by Dora Heldt
“We have a vacation home in Kampen and come here a lot. My wife grew up on the island. We live in Hamburg, so it’s only a stone’s throw away. And the children use the apartment too. They’re already coming here with their own children.”
“No, really? I would never have thought that you already have grandchildren. You still look so young. Your wife isn’t with you?”
He leaned over, making Inge duck again, and rapped his knuckles against the windowpane. A gray-haired, slim woman in a white bathrobe turned around. She looked familiar to Inge somehow.
“That’s my wife,” said the man proudly as he leaned back again. “I’m sure she’ll come in soon to say hello.”
“Ah, right.” Renate’s tone was immediately ten degrees cooler. “Then I guess we should make some room. Inge, let me sit next to you down there. It’s so hot up here.”
While she made a huge fuss of moving, the door opened again.
“Hello. Why did you knock?” The woman had swapped her white bathrobe for a gray sauna towel. She sat down next to her husband.
“I was just talking to the ladies and mentioned that you grew up on Sylt.”
“So did my friend here.” Renate sounded annoyed. Maybe the heat was too much for her. Inge turned around and gave the couple a friendly nod.
“Inge? Inge Müller?”
“Yes? Er, sorry, I…” The lighting wasn’t very good. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know…”
“Anke. Anke Peterson, now Anke Meisner. Then it was you yesterday! I saw you in Westerland, coming out of Kampmann’s office. I was wondering if it was really you, but before I could call out, you had already turned the corner. How good to see you! So, how are you?”
“Anke. I can’t believe it’s you! Your hair’s short. And you’re so slim, I didn’t even recognize you. We haven’t seen each other in at least fifteen years!”
Renate threw a quick side glance at Anke and then stared intently at the hourglass. Inge was delighted. She and Anke used to go to dance school together. They had been friends until they were twenty and left the island. After that their contact had been sporadic. Her husband gave Inge a friendly nod and then asked, “Who’s Kampmann?”
“The lawyer in Boysenstrasse. How long are you here for, Inge?”
“What? A lawyer?” hissed Renate at Inge, but she ignored her.
“I’m not sure yet. I’m staying in Kampen, with Hanne’s daughter.”
“With Petra? Oh, that’s great. Then we can meet up for dinner. And with your husband too? Or is he not here?”
“Ha!” Renate snorted and stood up. “I’ve had enough sweating for now. I’m going out. Enjoy.”
She slammed the door behind her, hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, and ran off toward the sea at full speed. Mesmerized, the three of them watched her somewhat clumsy one-woman-race through the soft sand.
Johann was enchanted. After their arrival at the beach sauna, he and Christine had immediately gone for a steam session, then walked down to the beach, and jumped right into the waves. The water was still cold, not much more than sixty degrees, which took some determination after being in the hot sauna, but it felt sensational. After that, they had walked along the beach in the sunshine in their bathing suits, the waves lapping against their feet. After half an hour, they turned around and went back. Just before the path up to the sauna, Johann sank down to sit in the sand among clumps of sage-colored dune grass.
“I’d love to stay right where we are. Do you want to go back up and have a drink, or can we relax here for a bit?”
“Whatever you prefer.” Christine sat down next to him. “We’ve got the whole day. Let’s stay here for a while then.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Christine dug her toes into the white sand and then out again, while Johann drew circles in it with his fingers.
“Have you—?”
“Shall we—?”
“You first.” He turned onto his side and stroked a blade of dune grass across her hip. “Mine wasn’t anything important.”
“Shall we go to Keitum this evening? I’ll show you around, and then we can go out for a seafood dinner?”
“Sounds good. But you don’t have to come up with an itinerary for me every day, you know. I’m just enjoying the fact that we have two weeks together for once, and I’m not going to get bored of that. Are you?”
Christine shook her head. “No, of course not. It’s just that I’d prefer to go to dinner with just you this evening than risk having to go out with my parents and Inge. That’s all.”
Johann rolled onto his back. “Well, you’ve sold me on that one. Are there any updates on the Inge front, by the way?”
“No.” Christine pulled her feet out of the sand. “I think everything’s settling down now. Shall we go have a coffee with Gudrun?”
Johann was just standing up and wiping the sand from his legs when he suddenly froze and looked over at the dune path in disbelief. Christine turned to see what he was looking at. A woman with fiery red hair, wrapped up in a red towel, which she was clasping tightly around her with one hand, was running toward the sea in zigzag lines. Her whole body was rippling, and a series of short, sharp screams could be heard. She waved her free arm in the air, her steps becoming slower and heavier in the soft sand until she was finally by the water’s edge. She let the towel fall, stretched both arms out to the sky, threw her head back to utter one last cry, and plunged into the waves like a hippo after a long, arduous chase through the grasslands. Johann turned to look at Christine. “Wow!”
Speechless, she didn’t reply. They both turned to stare at the bobbing “hippo,” looked at each other, laughed, then set off back toward the beach sauna café.
“Could you please order me a coffee and a slice of hazelnut cake?” Christine asked Johann. “I’m just going to the bathroom quickly.”
“Sure.”
Johann went over to Gudrun to order the coffees, then fetched their bathrobes from the changing room. A few minutes later, they sat next to each other on a bench in front of one of the little huts, leaning against the warm wooden wall and raising their faces to the sun. Gudrun brought their order and perched next to Christine briefly.
“So, how are you?”
“Good. Work’s a bit stressful, but otherwise everything’s very good. And you?”
Gudrun shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, you know, very busy as always. But that’s a good thing, so I can’t complain. And we’ve got a lot of new guests who’re here for the first time, which is great. Speaking of which…” She leaned forward and smiled at Johann. “You’re new too.”
He nodded. “I’ve never been to a beach sauna before. It’s a wonderful invention.”
Gudrun suddenly looked up and stared off into the distance, bemused. “What in God’s name is she doing?”
On the narrow wooden path leading from the dunes to the beach, the red-haired Valkyrie was standing on one leg, her back to them, and stretching her body toward the sky.
“I think that’s the sun salutation,” said Christine, lifting her head lethargically. “It’s certainly sunny enough for it.”
“Well, at least she’s not screaming this time,” said Johann.
“But why doesn’t she do it down on the beach?” Frowning, Gudrun stood up. “She’s blocking the path. And why would she be screaming?”
“She was earlier,” answered Johann. “When she was conquering the seas.”
“Well, whatever amuses her, I guess. But she could still go down to the beach if she wants to do that. Look, some people are just on their way up.”
A small traffic jam was building up; no one could get past the woman. Christine had forgotten her sunglasses. She shielded her eyes with one hand to see better, but the reflection of the sun made it difficult and she lost interest. Christine leaned her head back against the wall, but she gave a start when she recognized her aunt’s voice.
“Come on, Renate. You’re getting in the way there.”
; Half an hour later, Christine sat with a tormented expression next to Johann, who was flanked on the other side by Renate. Inge had sat down with them, along with Anke and her husband, Reiner. Renate was talking. Incessantly. About the health benefits of the sun and sea, about salty air, and, mostly, about herself. Johann had moved so close to Christine that her leg was already going to sleep from the pressure. It didn’t seem to bother Renate though. She simply moved over closer to him. Christine was pretty sure that she’d end up falling off the bench soon, and she was equally sure that Renate wouldn’t notice if she did.
“So as I said, I came here with my ex-husband once. He didn’t give one hoot about nature—he just wanted to show off his new Porsche, eat oysters, and see celebrities. And be seen himself, too, of course. God, it was annoying, but that’s men for you. We’re really better off without them. I’ve been there and done that.”
Without looking at the awkward expressions of Anke, Reiner, and Inge, she turned to Johann and put her ring-covered hand on his bare knee. Johann scooted even closer toward Christine, all the while staring in horror at Renate’s bright red nails. Christine lost her balance and tipped over the edge, just managing to stop herself from falling completely by balancing one hand on the floor. She grasped hold of the table with the other and didn’t dare move.
“But don’t you live with Inge’s niece, right? With Christina?” Renate gave Johann’s knee a squeeze.
Christine groaned.
“Why are you hanging off the end of the table like that?” asked Inge, before turning to Renate. “Her name is Christine, by the way, not Christina. Sweetheart, come sit over here if you have so little room there.”
As expected, Renate paid no attention to Christine’s predicament. If she let go of the table now, she would fall off the bench entirely. And Johann was too busy letting Renate rail about men to help her. Christine groaned again, louder this time. Still no reaction.
“I wouldn’t bother,” continued Renate, oblivious. “This cohabitation nonsense is pure poison. As I always say, men and women aren’t meant to be together. Unfortunately, some people only realize that too late, once they’ve already wasted forty years. And then they suddenly lose their head and run off to see a lawyer without talking it through calmly with their girlfriends first. Girlfriends who have experience in…”
Inge was beginning to realize what a contradictory creature her new friend was. She claimed to not need men in her life, but from what Inge could see, she devoted most of her time to collaring any male she could find through her obvious and ostentatious flirting. What a woman!
“Johann!” Christine could still balance and talk at the same time, but she couldn’t hold out for long.
He gave a start. “What on earth are you doing, Christine?”
She finally lost her grip and fell off completely. Renate shook her head disapprovingly. Aunt Inge looked tense.
It was only once they were back in the car that Johann’s self-discipline crumbled. Christine hadn’t even belted herself in before he got into a laughing jag. It started with a gentle chuckle, turned into a foolish grin, and once Christine asked him what was so amusing, he collapsed into such a fit of laughter that she turned the engine off again.
After ten minutes, he began to calm down, looking at her with his eyes streaming.
“Heavens, I didn’t think I’d get away from her alive. Did you hear her ask for some…broth?” He was off again.
After her third trip to the sauna, Renate had asked Gudrun for broth. Not water, not apple juice, not white or red wine or beer. No, the woman had asked for broth. Chicken broth, because of the salt loss in the sauna. Gudrun had just stared at her until Renate had sat back down with the words, “Very basic here indeed. She doesn’t even know what broth is.” Gudrun had just continued staring.
After that, Renate had pounced on Johann, demanding his full attention as she had regaled him with stories about her ex-husband. Christine was slowly starting to regret the fact that Aunt Inge’s new friend didn’t have anything in common with the gaunt Cayenne woman after all. At least that woman hadn’t talked much. And she had barely even touched her food. The complete opposite of Renate.
Johann took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes with a handkerchief. “She sure is a handful. Werner—or, as she called him, ‘Werner the Pig’—must wake up every day thanking God that he managed to get away alive.”
“Why? What did she tell you?”
He groaned, anguished. “Oh, everything…about her marriage, her finances, her friendship with Inge, and how she’s finally made her wake up and smell the coffee. Absolutely everything. After all, you snuck off to the sauna with your aunt and left me at the woman’s mercy.”
After Renate’s third piece of cake, Christine had asked Inge if she wanted to go for another steam with her, and her aunt had seemed relieved to get away. Inside, they had sat next to one another and watched Renate’s wild gesticulations through the window.
“Christine, the thing is, Renate’s having a tough time at the moment. She’s really very nice. We got on so well in Bad Oeynhausen. And she’s very generous too. She had that red hat made for me especially.”
“With the money from Werner the Pig, as she mentioned several times.”
Inge looked at her sternly. “Christine, you shouldn’t say things like that. He really didn’t exactly behave all that wonderfully.”
“According to Renate. Anyway, never mind. So why did you go to see a lawyer?”
“Oh.” Inge flinched at the question. “It was just a little query I had. For…um…Anika and Till. I wanted to help them out with something.”
“Why, what…?”
At that moment, two women came into the sauna, nodded in greeting, and sat down. Inge whispered to Christine, “Never mind. I never like it when people talk in the sauna anyway.”
Unfortunately, Christine hadn’t been able to get any more information out of her aunt. Renate dominated the rest of the day; Johann hadn’t put up a fight against her tirades; Gudrun was speechless after the broth comment; and Aunt Inge was still brooding over her secrets. What had started out so promising turned out to be one of Christine’s worst visits to the beach sauna.
Chapter 17
* * *
Inge threw her bag on the bed and sat down next to it. What was Renate thinking? Okay, they had become friends, but that didn’t mean she could just say whatever she wanted. Inge wasn’t some clueless country snail, crawling out from under a stone for the first time in forty years. And besides, Renate didn’t even know Walter.
“If you know one, you know them all,” she had said. “You did right in getting the lawyer on his back right away. You should bleed him completely dry. But you should have told me. I would have made you an appointment with Dr. Karla Wagner. She’s really on the ball and hates men so much she practically bankrupts them. She used to be married to an architect, and when she came home from a court hearing early one day, there he was…”
Another one of those awful stories of marital deception that Renate so loved telling. Inge couldn’t bear to listen to them anymore. Then she had started sounding off about Christine. “She has this goofy look about her when she’s around Johann. She’s smitten. But he clearly isn’t the faithful type. Did you see how he was staring at me? I’d only need to snap my fingers.”
Inge had been incensed. “Renate, please, Christine’s boyfriend is at least ten years younger than you! And I can see how in love with my niece he is. It’s really touching.”
“Ha!” Renate had fumbled around trying to find the right gear. “Well, aren’t you the little domestic hen. You’re only saying that because she’s your niece. She’s in her late forties at the very least.”
“Mid.”
“What?”
“She’s only in her midforties. And you were…Oh, never mind!” Inge had managed to swallow her harsh retort. “Let’s have fun.” She wasn’t in the mood to argue with Renate about such silly things. She had far
more important things on her mind. Like her little trip to the mainland with Mark tomorrow.
“Oh, good, I was starting to think you were going strange on me. It’s just a pity that Horst and Peter weren’t free to join us today. Maybe some important business came up. Never mind, they’ll be in touch—we had so much fun yesterday…”
Inge had neglected to ask for details, which had clearly disappointed her friend. But then Renate had moved on to a new topic.
“So tell me about the lawyer. Have you filed for divorce?”
“No.” Inge realized with relief that they were approaching the driveway of Petra’s house. “I haven’t.”
“Haven’t yet, you mean,” corrected Renate. “That’s fine. I had a preliminary discussion first too. Shall we go for dinner?”
Inge then laid her hand on Renate’s arm. “No, Renate, I’m beat. I’m just going to watch some TV and then go to bed. Don’t be annoyed, and thank you very much for the lift.”
She made the effort to appear friendly and opened the door.
“You can’t be serious!” Renate had been bewildered. “It’s not even seven yet.”
“I am.” Inge already had one leg out of the car. “Good night.”
“Your family really is dragging you down. You’re mutating back into a boring old housewife.”
“You’re wrong.” Inge had maintained a cordial tone. “Very wrong, in fact. It’s just that I have to get up early tomorrow to go the mainland. We’ll go for a nice meal tomorrow evening, and I’ll tell you my news then.” Maybe, she had added in her mind, realizing that they were very close to an argument which would most likely end their friendship. But Renate clapped her hands and beamed at Inge.
“You’re really building the suspense! Okay, then. Good luck and break a leg, or whatever it is people say. Call me as soon as you get back. ’Bye!”
When Inge watched the Porsche drive away, she thought, No, I have certainly never met another woman like Renate.
