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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?

Had Irene called? I knocked on her door, and she said “Come in” weakly. She was lying in bed, her head on a pillow propped against the wall, and she looked so bad – her face pale, her cheeks sunken, her hair soaked in sweat – that I would have liked to fly her straight to hospital in the helicopter. I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand.

“What’s wrong with you?”

She shook her head.

“You have no secrets from me.”

She smiled. “Only a couple.”

“With the helicopter, it’s…”

“I’ll be all right in a minute. Can you bring a strong coffee?”

Whatever I did would be wrong. Carrying her against her will to the helicopter and flying her to hospital would be wrong. Helping her, pumping her up with coffee, so she could run around all day and be exhausted again by evening, would be wrong. Her lying in bed, with me looking after her until she felt better: she wouldn’t want that. Not looking after her as she lay in bed: I simply couldn’t do that.

“And if Karl comes today? I can rest when Peter and Karl have gone, tomorrow or the day after. Now, I need to get up. Help me? Please?”

So I made a strong coffee, brought her the pot and a cup in bed, and I fetched a leather bag from the wardrobe, from which she took a small mirror, some white powder, a razor blade and a glass tube. I watched her snort cocaine. She needed support on her way to the bathroom; after that, she managed without my help. When she emerged from the bathroom, her stride was heavy but firm, her eyes animated. She was lively, as she had been after Gundlach’s arrival the day before.

“It’s already late. I’ll make breakfast. Will you find the others?”

On the way to the beach I saw the boat round the edge of the cove and by the time I reached Gundlach, he had seen it too. The boat came closer. A figure was standing in front of the small cabin, Schwind, and as he grew clearer to us, so must we have grown clearer to him. Schwind and Gundlach had time to prepare for each other. I wished the both of them would go to hell.

16

Schwind got off the same boat I had. He nodded to me and Gundlach, took stock of things, and marched decisively off to the house on the hillside. He was bald, massive, radiating strength.

When Gundlach and I entered the kitchen, Schwind was holding Irene in his arms. “Where were you? I looked for you, I’ve always looked for you.” Then he saw us, let Irene go, went to the door, grabbed it and barked: “Out!”

Irene laughed. “Everyone sit down. Breakfast’s almost ready.” She seemed to be enjoying it all: Schwind’s embrace, his outburst, the tension in the room.