Julia Franck - Back to Back

Thomas was chilly; the wood and coal he had put in the stove that morning had burnt down long ago, and he was standing much too far from the little stove anyway.

Thomas thought of Ella, and what she had told him about the lodger. Käthe was chiselling away at the elbow of the sculpture, she took a step back, looked at Thomas, looked at her stone, tapped on the chisel some more, bent down, picked up a large piece of stone, put it on the wooden table and went on working with her chisel. Since Eduard finally went away three years ago, Käthe had been letting the room to a lodger. Thomas and Ella had wanted separate rooms of their own, but Thomas had to sleep on the veranda. The twins seldom came to visit, and when they did they slept on the sofa in the living room. With the lodger, Käthe explained, they could afford heating, central heating with a radiator in every room of the house, running off a big oil-fired boiler in the cellar. The lodger’s name was Heinz. Ella and Thomas referred to him only as the lodger. If they ever did call him Heinz it sounded sarcastic, or at least subversive, and finally ironic, because they knew he had thought up that name for them, on account of his secret activities, so that they could call him something. The skin of the lodger’s face was yellow, and so was his right hand. He was almost always holding an unfiltered cigarette. Käthe’s tapping speeded up, short sharp blows that were to create the tapering of the arm on which she was working and give the impression of muscles. Thomas imagined the lodger with his yellow fingers quietly opening the door of Ella’s room at night; she had told him about it. In his mind’s eye, Thomas saw the lodger pulling off Ella’s quilt, looked at the sleeping Ella, pushing up her nightdress, pushing his yellow fingers between her legs. Ella was awake now, but looked paralysed; she pretended to be still asleep, her heart was in her mouth, she feverishly wondered whether she was dreaming — she had a headache that was spreading — and how she could end the dream, she felt as if her own heartbeats were stifling her, she knew she must resist but she didn’t know how. She had been able to recognise Heinz at once in the darkness of the room. What other man was already in the house at night and could get into her room? He was not wearing his soft peaked cap, his bald head shone instead, the thin wreath of hair above his ears was picked out by the faint light coming through the curtains from the street outside. The tapping of hammer on chisel struck Thomas’s eardrums, he was in the darkness of Ella’s room, it was as if he felt the lodger’s yellow hand creeping under Ella’s nightdress, groping around for her breasts that had only grown in the last few years. Ella turned away, the movement gave her strength, instinctively she sat up. They had exchanged words, Thomas heard them, they were louder than the tapping on Käthe’s stone, stronger than any oblivion, words that echoed inside him as if he had been there with them; it was all happening in his mind.

Hush, the lodger had said to Ella. You don’t want to wake anyone up, do you? Ella shook her head in the dark. Out, she whispered, get out of here. No, the lodger was laughing now, his quiet, snarling laughter. You know very well I’m not going. You’re a girl, Ella, you want it too. Ella clutched the quilt to her. Was he flinching back? Get out, she whispered, louder now. The lodger grabbed her wrist with one hand, and ran the fingers of the other through her hair. Your daddy told me how you like it. My what? You know who I mean. His hand was clutching one breast. Eddy’s little wife. Your mother threw Eddy out. Was it that he didn’t bring enough money home, didn’t he bother about things? Did she neglect him? Did he always have to turn to you? We know that, we and you. Eddy and I know each other, did you know? We work together, Eddy and I, you must keep quiet about that. No one must know. His grip on Ella’s breast was so painful that she wanted to scream. But she couldn’t. Go away, please. Words gulped down, pleading. It wasn’t a good idea for her to beg, he would notice her uncertainty, smell her fear. Ella’s head was ringing. Not likely, said the lodger, bringing his face close to her. Ella could smell the cognac he had been drinking, the tobacco that oozed from all his pores. The lodger pressed his mouth on Ella’s and tried to push his tongue into it. His stubble was prickly. Ella clenched her teeth to keep his tongue outside, she pressed her lips together so that they tingled, pressure, rough, felted, tongue, his hand under the quilt. Ella kicked out with her legs, teeth gritted. The light came on in the corridor, it shone under the door of the room. Now the lodger was whispering. Eddy told me you have a sweet mouth. You really do. Eddy would have taken you with him, you know that. His little wife, that’s what he called you, didn’t he? My little wife. The lodger’s breath smelled horrible. But you were still too young, it wouldn’t have done. Are you sad? No, I’m not. Cackling laughter. He was still clutching Ella’s wrist and pushing it down on the mattress, it was a firm grasp, she couldn’t wriggle out of it. Ella’s fear receded as faintness took over. Not a dream, I’m just fainting, she told herself, thinking almost coolly of a way to make him let go. A door closed, the light in the corridor went out, a second door latched. Silence. You like that, don’t you? The lodger had licked his finger and was searching, with the wet finger, for a way to get between Ella’s legs.

Tell me, aren’t you listening? Now Käthe was slapping Thomas’s arm. Get it down lower. I want to see that shoulder looking relaxed.

You like that, don’t you? Stop it, will you?! Hey, whispered the lodger even more quietly, can’t you call me comrade? What with burrowing between the quilt and Ella’s legs, his finger had dried, and the lodger put it back in his putrid-smelling mouth, not just one finger, almost his whole hand. The wet hand sought, groped, took hold. Hey, call me Heinz, little Ella, call me uncle, say ooh, you bad uncle. . Now he let go of Ella’s wrist, perhaps to reach for his trousers. But Ella took her chance, jumped off the bed at lightning speed and ran to the door. The lodger was laughing quietly. Get away, push off! Go back to Hamburg or wherever you came from, just go away, hissed Ella, the doorknob in her hand. You saucy little madam, he snarled back. Who said anything about Hamburg to you? You don’t know anything. We’re fighting for a free Germany, a socialist Germany, we’re at work everywhere. Hamburg is only a name, like Heinz, you just remember that and don’t make yourself look ridiculous. He left, disappeared into his room, the room that Thomas had secretly occupied in the weeks when the lodger wasn’t there and before he had put a lock on the door. Ella had told Thomas about the lodger’s visits, every word, everything she felt, every expression; perhaps she had left something out, perhaps she had added something. Thomas knew it all inside out, the dialogues, the incidents, he had only needed to hear it once and he knew every word. There was nothing he could do about that, he couldn’t forget it. His memory for words spared him nothing.

The knocking stopped, Radio GDR1 was broadcasting the news, and Käthe took off her dusty goggles, cleaned them with the hem of her blue jacket, and poured herself tea in the green-and-yellow cup that her potter friend had made and given her for her forty-fifth birthday.

You mustn’t tell her anything, Ella had insisted. She wanted Thomas to swear not to. He had sworn, for Ella’s sake. And what would he have told Käthe anyway? She probably wouldn’t have believed a word of it. She might have been furious: what did Ella think she was doing, going around in such provocative clothes? Käthe certainly had no idea of what went on in the house. It probably didn’t interest her. How was she to guess at something that didn’t interest her? She was gulping tea from her cup, breathing out heavily; Thomas could tell from the sound how good it tasted. She was a noisy drinker. She would never think of offering her model something to drink of her own accord. Thomas knew that, so he asked if he could have some tea as well, and his voice was hoarse because he had been standing naked for so long in the cold dust without saying a word.