Read Online Nightmare in Berlin by Hans Fallada - Free Book Online

hesitated, but then he had picked up the glass that had cost him so dear and bore it before him with infinite care, like some holy relic. It was, after all, the last glass of wine that he was likely to drink on this ill-fated evening that had started so well. Behind his back, these fat, well-oiled burghers were mocking him in the cruellest fashion, utterly beside themselves with glee and schadenfreude . Doll himself, of course, took no part in this further humiliation of a man who was already down, and perhaps he was even regretting his angry outburst — Wilhelm was an old man, after all. But if he did regret it, his regret didn’t last, because the young woman suddenly said: ‘Quite right, Mr. Doll, I’ve never been able to stand the old sneak either!’
    The drinking and the lively talk around the table continued — talk that became increasingly drunken. The old vet was forgotten. But he was still sitting there at his little table, his hand still wrapped around the stem of his wine glass, which had been empty for a long time. He sat, he watched, he listened, he counted. He counted the bottles as they were brought to the table, he counted the glasses that each person drank, and with every glass that was drunk around the table, he thought to himself: I should have been included in that round!
    Dr. Wilhelm waited until they had all finally had enough, and made to pay the bill. Then the vet slipped quietly out of the bar and took up his position on a dark street corner across from the hotel.
    He had a long wait before the two of them appeared, both wheeling their bicycles. He saw the woman’s white dress; she was wheeling her bike in a perfectly straight line, while the man kept veering off to the side, and frequently had to stop. Then he started off again, bumped into his companion’s bicycle, and dropped his own. He broke into drunken laughter, and held onto the woman. Dr. Wilhelm also noted that they did not part company at the street corner where they should have gone their separate ways. Doll accompanied the young woman on her way home, stumbling, falling, cursing, and laughing. Nodding his head, and with his leathery face twisted into a grimace, as if he was eating pure bile, the vet set off for home, walking slowly and sedately, with his feet splayed out to the sides.
    Next morning, rumours of the ‘orgy’ that had taken place at the town’s premier hotel were flying through the streets and alleys, and were soon getting out into the surrounding countryside on the milk carts. Doll was summoned into town by a distraught phone call from the young woman, who told him that the hotelier’s extremely straight-laced wife had banned her from the bar permanently ‘because of her immoral behaviour’. The young woman was upset and angry; for the first time in her life, she had come up against small-town prejudice, which condemns the accused without a hearing, and against which there is no appeal or defence.
    â€˜But we’ve done nothing wrong! Nothing happened, not even a kiss! And this swine of a vet has been telling people I was sitting on your lap the whole evening, and that I took you home with me in the night! When the whole hotel knows full well that you stayed there overnight!’
    This was true. When it became clear that Doll was in no condition to walk or ride a bicycle, his companion had brought him back to the hotel, where he had then taken a room.
    â€˜Mr. Doll, you’ve got to talk to the landlord! The ban on me must be lifted, and someone needs to put a stop to these vile rumours! You’ve got to help me, Doll. I’m very upset! How horrid it all is! People round here hate a woman just because she’s good-looking and laughs a lot. For two pins, I’d sell our weekend house right now and never come back!’
    Tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes, and Doll promised to do everything she asked. He would have done it anyway without