Something warm and damp slobbered on Rath’s cheek, rousing him from a deep, dreamless sleep. Kirie was crouched next to the pillow, smiling at him with her tongue out. He started when he saw the black, shaggy hair and held his head in his hands. A throbbing pain protested the speed with which he had sat up.
He didn’t have the energy to chase the dog out of bed, but Kirie jumped out of her own accord, wagging her tail and barking at him gamely. ‘Not so loud,’ he said. The dog gave a short bark before pitter-pattering out of the room.
He tried to recall but there was nothing. He must have left the door open when he came to bed, but where had the dog slept? Hopefully not in bed with him! His alarm clock showed half past eight.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face and washed an aspirin down with half a litre of water. He hadn’t been this bad for a long time, but it was no use; he had to take Kirie out. There was no time for coffee. He threw on yesterday’s clothes without taking a shower and put her on the lead.
He wasn’t the only Sunday stroller on Luisenufer, but he was the only unshaven one. The morning sun had already enticed a few people out, above all dog owners. He had arranged to meet Charly at eleven, and needed to be on top form by then. His head was still pounding, but it was set to be a fine day.
What on earth had happened last night? He must have been drinking the wrong stuff, and far too much of it. Yet they had started with beer in the Europa-Pavillon, right next to Paul’s hotel. They had stayed there, precisely because he didn’t want to run the risk of coming a cropper somewhere after touring the local pubs. That much he could still remember.
As they strolled northwards through the gardens the memories rose to the surface. Yes, they had started with beer, which ought to have told Rath where the night was heading. It probably had, too, only he had deliberately ignored the signs. Perhaps because he was in the mood to get drunk as they listened to the sounds of the Manhattan-Band playing pretty decent American jazz. At some point, Paul ordered the first cognac.
They hadn’t seen each other for over a year and had a lot to talk about. Only that’s not what they did. They chatted, of course, but only about trivial matters, about the band onstage, about the new records Rath had received from New York, all the new talkies he hadn’t seen – even if he did know a few actresses who wouldn’t be signing any more autographs. Paul had talked about his work too, the wine dealership he was proposing to expand into the imperial capital. He had a meeting on Monday with buyers from Kempinski.
‘You should look in on the Kaiserhof as well, they could use a few good wines.’
‘I’ve reserved two days to go door-to-door canvassing,’ Paul had said. ‘Who knows, perhaps Wittkamp will open a branch in Berlin.’
Apart from chatting about work they hadn’t talked about themselves. Everything was exactly as it always was whenever he saw Paul. Perhaps because of that, Rath felt as bound to this blond, unassuming and frivolous man as he did to anyone on earth. Excepting Charly perhaps, but that was different. They were the only two who allowed him to forget his loneliness. They made the knowledge that life was a journey you travelled alone seem, however briefly, like a lie.
By the end of the night he was, more or less, incapable of standing. Paul – perhaps not entirely jokingly – had offered him a share of his double bed back at the hotel, but Rath had asked the barman to call for a taxi. He remembered that he had almost left Kirie behind, but the dog had come barking after him and jumped in alongside. How had he managed the stairs at home? Now, that he couldn’t say; the dog had probably led him up.
Blast, his car was still at Anhalter Bahnhof!
They stopped, and Kirie took the opportunity to use of one of the many shrubs to perform her business. Time was getting on; if he had to pick up the car then he ought to get home now, feed the dog and make himself presentable.
An hour later, emerging from the elevated railway on Möckern Bridge, he was already feeling better. His headache had evaporated along with his fatigue, and the sun was shining. Kirie seemed to be enjoying her second walk just as much as the first. Somehow it was a nice feeling strolling through the morning with a smiling dog on its lead. Yes, it was going to be a beautiful day.