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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?

“As we drank tea you asked if you could stay at my place for a couple of days, as if we were sister and brother. You had your own apartment, but Karl and Peter knew about it, and you didn’t want to be there if they came looking for you. Peter would have people looking for you all over town, and you didn’t want to be found. You could have gone away, but wanted to go to work again the next day. I asked if they wouldn’t find you at work. You said no, not if you told the director that you didn’t want to be found. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide for long, but you didn’t want to see the pair of them for a couple of days.

“We sat drinking tea on the balcony. There, that morning, I had dreamed of a life together, of this one, and one that was bigger and more beautiful, of a life in a garden with huge trees, of marriage. I would have liked to read some sort of promise into the fact that you wanted to lie low with me, but there was none there. I thought of films in which the hero just takes the woman in his arms, and at first she doesn’t want it, and beats his broad chest with her little fists before tenderly snuggling up to him. Had you known that I wouldn’t try that? That I wasn’t capable of it? That you were safe with me? Did you look down on me for that?

“But then I was overcome by joy that you were staying. At least we’d have a couple days together. Cooking together, eating, talking, reading the newspaper or a book, watching TV, shopping, going for walks. I laughed at you, and you laughed back, relieved that I hadn’t been pushy or begged, that there had been no drama. You told me about Karl’s rage when he realized the painting was gone, about the row between Karl and Peter, that they didn’t pay attention to you and only called after you once you were in the garden. You told it as a funny anecdote, but at the same time you sounded sad – about the both of them, about yourself, maybe about me too, because you’d simply had enough of men. That’s how our life in Frankfurt began.”

“Where did I sleep?”

“In my bed.”

“And you?”

“On the couch.”

She nodded. “You went to your firm in the morning, and I went to the museum? And in the evening we cooked together? And on Sunday—”

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