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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?

I found that hard to put up with. I could not imagine that she would have wanted to be treated like that. So how was it okay to treat me that way? Does cancer or the proximity of death grant special privilege? I couldn’t see it, and I remain determined not to claim special privilege in the same situation. But maybe I couldn’t, as I had been doing, brush off her embarrassed apologies and thanks, and say it was nothing, without accepting that I’d be taken at my word. Maybe it was good that she took my help for granted now. Maybe fairness isn’t everything.

The evening after our arrival in San Francisco, she was again different. She said please when she needed something and thanked me when she got it, and apologized for all the trouble she was causing. It was as if she wanted to put some distance between us, and turn me into someone she wasn’t already tied to, from whom she could withdraw. She reminded me of my little daughter, who in summer camp learned that she could get along without us, and let us know, when she got back, that she was independent, and that we could no longer take her for granted. Irene was turning away.

“I can manage,” she said as she got up after dinner and went to the stairs.

“Where do you want to sleep?”

“On the balcony.”

She walked up the stairs, slowly, laboring, bowed, walking her hands on the steps. I stood nearby, ready to help her, but she didn’t need me.

I washed the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen and set the table for morning. Then I poured myself what was left of the wine and took the glass out onto the balcony. I heard Irene walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, shower, and return to the bedroom. It was hot, like the entire day had been and the night before and the day before that, and I noticed that I had come to like the night heat; it wasn’t less, but it had lost its bite.

Then I heard Irene call and went into the kitchen.

13

She came down the stairs. Her right hand grazed the wall, to support her if needed, but she held herself upright and placed one foot surely in front of the other. She held her head at a slight angle, and looked at me. She was naked.