Life After Forty
Page 16
Nina took up the suggestion. “Let’s do that. Rüdiger’s only making digs because your divorce won’t just be quick, but also cheap.”
She raised her glass at Rüdiger. He wagged his finger at her and made a play of looking distraught.
“It was just my opinion as a friend, nothing to do with work.”
Nina ignored him. “So, new subject. Christine, you’re almost done with all the stress now, so maybe it’s time you started to focus on your love life again.”
Charlotte whispered, Richard.
Edith answered, Hold your tongue.
Maren answered for me. “You’ll have to leave that one to Christine, Nina. When it’s meant to happen, it will happen.”
Nina wouldn’t let it go. “But you’ve been alone for eight months now. That must be horrible.”
Dorothea started to laugh loudly. “My dear, I’ve been living alone for three years, and I still find it wonderful.”
Ines stood up and collected the full ashtrays. “Now, let’s change the subject, and by the way, it looks like we’ve emptied another bottle already.”
Leonie tried to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Just don’t settle down again too soon. Find a lover first, no strings, just for the transition period.”
Seeing the uncomfortable expressions on Michael, Rüdiger, and Georg’s faces, I stood up and followed Ines into the kitchen. In passing, I said, “I’ll think about it. By the way, there’s still loads to eat. I’ll fetch fresh plates.”
In the kitchen Ines and Marleen were stacking the dishwasher. I started to wash the glasses by hand since they wouldn’t fit in the machine. As Ines was about to protest, I interrupted her. “I have to do something; my bottom hurts from too much sitting down.”
Franziska appeared next to me and grabbed a tea towel.
“Great idea. I’ll take over kitchen duty with the birthday girl, and we’ll be back before you know it.”
Marleen looked at me questioningly. I nodded. “Let me hang out here for a moment. Why don’t you open another bottle of champagne, and I’ll bring it across. Besides, Ines has barely eaten anything while she’s been serving everybody.”
Ines looked at Marleen, then reached for a plate and helped herself to the buffet.
“Marleen, do you want some too?”
She did, so the two of them went back to the others with their plates piled high. Franziska silently polished the glasses that I put down for her. She glanced at me twice, and I had the feeling she wanted to ask me something. After the third glass, she did.
“Was Leonie serious about you finding a lover?”
“I think so. She already suggested it once when we were at the sauna.”
Franziska energetically rubbed at the already dry glass. “That’s unbelievable.”
Astonished, I paused. I’d never seen Franziska as small-minded or excessively moral.
I tried to appease her. “Leonie doesn’t want a lover for herself; she was just suggesting I should. I’m sure she didn’t mean it that seriously.”
Franziska took the next glass. “It’s nothing against Leonie, I just think a suggestion like that is completely nuts.”
I needed to summon all of my energy not to let Charlotte into my mind.
“Oh Franziska, come on, it’s not like the streets of Hamburg are paved with lovers.”
She looked at me earnestly. “Christine, I think it’s great how you’ve coped these last months, and I’m really fond of you. You’re perfectly entitled to tell me it’s none of my business, but I was watching you earlier at the table and you looked sad a few times. And I saw you keep checking your cell phone. I’m sure you weren’t waiting for a call from your ex, and when Leonie said that just now, alarm bells went off.”
I put the glass down and looked at her. “What do you mean?”
She sat down at the kitchen table and thought for a moment before she answered.
“I could be wrong, perhaps it’s just bringing back memories of my own experience, but don’t start an affair with someone in your situation, especially not someone who’s tied down.”
I dried my hands and sat opposite her. “Is that what happened to you?”
Franziska looked at me. “Yes, and I’ll never do it again. Back then I thought I could handle it, and that all the stuff about what lovers have to go through was just a cliché. You know, birthdays, weekends, Christmas—there are enough novels and films about it all. But unfortunately, every one of the clichés is true.”
She paused and twisted her wedding ring. She saw my gaze fall on it. She looked up, smiled, and carried on.
“Eight years ago I was left just as despicably as you were. We weren’t married and had only been living together for three years, but it was a shock to me nonetheless. Afterwards I moved from Münster to Hamburg. I wanted to get away and make a new start, and above all, never to fall in love again. I was here alone for a year, knew a few colleagues, some women from exercise classes and so on. Everything was peaceful and manageable. I often felt lonely, but I didn’t mind.
“Over New Year I went on a skiing trip with my sister, and I met a man in the hotel there. His name was Hannes. He was a computer programmer and came from Hamburg. I thought he was amazing, and the feeling was mutual. He told me right away that he was married. His wife hated skiing, so he was there with a friend. Somehow, I was caught up in the moment back then and I didn’t care. To cut to the chase, we got involved with each other. It was great, it was unbelievably easy, and we were enamored with one another.
“Three weeks after the trip, he turned up on my doorstep. His marriage was rather strange. His wife lived with the children in Munich, and he had been the manager of the Hamburg branch of a Munich software company for the last year. During the week he lived in Eppendorf, and on Fridays he flew to Munich. To start with I thought our situation was ideal. I didn’t want a serious relationship, especially after the last debacle. We saw each other regularly and got along brilliantly. We hardly ever went away together in case we ran into people we knew. We kept things private, and that was enough for me. He was good for me.”
I listened to her in fascination. Richard.
Franziska’s eyes were sad.
“After a year it got more and more difficult. He had me, exclusively. There was nothing about me that he didn’t know—job, friends, fears, family, emotions, even contracts and insurance policies. I only knew the Hamburg part of him. I had no idea what he was like in Munich with his family. You know, I always had to stay on my guard to make sure I didn’t fall for him completely. Friday to Monday he was away, and I couldn’t reach him; he left me there. Sometimes there would be a stolen phone call here and there, when he went shopping. I waited, for him to contact me, for him to come back to me from Munich on the spur of the moment; I was always waiting for something. I never let my cell phone out of my sight. I missed him so much, and it became more and more of a torment.”
I was almost scared to ask. “Did you think he would leave her for you?”
Franziska thought about it. “Not for me, but perhaps with my help. He wasn’t happy in his old life; we often spoke about that. After the first year he said to me that he wanted to get a divorce, that he felt so at ease with me and wanted to have that forever. In total, he said that five times, but it never happened. All I could do was wait. At some point I had the feeling that he only needed me to be able to endure his muddled life. I was making the very thing bearable that broke my heart every weekend. Plaster for the soul.”
I saw Edith’s triumphant smile. Now, listen closely please. This is what happens.
Charlotte seemed worried.
Franziska stood up and reached for the towel again. “It lasted two years; then he wanted to take a break, allegedly because I was finding the whole thing harder and harder to cope with. I had no more energy to fight him, so that’s how it ended.”
I stood beside her and washed the last two glasses. “What does Hannes do now?”
My gaze fell on her wedding ring again. “So when did you meet Stefan?”
“I already knew him from before. He was one of my brother’s colleagues. We were all celebrating New Year’s together, and at midnight I had a crying fit about Hannes. Stefan came to my rescue. He was so caring, and that’s how it happened. He’s so different from Hannes, but he was there for me. It sounds silly, but you can’t imagine how much I enjoyed just going to the supermarket with him. Everything was suddenly allowed—and simple.”
I found her story unbearably sad. “How long ago was this?”
Her answer came quickly. “Five years. Shortly after that things with Stefan started, and we got married three years ago.”
“Do you still think about Hannes?”
Franziska thought for a while. “Sometimes, when I hear certain songs and other memories come up. But it’s always a sad feeling. Then I look at Stefan and feel that everything is safe and right. That calms me.”
I felt a longing grow within me. And I felt Charlotte’s fears at the same time. Before either of us could say anything, Dorothea ripped the door open.
“Are you guys laying contact paper in all the drawers or what? What’s taking you so long?”
Franziska laughed. “That’s an idea. Contact paper. Does that even still exist? We’re done now.”
She pushed me out of the kitchen and whispered, “I hope you didn’t take that the wrong way. It’s just that it was very hard for me at times, and I would prefer to spare you from feeling the same thing. But if you’re not sure, then don’t pay too much attention to the bitter ramblings of a middle-aged woman.”
I let her go ahead of me, watching her walk away. At that moment my cell rang. My heart pounded when I saw the name on the display. Richard. I answered the call and went back into the kitchen.
“Christine, I at least wanted to congratulate you myself. Many happy returns on your birthday. I’m kissing and hugging you.”
I could hear strange noises in the background.
“Thank you. I’m kissing you too. Where are you?”
There was so much clattering and rattling that I could hardly hear him.
“I’m just bringing the bottles to the recycling. They’re making such a racket.”
Edith whispered, Stolen conversations.
I swallowed. Then I heard his voice again, and it went straight to my heart.
“Have you had a nice day?”
“Ines and Dorothea invited lots of guests over. It’s lovely, but you’re not here.”
Richard’s voice was hesitant. “Yes, I know, but it wouldn’t be possible. I have to go now. Will it wait until Wednesday?”
I answered quickly. “Of course, seven p.m. at your place. I’m looking forward to it a lot.”
Richard’s voice was tender now. “Me too. And we’ll celebrate your birthday in style. See you soon. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
We hung up.
I took a deep breath and went back to my birthday guests.
We sat together for another few hours, ate a lot, drank a lot, and talked without stopping. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun with this many guests. Richard’s call had set my heart at ease, and the people here, my mind.
As the evening approached, the party began to draw to a close. Marleen had taken the next day off and was staying at my place for the night, so I said sentimental goodbyes to the others. Ines and Dorothea offered their help cleaning up, which Marleen and I refused.
“We’ll manage. I’ve hardly spoken with Christine yet, and you get to see her in Hamburg all the time. Leave us alone this once.”
I hugged Dorothea and Ines. “Thank you, both of you, that was the most wonderful birthday I’ve had in years.”
They were the last guests to leave. As the door closed behind them, Marleen and I were left alone. We looked around us in the apartment and took a deep breath at the sight of the chaos. Marleen pulled her sleeves up and looked at me.
“Come on, let’s make a start. We’ll get things shipshape now, and then we can open up the champagne I brought.”
An hour later we were sitting in the tidied and cleaned kitchen with a cooler holding an open bottle of champagne between us. We had lit candles, and there were vases full of flowers everywhere. I felt good, the day had been great, my apartment was beautiful, I had only had people around me whom I liked, and they had all liked each other too. It was easy and undemanding in a way that I hadn’t experienced for ages.
Marleen stretched out her legs, reached for my cigarettes, and lit one up.
“I only ever smoke when I’m drinking with you. I really should bring you a box sometime.”
I pushed an ashtray towards her. “Don’t you dare!”
Marleen smiled and looked at me. “Are you proud?”
I thought about the question. “Of myself? I don’t know. I’m proud of all the people who were here, I know that. It’s good for me, this new life of mine.”
Marleen poured champagne. “I told you, didn’t I? That we’d be laughing about it on your birthday. And I’m certainly proud of you.” She raised her glass at me.
We both drank and fell into a peaceful silence. Images flew through my head: Marleen and I in her house on the day when she told me everything, Bernd and I on her terrace, the bottle bank, the mailbox application, Luise and Stilwerk, and then suddenly, Richard.
I felt Marleen watching me. When I looked up, she asked me.
“Now, tell me what’s going on. Something’s up with you. I wanted to ask you weeks ago on the phone, but you always dodge the question. Where are you on Wednesdays, for example? I can never get hold of you then. I realized that last month.”
I looked at her, heard Franziska’s voice in my mind, took a deep breath, and started. “Six years ago I met one of Bernd’s colleagues in Berlin. His name is Richard.”
I told her the whole story, making an effort to keep everything in the right chronological order and to relay it in a factual voice. I only hinted at my feelings, but I did describe him, recount some of the many funny things he’d said, and talked about his job, his apartment, his life.
It did me good to talk about him.
When I finished, Marleen took another cigarette. I couldn’t read her facial expression. I tried to preempt a possible judgment.
“Marleen, I know what you’re going to say. I’m getting involved in someone else’s marriage, I’m no better than Antje, it will all end in tears, after all my experiences I shouldn’t be someone’s lover, I…”
Looking amazed, she interrupted me. “You have no idea what I’m going to say. Perhaps you could let me speak for myself?”
“Sorry, I take it back.”
Marleen smiled and thought for a moment. “I saw your face when you were talking about him. And I read between the lines a little. The rest doesn’t really matter to me. If it’s doing you good, if he makes your heart race and you feel alive again, then let it be. It’s right for now.”
I thought about Franziska’s story and her warning. “When I was in the kitchen with Franziska before, she told me her story to scare me off. Before she met her husband she was having an affair with a married man for three years. She suffered a lot, and I found the story quite depressing.”
Marleen waved that aside. “That was her story, not yours. It’s nonsense too. What do you want to make plans for at this stage? You’re in love, Richard seems to be too, and so what? As long as you’re okay, it’s the best thing that could happen to you right now. You can build up your new life here in peace, but have something for your heart and your desires too. So just wait and see.”
Edith butted in. You can’t plan anything. You have to share him. You’re the other woman.
As if Marleen had heard Edith, she answered. “You’re coming out of a supposedly dependable, planned relationship.
When was the last time someone made your heart pound? Five years ago? Ten? That’s a real shame. What you have, right now, doesn’t come along very often.”
Charlotte thanked her quietly.
I wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know. My heart says yes, but my head says no.”
Marleen shared out the rest of the champagne between our glasses. She looked me straight in the eyes. “Christine, then listen to your heart and let yourself go. You can rely on your head; after all, you’ve achieved enough. But you haven’t lived enough in the last few years, that’s my opinion. You’re forty, you’re independent, you’ve set up a wonderful life for yourself, and Richard is just the icing on the cake. And even if it goes wrong, you can laugh about this in half a year’s time as well. So, I’m happy for you. Just let it be.”
I drank down the rest of the champagne.
Edith retreated. Charlotte smiled.
I caught Marleen’s eye. “I thought my life would be more peaceful and well-ordered now.”
She looked at me, pretending to be horror-struck. “Heaven forbid. That would be awful.”
As I lay in bed later, my thoughts turned to Richard. So, I thought, we’ll just let it happen.
Moments later, I fell fast asleep.
Couples
It was December 23, and I was in a good mood. At least, that was my intention.
The car radio was playing the eternally popular Christmas hits, and the Christmas lights on the houses and streets put to rest any dark thoughts. I had an amazingly tender night behind me and days of festivities in Sylt in front of me. I turned the volume up as Chris Rea sang “Driving Home for Christmas” and drove along the highway towards Hamburg.
Richard and I had had our Christmas meal the night before. He was now on his way to Berlin, and I was driving to my parents’. The two highways separated in Hamburg. I joined the long line of cars driving northwards.
The radio presenter was talking in her professionally jolly voice about some jolly event at a Christmas market in Harz organized by Radio NDR, and she said that—as a result—the traffic jam near the Walsroder triangle was now backed up to twenty-one kilometers. Reassured, I turned the volume down—it wasn’t on my route—and then I turned it right back up again as Dido sang “White Flag,” from the album we’d listened to for half the night.