Inseparable

by Heldt,Dora

  Her voice sounded raw. She coughed and pushed her sunglasses up. The light had turned green again and the table was still free. Christine didn’t hesitate this time around.

  “Come on, quick, there’s a free table over there, and I’d like to have a drink.” Quickening her pace, she reached the table just a few seconds before two other women who were after the same goal. Christine’s flowers were on the table before her rival’s grocery bags. The woman threw Christine an angry look, then turned around to her companion.

  “Let’s go inside; it’s too loud out here anyway.”

  Christine sat down with a smile and waited for Ruth, who was standing aside to let their opponents pass.

  “What’s gotten into you? Is this the only free table in the neighborhood or something?”

  “No, but I’d already decided to go for it before I saw you, and I wasn’t about to change my mind.” She looked at Ruth, who sank down into the chair, breathing heavily.

  “What are you doing here anyway?”

  Ruth unbuttoned her jacket, ran her hands through her hair, and straightened her sunglasses. She seemed flustered and a little strained.

  “I had an appointment.”

  “Aha.” Christine had learned in a seminar once that giving monosyllabic answers makes the person feel they’re perhaps not being taken entirely seriously, but being listened to all the same. She flicked through the menu quickly as she saw the waiter approaching the table.

  “I’d like a glass of the house red and a glass of water please. And you, Ruth?”

  “The same.”

  Christine had expected Ruth to want to hear the various wine choices first. It was unlike her to order so quickly. Something was different. Christine thought back to her lunch with Gabi and what she had said about Ruth having a lover. She hadn’t seen her for weeks. Ruth had suggested she take a break from writing the columns for Kult, and Christine had been very grateful for the suggestion.

  “By the way, I really liked your ‘Catfight’ column in Femme. I met up with Ellen Wagner recently, and she’s over the moon to be working with you.”

  “It’s fun, and I like having her as a boss, too. But it takes up more time than I thought it would.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Christine didn’t get the impression Ruth was really that interested.

  “Was the Uschi character based on anyone?”

  “Uschi who?”

  “The one in the column. The one with the lover, in the sauna.”

  Christine realized what Ruth was getting at. “Ruth, I surely don’t have to tell you that it’s all made up! I can’t just tell stories about real people.”

  “Have you spoken to Gabi recently? About me?”

  Christine lied, “No, why should I have?”

  “Well, sometimes things come up, you might have.” Ruth stared at her fingernails. Then she looked up. “OK, I can tell you, too, but please keep it to yourself. I was looking at an apartment here just now, for me. A really wonderful place; I’d love to take it. Right here, over the hairdressers. We’d almost be neighbors! But unfortunately there are a lot of prospective tenants interested. So the estate agent couldn’t say either way, and has gone to see the owner now. She’s getting back to me later.”

  Christine waited. Ruth didn’t look like she was done. She didn’t need any prompting either.

  “I met someone over the summer. You know, it happens. I don’t know whether you know Karsten; I think you met him once. Well, anyway, things have really gotten into a rut between us. When I met Markus, it really turned things upside down for me. I really did want to make a decision, and I just needed a little more time. But then someone told Karsten. There was a huge scene: as I walked into the hotel with Markus, Karsten was sitting there in the foyer. So, that was the end of us. Karsten asked me to move out; after all, it is his apartment. I just don’t know what lowlife told him. It’s so unfair.”

  Christine, who had been holding her breath, exhaled deeply.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say it’s unfair…but at least it’s brought things out in the open. How are you handling it?”

  Ruth was rubbing her hand over a water mark on the table.

  “It annoys me that someone felt the need to stick their oar in. I think it was Gabi, but Karsten won’t tell me. And I’m annoyed about having to move. And that Karsten is being so difficult about the whole thing. He can’t have cared that much about me after all.”

  Oh Ruth, thought Christine, your view of the world is really quite extraordinary.

  Ruth seemed to read Christine’s mind. “I know that all sounds pretty cold. But it’s not that easy. Karsten and I have been together since we left high school; that’s almost fifteen years. In that time we’ve separated at least four times, and we’ve always gotten back together again. And to be honest, the last two times I had the feeling we were both just too lazy to look for someone new, let alone live alone. We’ve just gotten used to one another. Although maybe that just means you’re not experiencing any more unpleasant surprises. We haven’t talked about our relationship for years; why would we? I go with him to the doctor’s ball, and he comes with me to the publishing house Christmas party. Over the years our relationship has become more like a business. He’s not exactly devastated either.”

  “So why did he make a scene in the hotel?”

  “Who knows? Perhaps his male pride was injured. Maybe he thought he had to act like the enraged husband, no idea. But it was very effective.”

  Ruth’s cell started to ring, and she pulled it out of her bag.

  “Ruth Johannis.”

  She listened, concentrating, for a moment, then looked at the clock. “I could be there in half an hour. Or would tomorrow morning work, too?” She looked at Christine and gave a thumbs up. “No, no, then I’ll come right away. That’s great, see you then.”

  She snapped her cell shut and punched the air jubilantly. “Yes! That was the estate agent. The owner is going on holiday tomorrow and wants to settle the contract today. He liked my application, so the other viewings have been canceled and I can sign right away. I have to go now. Can you pay for me?”

  She was already up, pulling her jacket on.

  “Oh, Christine, I completely forgot to tell you. When you were out sick earlier in the week, a guy came by the publishing house to see you, Sven I think his name was. He was actually coming to meet Mathias, but he wasn’t there. He came over to us in Editorial and asked me for your phone number.”

  Christine was surprised to feel her heartbeat quicken.

  “And?”

  Ruth looked at her, amazed. “I don’t just go around giving your number out, you know, he could be some psychopath. OK, well, I’ll call you, bye.”

  Christine watched Ruth as she ran across the road.

  Sven, she thought, hmmm.

  Lübeck

  Frauke was just pressing the button on the coffee machine when the doorbell rang. She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. Three o’clock. Gudrun was on time, as always.

  She heard Lisa open the door.

  “Hi, Mom’s in the kitchen. Mom, Gudrun’s here. And I’m off to Insa’s. Bye.”

  Gudrun answered, “Don’t yell in my ear like that. It’s fine just to let me in.”

  The house door slammed shut, and moments later Gudrun appeared in the kitchen.

  “My God, your daughter has a pair of lungs on her, Frauke. Wow! You’ve been to the hair salon; you look amazing.”

  They hugged; then Gudrun pushed Frauke away from her for a better look.

  “Hey, you look completely different. What’s up, have you gotten yourself a lover or something? Or is it some new miracle cream? And if so, what’s it called?”

  Frauke laughed and freed herself from her grasp. “Sit down; I’ll tell you in a minute. By the way, I have an idea.”

  Frauke and Gudrun had known each other since their school days. Back then, they weren’t close friends but were always in the sam
e group. After school they had lost touch for several years; then, after Gunnar took over the car salesroom in Lübeck, they bought a house on the edge of the city and had met their new neighbors at a street party: Gudrun and Hannes. Frauke had been pregnant with Lisa back then, and Gudrun was working as a medical assistant. They hadn’t been able to have children: she had come to terms with that, but Hannes hadn’t. Three years later he had left her for Bettina, who already had a daughter from her first marriage. They went on to have another three together.

  Gudrun had handled it all well on the outside. She hadn’t wanted alimony from Hannes, but insisted on having the house. He wrote it over to her; she renovated it completely and then began her new life.

  She was now a managerial secretary in the university clinic, had learned English and Spanish, took two big vacations a year, went to a fitness studio, and was enjoying a relaxed, casual relationship with Carlos, a Spanish pediatrician from Kiel. She had just been to his hometown with him for a three-week holiday and looked tanned and happy.

  She sat down at the kitchen table and watched Frauke as she took the coffee cups from the cupboard.

  “You’ve lost weight, too.”

  Frauke turned around to her and smiled. “Is it already noticeable?”

  “It sure is. How much have you lost?”

  “Ten pounds,” said Frauke proudly. “And my hair? You don’t think it’s too short?”

  Her hair, which used to be shoulder length and usually thrown up haphazardly into a ponytail, was now cut just above her jaw line, curled, and highlighted. Gudrun was impressed.

  “You look completely different. I’d totally forgotten you had it in you. You look ten years younger. Now please, tell me what brought all this on.”

  As Frauke told her about the invitation to Christine’s birthday, about Lisa’s comments, her frustration, and the resolutions she had made afterwards, Gudrun noticed how her friend’s eyes were sparkling and how different her voice sounded. She was so amazed at this transformation that she hardly registered whose birthday they were talking about. Frauke stood up and fetched the envelope.

  “And this is the questionnaire. I copied it for you before I filled it out. Mine is almost done. If you can do yours before the weekend I can mail them both back together.”

  Gudrun waved her hand defensively. “Wait, I’m being a bit slow on the uptake here. Who was Christine Schmidt anyway? She wasn’t in my class.”

  Frauke rolled her eyes. “Oh, Gudrun, you can never remember anyone we talk about—it’s like you’ve just suppressed all your schooldays. Anyway, you’re invited because I told Gabi that I’m still in touch with you. Christine was in my class; we all did dance class together, then we spent practically a whole summer at the outdoor swimming pool together, with Björn, Alex, and Ingo. You must remember that.”

  Gudrun looked clueless; clearly none of the names rang a bell with her. Frauke shook her head and picked up the blue photo album, which she started to flick through.

  “Here.” She tapped her finger at a photo of eight girls and four boys, all in colorful outfits and smiling into the camera. “That’s you, that’s me, and this is Christine. It was the graduation ball at the Schröder Hotel, for heaven’s sake. And you were there.”

  Gudrun looked at the photo. Suddenly the penny dropped.

  “Oh, Christine! Now I know who you mean, I was thinking of someone else. I thought it was the red-haired girl who used to go with Stefan Matthes. I couldn’t stand her.”

  Frauke looked at her impatiently. “She was called Christiane, and she was in the year below us.”

  Gudrun looked at the photo thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s coming back to me now. Of course I knew Christine, but back when you were both friends I didn’t know her that well. It was only later, when I was with Torsten. He had a sister, Antje, and she was Christine’s best friend. That’s right. They were both in our clique, so we saw each other a lot back then. That was a fun time. I took Christine riding with me a few times, but she didn’t really get into it. And besides, Antje used to get jealous: given I was already going out with her brother, she didn’t want me spending time with her best friend, too.”

  Frauke looked relieved. “So you’re not as senile as I thought after all. Antje was one of the reasons Christine and I didn’t see each other so much as time went on. She pushed herself between us and could never stand me.”

  “And of course you didn’t put up a fight.” Gudrun looked at her friend, shaking her head. “How can you just let someone push you aside like that?”

  “Well, there were other reasons, too; my parents built a new house for us in the next village, and we didn’t have the same route to school anymore. The bus connections were bad, and, well, the lovely Antje didn’t want anyone stealing her thunder. When you’re fifteen you don’t really have the self-confidence to stand up to a girl like Antje. She was so pretty and sporty, always wearing designer jeans, and so confident. You knew her, too, so you know what I mean.”

  “Well, Antje must have been invited to this, too, so we’ll have the pleasure of seeing her again.”

  Frauke nodded. “I’m assuming so. I can’t wait. Oh, and there’s something else: I wanted to ask if you’d go shopping with me beforehand.” She looked both shy and excited at the same time. “I have no idea what to wear.”

  Gudrun was surprised to see that Frauke had the same expression she’d had in some of the old photos. There was something moving about it.

  “Of course. We’ll have a real power-shopping day. And by the end of it you’ll be a bombshell again.”

  Questionnaire

  Name, age, and place of residence?

  Gudrun, 45, Lübeck.

  When and where did you meet Christine?

  I unfortunately can’t remember precisely when it was. We were at school together, then took the same dance lessons, and then I remember meeting her at a party at Torsten’s parents’ house. He was my boyfriend back then, and Christine was his sister’s best friend. Christine came riding with me now and then, but after she fell off the horse four times she’d had enough. So had the horse.

  What was your best experience together?

  The fit of giggles she had at the graduation ball when her dance partner Wolfgang slid across the floor as they walked in. Even today I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if I saw him!

  What made your friendship stand out? And what sets Christine apart as a friend?

  We had a wonderful time together. We weren’t taking life seriously yet. And Christine was so dependable and very loyal. But, unfortunately, not that great at horse riding.

  What’s your motto in life?

  Somehow, things always work out.

  A friend is…?

  A critic, admirer and a soul mate—if it works well.

  What was your first reaction to this invitation?

  I thought, why not? Let’s see what a trip down memory lane will hold for me.

  The final whistle was drowned out by deafening cheers. The handball fans in the Color Line Arena jumped up from their seats, whistling, singing, and applauding.

  “Man, that was close. At the very last minute!”

  Sven’s voice sounded hoarse. Christine looked at him, her hands sore from clapping. He was whistling with two fingers, jumping from one leg to the other.

  “Unbelievable.”

  Suddenly he leaned over to Christine and kissed her on the mouth. Taken aback, she looked at him. He held her gaze, then kissed her again.

  “That was to celebrate the win. Well, not just that, but that, too. Come on, let’s go, I need a beer.”

  Sven reached for his jacket, waited until Christine had pulled hers on, and then fought a path through to the exit for them.

  Christine concentrated on looking at his back. She was feeling a little confused. The smell and the atmosphere of the stadium were making her think of old times. She could remember the weight of her sports bag, the feeling of her legs aching, and the elation of winning, the f
aces of Lena and the other players. She tried to chase the thoughts away; that was all a long time ago now. Instead, she fixed her gaze on Sven’s light leather jacket and his tousled blond hair.

  Today was the fourth time they had met up. Two weeks ago he had come by the publishing house. Gabi had been on vacation, and Christine was alone in her office. Sven came in, sat down on Gabi’s desk, and explained that he’d put Christine’s phone number through the wash, after which it was indecipherable. That was so typical of American chewing gum wrappers, he had said; they were useless.

  He had gone on to explain his unsuccessful attempt to get her number from the blond ice queen in Christine’s office; by the look she gave him she had clearly thought he was some kind of pervert. And Mathias, who was normally very eager to help, wasn’t answering his phone. So, as a result he had decided to risk making a fool of himself and invite her out to dinner in person.

  They met that very evening. Sven was very good company. They talked about Christine’s columns, about his job, about him and Mathias. It was a relaxed evening. Sven was funny, Christine, giggly; they told each other stories about their respective childhoods. All exaggerated, of course, to add to the comedy value.

  Later, as she sat in the taxi, Christine thought regretfully about the fact that Sven hadn’t been flirting with her. Perhaps he just wanted someone to go out now and again and wasn’t—despite Mathias’s comments—looking for a new girlfriend after all. She told herself that was a good thing, especially when she heard Richard’s voice on her answering machine later. He sounded full of longing to see her. Christine had enough on her plate already when it came to her love life; she didn’t need any more complications.