The blind side of the heart - By Julia Franck Page 0,90

itself comforted her. Now he couldn’t stop rummaging around in his memories: To drop the subject of Lenz for a moment, may I advise you to let abstract words crumble to nothing in your mouth like mouldy mushrooms? Even Hofmannsthal recovered from his ennui. And what is it but ennui if a void stretching out before us fills us with discomfort?

There it was again, the idea of discomfort. Helene felt that his words were too importunate, something threatened to go wrong, the wasp in her raspberry sherbet tumbled down inside the glass, Helene felt a headache coming on. There was loud laughter at the next table. Helene had forgotten to answer Carl’s question.

I’d like to take you out in a boat. You can lie in the boat with the water rocking you, and you must look up at the sky. Will you promise me that? Carl waved to the waiter, asking for the bill.

There was a Mercedes cabriolet standing outside the inn, with people crowding round it, gaping, stroking, patting the carriage-work as if it were a horse. Helene was glad when she and Carl finally got to their feet, leaving the wasp to its own devices.

Carl took her hand now. His own was unexpectedly slender and firm. No leaden shadow, she thought, returning to that poem of Laske-Schüler’s, no leaden shadow heavy as the grave weighed her down now, the world was a long way from coming to an end. A clattering noise in the sky made them stop. Helene put her head back.

Can I tell you something in confidence too, Helene?

Go ahead. Helene shielded her eyes with her hand; the sunlight was dazzling. You have a weakness for aeroplanes, isn’t that so?

Carl took a step towards her. Junkers F 13 planes. She felt his breath against her throat as he spoke.

Without taking her hand from her brow, Helene lowered her head and her hand almost touched Carl’s eyebrows.

Carl stepped back again. I can’t talk when I’m so close to you. No, it wasn’t my weakness for planes I was going to tell you about. Carl stopped. Your mouth is beautiful. And I can’t think of a quotation. Why use someone else’s words anyway? I’m the one who would like to kiss you.

Some time, perhaps.

You mean next year? Did you know that Junkers are planning a flight across the Atlantic?

That’s failed often enough, said Helene, sounding knowledgeable.

All the way from Europe to America. But I can’t wait as long as that for your kiss.

Helene went ahead, pleased that Carl couldn’t see her smile. They walked in silence for a long time, deep in their own thoughts, each knowing the other was there. Helene was surprised now at the momentary sense of strangeness that she had felt at the inn, and hoped Carl hadn’t noticed. She felt far from strange with him at the moment. The man hiring out boats was sitting on a folding chair, reading the evening paper; passed on to him, perhaps, by one of his customers. He was sorry, he said, all the boats were out on the water, and when one came back he didn’t want to hire it out again. After eight no one goes rowing on the lake, he said. As they walked along the bank, taking off their shoes and surprised by the warmth that the sand had stored up during the day, Carl talked about the theatre. In a few brief words they had agreed on a shared preference for classical tragedies onstage and Romantic literature at home, but their understanding nods and agreements were mainly due to their impatience; they didn’t want to keep their distance from each other any more, they wanted to come close, they were in search of a way to bring what they were both thinking to its natural conclusion. Helene liked the reddish trunks of the pine trees here in the Mark Brandenburg; you didn’t see them at home, only in Berlin. The long needles felt pleasant between her fingers. Why did they always come in pairs? A fine little filament connected the two pine needles under their hard exterior. It seemed to her as if the evening sun were setting the woods on fire. The day was coming to a close, the pines gave off a heavy scent, Helene felt dazed; she wanted to sit down on the woodland floor and stay there. Carl crouched down beside her and said he wasn’t going to let her stay in the woods, there were wild animals