Read Online The Lie by Petra Hammesfahr - Free Book Online Page B

Two sand-coloured suits with matching blouses, two pairs of identical court shoes and four sets of lingerie. Susanne couldn’t believe it. Nadia was already completely taken up with her preparations and, like a little child whose dearest wish was about to be fulfilled, she was on a high. “Have you had breakfast?”
    She hadn’t. Nadia immediately set about making some. While she was brewing up coffee, making toast and boiling eggs, she asked about the man she’d met on the stairs who’d stared at her as if she came from another planet. From her description it had to be Heller. Naturally he’d treated Nadia to some choice obscenities. From the way he spoke she deduced Susanne was having an affair with him.
    â€œDo I look as if I need it that badly?” she protested.
    Nadia gave a brief smile. “You’ve been divorced three years. He’s probably not that bad after a shower.”
    â€œI’m quite happy with Richard Gere,” she said, thanking her once more for everything.
    Nadia waved her thanks away. “No, no. You just can’t imagine what this means for me.”
    No, she couldn’t. When she’d been married to Dieter she’d been well aware that when he was abroad he didn’t live like a monk, but she’d never really thought about it. The idea of looking for someone herself for a bit of fun on the side had never occurred to her. She’d had neither the time, the opportunity nor the desire. An invalid mother-in-law reduced your libido to zero. - Water under the bridge. Forget it. She’d become used to doing without a man.
    Nadia put her new outfit in the wardrobe. Then they discussed who would see to what once Susanne was better. Nadia didn’t have time to do everything. Susanne was to organize driving lessons and a visit to the beautician herself. Only the hairdresser Nadia insisted on arranging herself. She suspected Susanne’s haircut was the work of some bungler from the tenement district where she lived. That kind of economizing could ruin everything. Nadia was going to make an appointment with her own hairdresser for the following week. That was to be her dress rehearsal.
    At four Nadia put on her sunglasses again, wrapped the scarf round her head and took the boutique bag, the orange juice and the suitcase
in which she’d brought the used clothes. She promised to come back on Monday afternoon and left reminding Susanne to eat her fill, get a lot of sleep and take her medicine.
    Susanne spent the afternoon eating fruit until she felt one more grape and she’d burst. On Sunday she paid the price for her unaccustomed indulgence with vomiting and diarrhoea after a second helping of chicken salad. Dry toast for supper cured her overtaxed stomach. On Monday she felt fine. She was hardly coughing any more and when she did, though it sounded deafening, it was a relief.
    It was pleasant outside: not too hot, not too cold, not too humid, not too dry, in fact ideal conditions for building up her strength with a long walk in the mild sunshine. But she made do with the kitchen balcony. She spent hours looking at the photos and wallowing in visions of a future in the lap of luxury, disregarding the fact that at most this “future” would amount to no more than one or two weekends a month.
    By now the turmoil of pros and cons going round and round in her head had subsided. She made an effort to look at the whole thing rationally. She desperately needed the money. She would still look for a job and would ask Nadia at the first opportunity if she could do anything for her. Just at the moment, though, the opportunity wasn’t there.
    Nadia was completely taken up with the preparations for her first stint as stand-in, setting about them with such intensity that everything else went by the board. On the Monday she turned up shortly after five, once more in headscarf and sunglasses, with more provisions and with equipment to deal