Life After Forty (8 page)

I
snapped the lock shut on my suitcase and took a deep breath. In my hallway were two pilot cases, a box of sample texts, a box of paperwork, and my laptop bag. Everything I needed for the next three months was packed.

Over the last two weeks I’d confirmed my appointments, read manuscripts, compiled client lists, and put together samples folders. There were two trips a year. The first ran from January to April, the second from June to September. On each appointment in a bookshop the next one would be made, and that was how the schedule was arranged. It was my last evening of freedom; the next day would be the first of the new tour. I opened a bottle of red wine, took a glass from the cupboard, and sat down in the kitchen. My day planner lay on the table. I opened it and scanned through the appointments for the week to come.

It was a strange feeling.

I always used to visit the bookshops that were closest to me during the first week, going home each night. After that the stays in hotels began. The clients for next week were the same as I always had in the first week, but it wasn’t a home game anymore. Now I’d have to stay with Marleen. When I’d arranged the appointments in January, I’d had no idea what would happen to me just five weeks later. I closed the day planner and put it in my briefcase. For the first time I’d be spending the night in the place that I’d fled from as fast as I possibly could.

Marleen had come to visit me the weekend before. She’d given me a house key with a bow tied around it. “I’ve renovated the guest room—yellow walls, blue bed, with a TV and a desk for your laptop. So you’ll have your own room, your own bathroom, and now your own key as well. I’m really looking forward to us seeing more of each other. We can spend the evenings on the terrace having an after-work glass of champagne.”

I had suppressed my thoughts of Bernd, Antje, my cats, the house, and neighbors and tried to share Marleen’s enthusiasm. But now, the night before, the thoughts were back. I’d be spending three nights sleeping only ten minutes away from Bernd. It made me feel queasy.

Before the pictures could come to my mind, I stood up, fetched the telephone, and dialed Luise’s number. We’d met up twice since the evening at Cox. By now she’d heard my story too and told me more about herself. There was a time when she used to make me feel intimidated. That time had gone, and she saw me as strong.

“Hi, Christine.” She’d recognized my number on her display.

“Hi, Luise, I just wanted to wish you a great start to the tour.”

“The same to you. Where are you starting?”

I named the places. She laughed.

“That’s great, start off with your old hometown and then it’ll be behind you. Put those fierce trousers on that you wore to Cox and treat it as a victory lap. You left a country bumpkin and you’re coming back as a swan. That’s really something.”

I hadn’t looked at it like that. She really did think I was strong. I wished I was. We made plans to have dinner the following weekend. I hung up the telephone, took my wine glass, and settled out on the balcony with a cigarette. I thought about the image that Luise had of me. Maybe she was right. My life was gradually getting some structure. All you had to do was figure out the beginning, and the rest would follow of its own accord.

I stubbed the cigarette out, looked at the time, went into the lounge, and turned the TV on. Sunday, eight fifteen. I was sure that millions of single women were watching
Law and Order
and painting their toenails. Just as I was. Bright red.

By the time I stopped in front of Marleen’s house the next evening, I had the most demanding day of the tour behind me. It had been difficult to concentrate on the publishing program because the questions about my move to Hamburg came in every bookshop. Each time I gave a brief but friendly answer and tried to see myself through Luise’s eyes. But as soon as I was back in the car to drive to the next appointment, the memories came flooding back. I’d met Antje in that café, that was the theatre I’d taken her children to for a Christmas pantomime, there was the Chinese restaurant where Bernd and I had celebrated buying our house. I drove past my old mechanic’s, the vet’s, the supermarket.

The weight of the memories became heavier and heavier. Somehow though, I made it through the day.

As my car stopped in front of Marleen’s house, I realized how exhausted I was. My tears were ready to fall. I gritted my teeth and climbed out. Before I even had time to open the trunk, Marleen was standing before me with two filled glasses.

“If you drink a glass of champagne after the first day, it will bring you luck for the whole tour. Welcome.”

She passed me a glass, beaming happily.

“It’s wonderful to see you.”

It did me a world of good to be welcomed like this. The tears retreated.

“Thank you, Marleen. It was a strange day, but it can only get better. Cheers.”

As I unpacked my things in the guest room and hung my clothes in the wardrobe, I told her about the first day. Marleen sat on the bed, listened to me, and drank champagne. I pushed the empty travel bag under the bed and sat down next to her.

“These goddamn memories are really getting me down. It really isn’t good to leave a place in shock, you know. It always catches up with you.”

Marleen drank the glass empty and rotated it around in her hand.

“Of course, it’s your first week back. Next time around it’ll be easier. Come on, let’s sit out on the terrace. I’ve made a lasagna and bought two really expensive bottles of red wine.”

We went downstairs. At the bottom she turned around to me.

“By the way, what happened to your elbow and knee?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Be discreet, otherwise I’ll never tell you anything ever again.”

After my first glass of red wine and a big helping of lasagna I felt much better. The terrace was surrounded by rose hedges and flowers, and the sun shone down warmly onto my back. Over dinner I told Marleen about the work gathering, the evening with Luise, and the last two weeks.

“When I think back on how every day was too long in those first weeks, I felt so overwhelmed and was terrified of falling over and only being found three days later. Do you remember? Yet in the last two weeks I’ve had so much to do with preparations for the tour. Nina came by, I went cycling with Eva and Judith, met Leonie to go shopping and then Luise too. All of a sudden it’s working out.”

Marleen poured more wine.

“And it’s not even been half a year yet. Didn’t I tell you?”

She looked up. “Is that a car I can hear?”

I’d heard it too. I recognized the footsteps on the garden path and the whistling. I flinched. Marleen had stood up and was looking around the corner. Her voice was expressionless.

“Hello, Bernd.”

He came around the corner and stood before me. My hands were shaking. He leaned over and kissed me briefly on the cheek, smiling at me.

How familiar his face was.

“Christine, I’ve been trying to get hold of you on the phone for three weeks now, but every time I just get your answering machine. You’re always out and about.”

I stared at him and couldn’t say a word. Marleen’s voice sounded icy.

“Answering machines can record voices, you know. You could have left a message.”

Bernd ignored her. “I’d like to speak to you in private.” This was how he used to look at me.

Marleen cleared her throat. I awoke from my stupor and looked at her, nodding. She raised her shoulders in resignation and piled the plates and leftover lasagna onto a tray with a clatter, saying, “Fine, then I’ll just clean up.” Her body language clearly showed her hostility.

Bernd sat down on the chair opposite me and watched her go, shaking his head.

“Loyalty is all very well and good, but Marleen overdoes it a bit. I mean, she hasn’t even offered me a drink.”

I felt torn.

“She didn’t invite you here, and besides, she knows what it’s been like for me over the last months.”

He looked at me for a while. “Well, you wouldn’t know that things have been tough to look at you. You look good. New clothes?”

I was wearing the black blazer from Bremen. I looked at him again.

“What do you want to talk to me about?”

He pulled his chair nearer to me, took my glass, and drank from it.

“I thought our meeting with Hans-Hermann was dreadful. I felt really bad afterwards. After all, we had a great time together, and then suddenly we’re sitting there like enemies and talking about accounts and money.”

“Well, it wasn’t me that started it all.”

“Christine, I know that. Everything happened so badly; that wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. We were always a good team, and we could still be one too.”

I could feel myself losing the distance from him that had taken so much time and effort to build up.

He took my glass again and carried on talking.

“It’s just seems ridiculous for us to break off contact. We could always meet up when you’re working here, and I’d really love to see your place in Hamburg. But instead of that we’re letting Hans-Hermann dissect our marriage into tiny pieces.”

Our marriage. I looked at my hands. The narrow line that my wedding ring had left behind was nowhere to be seen, thanks to the Sylt sunshine. I thought about Jens.

Then I asked, “And what about Antje?”

“It’s not what you think. It’s just sex, that’s all.”

The distance came back.

“Christine! Don’t look at me so coldly. We have to be able to get past this.”

In need of air, I stood up abruptly. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Marleen was standing in the kitchen, stubbornly polishing glasses. “Who does that rat think he is?”

I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

“Don’t get worked up. I think he’s sorry about how it all happened.”

“Who can believe that? No, either he wants money or he’s up to something else. I wanted to talk to you about him anyway. Don’t try to tell me he’s been feeling bad about it all, you just wait.”

Her rage surprised me. I took the glass and tea towel from her hand and pushed her in the direction of the front door. Before she reached it she turned around; I went back out onto the terrace. Bernd was just about to start talking again when Marleen walked up. Without a word, she put a glass by Bernd and sat down next to him.

He looked at her, confused.

She looked back. “What’s the problem? I live here, you know.”

I tried to figure out what was going on, but I knew there was something I didn’t understand.

“Marleen, we’re having a kind of peace talk. Your divorce was amicable, after all, and you still meet up with Adrian.”

She reached for my cigarettes.

“That’s because of the children, even if they are grown up now. And besides, Adrian wasn’t so dishonest.”

I felt as though she was going too far, and that I should defend Bernd.

He jumped in first. “Marleen, we’ve known each other for over twenty years now. It’s very nice that you’ve helped Christine so much, but you shouldn’t believe everything that people around here are saying about our separation.”

She slammed her glass down on the table. I flinched. Then she turned towards Bernd and looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Okay, I didn’t want to have to bring this up because I find it so unspeakable, but please! I ran into Inge and Frank at the bakery last week. We chatted, and I told Inge that Christine was going to be arriving today.”

I listened to her, but I had no idea what our neighbors could possibly have to do with this. They hadn’t been in touch since I left, even though I’d sent them a card with my new address. Bernd avoided making eye contact with me.

Marleen carried on, looking at me. “Inge reacted very strangely and said that she had no particular desire to see you.”

I was surprised. “But why? I didn’t do anything to them.”

Marleen looked at Bernd with a strange expression, then back at me.

“Inge was shocked that you’d had a lover in Hamburg for the last two years without anyone knowing about it. And then you just picked up and left out of the blue to be with him. Bernd was just lucky that Antje was there to help him through such a difficult time, with the house and the gardening. After all, he couldn’t manage it by himself.”

I was speechless.

Marleen wasn’t done with Bernd yet. “I’m sure Inge just got the wrong end of the stick, so I set her straight. And then I made sure a few other people knew the truth too.”

Bernd looked at her stonily. “Are you done?”

“Yes, and now I feel sick to my stomach. I’m getting myself a brandy.”

She stood up and left us alone.

“Bernd, what the hell have you done?”

“My God, Christine. It really doesn’t matter why we separated, does it? I mean, no one’s really interested. You just took off, and you’re doing fine now, so whatever I do doesn’t really matter to you.”

“What on earth do you mean? How could it not matter?”

“You’ve got a new apartment, and you’re earning good money, while I’ve got the whole house around my neck and on top of that have to pay you fifteen thousand euros. Because Hans-Hermann commanded it.”

“But you’ve kept everything. You wanted the house. You wanted the separation. So why are you two lying to everyone?”

“Oh, don’t be so stubborn. You can’t just forgive, can you? Antje can’t understand it either. This kind of thing happens all the time, and in a year’s time everyone will have forgotten about it. You’re the only one sulking.”

Marleen had heard the last two sentences.

“Bernd, I want you to leave now. And quickly, before I really lose my temper.”

I couldn’t move or say a word.

I watched my husband as he ripped his car keys out of his jacket in a rage and went to his car. The brakes squealed as he sped away.

Marleen handed me a grappa.

“Get that down you.”

I sat down and drank the glass empty. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. “I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”