by Dora Heldt
“Yes, unfortunately I did. And now I’m financing huge cosmetic companies for my sins. Christine, I meant you, too, you know.”
With her eyes closed, Christine let the sun shine down onto her face. “Oh, Aunt Inge, if we get more than three days of nice weather, I’ll just borrow your expensive face cream.”
Johann, who had sat down next to her on the only bench, pressed his thigh against hers. After Heinz cleared his throat, Johann moved it away again.
“Did you want to sit down here?”
“It’s actually my seat,” Heinz said, sounding a little hurt. “But never mind. I have to fetch my cap anyway. Inge’s right about the sun. I’ll bring some drinks out. Johann, come on, you can help me carry.”
Christine kept her eyes closed. She reminded herself that Johann was a grown man and her father seventy-three. There was no need to get involved. As soon as they set off, she put on her sunglasses and leaned over to Inge.
“Come on, Aunt Inge, tell us. What’s going on with Uncle Walter?”
“Well—”
She was interrupted by her sister-in-law. “Don’t you want to wait until Heinz is back? Otherwise, you’ll have to tell it all again.”
“Oh, it’s only Heinz. I can already guess how he’ll react. After all, men are all the same. He can get the abridged version. So, I was at the spa in Bad Oeynhausen. And I met a very clever woman there, Renate. She opened my eyes. The thing is, you see, I’m in the prime of my life, and you can’t say that about Walter. He’s always got some new ailment. One day he’s about to have a heart attack, then he says his kidneys aren’t working anymore, and right now diabetes and thrombosis are his favorites. He’s unbearable…unless he’s doing one of his friends’ taxes. Then he’s as fit as a fiddle. But when it comes to how I am, he doesn’t care one bit about that. Other women get taken out to dinner, they get flowers and little gifts, and I get stuck sitting next to Walter on the sofa, listening to his latest woes, making sandwiches, and watching Bundesliga and the daily news. It’s boring and I’ve had enough. I don’t want to waste the best years of my life on this. That’s why I’ve decided to change my life.”
“You’re crazy.” Charlotte ignored the proud tone with which Aunt Inge had delivered that last sentence. “Totally crazy. Was this all that Renate woman’s idea?”
“What do you mean ‘that Renate woman’? She’s a good friend to me, very worldly-wise and clever. She couldn’t believe that I was settling for so little. She said I deserved better.”
Charlotte snorted, but Christine got in first. “And what do you intend to change? I mean, are you going to take a lover? Or move into some girls’ pad with Renate? Or sail around the world? What’s the plan?”
Aunt Inge folded her hands and leaned back contentedly. “Perhaps a bit of everything. You’ll find out in good time. Look, the boys are coming back.”
Heinz glanced at Johann, who was walking behind him with the bottles of beer, and quickened his pace. After he had nabbed the seat next to Christine on the bench, he pointed at the chair beside his wife.
“Look, Johann, that’s the best seat in the whole yard. So then, Inge, what’s new?”
“Your sister has gone crazy.” Charlotte reached for a bottle of beer. “She wants to change things.” She said the word as if she was describing a particularly repugnant kind of cockroach.
“Change how? Inge is sixty-four.” Heinz looked in confusion at his wife, who was drinking straight from the bottle, and then at his sister, who looked back at him cheerfully. “Aren’t you a bit old for that kind of thing? And what does Walter have to say about it?”
“Charlotte, can’t you use a glass?” Inge looked at her sister-in-law with a frown. “You’re not a construction worker. Walter? He hasn’t even realized. But he will. Anyway, I’m staying with Petra for a while.”
“But you’re not planning to leave him, are you?” asked Heinz uneasily.
For Johann’s sake, Christine decided to calm the conversation down a bit. “Dad, leave her be. She’s only having a bit of a vacation—it just happens to be a solo one.”
“But she and Walter are married. Inge, you’ll be having your golden anniversary in seven years. We wanted to throw you a party and everything.”
“Heinz, I want to change my life. I’ve had enough. I’m too young to stagnate in our boring old house. And I don’t have all that long left.”
Johann shifted in his chair. Feeling a little guilty about dragging him into the family drama, Christine spoke up.
“Aunt Inge, I’m sure you’ll still be here later on. We’re just going for a stroll.” Still seated, Christine waited awkwardly for a response.
No one paid any attention to her. Instead, her mother leaned over and said, “‘Too young to stagnate’…Tell me, what kind of treatments did they give you at this spa? And what does Pia have to say about all this nonsense?”
“What does my daughter have to do with it? I’m sure she’s got her own life in Berlin, and I don’t interfere with that.” Inge gave her sister-in-law a penetrating look. “And you’re just worried that change might be contagious.”
“Excuse me?”
Now Charlotte was annoyed, and her eyes turned frosty.
Heinz looked helplessly from one of them to the other, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then looked at Christine, who had stood up and motioned for Johann to do the same. She put a hand on her mother’s shoulder.
“No arguments, please. Things are never as drastic as they seem. Anyway, we’re going for a walk. Come on, Johann. See you later, everyone.”
They were barely around the corner before Johann whispered, “It sounds like things are about to get heated back there. Are you sure we should leave them alone?”
“They’ll be fine.” Christine quickened her pace. “Besides, children—especially sixty-four-year-old ones—are meant to be seen and not heard.”
Chapter 4
* * *
Johann and Christine walked down toward the summer dike, a curved bank of mottled stones that protected the grassy land behind it during the summer months. Christine was glad Johann was silent, because she was lost in reverie. Years ago, Aunt Inge used to take Pia and Christine ice-skating on the lakes that formed here when the stronger winter tide rolled past the summer dike. Inge had been able to do jumps and fabulous pirouettes, and the other girls had always envied them for having such a cool aunt and mom. And Inge had never worn the sensible winter clothes favored by the other women her age, instead sporting a midcalf-length red skirt that twirled as she had skated around. She had always been very elegant.
For Christine’s confirmation, Aunt Inge had given her a locket and a yellow miniskirt. Heinz hadn’t been too happy about the skirt, but Inge was his sister, and she got her own way. In the locket was a photo of Sean Connery, whom Inge had a major crush on back then when he had played James Bond. Christine tried to remember whether she had ever swapped that picture for another one; she resolved to take a look in her jewelry box as soon as she got the chance. Uncle Walter looked so unlike the hairy-chested James Bond, and yet Inge had been married to him for forty-five years. And Christine was sure she would stay married to him. Wouldn’t she? She wondered how long women had to contend with these hormonal fluctuations. Maybe it was a good thing that wild biological processes were still flaring up inside her aunt, perhaps unleashed by her spa break and all those trips to the sauna.
Renate was probably one of those bitter ex-wives left by their rich husbands for young blonde secretaries who then went on to lead a crusade against all husbands. Christine could easily imagine how Inge had fallen prey to the bitter old trout after all the massages and mud-wraps. As if Inge really wanted to change her life. What nonsense! After all, she had everything and always seemed very content. Christine was sure that it would only be a matter of days before Uncle Walter showed up on their doorstep. Preferably, if he could only act out of character for a minute, bearing flowers, expensive dinner reservations, or concert tickets.
Christine paused as they reached the summer dike, and Johann looked at her questioningly.
“Let’s go left, toward Ellenbogen.” She entwined her fingers with his and kissed his cheek softly. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”
Her beloved didn’t return the kiss. Instead, he gazed out over the dike and took a deep breath. Christine felt uneasy. If all this drama with her aunt continued, he would never believe her stories about her charming, perfectly normal family.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
It was one of the worst questions that a woman could ever ask a man.
“Nothing in particular.”
And that was the usual response. Well, she had asked for it.
They walked on in silence, and Christine sank back into her thoughts. She was a little surprised by her mother’s reaction. For one thing, she never normally drank beer from the bottle. And she was actually very fond of her sister-in-law. Perhaps it just bothered Charlotte when Heinz went overboard playing the big brother. Inge was almost ten years younger, she had been a sweet little girl, and her brother adored her. Even as a child, she had been courageous, loud, crazy, and silly, while Heinz was serious, nervous, and shy. He had always been astounded by her, and worried for her too. She was so different it was as though they were unrelated. And so, back then, he had decided to protect her. And he continued to try to do so, even today. Charlotte had always found it annoying when her husband had tried to make Inge’s problems his own and solve them. Luckily, Walter had come along to keep her aunt tethered to the ground. Heinz liked Uncle Walter, and the feeling was mutual; otherwise, his well-meant suggestions about how Walter should treat his sister would have led to a family rift long ago. Christine suspected that Heinz would give his brother-in-law a call today and give him the tip about the flowers and concert tickets himself. Everything was sure to turn out fine.
Johann took her arm and pointed toward a herd of sheep, teeming with lambs. Christine stopped.
“Sweet, aren’t they? The trampling of their hooves helps to keep the surface of the dike firm and protect it against storm surges. When Aunt Inge was ten years old, she once stole one of the lambs and hid it in the backyard. She didn’t want it to get eaten. She got found out of course, and she had to paint the barn as a punishment. And she did, but in really bright colors. Which got her into even more trouble, as you can imagine. Since I heard that story, I’ve never eaten another bite of lamb.”
“Your aunt is a pretty surprising woman. And she still looks great.”
“Do you think?” Christine looked at him, surprised. “Yes, she looks good. But what’s so surprising about her?”
“The fact that she’s decided to make a new start at her age. Not many people would dare to do that.”
Christine dismissed his comment a little too abruptly. “Let’s just wait and see. I don’t think that will really happen. That strange Renate woman has just temporarily brainwashed her. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Johann put his arm around her shoulder and slowly started to walk again. “Well, I think she was serious about it. She looked very resolute. And she didn’t seem brainwashed either. Besides, you don’t even know Renate, so how can you say that she’s strange?”
“Oh, you know those frustrated, bitter women who don’t want anyone else to have a happy love life. I can just picture her. Spending her ex-husband’s money on all kinds of beauty treatments and…”
“My God, Christine, you’re just as prejudiced as Heinz. Maybe Renate is charming, educated, well-read, listens to good music, dedicates herself to looking after her god-children, and—”
“No chance! If that were the case, then she wouldn’t stick her nose into other people’s marriages. And besides, I’m convinced that no one would ever give up their familiar life at Inge’s age without a truly valid reason. Uncle Walter’s hypochondria, his addiction to the Bundesliga, and his fondness for buffet sandwiches are not good enough reasons. And besides, my uncle is just a very nice, decent man.”
Johann grinned. “Okay, okay, don’t get so worked up. But maybe she does have a reason. Have you never heard of late-life love? The great romance that takes you by surprise when you least expect it? The love affair that turns your world upside down in old age? That last chance to be really happy?”
Unsettled, Christine stopped in her tracks. “Tell me, you big romantic, are you reading Cosmo now? Where did you hear that nonsense? They’re all clichés. Aunt Inge having an affair! It’s not a laughing matter!”
The big romantic pulled her on, and she followed him, shaking her head. “Late-life love!” That kind of thing only happened in bad novels or TV films. Not to her utterly familiar and dependable Aunt Inge and Uncle Walter.
Chapter 5
* * *
The parking along Christiansen Strasse was full. Christine had to drive around for what felt like five hours before she spotted a woman in a beat-up Porsche Cayenne edging nervously inch by inch out of her parking space.
“Buy a bicycle if you can’t drive a car properly,” Christine muttered to herself.
As if she had heard, the driver suddenly looked at Christine over her shoulder. She slowly drove forward, yanked the steering wheel around, and slowly reversed. Then she braked again.
“Good God, shall I do it for you?” Christine muttered to herself. “I could get a bus into this spot.”
The car door opened, and the Cayenne owner got out. She was around sixty, very slim, with lots of gold jewelry, white well-tailored clothes, red lipstick, dyed hair, and a wrinkly neck. Christine imagined that was what Renate looked like. The woman hurried over to Christine’s open window.
“Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward. “I guess it must be true after all that women can’t park. Would you be able to wave me out? I can’t see well enough. I don’t want to put another dent in the car.”
“I can park,” Christine spoke softly.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, of course I’ll wave you out. No problem.”
And buy yourself a smaller car, Christine added silently. She backed up a little and positioned herself behind the Cayenne. The Renate-type woman started to back out. Christine waved. “Renate” braked. Christine waved more vigorously. The driver moved five inches and then braked again. This little game carried on for a few minutes, but the Cayenne still had over a yard free at the back.
Finally, Christine lost all patience. Striving to maintain a sugary-sweet expression, she got out and went around to the car door. “Either you look at me when I wave and you drive properly, or you let me drive your car out so I can get your parking place. Or you attempt to do it by yourself for the duration of your vacation. It’s your choice. I was supposed to meet someone ten minutes ago, and unfortunately I don’t have any more time to waste.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and the corners of her mouth went down.
“Good grief! I only asked you for a small favor, my dear! If it’s too much to ask that women help each other out from time to time…then find yourself another parking space. Off you go, what are you waiting for?”
The vein in Christine’s neck began to pulse, and she was close to giving the Cayenne a good kick. Stupid old bag. But she pulled herself together. As if she was going to waste her time fighting over a public parking place. No chance!
“Then have fun and have a nice day.”
With her head held high, Christine went back over to her car. It seemed that the Parking-Powers-That-Be decided to reward her for her self-control, because at that moment two spaces became free. She drove right into one without any problems.
Renate the Second was still in her battleship with the motor running. Christine almost felt guilty, but then she saw that the woman was calmly reapplying her lip liner. Christine couldn’t stand women like her.
Running fifteen minutes late now, Christine hurried across the beach, heading for Badezeit, a bar on the Westerland Promenade.
/> She was meeting Luise, a friend who was in Sylt for two days. They had spoken on the phone that morning, and Luise had suggested they meet early in the evening, as her husband, Alex, was on the island on business and would join them later. She couldn’t wait for Luise to meet Johann. During their phone conversation, Christine had put the telephone on speaker because she was painting her nails, and so Johann could listen in. Afterward he had told her that he’d join them later too. “I know what it’s like when you girls need to catch up…so I’ll come at around seven thirty. Luise’s husband will be there by then, too, right?”
“You can come earlier if you like.”
He kissed her and nodded. “We’ll see.”
Luise wasn’t there yet, even though Christine was late. After having a quick look inside the bar, she sat down on the terrace, where she had a view of both the beach and the approaching clientele.
An unbelievably beautiful waitress came to the table—probably an actress or model wannabe. Her long hair was tied up, and she was all smiles with a row of perfect pearly white teeth. Her name badge read “Anika.”
Before Christine had time to order, her cell phone rang. It was Luise.
“Hi, I’m running late, but I’m hurrying. See you soon.”
“Would you like to wait to order?” asked Anika.
“Er, no, I’ll have a latte and a glass of water.”
Lost in thought, Christine watched her walk away. Why were some people so naturally beautiful, with such amazing figures?
Three minutes later, Anika came back with her order and a newspaper.
“Today’s Sylter Rundschau. Just while you wait.”
And she was kind too. As Christine drank her coffee, she skimmed her eye over the headlines, lifting her gaze every now and then so she didn’t miss Luise. Suddenly, she noticed Aunt Inge on the promenade, wearing a striking red pantsuit and heading toward the bar. Christine was already half on her feet to call out to her when Inge suddenly stopped and turned around. She was obviously waiting for someone. Christine guessed she was probably with Heinz, who could never keep up with his fast-paced sister. Hopefully they weren’t stopping for dinner; she wanted Johann to be able to get to know Luise in peace.