“Really?”
She nodded, but her expression lacked confidence. “I fear that he’ll talk his way out of it yet again though.”
“Why’s that?”
“In the past, David always tried to please our parents.” Kristina sighed. “They thought Valerie was the perfect choice for him, and the last time he wanted to break up with her, they pretty much strong-armed him into staying with her.”
“For what?”
“Valerie’s father is a partner at the law firm and has all the most important clients.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Meanwhile, Valerie is doing everything she can to win David back.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately. She’s totally obsessed with the idea of dragging David to the altar.”
I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Forcing myself not to think about David anymore, I tried to concentrate on the upcoming concert instead. I pulled a tank top and a short black leather jacket out of the wardrobe and held them up for Kristina.
“What do you think?”
“Sensational.”
As I got changed, I realized that I had missed spending time with my cousin. My decision to turn my back on my father’s side of the family suddenly no longer seemed like such a great idea.
I shivered as we walked through the cool September air toward the old warehouse district.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” I asked Lukas. The setting reminded me of a horror film, and I was starting to get a little nervous. Of course, the first to be killed would be the innocent one—me—slaughtered by a psychopathic ax murderer.
Lukas pulled a crumpled flyer out of his pants pocket and held the directions under my nose.
“The entrance has to be on the other side of the building.” He hastened his steps, and Kristina and I had difficulty keeping up.
I breathed a sigh of relief when we found a cluster of people waiting in a long line in front of a nondescript door. We got in line and inched forward toward the door. “Did you ask David to come with us?” I dug my hands into the pocket of the leather jacket and looked at Lukas and Kristina questioningly.
Kristina, who had been humming the band’s new song “Love Illumination” to herself, held up both hands and abstained from commenting.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because.”
“I see.”
“Then we’re clear.”
Kristina elbowed her brother in the side and grinned. “Lukas must have realized that David has replaced him as Agathe’s favorite.”
Lukas’s somber face was priceless. “Yeah, it sucks,” he said. “She always cooks his favorite dishes. While I’m not even allowed to ask what we’re having dinner.”
Kristina and I laughed.
“How old are you, Lukas? Twelve?” I would have never thought that my cousin would make so much out of such a petty thing.
Lukas couldn’t stop himself. “And recently, she even said he looked like a young Alain Delon.”
“Since when has Agathe adored Alain Delon?” I asked, not disclosing the fact that I agreed with Agathe.
“No idea,” said Kristina, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “But Lukas has spoken poorly of David ever since—even though I think it’s a little childish.”
Lukas mumbled something and signaled for us to shut our mouths.
We flung our hands in the air, clapped in time to the music, and sang along to every verse. As Franz Ferdinand played their second encore, the crowd erupted into a mad frenzy. The bass boomed through me and the drums delivered a thrilling rhythm on this perfect night.
During the last few hours, all my problems had fallen away, and I had forgotten the suspicious messages. As long as Uncle Matthias got better, I didn’t care if I got hundreds of messages. I would just collect all the malicious little cards and share them with my coworkers when I got back to Berlin. Satisfied with that plan, I sang along hoarsely with the refrain of the last song.
We pulled into the driveway shortly before midnight. Lukas and I were belting out a somewhat off-key rendition of “Take Me Out,” when Kristina called our attention to what was clearly recognizable as the beam from a flashlight wandering through the garden like a ghost.
“How odd.” Seemingly unfazed, Lukas parked his father’s SUV in front of the carriage house and got out.
“But it’s not as though someone hasn’t already wreaked havoc on the garden.” Kristina yawned and shut the passenger-side door.
“What?” I looked at them both in horror. What was going on here? Obviously, I wasn’t the only target of cruelty.
“Last time we think it was boars,” Lukas said, looking doubtfully toward the garden.
“So it was boars that pulled up the new rosebushes? Bullshit,” Kristina said.
“I have no idea.” Lukas shrugged and grinned at me. “In any case, Dad lay in wait all the next day with our grandfather’s old shotgun.”
I imagined Uncle Matthias in his pajamas as he hunted the boar that had destroyed my aunt’s sacred garden.
“More dangerous than the boar was the rifle that had been sitting in the cellar for several decades. Dad isn’t known to be the best shot,” Kristina said.
Lukas laughed. “But you know Mom. When she discovered that her beautiful rose bed—with the new roses from England!—had been destroyed, she drove Dad so crazy that he didn’t know what to do.”
I found the story funny, but I didn’t find the intruder in the garden amusing.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We nab our culprit,” Lukas answered. He looked around for a suitable weapon and snatched a spade that was learning against the side of the small tool shed.
“Are you going to hit him over the head with the shovel?” Appalled, I looked at my cousin, who was headed for the garden beds; the glow from the flashlight still flickered frantically.
“You got it, it’s a home invasion after all.”
“Lukas.” Kristina ran up to him and grabbed his hoodie.
“It’s way too dangerous!”
“Bullshit.”
“Can’t we just call the police?” I suggested.
“By the time they get here, this guy will be long gone,” Lukas said.
“So?” I asked.
“And then Mom will be completely hysterical and unable to sleep at night, because we haven’t figured out who destroyed her beds.”
This argument seemed to convince Kristina, because she let Lukas’s hoodie go. “Okay, but be careful.”
We crept past the circular rose bed by the front steps and reached the pond. The frenzied glow of the flashlight danced away on the other side of it, where the other flower bed was located. The shape that held the flashlight came closer. I held my breath and hid behind Lukas.
The intruder seemed to be calling a name: “Anastasia.” As the name echoed through the garden several more times, the voice grew more familiar.
“It’s just Uncle Justus!” Kristina said, trying to recognize the figure ahead of us in the black of night.
Uncle Justus, dressed in black as usual, stopped in front of us. “Quelle surprise . . .” he said, acting as though it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be tromping through the garden at this hour.
“What’s going on, Uncle Justus? Did you chase some woman away again?” asked Lukas.
Uncle Justus lowered his flashlight. “I’m looking for Anastasia.”
“So, it is a woman.”
“A Russian Blue,” Uncle Justus corrected, pointing the flashlight toward the beds again.
Kristina and I looked at each other wide-eyed and tried not to dissolve into giggles.
“Now this is getting interesting.” Lukas set the spade down and looked at his uncle, smirking. “She�
��s a Russian . . . ?”
“Russian Blue is a breed of cat.” Uncle Justus looked at us, clearly peeved. “I brought her back from Saint Petersburg two weeks ago and christened her Anastasia. Unfortunately, she just escaped.”
The twins looked amazed. This was evidently news to them.
“If you would please excuse me.” Uncle Justus turned around abruptly and set off through the beds calling his cat’s name.
“Good luck in your search for your Russian pussy,” Lukas said, unable to stop himself, but Uncle Justus was out of earshot.
Giggling, we headed back toward the house. Every time we heard Uncle Justus calling the cat’s name, we began laughing again until we were out of breath.
“Do you believe the story about the cat?” Kristina asked as she fished her key out of her jacket pocket and unlocked the door.
“I’ll only believe it when I find a litter box in the orangery next time I’m there.” Lukas let us go in first and shut the door behind us.
“Why did you visit him?” asked Kristina, astonished, and turned to her brother.
“Why is that so strange?” I broke in.
“Because no one is allowed to visit the orangery except our mother,” explained Lukas, “or would want to.”
“Why didn’t I know about your visits with him?” Kristina demanded, poking her brother in the stomach.
“I don’t know, I forgot to mention it.”
“What?”
I was becoming impatient. “Let’s get back to what we were talking about before.”
Lukas, who was obviously enjoying himself, went into the kitchen. “For that, I need a beer first.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Either of you want anything?”
We didn’t, but we followed him into the kitchen anyway and sat down at the table. Armed with beer and snacks, Lukas took a large slug of his beer and began, “So, once upon a time, a young Jedi warrior named Lukas Westphal . . .”
Kristina grabbed the bowl of nuts and threw a pistachio at him. “Knock it off and get to the point.”
“Okay. A few weeks ago, when you were, I think, in Hamburg”—he pointed at Kristina—“I looked out the window late one night, because I heard noises in the garden.”
“What kind of noises?”
Lukas shrugged. “No idea. I can’t say if it came from an animal or a person.”
I got goose bumps. His story sounded like the opening scene of a horror film.
“In any case, I saw a light flickering in the window over at Uncle Justus’s.”
“Like a fire?” Kristina broke in.
“Something like that. So I ran over to the orangery to make sure everything was all right.”
“And the strange noises?”
“They grew louder as I got closer to the orangery. I banged on the door.”
We hung on to Lukas’s every word, spellbound, which he obviously enjoyed. In order to prolong the torture, he acted as though he needed time to think about what happened next. He only thought better of that when his sister threatened him with a knock on the head.
“Uncle Justus didn’t open up right away, and I began wondering which window I could climb through. When he finally appeared at the door, he was wearing black silk pajamas with a matching bathrobe.” The memory of it made him laugh, and we laughed too. “I wanted to ask him if everything was okay, but the strange noises coming from his living room were so loud that he couldn’t understand a word I said. Then he gestured for me to follow him.” Lukas took another sip of beer.
“Don’t make it so suspenseful,” Kristina said, losing her patience.
“I wondered what kind of oddities awaited me as I followed him. Cult sects, orgies, devil worship—”
“Uncle Justus doesn’t belong to a sect,” I objected.
“When we got to the living room, I saw that everything was covered in white candles. It was totally romantic. Then he turned the music down and asked me what I was doing there.”
“Or more likely, why did you travel to my realm at such an ungodly hour?” Kristina speculated.
“Or, welcome to my formidable home,” I said.
“I don’t remember exactly. I only know that I stood there among some two hundred candles and watched as Uncle Justus turned off his old record player. In those black silk pajamas, he looked like Hugh Hefner.”
“And where were the Bunnies?”
Lukas shook his head at my question. “He was completely alone, listening to these Gregorian chants.”
“So those were the strange noises?”
“Exactly. He gave me a thirty-minute lecture on Gregorian chants and their history. I was so baffled that I couldn’t even put up a fight.”
Kristina and I burst into laughter.
“Yeah, someone has to be the crazy one around here. At least it’s never boring with him around.” Lukas shook his head in amusement.
Thursday
I had to stifle a huge yawn as I headed down to the breakfast table. The night before had done a number on me. Kristina and Lukas seemed to be asleep in their chairs. They nodded to me as I came in.
Aunt Helen, looking as elegant as usual in her cream-colored blouse, looked at me happily as I took my seat.
“Good morning, Elisa.”
“Good morning, Aunt Helen.”
“I’m going to pick Matthias up from the hospital.”
“Really?”
“Yes, he still has a few appointments with the cardiologist, but they’ve said he can come home.”
I beamed at my aunt. Everything would be okay now.
Lukas fished a roll out of the basket. “Mom, I’m getting worried about Uncle Justus.”
“Oh, why is that?” asked Aunt Helen.
We explained our nighttime encounter, bursting into giggles as we did so. Even Aunt Helen couldn’t hold back a smirk, which surprised me, because she always took her quirky brother’s side.
“Now I understand why the dogs just ran through the garden sniffing away so excitedly. They smelled the cat,” Aunt Helen said.
“But she isn’t just some ordinary cat, she’s a Russian Blue!” Lukas shook his head. “Why couldn’t he have gotten some poor cat from the shelter?”
His mother sighed. “You know Uncle Justus. It always has to be something special with him.”
Approaching steps interrupted our conversation.
As if he’d been waiting for his cue, Uncle Justus strutted through the double doors. “Good morning, everyone.”
We muttered a restrained greeting and sneakily observed him adjusting his chair and pouring his coffee. “I just learned from the children that you have acquired another pet. When were you going to introduce me to her?” asked Aunt Helen.
Looking unruffled, Uncle Justus added a drop of cream to his coffee. “If I remember correctly, dearest Sister, you already have a few of my pets on your conscience. You can’t blame me if I want to keep Anastasia away from you.”
I looked at Lukas and Kristina in shock. I had always known Aunt Helen to be a great animal lover. I’d even gotten the impression on occasion that she cared about her animals more than people. But their uncle’s allegation also appeared to be news to Lukas and his sister.
“Your uncle had a great love of exotic pets,” Aunt Helen explained to us. “Once, when he wanted to visit relatives in Ireland, he asked me to feed his goldfish.”
“But they weren’t any ordinary goldfish, they were African jewelfish from Senegal, Hemichromis letourneuxi,” interjected Uncle Justus.
“Unfortunately, I forgot to secure the cover on the aquarium after feeding them one day. My dog at the time, a somewhat overweight beagle . . .”
“An unusually ugly creature,” her brother broke in snidely, “jumped up on the armrest of the sofa and from there into the aquarium.”
Kristina and I l
ooked at each other in shock while Lukas grinned wide.
“The aquarium broke and the water poured out over my mother’s expensive Persian rug,” Aunt Helen said, frowning. “I can still remember the chaos that ensued. My mother was screaming hysterically that her precious Persian rug was ruined, while the dog jumped around delightedly among the fish, which were flopping on the floor gasping for air.”
When the twins and I began laughing, Uncle Justus looked at us gloomily. “And you find it strange that I don’t entrust you with my animals.”
The corner of Aunt Helen’s mouth twitched. “Justus, I have apologized more times than I can count.”
“That won’t bring my jewelfish back to life,” he said soberly. He drained his cup and got up. “If you would please excuse me. I have an important appointment.” The three of us cousins looked at him curiously. “With a cat psychologist, if you must know. He’s going to help me communicate better with Anastasia.”
Speechless, we followed him with our eyes as he left the dining room. “Perhaps, he’s the one who needs to be lying on the couch,” Lukas said before being rebuked by his mother.
We waited with bated breath for Uncle Matthias to get home. I wandered restlessly through the foyer, eventually coming to a stop in front of an old photo that adorned the wall along with countless other pictures.
It showed Lukas, Kristina, and me dressed up for Carnival. We must have been around fifteen at the time and were beaming proudly. Lukas was emulating his idol, Luke Skywalker, as he did every year. He’d flourished his lightsaber so enthusiastically that Kristina and I had to duck. We had ignored Lukas’s request that we dress as Chewbacca and Darth Vader and, instead, had worn the same Princess Leia costumes. Agathe had braided our hair into the appropriate buns and applied the necessary makeup. I had to laugh when I thought about the party we went to that night; all the guests had thought we were sisters because they could hardly tell us apart.
The sound of the front door opening tore me from my thoughts. Uncle Matthias slowly came into the house and looked around. With a shriek, Agathe bolted out of the kitchen and flung her arms around his neck, which was quite unusual for her. Uncle Matthias did his best to calm the utterly hysterical housekeeper.
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