Tidal Shift

by Dora Heldt

  Renate couldn’t interpret Charlotte’s response, which was silence. But it didn’t matter. She finished applying her lipstick and pressed her lips together firmly. After a contented look in the mirror, she opened the door with a flourish, knocking Charlotte in the hip, turned elegantly toward the men, and called out cheerfully, “You’re back! Then we can start the barbecue at last. I just hope that we have enough for everyone. I had no idea that there would be so many other women turning up.”

  “Hello!” Christine’s voice interrupted the conversation in the hallway. “We’re back!” She came in through the front door, followed by Johann and a very cheerful looking Inge. “What’s going on here?”

  Inge looked around at all of them, like she was going to burst with happiness. “I have news…Oh, do I have news! Oh, hello, Renate. How terrific that you’re here too. Johann, did you get the champagne from the car? And are Anika and Jörn here yet?”

  At that moment, a red VW Beetle pulled up in front of the house. Inge popped out of the front door, waved, and turned back around to the others.

  “There they are. Heinz, fetch some glasses—we need to celebrate. Where’s my daughter, by the way? Charlotte, you look rooted to the spot. Come on, let’s go into the backyard.”

  Chapter 38

  * * *

  It took a good half hour before they were all seated around two wrought iron tables and everyone had something to drink. Inge waited until everyone was settled, then sat up straight, and cleared her throat.

  “I don’t really know where to start,” she said, blushing a little with excitement. “So much has happened.”

  “Start at the beginning,” suggested Heinz, crossing his legs casually. “I’m sure it can’t be that dramatic. I mean, not in comparison to what happened to us today.” He gave Kalli and Walter a triumphant look and jiggled his foot around excitedly. “We…”

  “Let Inge speak first,” interrupted Johann in a firm voice. “It all started with a letter that she received a few weeks ago. From Anna Nissen.”

  Heinz frowned. “That’s not possible. She died at the end of March.”

  “Dad.” Christine gave him an impatient look. “Just listen, will you?”

  “It was her will,” Inge blurted out. “She left her house to me. In Wenningstedt. She wasn’t renting an apartment there as we thought. It turns out the whole house belonged to her, including the other three apartments.”

  “Seriously? We’ll be able to make a great deal out of that!” Walter looked up, electrified. “How big is the property? What’s the square footage?”

  Inge laid a hand on his arm. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you about this before. I wanted some time to think things over. About whether I wanted to sell it or rent it, or maybe even move in. Then I met Anika and Till, who were looking for an apartment, and it gave me a wonderful idea…”

  Once she had finished talking, Inge looked at Walter.

  “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

  Walter blew out his cheeks and tilted his head to the side. “Just let me get this straight. You’ve inherited a house. A big house. With four apartments and a good amount of land around it that would make an excellent profit if you sell it. You were attacked because some crook was looking for the will. They tried to take the inheritance away from you. And now you want to move in there with people of your own choosing. Is that correct so far?”

  “Yes.” Inge nodded. “That’s exactly it.”

  He looked at her in confusion. “So Kampmann isn’t your admirer? And you didn’t go to a divorce lawyer?”

  “No!”

  Walter scratched his head and turned around to Heinz and Kalli. “So I didn’t need to knock him out after all?”

  “Not really, but it helped.” No one had noticed that Martensen had come into the yard and was now standing behind them. “Good evening. The back gate was open, and I heard voices. May I join you?” He looked at Inge, who pointed at the empty seat next to her. “Thank you. Right then…Getting back to Kampmann. I’m certainly not condoning marching into his house and knocking him out. But we had been looking for him for three days, so let’s just say I’m very glad you tracked him down. He was wanted for alleged falsification of records, fraud, and several other charges. He’s now been arrested for questioning, along with Guido Schneider. It seems they’ve made a lot of money over the years from blank powers of attorney, faked signatures, and dodgy contracts. It’s very lucky that Anna Nissen followed her gut instincts and engaged the services of Peter Sorensen. And that he got in touch with us. Nevertheless, it’s possible, Herr Müller, that you may be charged with trespassing and bodily harm. Kampmann’s partner Marion Fischer is pretty mad about what you did.”

  “I held his legs up for him,” said Kalli, trying to defend their actions. “And Walter put a wet washcloth on his forehead. That can hardly be classed as bodily harm.”

  “It’s fine. I have legal insurance,” said Walter, waving his hand dismissively. “But listen, Inge,” he said to his wife with a frown. “We’re going to have to pay a pretty hefty sum in inheritance tax, you know. The government is really—”

  “Just a minute!” Pia piped up energetically. “I’m still confused. Mom, you inherited a house that’s worth a lot of money. You didn’t say a single word to my father and me, but instead rented a vacation apartment on Sylt, thought everything through in secret, about what you want to do with the property, and so on. You met up with dodgy lawyers, let everyone think you wanted to leave my father, and now you tell us you want to move to Sylt and start a multigenerational house. Is this for real?”

  Before Inge could say a word, Charlotte added her two cents. “And what about the visits to all the doctors? Was it all too much stress? Were you not feeling well?”

  Pia spluttered. “Doctors’ visits? Mom! Do you never think about us?”

  Kalli gave Walter a prod in the side. “Did you know your wife was ill?”

  “I’m not!” Inge was losing patience. “Pia, I do think of the two of you. And Kalli, I’m not ill. When I was thinking about what I wanted to do with the house, I realized just how homesick I’d become for Sylt after forty years in Dortmund. Our neighbors are getting more and more stuck in their ways, my two best friends have moved away, we have no grandchildren to keep us occupied, and Walter is making up new illnesses every day out of sheer boredom. We have too much time on our hands, and we’re only getting older. But we still have a good few years in front of us, and I want to enjoy them. Now I have this house, and I thought to myself that it would be lovely to come back. I can even choose my own neighbors. I was thinking that Walter and I could live downstairs, with Anika and Till in the apartment next to us. Then we would have a child in the house again after all these years. But because Walter is always complaining of some ailment or another, we would be sure to need a new doctor. I checked out a few and wasn’t impressed by any of them. Until the break-in, that is. Then I met Dr. Keller. He’s a lovely man, has a charming girlfriend, who’s a chef by the way, and he commutes to the island because they haven’t managed to find an apartment here. The two of them are very keen to move into one of the apartments. And the last one will be a vacation apartment, in case Pia wants to visit us, or you, Renate, or Kalli. I’m sorry, Herr Martensen, but you were just a little too late.”

  Martensen looked disappointed.

  Pia looked at her mother thoughtfully. “And you think that Dad is going to rent our house in Dortmund just like that and move to the island with you? What’s he supposed to do here the whole day?”

  “Pia!” Walter banged his hand on the arm of the chair indignantly. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you really think I’m so old and fossilized that I can’t handle moving?”

  Everyone jumped, including Inge, and stared at Walter with concern. He took a deep breath. “Inge isn’t the only one who needs a change. In the few days I’ve been here on Sylt, well…I’ve really enjoyed getting out of my old Dortmund routine. Why, I built sand
castles with a delightful boy,” he said as he looked at Till. “I had some madcap adventures with my brother-in-law and Kalli, though I might have drank too much of the…What’s it called? Bullenschluck. And I saw what spirit and drive my own wife of forty-five years still has! So now it’s my turn for surprises. We’ll sell the house in Dortmund. The roof needs to be redone next year anyway, and the upstairs windows too. I can’t be bothered with all that, and besides, we’ll need money for the inheritance tax and the renovations. There’s a lot to do, right, Inge? I also want to get satellite TV here. By the way, Anika, who does the taxes for the pub you work in?” He opened his arms wide and motioned to Inge.

  Inge stood up and walked straight into his embrace, ruffling Walter’s hair as he looked embarrassed but utterly content.

  Chapter 39

  * * *

  Christine rolled languorously onto her back and buried her toes in the sand.

  “This is absolutely awesome.” She sighed. “And we still have another three whole days to go. Johann, I’m feeling really happy.”

  He rubbed sun lotion onto her stomach. “Me too. Even though I’m slowly burning because you never help me put on any lotion.”

  She sat up abruptly. “Give me the bottle and hold still.”

  As she tenderly rubbed it onto his back, her gaze wandered over the beach. They were high up, protected from the wind by the dunes. There were only a few walkers around, and everything was peaceful and blissfully quiet.

  “Summer is on its way,” she said. “I’m sure the deck chairs will all be laid out soon. By the way, how did this morning go?”

  Johann slowly sat up and grinned. “Walter really seems to have made himself the boss of the project. He marched through the apartments with a businesslike look on his face, giving Jörn instructions. His favorite comment was, ‘We don’t want to do things by halves here. Everything needs to look just right.’ Inge didn’t say anything, she just kept nodding cheerfully. By the way, Jörn now officially has the contract for the renovations, together with Anika. Inge insisted on that.”

  “And she’s up to the job?” Christine looked at him questioningly.

  “Of course. She just didn’t do the final exam, that’s all. Jörn and Inge have convinced her to finish off her studies, and Inge and Walter are going to look after Till while she does. It’s all planned out.”

  “And what’s the conversion going to be like?”

  “The doctor, Dieter Keller, and his girlfriend are moving in upstairs, so he was there briefly this morning too. He’s paying for the conversion of his apartment himself, following Walter’s suggestion. This way he can have everything the way he wants it, and he’ll get a long-term rental contract in return. He agreed, of course. And Walter’s going to do his taxes for him too.”

  “Why am I not surprised?!” Christine laughed. “So what did Walter want you there for?”

  “To help with the calculations. Conversion costs, credit opportunities, the whole lot. I’m pretty good at that kind of thing. So how are things with your parents?”

  “The same as always,” said Christine with a serious expression. “Heinz is starting to get hold of some quotes for the renovations. He was going on about how Walter doesn’t have many contacts on the island and saying that Inge isn’t good with money. So he thinks it’s best if he takes care of everything. I’d imagine Jörn can advise on all that, but you know what my dad is like. And he’s very pleased that Inge is moving back to Sylt. He says this place is the new Saint-Tropez.”

  Johann raised his eyebrows. “Oh really?”

  Christine nodded. “That’s what he said. Oh, and then Renate dropped by with a bouquet of flowers for my mother to apologize for leaving the kitchen in a mess and coming on so strong. She said she wouldn’t stay long, just for a quick glass of champagne. So they had some together, out in the backyard. Probably to cover up what an ass she had made out of herself, Renate said she always knew Inge and Walter were meant for each other, even though he still needs to make a few changes. But she’s sure Inge will make sure he does. And if not, Renate is still there, after all, to prod them! She said she’d be coming to the island a lot now, seeing as it will be so easy with the vacation apartment and everything. She was still in my parents’ backyard, by the way, when Björne Larson came by. He wanted to find out whether what he’d been reading in the newspapers was true. My father was more than happy to tell the whole story again, of course, and in this recounting Kampmann even had a weapon. Renate was enraptured by the whole story and Björne’s role in setting it all in motion. And visibly impressed when she found out that Björne had been a widower for the last four years.”

  “So how long is she staying?”

  Christine shrugged. “She said it depends, and gave Björne a flirtatious smile as she said it. Oh, yes, and Kalli is coming back next weekend—with his wife this time. That’ll give Charlotte and Inge a little distraction while he, Heinz, and Walter plan the conversion together.”

  “I’m sure that will go swimmingly. Luckily we’ll be gone by then.”

  “Yes.” Christine noticed a small drop of sun lotion on his shoulder and rubbed it in gently. “By the way, have you already made an appointment to view the apartment in Hamburg?”

  Johann nodded. “For next Wednesday. Why?”

  “What’s going to happen with all our furniture? Two sofas, two beds, two washing machines, twelve chairs…” She was still stroking his back. “What are we going to do with everything?”

  He reached back and grasped her hand. “I’ve already started to explore some solutions for that. Inge really doesn’t like the furniture in the vacation apartment, and Walter thought they were drab as well. I told them that we’re moving in together soon and have furniture to spare. Inge would like your red sofa, your kitchen sideboard, and the chairs. I said I’d ask you.”

  Christine looked at him in horror. “My red sofa? No way! She can have your blue one. I’m fine for her to have the cabinet, yours are nicer anyway, and the chairs…”

  The roar of a car engine broke the silence. Christine and Johann looked up. A tractor loaded up with deck chairs was driving along the water’s edge, driven by a man in a watch cap. A woman sat next to him, her flame-red hair illuminated in the sunlight, and her colorful, flared skirt was flapping in the breeze. The tractor stopped after a few yards, then the man climbed down and went around to the loading bay. The woman jumped down after him, barefoot, and struggled awkwardly to help him with unloading some of the chairs. In the end, the man gently pushed her to the side and flung the chairs over his shoulder. Renate’s wild mane of locks rippled in the wind. And Björne Larson’s craggy face broke into a wide grin.

  Acknowledgments

  * * *

  Thank you!

  I would like to thank:

  Rainer and Rudi Schmidt for all their help,

  Joachim Jessen for all the encouragement,

  Elke Moebus and the team at the List beach sauna for helping me relax,

  Silvia Schmid for all her hard work,

  And everyone else for their patience with me.

  Dora Heldt

  About the Author

  * * *

  Photograph © Regina Geisler

  Dora Heldt was born in 1961 on the North Sea island of Sylt. She was trained as a bookseller and has worked in publishing since 1992. Tidal Shift was one of Germany’s best-selling titles of 2010, where it spent fifty-seven weeks on the hardcover best-seller list and thirty-one weeks on the paperback list. Heldt is also the author of Life After Forty, Inseparable, and Chaperoned, and her books have sold more than two and a half million copies in Germany. She lives in Hamburg.

  About the Translator

  * * *

  Photo courtesy of Jamie Lee Searle

  Jamie Lee Searle is a German-to-English translator who translates literary fiction, short stories, and articles for publishers and organizations throughout Europe and the United States. She also teaches German language and translation to u
ndergraduate students, and she is a cofounder of the Emerging Translators Network. She lives in London and blogs on literature and translation at translatingbetweenthelines.wordpress.com.