Uwe Tellkamp - The Tower

‘The disadvantage would be that we’d have to accept any dump we’re offered. A fellow student knows someone in the accommodation directorate and says teachers are supposed to get preferential treatment. We’ll see. At least it’s in Berlin and you suggested Thomas’s prospects might be better there than here.’

‘Yes, that’s something I wanted to discuss with the pair of you. I can say “ du ” to you now, can’t I?’ Richard gave a playful tug on the sleeve of Wernstein’s tailcoat, which Barbara had altered; you could tell from the cut that it must have been handed down and all the oil of lavender from Barbara’s secret stock couldn’t overpower the smell of mothballs coming from the swallow tails and shiny lapels enclosing a pink bow tie with black dots on a white frilled shirt. ‘As long as Müller’s head of surgery I can’t imagine you’re going to get anywhere. Grefe’s the assistant in South One and that’s where the real careers have started ever since I’ve been with Müller. I can offer to put in a word for you with Orthopaedics or in Friedrichstadt; Pahl’s a man you can get on with, one of us.’

‘I’d still only be an assistant there, I wouldn’t be any farther on,’ Wernstein said after a few moments’ thought.

‘If they separate trauma from general surgery, as Pahl tells me they’ve been working towards for some time, he’ll become head and you could apply for a post as senior physician. Of course, there’s always the possibility they’ve already earmarked the post for an internal candidate. And you said you don’t want to move into orthopaedics.’

‘You could take the job in Buch?’

‘I’d be stuck there, my dear spouse. I wouldn’t be able to develop. Their main focus of research is in different areas and I want to do my post-doc qualification in traumatology. We’ve already talked about that and we don’t need to go through it all again. Especially not today.’

‘You’d be earning considerably more than at the Charité Hospital in Berlin.’

‘Maybe. But I’d be at the Charité … Sauerbruch, Brugsch, Felix, Frey, Nissen … I could continue my research there. Here Müller won’t let me get on.’

‘You’ll soon be a father, let me remind you. Even if your wife isn’t that important to you, you ought to be able to give your son something. — Yesyes, we’re coming,’ Ina shouted to some of the guests in the lower part of the garden.

‘When is it due? Do you already know —’

‘It will be a boy,’ Ina said emphatically.

‘No, it’ll be a girl.’ Wernstein laughed. ‘By the way, we’re with Weniger. — What d’you think of him, Herr … er … Richard?’

‘One of the best gynaecologists I know. One of the old school.’

‘The fifth of July,’ Ina said. ‘It will be a boy. You may have your clinical wisdom, but I’m the mother, I know it’s going to be a boy. Uncle Richard, would you write a reference for Thomas?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Richard said, nonplussed by Ina’s direct approach.

‘May I ask you something? What do think of him as a surgeon?’

Richard gave her a searching look. Wernstein had flushed bright red and tried to wave away her question; she shook her head. ‘I know it’s tactless of me but I’d really like to know. I want you to give me an honest answer and if you think it’s not for his ears, we’ll send him away. — And, by the way, Christian doesn’t look too good. Perhaps he’s exaggerating? He’s always tended to overdramatize a bit.’

‘I don’t think he’s exaggerating. He’s in the army, in Grün, it’s just a little place.’

‘He gave me a jug. It’s really nice of him.’

Richard clasped his hands behind his back. He could sense that both Ina and Wernstein were curious, which he found embarrassing, he felt it was a little improper; he was also disturbed by the eagerness, the hint of calculation, in Ina’s question, as if she suspected that under these circumstances — alone with the newlyweds — it would be impossible for him to avoid answering. ‘I wouldn’t answer your question if I had to lie because it’s your wedding day. I’d have managed to wriggle out of it, believe me. But since it won’t spoil your day, as I hope, I can give a straight, honest answer to a straight, honest question. I think your husband’s a born surgeon and expect great things of him. I’d be proud and happy if my boys had his abilities. I can also say that I regard him as a kind of son. What I was actually hoping, Thomas, was that you’d succeed me but, as I can see, you have other plans. If you want my opinion: in your place I’d do exactly what you intend to do. Unfortunately Müller’s allocated Kohler to me as assistant, not you.’

‘Him!’

‘Not a bad surgeon, but not a patch on you. I’ll have to see what I can do for you. I know a few people at the Charité. Though, of course, you could always wait and see, Müller’s retiring next year — though that doesn’t mean things will be any easier. — Perhaps we should discuss this later, or another time, your friends are getting impatient already. What did you think of the sermon?’

‘You shouldn’t be intransigent, Uncle Richard. Pops was also against a church wedding, but I wanted it. For a man who has to preach the word of God in the middle of atheism, I think he does it very well.’

‘Certainly, certainly,’ Richard said in placatory tones. He watched the pair of them go as they headed for the summerhouse. They exchanged a few words with Josta and her husband; Josta was holding Lucie’s hand, not letting go, and Richard turned round and quickly left before his daughter could look at him. She’ll be starting school this year, he thought.

Meno puzzled over the custom of sawing a tree trunk at a wedding. Two people joined together in marriage and affirmed this union by, of all things, putting a frame saw to a trunk the diameter of a telegraph pole and starting, as Ina and Wernstein were now doing to the encouragement and raillery of those around, to heave it back and forth. Ina soon wearied and, with a laugh, begged for someone to replace her. Helmut Hoppe shouted that that was the beginning of infidelity and she couldn’t have a replacement for the birth, ‘So keep sawing, child’, otherwise what they’d just heard was the bride herself calling for her rival.

‘You’ve got things completely wrong again, Meno. To get through a trial together, that’s what it means. You always insist on spending so long thinking things over until they get distorted and a cat suddenly becomes a dog. Which is more or less the case with your Chakababa or whatever he’s called, the name’s completely unpronounceable. I’m sure even Arbogast’s monsters are afraid of him. And isn’t it outrageous to stink the street out with toxic gases. Yes, toxic gases, I know exactly what I’m saying. A very shady character, that Baron, they say that with the Russians … I can believe anything of him. Toxic gases. It stinks — and that when we’re celebrating a wedding. After all, we did put up notices spelling it out clearly. It’s criminal, the stench the people in that dubious Institute of his make. Enoeff.’ Barbara waved away any possible objections Meno might have with a vigorous gesture. He was standing beside Gudrun, trying to keep both bride and groom in sight while Barbara took out a clothes’ brush and wiped the dandruff off his jacket. ‘What d’you think of him? Isn’t he a fantastic man? So attractive! And he’s got a head on his shoulders, too, a doctor, a surgeon, he’ll never starve and Ina won’t want for anything.’

‘As long as he’s faithful.’ Gudrun insisted on putting a damper on things. ‘In Ina’s place I’d have made him have his palm read. A colleague of mine does it, doesn’t cost a lot.’