Chapters (198)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Mother Dear
- Three Weeks Earlier
- Friday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- Saturday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- Sunday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- Monday
- Mother Dear
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- Tuesday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- Wednesday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- Thursday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- Mother Dear
- Friday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- Saturday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- Sunday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- Monday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- The fall sun . . .
- “Helen? It’s Ria . . .
- Mother Dear
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- About the Translator
He held her face in his hands. “Not tonight. I’m in desperate need of some sleep.” He brushed her forehead with his lips. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up properly in England.”
“OK” was all she said. It came out as a squeak.
His eyes wandered up to the ceiling, as if he were searching for words up there. “Sorry, but . . . the air in here sometimes feels like it’s gripping me by the throat. Don’t you get that too?”
“A little.” But not so much that I don’t want to be with you, she added silently. Werner wanted to solve everything on his own once again. That had always been his way; he didn’t want to burden her with his weaknesses or doubts. It stung now more than ever.
“Night night,” he said, and stepped away from her.
She followed him with her eyes. Watched him walk down the long hall, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He opened the door and disappeared into the guest room. Without looking back.
Helen felt the tears prick her eyes.
14
14
Rick had offered to drive him home, but he’d turned him down. It was only an hour’s walk, and it wasn’t raining. He wasn’t in any hurry to get back either. Ralf stalked through the darkened streets, his hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets. Six fifty-euro notes rustled inside the lining of his coat. He ought to feel good, but the grin that usually covered his face after a successful job failed to appear.
He stared stubbornly at the sidewalk and bit the inside of his cheek so hard, he tasted blood.
Mother Dear
Mother Dear,
There was a woman on the ward today having a caesarean. It was her first child. Later on, in the break room, when I heard that she had brought a healthy boy into the world, I got choked up. My own reaction scared me. What touched me most was the expectant look in the woman’s eyes. It got under my skin. She couldn’t wait to meet her baby, to finally hold that little miracle in her arms. He would undoubtedly be the most beautiful little boy in the world, and he would grow up into a wonderful man who brought together the best qualities of both his mother and his father. He wouldn’t have to make the same mistakes as his parents, because they would do all they could to prevent that from happening.
Don’t we all have towering expectations that our children can’t possibly live up to? No woman brings a child into the world and imagines their baby will rob people when they grow up.