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Back The Woman on the Stairs Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Bernhard Schlink
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. Part Two
  33. 1
  34. 2
  35. 3
  36. 4
  37. 5
  38. 6
  39. 7
  40. 8
  41. 9
  42. 10
  43. 11
  44. 12
  45. 13
  46. 14
  47. 15
  48. 16
  49. 17
  50. 18
  51. 19
  52. 20
  53. 21
  54. 22
  55. 23
  56. 24
  57. 25
  58. Part Three
  59. 1
  60. 2
  61. 3
  62. 4
  63. 5
  64. 6
  65. 7
  66. 8
  67. 9
  68. 10
  69. 11
  70. 12
  71. 13
  72. 14
  73. 15
  74. 16
  75. 17
  76. 18
  77. 19
  78. 20
  79. 21
  80. 22
  81. Author’s Note
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

At first I had wanted to sink the boat. Sink it at the spot where I had woken up that morning and where, I thought, Irene had fallen into the sea. The boat as coffin or tombstone or burial offering at a place where I could grieve and say farewell. But then it felt like sinking the boat would make Irene’s death even harder.

So I sat on the bench and watched the boat go. It crossed the quiet waters of the cove, reached the open sea, danced in the wind and waves, but it stayed on course and kept heading out to sea. The sea was empty; no container ships, no yachts, nothing except Irene’s boat, which grew smaller and smaller in the afternoon light. Then I didn’t know if I still saw it, or was just imagining it. That tiny black dot on the horizon – was that Irene’s boat?

21

I looked out at the empty ocean and counted the days I had spent with Irene. They totalled fourteen – it was Tuesday, and I had arrived on a Tuesday, and we had been together not just one week, but not three either. It came to me how proud my children were when they learned to count to ten, or to a hundred, but they were in awe once they realized that numbers have no end, and thus discovered infinity.

I would look for Irene’s daughter. I didn’t know how to ensure that she got what was left of Irene’s mother’s estate. Irene must have been in contact with a bank or an attorney in Germany. How would I find them? How would I alert them to Irene’s last wish? I wanted to ponder the problem, but I couldn’t. I also couldn’t fathom how I might approach my children. With a business proposition, by offering to set up a firm with them, as Irene had suggested? By slowly showing more interest in them and their children, so that we slowly grew closer? By telling them what had happened to me?

Although my thinking led me nowhere, I did not switch it off. But the knowledge of Irene’s death again and again burst like a flood through the dam of thoughts I was attempting to erect. How could I live without her? How could I live without her? How, without her, could I live out what I had learned from her?

I ate some apples I had saved from the fire. I felt certain that on one of the next days, the boat from Rock Harbour would come to check up on us. I would not perish here. But I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had already perished. I didn’t want my old life; I had looked forward to a new one – as if the new one could have been with her. I hadn’t taken in that she was going to die.