Sun & Moon - a contemporary romance (The Minstrel Series #1) (25 page)

Katja gave the address and waited. Horst banged on the door, yelling for her mother to open it. Even though she was pretty certain Horst couldn’t knock the door open, his temper frightened her and she curled up on the sofa clutching a cushion to her belly.

Sirens sounded outside. Her phone rang. “Yes, you have the right address,” she said. “His name is Horst Bergmann. He beat my mother this morning. Six months ago, he attacked me. No, I didn’t report it then, but I’m doing it now.”

She heard the scuffle in the hallway as the police detained her drunk and aggressive stepfather. The verbal tirade faded as the officers guided him outside, and Katja watched through the window as Horst was moved into the backseat of the green and white cruiser. The neighbors were all out for the show, and she was glad for the witnesses. Horst hadn’t made himself any friends here.

She stood at the window until the street was cleared and silence returned to the building. Then she slipped into bed with her sister and fell into a deep sleep.

Micah called her several times the next day and left messages.
Call me, please.
Katja ignored them all. He could just go search for another hazel-eyed girl with long honey-blond hair for all she cared.

It wasn’t true. The pain that mercilessly squeezed her heart testified to that. She’d had a chance against a dead girl, but Greta was now very much alive and she couldn’t compete against that. Everything the locked room stood for and all those years Micah spent chasing Greta were a big part of him. Always would be, even if he wouldn’t admit it right now.

Katja woke her mother by gently rubbing her shoulder. “Mama? I’m walking Sibylle to school. When I get back, I’m taking you to the doctor. Get ready while I’m gone, okay?”

Katja held Sibylle’s hand as they walked down the tree-lined street. There were shadows under her eyes that were concerning. Sibylle needed to eat better, and to sleep more. And to let go of the burdens that weren’t meant for her young shoulders.

Katja hated to bring up the dreaded question, but she had to know. “Sibylle, did your daddy ever… hurt you?”

Sibylle shook her head, and Katja let out a short breath of relief.

“He scares me, though. I’m glad you locked him out.”

Katja squeezed her hand. “He scares me, too.”

A block from the school, Sibylle gently tugged her hand free. Katja spotted other kids walking, and smiled. Sibylle didn’t want to be seen holding her big sister’s hand. She understood.

She stopped and said, “I think you can make it from here.”

“I’ve been making the whole distance by myself all these years, Katja.”

“I know. I just like walking with you.” And until she was sure Horst wasn’t a danger, she’d keep walking her. “I’ll see you after school, okay?”

The late autumn morning chill was lifting, and Katja welcomed the warmth of the sun’s rays poking through the remnants of the clouds from yesterday’s storm. When she reached her building, she heard someone call her name. She recognized the voice and had wondered how long it would be until she ran into him.

“Hi, Niklas,” she said, forcing a small smile. Niklas Reinhardt hadn’t changed much. Still thin with a scruffy beard on his chin. He wore work overalls and had grease marks on his arms and hands. A cigarette with a long ash hung out the side of his mouth.

“I heard you were back,” he said. He tossed his cigarette and ground it with his boot. “Pulled a good one on your old man.”

“Nice to see you, too.” She tugged on the door to her building.

“Hey, wait, Katja. We should go out sometime. Like old times.” Niklas leaned against his van and flicked his hair back. He smiled crookedly. “Hey?”

Katja couldn’t believe she spent two years of her life hanging onto this guy. That she actually let him touch her. She cringed inwardly. “I don’t think so.”

Niklas huffed and opened his van door. “You go away for six months, and you’re a hot shot now?”

“Too hot for you.” She went inside and headed upstairs with the sound of Niklas’s van roaring to life behind her. She took a deep breath, readying herself for her next task. Surprisingly, her mother was actually ready, dressed in a clean blouse and skirt. The swelling in her face had receded a little, but her skin remained a deep purple.

Katja smiled. “You look good.” At least, as good as someone who got beat up the day before could look. “Before we go to the doctor we have to go to the police station. I know you don’t want to…”

“I do, Katja.” She blinked back tears. “I heard him last night, pounding at the door. I was so afraid he’d get in and kill us all. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let anything else bad happen to you girls.”

Katja took her mother by the arm. “Good. We’ll do this together.”

They spent much of the morning filling out paperwork. An officer took several pictures of Gisela’s face to document the injuries. She looked so vulnerable, standing there, unsmiling as the camera flashed. Katja’s heart ached for her mother, sad for her hard life. They were doing the right thing by pressing charges. Things would get better for her family if they stayed strong, she was sure of it.

“We’re going to the doctor next,” Katja informed the clerk. “I’ll have the physician forward her report.”

Horst was in jail, and though Katja didn’t know how long he’d be detained, they now had a restraining order. Horst wasn’t allowed in the building where they lived or anywhere on that block. Katja was determined to make a point of letting all her neighbors know and to get them to promise her they’d call the police if they ever saw him again.

They weren’t completely safe, but they were safer.

They stopped at a small market to pick up a few groceries: buns, shaved meat and a block of cheese, a cucumber and a tomato, and they returned to their flat for a light lunch. Gisela was quiet, clearly drained from the morning excursion. Katja’s mind kept drifting to Micah despite her efforts to forget about him. She checked her phone and saw he’d called again and left three more text messages. Katja swallowed hard. A part of her wanted to call him back, but their breakup was for the best. She was needed here now. She erased all his messages.

After lunch, Gisela lay down, and Katja decided she had enough time to visit a legal service agency before picking up Sibylle from school.

It was a no-nonsense office on the bottom floor of an old three-story building. Katja told the receptionist why she was there and was in turn told to take a seat. There was a stack of magazines on the end table, but she didn’t feel like reading. She checked her phone and stared at the two new messages since lunch. Eventually, he’d give up. He had to see that this was the best thing in the long run. For both of them.

Certainly his mother must be ecstatic. Micah had said she hadn’t liked Greta either, but that was where the similarities ended, at least the ones that mattered to people like Frau Sturm. Greta came from a good home. Her family, though not as well off as the Sturms, had money. If Frau Sturm hadn’t liked Greta before, she’d probably had a change of heart since meeting Katja.

“Frau Stoltz?”

The lawyer was shorter than Katja, with short grey hair, a soft belly and a friendly smile. She held out her hand. “I’m Frau Fullermann.”

Katja followed Frau Fullermann into her office and sat in the chair opposite the plain, tidy desk. “How can I assist you?” she asked.

Katja relayed her family’s situation. “I’m concerned about my sister. I wouldn’t want her taken from us because of all of this.”

“Horst Bergmann is her biological father?”

“Yes.”

“I suspect your sister will be assigned a social worker shortly. If you can prove that you and your mother have the financial means to support her, and that her dwelling place is acceptable and safe, then the social worker will most likely recommend that she remain where she is. Her father may demand to visit her, but we can put in a formal request that visitations occur away from the family home, and in a secure place with the accompaniment of the social worker.”

Katja felt sure that with the apartment cleaned up, the dwelling requirements would be met. But finances were another thing. The main reason her mother had put up with Horst all these years was because he’d had a steady job. Now that he was unemployed, that money wasn’t coming in anyway. Katja pursed her lips. She had to get a job and quick.

“Thank you, Frau Fullermann. You’ve given me the information I need.”

“Don’t hesitate to contact me again should you need my services regarding this matter.”

“I will.”

Her mind raced as she began her trek to Sibylle’s school. The only job experience she had where she could hope for a good reference was from the café in Dresden. It was time to call Renata anyway. She needed to explain her situation and apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

Katja arrived at Sibylle’s school just as it was letting out.“How was your day?” she asked when her sister appeared.

Sibylle’s lips tugged down. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Katja said as they began the trek back. “Did something happen?”

Sibylle’s upper lip quivered, but she remained quiet.

“Sibylle, you can tell me. Were the kids talking about… us?”

She nodded. “They heard about Papa getting hauled away by the police. They weren’t too kind about it.”

Katja squeezed her shoulders. “Just ignore them. Tomorrow there’ll be more exciting bad news for them to gossip about. The thing you have to remember is that you’re not your papa. You’re you. You make your own choices in life about how you’re going to live it. You can’t let other people dictate that for you.”

Sibylle tilted her head, looking up at Katja’s face.“Is that why you came back?”

Katja blinked. “Yes. It was.”

She unlocked the door to their flat when they arrived but didn’t go in with Sibylle. “I’m going to see Henni,” she said. “Lock the door, okay?”

Katja continued up the stairwell to the next floor and tapped on the door of the flat directly above hers. Her stomach swooshed with a new round of nerves. She hadn’t seen her friend since she’d left for Dresden months ago, hadn’t called or sent any kind of message.

Henni answered the door. She was petite with short, dark hair that had a streak of blue Katja hadn’t seen before. She considered Katja coolly.“I heard you were back.”

“I’m sorry.” Katja nervously clasped her hands near her stomach. “I should’ve come to visit earlier. A lot’s been happening.”

Henni waved her inside. “I heard about Horst.”

Who hadn’t? When you lived in a complex like this one, everyone knew everybody else’s business. Bad news sprouted wings, flew along the halls, down the streets to the shops, and through the schools, apparently.

Henni’s apartment was laid out exactly the same as Katja’s. All the flats were the same, only some were inverted from the others. She took in the familiar room with the same old furniture and wall décor it’d had for the last twenty years Katja had known Henni’s family. The lack of change both perturbed her and comforted her.

“How are you?” Katja asked as she took a seat on the sofa. Henni’s teenage brother entered the room, nodded to Katja and turned on the TV.

“Let’s go to my room to talk,” Henni said.

Henni sat against her large, purple pillow near the wall, and grabbed a tattered stuffed bear that had made a home there since as long as Katja could remember. She lay across the foot of the bed and stared up at the string of little white lights Henni had hung over the window.

She pushed out the words she knew she had to say.“I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”

Henni twitched and held the bear tighter. “Yeah, about that.”

Katja leaned up on one elbow, facing her friend. “It had to do with Horst.”

Henni diverted her eyes. Katja was certain that her memory of finding Horst pinning her down with Katja fighting beneath him was as clear as if she’d witnessed it yesterday.

“And my mother,” Katja continued. “She was so out of it with those pills and wouldn’t help me. I mean, I thought she wouldn’t. Now I know she couldn’t help. She wasn’t emotionally strong enough.” Katja sighed sadly. “It was a spontaneous decision on my part. I thought if I just left, I’d be one less problem for my mother to worry about, and I would be safe from any more unwanted attention from Horst. I didn’t mean to leave without telling you. I was in distress, and once I was gone… well it felt too late to look back.”