by Dora Heldt
Johann winced. “Ouch!”
Christine strained her neck so as not to miss anything. “Poor Horst. I hope Renate doesn’t slap him too.”
Renate stood there haughtily, not saying a word. She shot the woman a poisonous look and looked expectantly at Horst. The poor man seemed to be the only one who was completely overwhelmed by the situation; he was just looking helplessly back and forth between the two women. After a heated exchange, the short-haired woman turned on her heel and stormed off. Horst said something to Renate, then ran after the woman. And Renate? With the most contemptuous expression Christine had ever seen, she held her chin high and just kept on dancing by herself.
Johann and Christine looked at each other, and Johann nodded admiringly.
“She’s got some nerve. You’ve got to hand it to her.”
His admiration seemed to echo across the room. Johann had barely finished his sentence before Renate noticed their table and came rushing over to them.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t even see you there. Have you been here for long?”
Johann stood up gallantly and fetched a chair for her. “Have a seat, Frau von Graf. Would you like a drink?”
Renate suddenly seemed enamored. “Thank you, how charming of you. Perhaps a little glass of champagne.”
“Is your bottle over there already empty?” Christine ignored Johann’s stern look. She didn’t think Renate deserved any comforting. “Because if there’s some left, we can have it brought over here. It would be a shame to waste such expensive stuff.”
“Christine!” hissed Johann.
Renate wasn’t so sensitive. “That’s true. Especially as it’s already been paid for. Did you notice that fracas just now?”
“Yes.” Christine drowned out Johann, who was about to say that they hadn’t. “It sure was something. Did you know the woman?”
Renate threw her head back. “I’m very glad I don’t. She was awful. I mean, who goes into a bar wearing sports clothes? And her hair! Some women really do run around dressed like their own mothers. Horst told me he was here on business, you know. So how was I supposed to know his wife would turn up? Oh well, it’s no great loss. And he ran to her like a little boy. What a coward! But enough of that—shouldn’t we be on first-name terms by now? Call me Renate, please.”
She lifted her glass and beamed at Johann. She would be kissing him next at this rate. It was Johann’s own fault for being so well brought up. As Renate turned her undivided attention to him, Christine ordered herself another cocktail. To Horst!
Later, after bundling Renate into a taxi, Christine and Johann made their way home.
“You have to grant her one thing…” Christine was trying to talk away her hiccups. “She has…confidence. She didn’t seem at all traumatized that Horst had slipped through her fingers…Oh, they’re coming back…the…hiccups, I…mean.”
“You need someone to surprise you. Then they’ll go away.”
“What did Renate…whisper to you…about Horst and his wife?”
Johann abruptly grabbed hold of Christine’s neck, pulled her toward him, and kissed her. Then he looked at her. “Well?”
Christine kissed him back and nipped his lip a little. “Well what?”
“The hiccups. Are they gone?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes, that seems to have helped. Is that the only reason you…oh…kissed me?”
“Of course.” He put his arm around her shoulders and started to walk again. “Horst told Renate that his marriage was over. Well…I’m sure it probably is now.”
“I don’t think…I mean, he followed his wife immediately…afterward.”
Johann laughed. “And you think that helped?”
Christine’s hiccups went up a notch. “It…doesn’t…matter. Oh…God…My parents’ place is all lit up again.”
They could already see the house, and all the lights were indeed on. Christine quickened her pace.
“I hope nothing’s happened.”
“Have you noticed?” said Johann as he hurried behind her. “Your hiccups are gone. I told you, a surprise does the trick.”
Christine was already at the door, putting her key in the lock. But some large object was stopping the door from opening. She pushed against it.
“Johann, help me, will you.”
He pushed too, and together they managed to open it by a small crack. “There’s something on the floor.”
Christine called out, “Dad? Mom?” No one answered.
“Well, it’s not a corpse at least.” Johann peered through the crack. “It’s silver. A mermaid perhaps?” He started to laugh.
Christine glared at him. “Don’t be silly. I’m going to try the back.”
She went around the house, where she found the key in the back door. She called out to Johann, “Come on, it’s open.”
They went along the hallway into the kitchen, from where Walter’s triumphant voice was booming out, “A triple! Ha, there you go!”
“Evening, everyone.” Christine stopped in the doorway, Johann behind her. “What’s blocking the front door? It won’t open.”
“Christine!” Walter beamed at her. He was holding dice in his hand, with a bottle of beer and three neat piles of coins in front of him on the table. “I’m winning. You’ll have to lend your father five euros, he’s a bit short. Who’s that behind you? Your new boyfriend, I presume? Come on in, and if you’ve got some spare change on you, feel free to join in.”
Heinz, who was running the tip of his tongue frantically over his lower lip, was concentrating on adding up a column of figures. “One euro and seventy cents. Walter, you’re cheating. And you haven’t paid a penny yet.”
“Johann, this is my Uncle Walter, Inge’s husband. Where is she, by the way?”
“In bed. The lucky thing,” Charlotte retorted from her perch at the end of the kitchen table. She unwrapped a chocolate bar and shoved half of it into her mouth. “Help yourself, you two, we have plenty.”
“You can say that again.” Walter pointed to a box in the cupboard. “Economy pack. You get fifteen for free. I brought them along as a present.”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Intrigued, Christine tried to figure out how much chocolate her mother had devoured during the course of the evening based on the pile of empty wrappers.
“Right then.” Uncle Walter pushed his coin towers carefully together. “Are we having another round?”
“I’m not feeling well.” Charlotte stood up slowly and put a hand on her stomach. “Do we still have some antacids somewhere?”
“In the bathroom cabinet, where they always are.” Unconcerned by his wife’s discomfort, Heinz carried on counting, while Walter checked his calculations over his shoulder. “Nine minus seven is two, so that’s not correct. I won more than that. You see? I knew it without even having to count.”
Christine stood back to let her mother pass. “So what’s blocking the door in the hallway?”
“My bag.” Walter shook the dice in his hands and beamed proudly. “It’s a wonderful thing. I borrowed it. You can fit enough clothes for four weeks in there. Toiletries go in a side pocket, and there are internal pockets with zippers for your documents and everything. Go and take a look if you want to.”
“Did he say four weeks?” murmured Charlotte from behind Johann and Christine. She had come back unnoticed, a box of tablets in her hand. “Too much chocolate always does this to me.” She stood on her tiptoes to look into the kitchen. “I’m going to bed. Good night. Walter, your bedding is on the sofa.”
“’Night.”
“’Night.”
“And you two, Christine?” Heinz looked up impatiently. “Either you join in, or go to bed. Standing around in the doorway like that makes me nervous.”
“’Night, Dad. ’Night, Uncle Walter.” Christine pulled decisively at Johann’s sweater. “We’re tired. Enjoy.”
Instead of answering, Walter let the dice tumble down loudly onto the table.
Wh
ile Johann was brushing his teeth, Christine slipped out of the room and knocked softly on her parents’ bedroom door.
“I’m asleep.”
“You’re lying. You’re reading.”
Charlotte lowered her book and leaned back. “Well, I wasn’t sure who was knocking. Come in, but be quiet. If Dad and Walter hear us, they’ll be worried they’re missing something and bring their beers up here.”
“So haven’t they been to Inge’s yet?”
“They sure have.” She waited until Christine sat down on the edge of the bed. “But it didn’t go well. That’s why Walter is staying here for the night.”
“Oh no.” A wave of sympathy washed over Christine. “Poor Walter. Inge is being really tough at the moment. I guess he’s feeling pretty down in the dumps now, right?”
“No idea. Anyway, he wants to watch the Dortmund and Bayern match tomorrow. Heinz has already advised him which pub to go to. And he also wants to lodge an appeal for exemption from visitors’ tax, and that will require a court judgment. The authorities had better be ready for him.”
Her mother went into a fit of giggles. Christine looked at her thoughtfully. “And what about him and Aunt Inge?” She hoped Charlotte wasn’t coming unraveled under all the strain.
Charlotte wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. “Walter says she’s fine. And Heinz says it will all work itself out. But then again, your father has a new theory about what’s going on with Inge every ten minutes.” She gave a tormented groan. “And I just look at that huge monstrosity of a bag and wonder how long this drama is going on for. Inge’s really left me in the lurch.”
“You were the one who phoned Walter.”
“Well, I thought he would sort everything out. He was supposed to smooth things over with Inge.”
“Did they have a serious fight?”
“What do I know? I’m not sure if she’s left him or not. But I can’t get involved. They’ll have to sort out their own mess.” Charlotte looked for a tissue. “In any case, I don’t feel like looking after my brother-in-law for weeks on end. I’m not everyone’s mother. Walter’s even worse than your father.”
“Mom!”
“Well, it’s true. I think I must have been out of my mind when I called Walter. Anyway, if Inge does leave him, I’m sure she’ll have her reasons.” She pulled her blanket up decisively. “And now I want to sleep. Good night.”
“Good night, Mom.”
Christine walked slowly out of the bedroom and closed the door softly. She was barely in the bathroom before she heard Walter’s melodious low voice. “Take a good look. This is what a winner looks like, you know.” Shaking her head, she remembered that Johann was waiting for her in bed just down the corridor.
As she lay down next to him and gave a long sigh of relief, Johann put his arms around her.
“Well?”
“My mother is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Uncle Walter is planning to sue the local authorities, my father is blowing his pension playing cards, and Aunt Inge’s still acting as though nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just great.”
He laughed softly and kissed her shoulder. “So Inge wasn’t happy to see him?”
“She threw him out. That’s why he’s sleeping here. And judging by the size of that bag, I’d say he plans to stay for a long time.”
Johann looked at her thoughtfully. “Listen, shouldn’t we look for a hotel for the next few days? Maybe it will be a little less stressful for your mother if we go and Walter sleeps up here.”
So much for her intention of showing Johann that she came from the average sane German family.
“I’m not sure.” Christine chewed her lower lip. “Yes, maybe you’re right. I’ll speak to my mom about it.”
She pictured a quiet little hotel. Right on the seafront, a big bed, perhaps a sauna, a nice restaurant. No Heinz, no Walter, no nervous breakdowns; just Johann and her.
She would suggest it to her parents first thing tomorrow morning. Smiling, she rolled toward Johann. “You always have such wonderful ideas.” She closed her eyes as he pulled her against him for a passionate kiss.
Chapter 24
* * *
Heinz and Charlotte stopped talking the moment Christine walked into the kitchen the next morning. “What’s wrong?” she asked, confused. “There’s no need to stop talking on my account.”
“Nothing,” answered Heinz. “Your mother and I were just establishing that we have very different views about family life, that’s all.”
“Why?”
Charlotte waved her hand impatiently. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Did you want coffee, Christine?”
“I do know what I’m talking about, and it’s this…” Aggravated, Heinz banged his hand down on his saucer. “I don’t want to throw my brother-in-law out on the streets.”
“I’m not suggesting we throw Walter out on the streets, for God’s sake!” Charlotte shouted, and then she turned the volume down. “The man gets a good pension, so I’m sure he can afford a few days in a hotel. Just until your sister has come to her senses.”
“My sister won’t come to her senses—she’s having a crisis, and I’m going to find out why, mark my words. But that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re throwing Walter out of the house.”
“Dad, wait a moment. I…”
“Don’t you get involved too! Unless you’re on my side, that is.”
Charlotte glared at her husband angrily. “You’re behaving impossibly. Now you’re even turning my own daughter against me.”
“Your daughter? Ha! She’s ours.”
“Enough!” Christine slammed the palm of her hand down on the table. Her parents jumped. “Have you lost your minds? No one has to get thrown out. Johann and I are going to a hotel.”
“But why?” Charlotte and Heinz stared at their daughter, both looking equally stunned. Heinz was the first to speak.
“You don’t need to move out just because Uncle Walter is sleeping here for a few nights. We’ve got enough room. You see, Charlotte, this is because you’re arguing with me. Now we’re even driving the children away.”
At least he had said “we” this time, thought Christine, feeling weary.
“It’s just easier if Uncle Walter stays upstairs and doesn’t have to sleep on the couch. We can always come and join you for breakfast in the mornings.”
The sound of Johann clearing his throat hindered any more discussion. “Good morning. Are we too late for coffee?”
“No, no.” Charlotte gave him a forced smile. “Morning, Johann. The coffee’s still on. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you.” He exchanged looks with Christine. “I’ve found two hotels that still have vacancies, so we can go take a look right after breakfast.”
Christine sighed with relief. “Okay. I’ll set the table. Where’s Uncle Walter?”
“In the den.” Heinz pointed at the door. “He’s just writing a letter detailing why he doesn’t want to pay visitors’ tax. He sure has guts.”
“Why?” Christine pushed the bowl of pralines away from her mother, making her reach out for empty air. “He doesn’t need to pay tax anyway if he’s staying with family or friends.”
“But for entrance to the beach I do,” answered Uncle Walter, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway waving a letter. “And I don’t think that’s fair. Do you happen to have an envelope and a stamp? I could take it personally, of course, and then I’d save the postage.”
“Why would you be saving?” Charlotte had managed to get hold of a praline. “It’s our stamps you’re taking.”
“It’s just the one stamp.” Walter looked at his sister-in-law, shaking his head. “Aren’t you eating a little too much sugar, Charlotte? How’s your cholesterol?”
Charlotte pushed her way past him, still chewing. “I’ll be in the backyard.”
Christine stroked Johann’s back. “Come on, the coffee’s ready. Would you like to have breakfast here
or on the terrace?”
“On the terrace…please.” His voice sounded desperate. “I’ll see you out there.”
While Christine loaded up the tray, Uncle Walter sat down next to Heinz and reached for the paper.
“So what’s going on in the world?”
“Not much.” Heinz looked up and tapped an article. “They’re starting the sand replenishment in Kampen again today. Have you ever been to see it before? Given that Sylt is so exposed to the North Sea, its coast is constantly being eroded by the tide, so they regularly replenish the beaches with sand from elsewhere. It’s really fascinating to watch.”
“Great, I’ll come with you then. And we can drop off my letter at the tourism office on the way.”
“But that’ll mean taking a detour.”
“And?” Walter patted him on the shoulder. “You told me your car’s fuel consumption was really low, so it’s nothing. And it’ll give the engine a chance to warm up. All those short journeys aren’t good, you know.”
“So, Uncle Walter.” Christine turned to face him. “What’s happening with Aunt Inge?”
He looked baffled. “Inge? Why? Do you think she’d be interested in the sand replenishment?”
Christine had to make an effort to put on her most patient expression. “No, that’s not what I meant. Didn’t you come out here to look after her?”
“Inge?”
“Uncle Walter!” She had lost all patience. “My God, it’s her you’ve come here for, not the goddamn sand replenishment!”
Walter looked at his brother-in-law helplessly. Heinz spoke up, “Don’t shout at your uncle like that. He’s done nothing to you.”