Life After Forty by Dora Heldt

Author:Dora Heldt [Heldt, Dora]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2011-04-20T22:00:00+00:00

As she drove into the parking space, I was standing by the front door with the account statement in my coat pocket.

The apartment was closer to mine than I’d thought. We only drove for ten minutes before turning off into a small side street. Luise wrinkled her forehead as she looked at the cars parked to the left and right.

“It’s number fifteen, so if we get a space directly in front of the house, that’ll be good luck.”

As we found the house, a white delivery van put its lights on. Luise let it drive out, and then she pulled into the space. Laughing, she looked at me.

“Christine, it’s a sign. God, please let the apartment be nice.”

“And please let Luise get it.” I climbed out and waited until she’d locked the car. She turned to me.

“No, that won’t be a problem. I’ll be able to get it. The owner is one of my mother’s old customers, and I’ve known her for a while. So the apartment just needs to be nice.”

Together, we walked up to the entrance. It was a white Art Nouveau villa, very well kept, with stucco molding and a small balcony.

Luise rang the doorbell, waited to be buzzed in, and looked at me.

“If it’s as beautiful inside as out, then I hope it all works out. I don’t want to keep looking; this is the fourteenth viewing already.”

The buzzer unlocked the door, and I pushed it open.

“Well, fourteen brings good luck—that’s old Tasmanian folklore.”

“What?” Luise followed me, confused.

“It’s good luck. Every fourteenth apartment brings good luck. Just believe it.”

The stairwell was old and restored, with blue-green tiles, wooden banisters, and beautiful doors with brass handles. On the third floor, an apartment door opened. A blonde woman stepped out into the hall, with a fake smile, lots of makeup and hairspray, white trousers, pink jacket, and positively dripping with gold jewelry.

She shook Luise’s hand, and her voice immediately went an octave higher. If you were playing some game to guess people’s professions and the contestants were blindfolded, they would still be able to tell that this strange creature was a real estate agent. Her voice was horrendous.

“Wonderful, and this must be the girlfriend who’s coming along for safety reasons. So delightful to meet you.”

Her bracelets jangled. I was certain that she drove a BMW cabriolet.

Edith said, What a stupid old mare.

I smiled, gave her my hand, and felt slightly annoyed that I was yet again wearing the black blazer and that my jeans weren’t completely clean. She would have noticed that right away, I was sure.

Charlotte reminded me, You’ve got 16,125.20 euros to your name.

I grasped the agent’s hand tightly and gave a smile even wider than hers. She winced a little and quickly let my hand fall.

“Shall we?”

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