The Stronger Sex by Hans Werner Kettenbach

Author:Hans Werner Kettenbach [Kettenbach, Hans Werner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Psychological, Thrillers, Suspense, Travel, Europe, Germany
ISBN: 9781904738701
Google: A_3luPe69ogC
Amazon: 1904738672
Barnesnoble: 1904738672
Goodreads: 10240157
Publisher: Bitter Lemon Press
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

25

When I came out at the top of the stairs I saw Olga coming up them, carrying a tray on which there was a small terrine, a plate, a spoon and some bread. She said, “Wait, wait! No go away!” The staircase was too narrow for us to pass each other, so I had no option but to step back.

She said, “Wife wants speak! You go see her!” Raising her chin, she jerked it at the door to Cilly’s home studio.

I was completely taken by surprise. Had Cilly been in the house when I rang the bell to summon help for Klofft? If so, why hadn’t she reacted? Had she even already been at home when I arrived?

Olga, opening Klofft’s door with her elbow, stopped, looked at me and jerked her chin at the door opposite again. “Go in! She waiting.”

I was so irritated that I asked abruptly, “How do you know?”

She stared at me in surprise. Then she smiled. “I know! You believe! She waiting!”

I was about to go on with this silly argument when the door opposite opened. Cilly appeared in her painter’s smock. She smiled and waved me in.

When she had closed the door after me, she came close, raised her lips and kissed me. “How are you, my dear?”

Oh no, not this too! I’d had enough of these people. I didn’t want to go on administering first aid for their problems with growing old, neither the husband’s exhibitionism nor the wife’s hunger for love.

I took half a step back and asked, “Were you here when I rang the bell? When I needed someone to help your husband?”

She looked at me as if testing me, and smiled. “Yes.” When I said nothing, she asked, “You want to know why I didn’t come in answer to the bell?”

I said, “Well…”

“I knew Olga was in the house. And that she’d go to him at once.”

She was still smiling. Apparently she, like her husband, was letting me know that I wasn’t to be taken entirely seriously. She said, “You see, I’ve escorted him to the lavatory so often, got him in a fit state for it, that I’ve certainly more than done my duty. Or that’s what I think, anyway. And if I accept that he brought Olga under our roof as… as a maid of all work, literally all, then I think that I can also expect her to see to the reverse side of the man. Service and maintenance.” And without a word to bridge the gap she asked, “Won’t you sit down?”

“I’m sorry, but I really think I should be getting back to my office.”

She nodded, and smiled. I said, “Thank you, by the way, for those two newspaper cuttings. I thought they were interesting.”

She nodded again, and said after a moment, “I’d like to have them back. Maybe you could post them to me some time.”

“Of course. I’ll copy them for myself first. If I may.”

“Naturally. Why not?”

Suddenly it occurred to me that this might be our last private conversation.

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