Read Online Nothing But Fear by Knud Romer - Free Book Online Page B

roll of Sellotape. As it grew, so did my arousal, and slowly a picture took shape of what I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams. And I hadn’t a clue where I was supposed to put it or what I was supposed to do with my secret once the last piece was taped into place and I found myself holding a dirty magazine in my hands:
Colour Climax, 1973
.
    M other was not to go and live with them in Kleinwanzleben until after the marriage had been consummated – as it was put – and Grandmother had given birthto a daughter with Papa Schneider. They hugged each other now and Grandmother wept, but they were miles apart, and from now on she would be the daughter of a previous marriage and come in second place after her stepsister, Eva. There was nothing to be done about it, so Mother patted the dog that was leaping about her – it was called Bello – and took her place in the Prussian upper-class like a guest moving into the others’ lives.
    Papa Schneider owned most of the district – the land, the people, the villages – and he walked around in riding boots and had the most magnificent motorcar, a Daimler-Benz. There were horses in the stables and servants. Mother was given her own room with a dressing-mirror and a wardrobe and a wide soft bed all to herself. She would never forget that first Christmas. There was the dinner, a tree full of candles, and she had been given everything – sledge, skis, dresses and picture-books. It was as if she had gone to heaven, Mother said, and she planned to keep her place there no matter what.
    There was a daily drill, and times were as precise as the crack of a whip. At six o’clock in the morning: riding lessons. She was given the most skittish horse and rode around with a stick up her back and a book on her head, and God help you if it fell off. Then came French and English and piano until one o’clock, when Papa Schneider sat down at table. It would have been unthinkable to arrive late or for lunch not to be ready – it was sent up in the dumb waiter – ding! – and served as the hour struck. Nothing was said during the meal – or about the meal. You ate to live and did not live toeat! Afterwards Papa Schneider listened to the stock market report on the radio. The entire house held its breath and heaved a sigh of relief when it was over and he put on his coat and left, and Mother struggled through the remainder of the day, fighting to retain her place.
    It was made clear from the start that she was illegitimate, that she was not a blood relative – ‘
blutsverwandt
’ – as her sister was, and that she was to conduct herself accordingly. It wouldn’t require many false moves to see her on her way. What was true for others was doubly true for Mother, and she did her homework and kissed Papa Schneider on the cheek – the left cheek with the scars – and made conversation in French and read English novels. She played the piano for Grandmother and her guests and performed the
Moonlight
sonata, her right foot pressing the sustain pedal to the floor. And Papa Schneider would watch as she rode at a gallop, taking the ditches as though she were on a hunt, though it was she who was the hunted quarry.
    Mother played tennis, shrieked when she served and won tournaments – and the trophies on the shelf stood for one loss after the other. She wanted a hug from her mother and was given a coat. She wanted a father, and all she got was discipline of the old school, and she had to take what she could get and make the best of it. On his holidays Papa Schneider went fly-fishing in the Harz mountains, and Mother got up at half-past three in the morning and tagged along carrying his kit. If he forgot his hat after lunch, she ran after him, handing it to him with a
‘Hier, Vati!’
The closest she got to him was when he stroked her hair and popped his haton her head as a joke saying
‘Kleiner Frechsack!’
and