by Dora Heldt
“Oh God. Yes, why? Is she there too?”
“Yes. So you know her?”
Walter coughed. “Sorry…No, just from speaking to her on the phone, and she’s always really rude to me.”
Heinz had picked up the other phone in the bedroom, and now he piped up too. “Walter, she’s nice. She came to visit Inge in the hospital. And she’s very interested in Sylt.”
Charlotte jumped. “Heinz! Get off the extension, and don’t shout like that.” She heard a loud “Harrumph!” as the other receiver clicked into place. “So, Walter, what’s the plan? Are you going to get the train out here?”
“I’ll need to check the times. I’m guessing I probably won’t be able to get a saver price booking last minute, will I?”
“Walter!” Charlotte was starting to lose her patience. “This is about your wife, and you’re talking about saver prices. Pack your things now and get yourself to the station. Call when you know what time you’ll be getting in, and we’ll pick you up in Westerland.”
“Yes. Okay. Pass me back to Heinz.”
Charlotte gave the phone to Heinz, who suddenly was at her side, and she watched her husband as he listened with concentration. “Oh no…It doesn’t last long. And it doesn’t happen often…I’ll ask. But I’m sure that’ll be fine. Okay, good-bye then, and have a good journey.” He pressed the red button and put the receiver down. Then he walked off without a word.
“Heinz?”
He turned around at the door. “Yes?”
“What did Walter want just then?”
“He wanted to know if we have cable TV, because of the Dortmund versus Bayern game tomorrow.”
“What? Walter’s coming here for Inge, and he wants to watch soccer?”
“They’re playing Bayern. It’s a very important game.”
Charlotte shook her head, speechless. “For heaven’s sake! And what doesn’t last long?”
“Your mood swings. Okay then, I’m off to mow the lawn.”
Charlotte suddenly found herself wondering whether she had made the right decision in calling Walter.
Inge stared straight ahead, incessantly snapping the clasp on her handbag open and shut. Christine cleared her throat. No reaction. After another five minutes she said, “Aunt Inge! You’re putting me on edge.”
“How?”
“With your bag.”
“Oh.” Inge closed the bag and interlaced her fingers through the straps. “You seem a little irritable, dear. Are things not going well with Johann?”
“What?”
“I mean, he’s such a catch. I don’t see what the problem is.” Christine switched to fifth gear a little too roughly. Inge looked at her reproachfully. “What is it? Are you in a bad mood?”
“No.” Christine took her foot off the gas; she was doing a hundred even though the limit here was seventy. “I’m not. And I don’t have a problem with him. I have one with my family. He must think we’re all mentally ill. The very reason I came here on vacation with him was to prove the opposite.”
“So you think I got myself attacked on purpose just so your new boyfriend would think I’m crazy? What’s wrong with you?”
Inge started clicking her handbag again. She was angry. Christine immediately felt guilty.
“No, of course not. I think it’s awful, what happened to you. And it’s not your fault that Dad is getting himself into a tizzy about things again. And then there are…” She stopped herself from mentioning Renate; after all, she was Inge’s friend. “…all of these dramatic scenes. In the hospital and so on. Oh, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t like it when people argue.”
Inge looked at her niece thoughtfully. “You get that from your father. Even as a child he always shied away from confrontation. He never was good at talking things out in a sensible fashion. And that’s why there are these misunderstandings. He always wants everything to be in order, and his imagination runs wild when it’s not. It drives me mad.”
“Oh, well.” Christine didn’t feel like talking about her father. “But it was Mom and I you just shouted at, not your brother.”
“Shouted.” Inge shook her head, baffled. “I can really shout at you sometime if you want, so you know what it feels like. All I did was clearly state my point of view. It’s very simple, my dear. Leave me in peace to sort some things out, and we won’t come to blows. After all, I don’t want that either.”
“So when will you tell us what’s going on?”
Inge said mysteriously, “When I’m good and ready. Right, we’re here.” Christine had parked next to Petra’s car. “Are you coming in? Don’t tell anyone, but I feel a bit nervous about being in the apartment again.”
Christine was overcome by a wave of affection and remorse. Her aunt had just had an awful experience, and here they were arguing about silly little things. What a delightful family. Christine leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Sorry,” she said. “We haven’t been behaving very well. Of course I’ll come in with you.”
Looking pert and sporty as always, Petra stood at the door waiting for them. “I saw you coming. How are you feeling, Inge? Is your head still hurting?” Petra was very concerned, and she immediately linked arms with Inge as they went in. “I’m sure you need to take things easy for a while, right? I’ve put your things in the other apartment, the one on the left, next to mine. The balcony’s nicer there too. That’s okay with you, right? The window isn’t repaired in the other one yet, and you don’t need to move back once it is, if you don’t want to.”
Inge looked at Christine, relieved. “Oh, I’m sure it would have been fine. Nothing all that bad happened.”
“Yes, it did!” protested Petra. “I feel sick just thinking about it. It’s very scary. The police still want to talk to you, by the way. They want to know if you noticed anything. I said you’d be back today, so they’re coming round this evening. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine.” Inge nodded. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to tell them much though. I was sleeping, and then I heard a noise. After that I walked into the door and don’t remember anything else.”
Christine stroked her back reassuringly. “Don’t think about it now. Shall we go and get some dinner together after the police come round?”
“No,” answered her aunt decisively. “You go out with Johann, far away from your crazy family. I’ll make myself an easy supper and watch a movie on TV. I’m fine, so don’t give me that worried look. Was there anything else?”
“Yes.” Petra made an effort to turn her worried look into a neutral one. “There was a message on voice mail for you. Do you want to hear it?”
“Of course.”
Petra rewound the tape machine resting on a small table, then they heard a beeping tone and a deep voice saying, “This is a message for Inge Müller. Hi, it’s me. Unfortunately, your cell is going straight to voice mail, so I’m trying to reach you here. I’ll be outside your house tomorrow at eight in the morning as arranged. In case you can’t make it, please leave a message on my cell. You have the number. So have a good evening with your friend, and I’ll see you tomorrow. ’Bye.”
Inge listened to the message with a detached expression. Petra and Christine watched her curiously.
“Who was…?” Christine swallowed the rest of her sentence as she saw Inge raise her eyebrows. “No worries, Aunt Inge, I won’t ask.”
“Thank you.”
Petra’s bemused gaze moved from aunt to niece. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The message was from yesterday evening, and no one came by this morning. At least, I didn’t see anyone, and I was delousing my roses out front from half past seven to nine.”
Inge nodded slowly. Then she grabbed her bag and held her hand out to Petra. “Could you give me the key, please?”
“It’s in the door.”
“Great.” She turned around to her niece. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’ll be in touch. Now have a romantic evening with Johann, and I’ll see
you soon.” Smiling, she turned on the spot and went up the stairs.
Petra looked at Christine. “Do you have any idea who that was?”
“No, but she’s forbidden us from meddling in her affairs. From now on I’m going to keep to that.”
Petra grinned. “Well, you’d better remind your father. I think he sees it rather differently.”
On the way back, Christine drove past the dunes, where she saw Johann jogging along the cycle path toward her. She slowed down and stopped a few feet away from him. Recognizing the car, he sped up.
“Hi.” His breathing came in fits and starts as he rested his hands against the car. “I think I’ve broken my personal best, but I’m on the brink of throwing up.” His face was bright red and his hair dripping with sweat. “And against the wind the whole time too. That makes it harder.”
“Do you want to come with me?”
Johann looked around. “Well, that would make me seem a bit of a wimp, but I guess no one will see.”
He stretched quickly and then walked around to the other side of the car. “In actual fact, I think you’re saving my life,” he said as he climbed in and buckled his seat belt. “The road’s about to go uphill again. I didn’t even mean to come this far. I think I overestimated myself.” He leaned over to kiss her but stopped himself, saying, “God, I smell like a skunk. Take me home and throw me in the shower.”
Christine laughed and started the engine. Johann wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“So?” he asked. “Is everyone friends again, or are there casualties?”
“Neither, nor. I drove Inge to Petra’s, and we had a good chat in the car. She said we need to leave her be to sort some things out, and that she would talk to us later.”
“About what?”
Christine shrugged. “About whatever’s going on with her, I presume. I still don’t know what it is, but I guess it’s no one’s business but hers.”
Johann whistled approvingly. “Wow, you’re learning. Well done.”
“There’s no need to be like that. Besides, I feel bad for her that she had to go through the incident at Petra’s. And instead of comforting her, everyone’s making a big fuss. It’s really unfair.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll speak to my parents later. Not that my father will listen to me, but perhaps he can rein himself in a bit.”
“I doubt that.” Johann pulled his jacket off, getting his arms entangled in the process. “As long as he’s convinced that something’s not right, he’ll be like a dog with a bone. He was like that in Norderney too. He wouldn’t let himself be distracted by anyone or anything.”
Christine could still picture her father, disguised in sunglasses and accompanied by his childhood friend Kalli, following Johann over the whole island. They had made proper fools of themselves. In spite of that, Christine tried to stick up for Heinz.
“He would never have behaved like that without encouragement. Kalli and Gisbert fired him up. They all made each other crazy.”
Johann looked at her doubtfully. “If you say so. Doesn’t your father have friends here then?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes, sure, but they’re all peaceful, serious oldsters.”
“Knock on wood.” Johann tapped the dashboard. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
Christine held back from pointing out that the dashboard wasn’t made of wood. Perhaps it would still count.
Chapter 20
* * *
The telephone rang just as Charlotte was plunging her hands into a soft mass of flour, ground almonds, sugar, and eggs. Walter could be very trying sometimes, but he did love his pflaumkuchen, and she still had a surplus of plums from their garden in her deep freeze. She held her breath. Heinz had turned the lawn mower off in the backyard.
“Heinz!”
Nothing. Just the telephone, ringing on and on. Charlotte shook her hands over the bowl and looked around for the cloth. It was draped over the chair, just out of reach. Charlotte poked her head out the window into the backyard.
“Heinz. Telephone!”
“What?”
The caller was certainly persistent. The phone rang and rang.
“The phone!”
“Well, then answer it.”
“I’ve got dough on my hands.”
The ringing stopped.
“Doesn’t matter.” Charlotte carried on kneading. Ten seconds later, it rang again.
“Telephone.” Heinz’s voice sounded cheerful. “I’ve got mud on my feet and need to wipe my shoes. You get it.”
The dough was drier now and easier to wipe off. Charlotte went into the den and picked up the receiver. A small clump of dough fell onto the console.
“Hi, it’s Walter again. Were you not in just now?”
“We were.” Charlotte brushed the crumb into the floor. “But I was kneading dough, and Heinz is mowing the lawn. We didn’t get there quickly enough.”
“Oh, right. Then I shouldn’t disturb Heinz. He sounds busy.”
So am I, thought Charlotte. “What do you want? Maybe I can help.”
He thought for a moment. “Could you ask him if it would be okay to pick me up tomorrow evening at nine thirty-nine in Westerland?”
“Why so late? The trains are pretty regular, so you can be here much sooner than that.”
“Could you please just ask him if it would put him out?”
Charlotte sighed. “Just a moment.”
She opened the window farther and was just about to call out when she realized her husband was standing just beneath it, looking up at her.
“Walter wanted to know if it would put you out to pick him up from the station tomorrow at nine thirty-nine at night.”
“Why so late?”
Charlotte picked up the receiver again. “Heinz wants to know why you’re coming so late.”
“It’s the ticket I bought. It’s a discount ticket for senior citizens, and because I’ll be traveling on a Sunday and so on. It only costs fifty-four euros and fifty cents, just imagine, from Dortmund to Westerland. The sole restriction is I can’t go with the high-speed Intercity-Express.”
“What’s he saying?” Heinz asked from outside.
Charlotte took the receiver from her ear. “He’s got some saver ticket. But it’s not valid on the Intercity.”
“Aha. And when does he leave?”
“Walter? When do you set off?”
Walter could be heard rustling papers at the other end. “At eight twenty in the morning. I have to change seven times.”
“You must be kidding me. Heinz, he’s setting off at eight twenty a.m., and changing seven times.”
“Ask him what he’s paying.”
“I heard that, Charlotte. As I said, fifty-four euros and fifty cents.”
Charlotte lowered the receiver again. “Fifty-four euros and fifty cents.”
Heinz nodded approvingly. “That’s a bargain. Walter sure does know how to save his pennies. And quite right too. Not even the railway bosses will make a profit from that ticket. Of course I’ll pick him up. And if he can save more, then tell him even later is fine too.”
“It’s fine, Walter.” Her tone was cool. “Make sure you pack plenty of sandwiches so you don’t have to buy expensive food on the train or at the stations.”
“Yep, I’m making them now,” answered Walter enthusiastically. “Do you think six sandwiches will be enough? Then I’ll have one for the morning too.”
Charlotte rubbed her flour-covered fingers across the console. “I’m sure it will, Walter. See you tomorrow.”
Shortly afterward, Christine came into the kitchen. Her mother was just scraping the mixing bowl, and she popped the spoon in her mouth at the end.
“What’s going on?” Christine leaned over and peered into the oven. “You never lick the bowl. You always used to give it to me.”
“I need carbs.” Charlotte’s mouth was smeared with cake dough. “For my nerves.”
“Your n
erves are shot again? What happened?”
“Uncle Walter has pulled one over on the railway company by riding the train for thirteen hours for a mere fifty-four euros and fifty cents. With seven changes. And don’t you try commenting on how clever he is too. I’ve heard enough of that from your father.”
“So when’s he coming?”
“Tomorrow evening at nine thirty-nine. Dad’s picking him up.”
“Aha.”
After the conversation with Aunt Inge, Christine was feeling guilty. They shouldn’t have called Uncle Walter, but on the other hand, the attack was a serious matter, and they couldn’t keep something like that from him. She took out a bottle of water and two glasses.
“I’m going to sit outside.”
Charlotte ran her finger through the bowl and didn’t answer.
By the time Johann sat down next to Christine on the bench, freshly showered and with his hair still wet, she was lost in thought. He took the bottle from her hand and poured himself a glass. “There’s a reading in one of the local bars tonight. Three authors are reading from their crime novels. Shall we go?”
“Uncle Walter is coming tomorrow on a budget ticket.”
“Well, that’s tomorrow, not tonight. Does your aunt know?”
Christine looked at him hesitantly. “No.”
“Hmm. But you promised not to get involved.”
“My mother called him. There’s not much I can do about that.”
Johann took a sip and stretched his legs out. “Well, never mind. Shall we go to the reading then? I know two of the novels, and they were really good.”
“Johann?”
“Yes?”
“I heard something before at Petra’s, and I can’t get it out of my head.”
“What?”
“There was a message for Aunt Inge on Petra’s machine. From some man who was planning to pick her up at eight this morning. It sounded as if they were close, but Inge didn’t say who it was. Petra thought it was strange too.”
“Christine?”