that. One has to ask. By the way, I’m not sure what your plans are, but I’d like to bring your attention to the fact that I still have a week of vacation to spend here with my daughter. It’s very important for a woman to have a stable relationship with her father. I mean, of course you can arrange to meet up, but just so the priorities are clear.”
“Of course.” Johann held my father’s gaze. “By the way, Pookie, did you tell your brother you’re planning to buy an apartment here?”
Hubert looked up in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes.” Margarete nodded. “I’ve fallen completely in love with the island, and I think family should stick together in old age. And given you’ll be here quite often now, I thought it was a good idea. I’ve already looked at one. It’s lovely, but there’s a lot of work that needs to be done on it.”
Kalli leaned forward. “Where is it?”
“Right around the corner, in that yellow house over there. I want to go and have another look at it later. It’s already empty, but as I said, it needs to be completely renovated.”
My father finished his glass of champagne and shuddered.
“I don’t know what you see in this stuff, it just gives me heartburn. I have to stretch my legs. Margarete, shall we have a quick look at the apartment now?”
She looked at her watch. “Why not? The owner is there now.”
“Great.” My father stood up. “Onno, Kalli, Carsten, let’s go. We’ll figure out what needs to be done.”
Margarete picked up her purse and stood up. The four men let her lead the way.
At the door my father turned around.
“In case this takes a while and you head off somewhere, be home by ten, Christine.”
“Dad!”
“Heinz!”
“Okay, fine, but not too late, then. You know how I worry, and then I won’t be able to sleep. Okay, have fun.”
He had eyes like Paul Newman.
Nordeney, July 30
Hi Mom,
Here are some photos from the opening. I may not be Gisbert von Meyer’s biggest fan, but he sure does take a good photo. I’ve written on the back of them who’s who so you can put names to faces. I have to say, my favorite is the one of Dad giving Marleen her present, a beaten-up old fishing net. Just look at her face! Now that’s composure. I’m so pleased you’re coming on Wednesday. I understand you’ll be on the 1:15 ferry, so I’ll pick you up from the harbor. Dad said he won’t spend every day working on Margarete’s apartment, because he wants to show you the island himself, and apparently Kalli would make such a mess of explaining everything. At the moment Dad’s painting the walls light yellow; he thinks its champagne-colored, but luckily Margarete likes it. That’s what she says, anyway. She really is lovely. I’m doing great; I’ve been spending every day on the beach. Dad only insists that we eat together in the evening, which means him, Kalli, Onno, Carsten, Hubert, Theda, Marleen, Dorothea, Nils, Johann, and I. He’s gotten so used to us all having
dinner together, you see.
So, until Wednesday, everyone sends their best.
Christine
P.S. It’s possible that Dad might want to stay another week. He says they want to get everything finished. Margarete would be stuck without him. I’m sure you can sympathize.
Acknowledgments
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A thank you to Helga Lübben and Gila Hass for their help and the evenings we spent together in various Nordeney bars, to Marion Bluhm for creative walks on the beach, to Dr. Rainer Moritz for a Schlager-themed chat over coffee in the Literature House, to the famous tour guide Rudi Schmidt for all the Sylt stories, to Fernando Aco, Jürgen Fiedler, Mathias Gross, Heinz Gumpelmayr, Petra Heuckeroth, Josef Kager, Leo Lang, Heinz Marti, Michael Messer, Ulrike Raapke, Andrea Roos, Heinz-Andrea Spychiger, Christoph Viering, and especially Claus Keller, to Joachim Jessen and the agency Thomas Schlück, and, of course, the whole editorial team, Michael Muselmann, and once again to Silvia Schmid.
Dora Heldt
P.S. And, in addition, to Fritz-P. Steinle, whom I put through so much trouble. Thank you.
About the Author
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Photograph © Regina Geisler
Dora Heldt was born in 1961 on the North Sea island of Sylt. She was trained as a bookseller and has worked in publishing since 1992. Chaperoned was one of Germany’s bestselling titles of 2008, spending sixty-two weeks on the hardcover bestseller list and sixty-five weeks on the paperback bestseller list. Heldt is also the author of Life After Forty and Inseparable, and her books have sold more than 2.5 million copies in Germany. She lives today in Hamburg.
About the Translator
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Photo courtesy of the translator.
Jamie Lee Searle is a German-to-English translator who translates literary fiction, short stories, and articles for publishers and organizations throughout Europe and the United States. She also teaches German language and translation to undergraduate students. She is cofounder of the publishing collective And Other Stories, which seeks to promote and publish international literature in translation in the United Kingdom. She lives in London.