ADAM GOT to his feet as if about to fight a duel. Evelyn came to a halt a few steps above him and set down her suitcase. The green tent was wedged under one arm. She smiled. “I’m going to Simone’s, for now.”
“For now?”
“Well yes, and then I’ll see. She has a visa too, maybe we’ll take the trip together.”
Adam wanted to correct her—what was pasted in their papers wasn’t a visa. So instead he just asked, “And where to?”
“Why, the Caribbean, where else?”
Adam let go of the newel so it wouldn’t appear that he was barring her way. He would have liked to put both hands in his pants pockets, but in getting to his feet he had grabbed the paper bag of fruit, and it was still there in his left hand. “Don’t you want to wait?”
“What for?”
“Shouldn’t we talk?”
“What about?”
Adam grimaced in agony. “About what happened.” He could barely take his eyes off the bright red toenails sparkling at the tips of her sandals.
“If you have something to say to me.” She cradled the tent in her arms like a baby and sort of halfway sat down on her suitcase.
“I’m so sorry, I apologize.” He looked directly at her, for as long as it took to get a nod. Then his eyes fell to her feet again. While he was dealing with the fear that she might harm herself, she had evidently been painting her toenails.
“I’m so very, very sorry.”
“Me too, Adam, very, very sorry.” Evelyn said this with exaggerated nods, as if speaking to a child.
“And if I were to tell you that it wasn’t anything, nothing at all like what you think it was. Lilli and I have known each other—”
“Are you kidding?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re lying.” There was resignation in her voice, as if she had been afraid it would go like this. “I’m leaving, before you can come up with more nonsense.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk.” Evelyn stood up.
“You’re going to cut and run, just like that?”
“ ‘Just like that’ is good. I’m trying to get out of here before the other shoe falls.”
“What shoe?”
“When it finally hits me what actually happened.”
“It meant nothing, not a thing.”
“Is that so?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“To me it means practically everything.”
“Go ahead and shine a light in every corner—it means nothing, nothing, do you understand? You can ask me anything you want.”
“About what? How long it’s been going on? Is Renate Horn from Markkleeberg the only one? Do the plump ones turn you on? Do you need something slutty to get you up to speed? Some things you don’t trust me with? Or is it just about variety? Does the designer want proper pay for his work? Is it your services that make them so easy, or do they come to you because they’re not getting enough at home anymore?”
Adam sucked in his lips and massaged his chest with his free hand.
“I’d always hoped I’d never be exposed to any of it, that I wouldn’t be forced to seriously think about what’s going on when silk blouses touch naked skin, about the plunging necklines you create, about those asses that you can tighten better than any plastic surgeon—”
“Evi—” he said, banging his right hand on the knob of the newel post.
“I had hoped that the betrayal only went as far as my shoes, or the garden or the couch, for all I care they could have … if that’s what you need, fine by me. But I didn’t want to know about it, didn’t want to see it or feel it, understand? As I was running away from the rathskeller today, suddenly there was this little man in my ear, who said, Watch out, be very careful! But I didn’t listen to him. And now I’ve seen it, and felt it, and that’s that. End of story.”
Evelyn picked up her suitcase, shoved the tent under her left arm, and descended the last few steps until she was almost touching Adam. Her gaze swept past him. She waited for him to make room for her.
Adam stepped to one side, holding the paper bag against his chest with both hands, like a bouquet.
“And why are you quitting your job?”
“Now’s not the time.”
“Come on, tell me.” Adam leaned against the wall.
“They stole something from me, if you must know, and then they blamed me for getting so upset about it.”
“And what was it they stole?”
“Perfume.”
“Your perfume?”
“My perfume.”
“That I got for you?”
“No. I’d just been given it.”
“Simone had stopped by, with her cousin, he brought it along for me, because—”
“The guy from last year? That smug little prick? Put down your suitcase.”
“At least he noticed how much I liked the perfume. I put it in my locker, and then it was gone.”
“Did these goodies come from him too?” Adam held out the bag to her.
“You don’t have to look so disgusted. Those are fresh figs.”
“Even after he hit on you like that, you said yourself—”
“Why shouldn’t I let someone hit on me?”
“Somebody like him?”
“You mean I should have reported to you about my contact with the West. I really wanted to, but you were busy. Too bad. A real shame!”
“I’ve told you—”
“And told them I’d be happy to talk about the whole thing, but first I wanted my property back. And that’s when Frau Gabriel said that she doesn’t allow vague suspicions like that. I asked her if that was her final word, and when she stuck by it, I said that I would take my vacation starting now. She demanded I stay to the end of the shift, and work tomorrow too. And with that I quit. Over and out.”
“And the swanky cousin was waiting outside to greet you with a smile.”
“Baloney. They’d left long before that.”
“I thought you said he was pushy?”
“Should I have said I won’t accept it, that I first have to ask my husband and my boss?”
“And now you’re moving in with him?”
“Oh, Adam. If that’s all you can come up with.” Evelyn picked up her keys in the entryway and opened the front door.
“You could at least have dressed right for the occasion,” he said.
“Well … stripes and plaids.” Adam followed her out and helped her clamp her suitcase and tent onto the bike’s rack.
“Want me to give you a lift?” he asked. “That’s not going to stay on.”
“Wait a sec,” Evelyn said, and now walked back to the garden, where she sat down on the low bench and scratched under the turtle’s neck with one finger.
“Be good to Elfriede,” she said, giving her right pants leg a couple of rolls. “Fresh water every day. And lay the grating across at night, on account of the marten.”
Adam preceded Evelyn, opened the garden gate for her, and handed her the bag of figs.
“Thanks,” Evelyn said and rode off. After a few yards the tent slumped to one side. Adam watched Evelyn reach back with the same hand holding the figs. He strode back into the house and closed the door behind him as carefully as if he were afraid to wake someone. “It’s not going to stay on,” he suddenly said, and repeated the sentence several times while he went back to massaging his chest.