Andres Neuman - Traveller of the Century

… convinced that, after much deliberation, such an important event should coincide with Christmas as well as with another joyous celebration, for it was during that festive season (do you recall, my love?) that you proposed to me. Bear in mind, too, that there are still a few minor organisational details which need resolving, and which, with a little extra time, I will be able to oversee myself. I know you understand my reasons, and I thank you with all my heart. It is going to be wonderful!

Your letter arrived on Thursday, and as always it was a delight. I really do think you should read poetry from time to time, because, despite your objections, I insist you have something of the poet in you, and then we could enjoy sharing some of the books I would like you to read. Will you do that, my love? Have a good rest in that beautiful spa (where, of course, we will be going together next summer), take care of your charming parents, and please send them my fondest regards. Don’t play too much at cards, I know you, and beware of Fräulein Hensel, the shy ones are the worst! From what you have told me, I don’t think I like her very much. But of course you may invite her to spend a few days at Magdeburg, silly, you know you needn’t ask my permission about that kind of thing. And it isn’t that I am not jealous, as you said in your letter — I detest telling people what to do with their free time as much as I detest them telling me what to do with mine.

A kiss from your “elusive little diurnal moon” (what a wonderful metaphor, my darling Rudi!) and thank you so much for the gemstone necklace, I don’t know how to show my gratitude for such a gift. I miss you dreadfully, too. Until the next letter, your

S

What! Herr Gottlieb roared, you did what? Without consulting me? Is this some sort of bad joke? Or have you gone mad? There’s nothing mad about it, Father, whispered Sophie, it’s only a slight change, that’s all, just a few weeks, and besides, December is a much nicer time of year than October. But we were all set to begin the final preparations! her father growled, flinging his pipe across the desk (it struck the brandy bottle and clanged like a bell). I know, Father, I know, she insisted, that’s why I thought now was the moment to tell Rudi about it, before we started organising everything. And have you considered what the Wilderhauses will think of us, you foolish girl? said Herr Gottlieb, twirling his whiskers. Or what Rudi will think? Don’t worry, Father, Rudi will agree, I promise you, I already suggested a slight postponement in my last letter. You did what — Herr Gottlieb became incensed — And what did he say? Tell me his exact words or I shall read the letter myself! He said he wasn’t keen on the idea, said Sophie, but that if I was sure and if there was no other way … Heaven help me! said Herr Gottlieb in despair. One of these days you will be the death of me! Don’t say that, Father, she stammered. Well I am saying it! her father shouted, oh, and as for the fair tonight, don’t you dare mention it to me, do you hear, you’re not going and that’s final! Do you understand? Whatever you say, Father, Sophie nodded. Now leave! he said at last. Leave me alone, go!

Wandernburg’s summer fair was like any other provincial celebration — its pretensions to grandeur gave it a pathetic, touchingly ridiculous air. The little paper lanterns hanging in the small park opposite the Hill of Sighs brightened the already moonlit night. There was a youth orchestra, plaster pilasters encircling a dance floor, brightly coloured garlands and trestle tables with drinks. Hans asked for a fruit cocktail, and scanned the crowd once more, surprised not to see Sophie — this was a perfect opportunity for them to go off into the park together, as they had agreed. While he was talking to Hans, Álvaro was watching Elsa’s movements out of the corner of his eye. She had a very solemn face and had remained talking to Bertold without giving him the pleasure of a dance. All of a sudden, behind Elsa, Álvaro spied Lamberg’s hunched figure roaming the dance floor. Look, he said to Hans, pointing at Lamberg, he’s been circling round like that with his glass for about an hour now, and he still hasn’t danced with anyone! Poor Lamberg, said Hans, let’s go over and say hello, maybe that will cheer him up a bit.

Lamberg seemed pleased to see them, yet he hardly said a word, and shook his head in irritation when they suggested he approach a girl with golden ringlets who was staring insistently at him, stroking the folds in her dress. They soon lost sight of him, and Álvaro went over to Elsa. Hans decided to join in their conversation to see if he could discover something about Sophie. But before Hans had a chance to ask, Elsa, who had been expressly requested to notify Hans of her absence, observed absent-mindedly how pretty the festival was, and what a shame Fräulein Sophie was indisposed.

Perfumed without her father’s permission, and with her hair scraped up to reveal her neck, Lisa Zeit crossed the dance floor beaming, her eyes fixed on Hans’s back. What she found most attractive about him were his flowing locks, inappropriate for a man of his age, and his deep, rather solemn voice when he was teaching her grammar. He wasn’t overly tall, but more importantly, he had good posture. She also liked the fact that some mornings he didn’t shave. Lisa had managed to persuade her father to let her go to the fair with her friends, provided she was home no later than eleven o’clock. She had flown into a tantrum, insisting the evening would only just be starting then, and had locked herself in her room sobbing until, at last, after tea, she had got ready to go out as though nothing had happened. Before she left, Herr Zeit had repeated his instructions and, when he went to kiss her forehead, had given her permission to stay out until eleven-thirty, but not a minute later.

Hans felt a hand touch his shoulder and wheeled round in anticipation. Although in a flash he replaced his grimace of disappointment with an amiable smile, Lisa noticed the gesture, and anyway she felt her new dress and high-heeled shoes deserved a little more than mere amiability. Hans looked at the dress — he acknowledged that it flattered her budding figure, but it was too formal for his taste, and touchingly vulgar. The clear purpose of Lisa’s dress, hairstyle and perfume was, he reflected, to make her look older at any cost. Yet this very eagerness, which emphasised the grace of her arms and the curve of her waist, only served to show Lisa’s true age, and her need to dress up like a woman because she was still a girl. Good evening, Fräulein, Hans smiled. Lisa thought: That’s better, he’s smiling. Good evening, Herr Hans, she replied, I thought we might bump into each other here, knowing what late hours you keep. Hans replied, a little uneasily: It’s quite a surprise to see you here, knowing what an early bird you are. Ah, sighed Lisa, habits change, people change, time passes so quickly, don’t you think? Yes, said Hans, you can’t imagine how quickly. Well, she declared, glancing about significantly, I came here hoping to meet my girlfriends, but I don’t see them anywhere, what a shame, I was sure they’d come, their parents must have kept them in, they’re nearly a year younger than I am, you know. Tell me, Hans said, attempting to sidetrack her, how is your homework going? Are you still struggling with the subjunctive? We’re not in class now are we, Hans? Lisa retorted. I’m sorry, he said, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wondered how you were. Then why not ask me, silly, she laughed, just say “How are you, Lisa?” and I’ll tell you, and we can have a normal conversation.

Hans went to fetch Lisa the cocktail she had asked for, and instructed the waiter to add only a drop of alcohol to the glass. When Lisa tasted the drink and said it tasted nice but strong, Hans smiled and felt vaguely relieved. Lisa spoke in a very loud voice, moved her shoulders about a lot and was beside herself with joy. Every now and then Hans looked for Álvaro but couldn’t see him. Their hesitant conversation slowed to a halt until they fell silent. Lisa glanced over at the orchestra as though she had only just noticed it and said: Wouldn’t it be terribly polite of you to ask me for a dance? To be honest, Hans croaked, it would be more polite if I didn’t. Lisa’s face turned pale, she thought she might faint and nearly dropped her drink. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, as if she had eaten glass, and she pressed her rosy lips together, stifling her tears. Hans saw her gesture and thought how beautiful she looked. I’m really sorry, he muttered. It’s all right, she replied in a faint whisper, and anyway it doesn’t matter, I’ve just seen a friend. Have fun, he said. Don’t worry, I will, she said wheeling round. Lisa, Hans stopped her, you do understand, don’t you? Perfectly, she said, walking away, you’re free to dance with who ever you like, goodbye, see you sometime.