Suitcase of Dreams

by Tania Blanchard

  ‘Yes, it was taken just after my wife and I separated, so the children weren’t particularly happy at that time. They’ve struggled with the divorce and it’s been a challenge to help them cope, to find a way to make it easier on them . . . My daughter’s been the hardest, being the youngest.’

  Mutti returned. ‘Natalia’s been caught up. She rang the café to let me know. Her grand-daughter’s sick and she had to pick her up from school and look after her while her daughter’s at work. She won’t be coming.’

  I nodded. I wasn’t surprised. Mutti was back to her meddling best.

  ‘Well, I’m going to enjoy these gardens and see what the fuss is all about with this new Opera House,’ I said.

  ‘Would you like to join us, Heinrich?’ asked Mutti.

  ‘I’m sure he’s busy. He’s got a meeting to get to this afternoon.’ I had to stop this before it began but I felt my control of the situation slipping away.

  ‘No, it’s all right. How often do I run into old friends on the other side of the world? I can manage without extra preparation. As long as I turn up to the meeting, I’ll be fine.’ He stood and offered Mutti his arm. ‘Let’s go and have a look around. I’ve been dying to see the harbour.’

  I had to go along with it since I had suggested it, but I was fuming.

  Heinrich spent a couple of hours with us, walking around the gardens, admiring the magnificent harbour and walking past the imposing white sails of the Opera House. The magnificent building was worth the wait and all the controversy, I decided.

  ‘It’s more beautiful than I imagined,’ Heinrich said. Mutti was walking a little behind us. ‘No wonder you want to live here.’

  I inhaled the smell of salt water, feeling surprisingly relaxed. The midday sun was warm on my skin and seagulls cried as they soared overhead then came in to land, jostling for morsels of the leftover chips a generous person had thrown to them. It really was a wonderful place to live. I had to admit that I’d enjoyed showing Heinrich what I thought was the most stunning part of the city. Anyone who viewed the harbour couldn’t help but be impressed, and I was feeling smug. The choice Erich and I had made to come here to live all those years ago that many thought dubious probably looked like a very good decision to someone like Heinrich now.

  He smiled at me. ‘The lifestyle suits you. You haven’t really changed in the twenty years since I last saw you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course I have.’ For a start, I wasn’t a girl who could be affected by honeyed words any more.

  He laughed. ‘We both have. But what I mean is that I still see you, the girl I used to know and the woman who left me, who was strong, vibrant and independent.’

  A ferry out on the harbour announced its arrival at the pier at Circular Quay by sounding its horn.

  ‘I have to go now,’ I said, blushing and slowing to a stop. I hadn’t blushed in years and now twice in one day. ‘Unlike you, I’ve got a lot of work to get through this afternoon.’ As much as I’d unexpectedly enjoyed showing Heinrich around the harbour, I now felt uncomfortable near him – and with his flattery.

  ‘Didn’t you want to look around the Opera House?’

  I waved my hand impatiently. ‘Another time.’ I turned to my mother. ‘We have to go, Mutti.’

  Heinrich grasped my hand and I started as a shot of electricity passed between us. Memories of his touch many years earlier confused me for a moment.

  ‘Please promise me that I can see you one more time before I leave for Canberra. Perhaps we can see the inside of the Opera House together, maybe a concert?’

  I stared at him and then gazed at the striking stairway that led to the top level and grand façade of the building.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said finally. ‘I’ll call you at your hotel tomorrow.’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ he said, kissing my cheek. ‘Until next time.’

  ‘Goodbye, Heinrich,’ I said coolly. Then I turned and walked away, dazed by the conflicting emotions warring inside me.

  It was World War Three when Mutti and I got home.

  ‘How could you?’ I shouted as I slammed the door. ‘You went behind my back and arranged that meeting with Heinrich. There was nothing coincidental about it!’

  Mutti shrugged as she put her handbag on the kitchen table, calm and cool. ‘He was coming to Sydney anyway and you were never going to agree to meet him on your own. I just gave you a helping hand. Heinrich always wanted to see you, even just for the sake of an old friendship.’

  ‘Yours or mine?’ I yelled, becoming more furious because she remained so unruffled.

  ‘Both, schätzchen. Where’s the harm in reconnecting with old friends?’ She spread her hands, palms up. ‘Besides, you’re both adults. You can choose how far your relationship develops.’

  ‘That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t help yourself! You just have to push us together again. Don’t you remember the havoc you caused last time? The suffering you caused me, Erich, Heinrich and his family?’

  ‘Erich’s gone,’ she said softly, touching my arm. ‘I’m sorry for that, truly I am. I know how much you loved him – like I loved Vati. But now you’re on your own. I’m not saying you have to fall into Heinrich’s arms, but I am saying there’s no reason for the two of you not to be friends now.’

  ‘Stay out of it, Mutti!’ I stormed out the door and strode to the shed, ready to bury myself in my work.

  But I couldn’t concentrate. Images of Heinrich as a young man kept coming to me, like the water rushing from opened floodgates. Despite all our differences and the pain we’d put each other through, there was still so much to like about him. The little I’d seen of Heinrich in the gardens had shown me that time had tempered him, matured him, softening the hard edges. What had comforted me, however, was his familiarity. We had a long history as children and young adults and although I’d been through so much and changed, like he had, we remembered who we had once been.

  After much soul searching, it was the thought of comforting my bleeding heart and wounded soul that made me decide to join Heinrich for dinner. As twisted as it seemed, Heinrich provided a connection to Erich, to those heady days when we’d first met and married. It would do me good to talk about the old days.

  I didn’t think that letting down my guard, even a little, would be dangerous. We’d be old friends having dinner with polite, friendly conversation, like colleagues meeting socially for a meal. I saw no harm in that. All the same, I was nervous on the night, taking care with my outfit, finding something suitably flattering without being overtly enticing. It had been over a year since I’d really cared about how I looked. I turned my body and looked in the mirror, adjusting straps and smoothing fabric until I was satisfied. An extra mist of hairspray kept my shoulder-length hair in place before I finished my makeup, applying a final touch of lipstick and subtly dabbing Chanel No. 5, Erich’s favourite perfume, at my throat and wrists.

  Heinrich was staying at the Sydney Boulevarde. He surprised me – he was a total gentleman and that formality put me at ease. It wasn’t until we were laughing about our antics as children, drinking expensive wine and savouring each morsel of the tiny but flavoursome offerings from huge plates that I began to relax. I realised I was enjoying myself. Perhaps that was the mistake. He really was good company. We were having such a lovely time reminiscing that we left the restaurant after our meal and went to a club for cocktails.

  Somehow we ended up dancing. The physical contact felt like a shock at first, my nerves buzzing, but my body remembered and before I knew it, we were cheek to cheek, our bodies fitted together and moving as one. We had spent endless balls dancing together in our youth, but this was different. I saw the yearning in his eyes but it was controlled. He would never touch me unless I allowed it, no matter how much he wanted me.

  The kiss on the dancefloor made everything fall away. Heinrich’s lips were soft, his hands strong, and for the first time since Erich’s death, I felt safe to let go. The memory of our last en
counter came back to me, the intensity and desperation. Perhaps it was because nobody but Erich had looked at me like that in twenty years. Perhaps it was because it had been over a year since I had been touched by a man and my body responded to that physical need. There was no desperation now, only free choice. Whatever we did, we did as mature adults, with no impact on anyone else but ourselves. That was liberating.

  Somehow we ended up back in his hotel room. The taxi ride only heightened my longing, Heinrich’s hand in mine, bodies barely touching, driving me crazy. Once the suite door closed behind us, we lost control. Shoes and clothes were strewn across the room in a bid to feel skin against skin. He was fit, strong, powerful – more than I remembered – and I allowed the waves of desire to overtake me. We had never made love before. I’d been waiting until our wedding night, which never came.

  There was no slaking our thirst, our need for each other, until the night changed to soft grey and the early morning rays peeked around the edges of the block-out curtains. Then we slept in a tangle of arms, legs and sheets. He was a good lover – considerate, I decided when I woke and discovered him still sleeping by my side. The activities of the night before were more than enough to satisfy my needs but I was surprised and a little dismayed to find that it was his thoughtfulness and vulnerability that touched my heart – something I’d never expected.

  ‘Good morning.’ His voice was husky from sleep. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.’

  ‘Do you want me to go?’ I asked.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he said, wrapping his arms around me.

  I felt safe and secure, protected, and it was such a relief to have the burden I’d been carrying lifted from my shoulders for a little while.

  ‘Well, then,’ I said smiling. He kissed me and I became soft like marshmallow.

  ‘You’re a tigress,’ he whispered. ‘I always imagined . . . but now I understand that no man could ever control you.’

  ‘Is that so?’ I said, my nerve endings beginning to hum again. I couldn’t tell him that last night had outstripped what I had fantasised about decades earlier. ‘You’d better tell me more.’ I nibbled his earlobe, not gently, and felt his intake of breath.

  ‘A breathtakingly beautiful, wild woman . . .’

  I didn’t need to hear any more. I rolled and sat astride him in a single fluid motion. His hands rested on my hips and slid up my torso, caressing my breasts.

  ‘Sweet Jesus in heaven,’ he groaned.

  Heinrich had to leave for Canberra and I had to get home to work. I hadn’t planned on seeing him again, even on contacting him while he remained in Australia. Now, we both knew we’d started something we couldn’t stop, but I wouldn’t promise him anything.

  ‘Call me when you get back to Sydney,’ I said as I kissed him goodbye. His blue eyes were dark with desire but he let me leave.

  The next three weeks were awful. I couldn’t stop thinking about Heinrich, about our night together. It was like I was a teenager again, like the first time I’d fallen for him. My paintings took a new turn, becoming soft and sensual. I focused on the image of a naked woman sitting on a stool with her back to the viewer, head turned, as if she knew someone was watching. To me, it represented a woman who understood her own power, who was comfortable in her own skin, who had the confidence to be who she was and not hide from the world or pretend she was something other than herself.

  Mutti knew Heinrich and I had met without being told. She saw me smiling and humming to myself, distracted and distant.

  ‘He’s good for you,’ she said, one evening as she dried the dishes. ‘I always knew you were right for each other.’

  I opened my mouth to tell her to mind her own business but she continued.

  ‘But I was wrong. Sometimes there isn’t just one person who can be the one, sometimes there are two. I was blessed to find that out with Rudi and I think that maybe you might be too. Give Heinrich a chance to prove himself to you. Don’t be quick to dismiss him.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mutti. We’re just friends. Besides, he lives on the other side of the world.’ I sloshed soapy water over the edge of the sink in my exasperation.

  ‘And what’s holding you here?’ She flapped the tea-towel in my direction, equally frustrated. ‘Johanna could come with you, she’s not married, and if she decided to stay, you could come and visit. You’d be closer to Greta, you’d be back with family and relatives, back in your homeland, where you belong . . . and so would I.’ Mutti sagged suddenly. ‘I’m not getting any younger and the thought of dying in Germany soothes my soul.’

  ‘Stop it, Mutti,’ I said, banging a pot on the sink. ‘Don’t talk to me about Germany! There’s no future with Heinrich. Leave it alone.’

  She’d struck a nerve. Erich had said he wanted to die in Germany too. Although that had been after his accident and I knew how happy and settled he was before he died, I wondered if a part of him had still carried that longing. Looking for a house in Germany had probably meant more to him than just being able to visit whenever he wanted. He never had the chance to set foot on German soil again. I couldn’t take the guilt of bearing the responsibility for Mutti’s wishes as well.

  ‘All right then,’ said Mutti, but I could see by the determination on her face that she wasn’t finished with me.

  ‘I hear you and Grossmama met your old fiancé when he came to Sydney recently,’ Greta said casually over the phone, when she was done talking about work and how she and Jonathan had moved into a bigger, more comfortable apartment.

  ‘Yes, but he’s an old friend, nothing more,’ I said forcefully. ‘Your grandmother’s keen for me to find someone.’

  ‘She’s just worried about you being on your own and she knows how well you two used to get on.’

  ‘It’s not her business to meddle in. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I tried to organise your love life.’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Then let it be – please. I’m fine. I don’t need any help.’

  ‘All right, Mutti, if you’re sure. Now, we have to talk about your plans to come over Christmas. You can stay with us, of course.’

  The change of topic was a breath of fresh air. ‘That sounds wonderful, darling. Let me work out what’s happening here and what dates we’re looking at before I check flights. I’ll see if Grossmama wants to come too, otherwise she’ll stay with Johanna while I’m gone.’

  After the phone call, I sat at the telephone table for some time, thinking, gently chewing on my bottom lip and twisting my eternity ring around my finger. Maybe it was time for me to extend my visit and make that trip back to Germany. I didn’t know when I’d be able to visit Greta next. Perhaps she’d be already home before I had the chance to get back to Europe and this was my best chance of honouring what Erich had always wanted to do, maybe of even looking at buying that house he’d wanted. I still wanted to take my daughters back one day, and their children too . . .

  Heinrich called when he arrived in Sydney. The sound of his voice made me weak at the knees. We spent an hour on the phone, laughing, leaving me breathless before he had to go to a dinner meeting.

  ‘I have to see you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I can’t do tonight. I’d get out of this if I could. What about tomorrow night? Are you free?’

  I wanted to say no. It was best to leave what we’d had as a foolish and indulgent mistake and not complicate things further, but the echoes of that night stayed with me. A little harmless fun was fine, surely? It didn’t have to mean anything more than that. He was going home in a couple of weeks.

  ‘Yes, I’m free. I’ll come to you, shall I?’

  ‘Perfect. I’ll see you then.’

  I hung up, grinning like an idiot.

  We spent every spare minute of the next two weeks together. I tried to sneak out of the house without Mutti seeing me or calling out as I was going, telling her when I’d return. I shook my head ruefully when I thought about it – not even Greta and Johanna had behaved like this
as teenagers. But they didn’t have a mother like Mutti, relentless in her determination to ensure Heinrich and I stayed together. The less she knew, the better.

  I played tourist with Heinrich: a sunset cruise around the harbour drinking champagne and eating lobster tail; fish and chips and ice cream at Manly; a picnic in the Botanic Gardens; and dinner and dancing until the small hours of the morning.

  I wondered if I’d become addicted to the distraction of him. When I was with Heinrich, I didn’t have to think, only exist in the moment. With him, the pain of Erich’s loss was muted for a little while and I felt like I could breathe again – like I was alive again. What made these weeks special was that apart from being giddy with love or physical desire – I wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began – Heinrich made me feel safe and secure enough to allow myself to explore my desires and dreams once more.

  On the last night, Heinrich surprised me with tickets to a performance in the concert hall at the Sydney Opera House. I’d told him that I’d always wanted to go, ever since those early days of the building’s construction when Erich and I were struggling so much and I’d dreamed of the day when we could afford to watch a performance there. We could now, but Erich was gone. I thought of him as Heinrich and I made our way into the auditorium and wished he was by my side. Although Erich hadn’t liked Heinrich, I felt sure that he’d be happy that I was doing something I enjoyed with someone who would treat me well.

  Claudia had told me that Peter was back in Australia after studying overseas and was touring with one of the orchestras he’d played with, but I never imagined I would be at the Opera House to see him. I only wished Johanna was there, not just for Peter, but to see how he’d succeeded after all they’d both been through. She would have been proud of him.

  ‘Do you know that the first performance here in September was a selection of Wagner pieces?’ I told Heinrich. We were in our seats, listening to the chaotic tuning and warming up of instruments before the performance started that always made my skin tingle with anticipation.