Read Online Forever Yours by Daniel Glattauer, Jamie Bulloch - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Daniel Glattauer, Jamie Bulloch
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love you to!” Hannes: “That’s wonderful.” Judith: “But?” Hannes: “But I don’t just want to spend the odd night with you.” Judith: “What, then?” Hannes: “My whole life!” The pause that followed was a necessary one.
Judith: “Oh, good evening Herr Bergtaler, I almost didn’t recognise you today.” Hannes said nothing. Judith: “And, by the way, it’ll be difficult to spend your whole life with a woman you haven’t spent the odd night with. Nights first, then your whole life. Which is why I’ll ask you one last time. Are you coming?” He said nothing. Slowly she stepped inside and made to close the door. He stayed where he was. “Goodnight!” she shot at him pointedly through the crack in the door. “My goodnight to you is in your bag,” he called after her.
*
For a restless hour in bed she managed to ignore the foreign object in her bag – from a napkin with the inscription “Sleep well” or “I love you” to the twin brother of the hideous amber ring, she thought Hannes was capable of anything. At around three o’clock she decided to take a look so she could finally get to sleep. But, of course, the goodnight from Hannes kept her awake for several hours more. It was an envelope containing airline tickets: Venice, three days, two people, three nights, her name, his name. Departure: Friday. The day after tomorrow. Then there was a pencil-drawn heart – far too large – and his unmistakeable handwriting: “Surprise!”
9
Venice was not to blame. It did all it could to live up to his idea of romance. But with its brightly coloured gondolas and green canals it was always fighting a losing battle against Hannes Bergtaler. Before they had even set off, she could tell from the feverish explorer’s glint in his eyes, his kissing of the guidebook and his expedition suitcase that it was a mistake to have accepted the present. She consoled herself with the thought that this would certainly be the last error of its kind.
They stayed in a small four-star suite with a balcony by one of the 426 bridges. Hannes knew every one, so Judith didn’t have to bother remembering them. You might think he’d grown up in Venice. But no, he assured her that this was the first time he’d been.
At any rate he knew Venice almost better than he knew himself. As it soon transpired, familiarising her with Venice was the deeper purpose of the trip, the deeper
and
shallower purpose – the entire purpose, the only one. At first Judith made no attempt to fight it. In his drive to lay the world (this time in the form of Venice) at her feet, Hannes was obstinate and relentless.
They put off sex from one night to the next because of (her) exhaustion and because sex couldn’t make (his) Venice any more picturesque. The daily schedule involved an intricate geographically based system of museum visits and tours of the sights and non-sights, planned coffee breaks – which Hannes used for short private architecture seminars – and excursions to the outskirts, “the secret, hidden, but real and genuine Venice”. He had booked tables in well-known restaurants for the three evenings and arranged tickets for the best violin concerts and theatre performances. Their cloakroom hangers had probably been reserved too. Now Judith was able to picture what he’d spent the previous fortnight doing.
Once more she noticed that every one of her feelings about Hannes was tied to obligations. This time she owed him her thanks and appreciation. What an elite tour guide he was! The trump cards he had up his sleeve incessantly to demonstrate his love! But if you were forced to be impressed at hourly intervals for three whole days, at some point you couldn’t take it anymore. After two days Judith had had enough of the chronically overblown Bergtaler-Venice and she feigned a severe migraine attack.
*
On the third and final night she was jolted awake by bad dreams and found herself lying on her back, wedged between his arms and
Judith: “Oh, good evening Herr Bergtaler, I almost didn’t recognise you today.” Hannes said nothing. Judith: “And, by the way, it’ll be difficult to spend your whole life with a woman you haven’t spent the odd night with. Nights first, then your whole life. Which is why I’ll ask you one last time. Are you coming?” He said nothing. Slowly she stepped inside and made to close the door. He stayed where he was. “Goodnight!” she shot at him pointedly through the crack in the door. “My goodnight to you is in your bag,” he called after her.
*
For a restless hour in bed she managed to ignore the foreign object in her bag – from a napkin with the inscription “Sleep well” or “I love you” to the twin brother of the hideous amber ring, she thought Hannes was capable of anything. At around three o’clock she decided to take a look so she could finally get to sleep. But, of course, the goodnight from Hannes kept her awake for several hours more. It was an envelope containing airline tickets: Venice, three days, two people, three nights, her name, his name. Departure: Friday. The day after tomorrow. Then there was a pencil-drawn heart – far too large – and his unmistakeable handwriting: “Surprise!”
9
Venice was not to blame. It did all it could to live up to his idea of romance. But with its brightly coloured gondolas and green canals it was always fighting a losing battle against Hannes Bergtaler. Before they had even set off, she could tell from the feverish explorer’s glint in his eyes, his kissing of the guidebook and his expedition suitcase that it was a mistake to have accepted the present. She consoled herself with the thought that this would certainly be the last error of its kind.
They stayed in a small four-star suite with a balcony by one of the 426 bridges. Hannes knew every one, so Judith didn’t have to bother remembering them. You might think he’d grown up in Venice. But no, he assured her that this was the first time he’d been.
At any rate he knew Venice almost better than he knew himself. As it soon transpired, familiarising her with Venice was the deeper purpose of the trip, the deeper
and
shallower purpose – the entire purpose, the only one. At first Judith made no attempt to fight it. In his drive to lay the world (this time in the form of Venice) at her feet, Hannes was obstinate and relentless.
They put off sex from one night to the next because of (her) exhaustion and because sex couldn’t make (his) Venice any more picturesque. The daily schedule involved an intricate geographically based system of museum visits and tours of the sights and non-sights, planned coffee breaks – which Hannes used for short private architecture seminars – and excursions to the outskirts, “the secret, hidden, but real and genuine Venice”. He had booked tables in well-known restaurants for the three evenings and arranged tickets for the best violin concerts and theatre performances. Their cloakroom hangers had probably been reserved too. Now Judith was able to picture what he’d spent the previous fortnight doing.
Once more she noticed that every one of her feelings about Hannes was tied to obligations. This time she owed him her thanks and appreciation. What an elite tour guide he was! The trump cards he had up his sleeve incessantly to demonstrate his love! But if you were forced to be impressed at hourly intervals for three whole days, at some point you couldn’t take it anymore. After two days Judith had had enough of the chronically overblown Bergtaler-Venice and she feigned a severe migraine attack.
*
On the third and final night she was jolted awake by bad dreams and found herself lying on her back, wedged between his arms and
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