self-reproach sounded hollow in her ears – what could you do with it? All the fur hats around them had disappeared. The lights in the wagon wheel were still on, but at half strength. ‘I believe they want us to be on our way,’ she mumbled.
Anna stood up to pay, Lotte would not hear of it. But Anna beat her to it. She had already paid when Lotte was still searching for the lost sleeve of her coat. The Germans were too quick for everybody, with their strong Deutschmarks.
They had just been roaming about in the 1930s; now they stepped outside into a white, timeless world – the compelling silence that now prevailed created the presentiment of a great void. Anna took Lotte’s arm. Under the impression that their ways would part here, they stopped by the Lanciers monument in the Place Royale – a heroic rider marching to war wearing a helmet of snow.
‘Until tomorrow.’ Anna looked at Lotte solemnly and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Until tomorrow …’ said Lotte weakly.
‘Who would have thought it …’ said Anna again.
Then they both crossed the road in the same direction.
‘Where are you heading?’ Anna asked.
‘To my hotel’
‘Me too!’
They both turned out to be staying at hotels on the other side of the railway line. ‘That can’t just be chance,’ Anna laughed, holding onto Lotte’s arm again. Thus they walked on, the snow crunching pleasantly under their feet. On the railway bridge they stopped to look out over the snow-covered roofs.
‘Just think,’ mused Anna, ‘of all the famous celebrities who have come here to take the cure over the centuries. Even Tsar Peter the Great.’
‘The town still has something distinguished about it,’ Lotte endorsed, brushing a strip of snow off the balustrade with a gloved finger. She loved the atmosphere of aristocratic élan and faded glory emanating from the buildings below. The nineteenth century was still tangibly present and evoked a longing for a more harmonious and better organized way of living that had been lost for ever. At the Thermal Baths, whenever anyone on the staff held out a hand to her to help her out of the bath and into a ready warmed bathrobe, she deluded herself that she was a dowager or a marchioness who had brought her own lady’s maid with her.
They shuffled on, from one lamppost to the next, from one pool of light to the next, until they were standing in front of a villa with two round towers. ‘I’m there,’ said Lotte. The building of white fondant sprinkled with icing sugar created an unreal, dreamy impression. This day, with all the implausibilities that had occurred, had been dreamed, and Anna beside her was not real.
‘A palace,’ Anna assessed soberly. ‘I am lodging further on, it’s altogether rather simpler.’
Lotte sensed the criticism but was not inclined to explain that a sober family hotel was hiding behind the de luxe façade. ‘I wish you … a pleasant evening,’ she stammered.
‘I can hardly wait until tomorrow,’ Anna sighed, pulling her firmly to her.
It took a long time for Lotte to fall asleep. A pain-free positionwas difficult to find. And whether she lay on her side or her back, she continued to replay the meeting and the unburdenings that had ensued, An amalgam of conflicting emotions hindered a blind submission to sleep. How shall I tell my children, was her last thought as she dropped off, towards morning.
5
Full of sombre forebodings, Lotte woke. The hotel room appeared strange and hostile to her; the snow-covered branches through the window evoked no poetic sentiments, Everything was painful. This body was evoking aversion in her, not only because she could feel it with every movement but because its origin could not be denied. A Dutch person, in a German body. In Belgium. She would have liked to have made off silently, but the cure was a gift from her children, so how could she take flight from her own birthday present? Allowing herself to be led astray by Anna was a form
Anna stood up to pay, Lotte would not hear of it. But Anna beat her to it. She had already paid when Lotte was still searching for the lost sleeve of her coat. The Germans were too quick for everybody, with their strong Deutschmarks.
They had just been roaming about in the 1930s; now they stepped outside into a white, timeless world – the compelling silence that now prevailed created the presentiment of a great void. Anna took Lotte’s arm. Under the impression that their ways would part here, they stopped by the Lanciers monument in the Place Royale – a heroic rider marching to war wearing a helmet of snow.
‘Until tomorrow.’ Anna looked at Lotte solemnly and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Until tomorrow …’ said Lotte weakly.
‘Who would have thought it …’ said Anna again.
Then they both crossed the road in the same direction.
‘Where are you heading?’ Anna asked.
‘To my hotel’
‘Me too!’
They both turned out to be staying at hotels on the other side of the railway line. ‘That can’t just be chance,’ Anna laughed, holding onto Lotte’s arm again. Thus they walked on, the snow crunching pleasantly under their feet. On the railway bridge they stopped to look out over the snow-covered roofs.
‘Just think,’ mused Anna, ‘of all the famous celebrities who have come here to take the cure over the centuries. Even Tsar Peter the Great.’
‘The town still has something distinguished about it,’ Lotte endorsed, brushing a strip of snow off the balustrade with a gloved finger. She loved the atmosphere of aristocratic élan and faded glory emanating from the buildings below. The nineteenth century was still tangibly present and evoked a longing for a more harmonious and better organized way of living that had been lost for ever. At the Thermal Baths, whenever anyone on the staff held out a hand to her to help her out of the bath and into a ready warmed bathrobe, she deluded herself that she was a dowager or a marchioness who had brought her own lady’s maid with her.
They shuffled on, from one lamppost to the next, from one pool of light to the next, until they were standing in front of a villa with two round towers. ‘I’m there,’ said Lotte. The building of white fondant sprinkled with icing sugar created an unreal, dreamy impression. This day, with all the implausibilities that had occurred, had been dreamed, and Anna beside her was not real.
‘A palace,’ Anna assessed soberly. ‘I am lodging further on, it’s altogether rather simpler.’
Lotte sensed the criticism but was not inclined to explain that a sober family hotel was hiding behind the de luxe façade. ‘I wish you … a pleasant evening,’ she stammered.
‘I can hardly wait until tomorrow,’ Anna sighed, pulling her firmly to her.
It took a long time for Lotte to fall asleep. A pain-free positionwas difficult to find. And whether she lay on her side or her back, she continued to replay the meeting and the unburdenings that had ensued, An amalgam of conflicting emotions hindered a blind submission to sleep. How shall I tell my children, was her last thought as she dropped off, towards morning.
5
Full of sombre forebodings, Lotte woke. The hotel room appeared strange and hostile to her; the snow-covered branches through the window evoked no poetic sentiments, Everything was painful. This body was evoking aversion in her, not only because she could feel it with every movement but because its origin could not be denied. A Dutch person, in a German body. In Belgium. She would have liked to have made off silently, but the cure was a gift from her children, so how could she take flight from her own birthday present? Allowing herself to be led astray by Anna was a form
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