I am quite unable to describe how I felt during that journey. Abysmal desperation alternated with a paralysing apathy which terrified me even in that state of mind. It was as if I lay imprisoned in some heavy nightmare, close to waking all the time and yet unable to waken, and becoming involved in ever deeper and more fearful horrors. On a seat beside me lay the parcel containing my shoes. The newspaper had burst open and I saw them, smeared and dusty. I looked at one of the soles: dreadful, simply dreadful what pretty Elinor had done, worthy of a queen of schnaps.
“Yes,” I thought, “that’s how alcohol tortures and makes fools of its disciples. It’s the only thing capable of such dumb-founding surprises. One thinks one is safe, one has acted the part well, one has overcome the worst, and suddenly it thrusts its devil’s face forward, flays your breast with its claws, leaves you trembling, destroys your dignity.…
I could stand it no longer. With a glance I made sure that the two gentlemen were deep in conversation. I drew the bottle out of the case, uncorked it, and took a few long pulls. But I had not thought of the driving mirror.
“Not too much now, and not too fast, my dear Herr Sommer,” said Dr Mansfeld, and lifted a warning hand from the steering wheel. “We would like to have a sensible talk with you later.”
The scoundrel, the glib medical scoundrel! Now that he had me in his car, he let the mask drop, I wasn’t being driven to my home, but to some medical discussion at which just by chance the district health officer happened to be present!
From then on I was absolutely calm and collected. The schnaps I had just drunk lent me new strength and concentration. I had a firm aim in view—to get this discussion deferred by hook or by crook; later on, certainly, under circumstances more favourable for me, but today, outwitted like this by order of her ladyship—no thank you, my dear!
The car went on and on. Already we were on the outskirts of town and so far I’d had no opportunity to withdraw my partnership in this journey. But then a big locomotive pulling two trucks came rather suddenly out of the goods-yard. The doctor put his brakes on and pulled over to the left side of the road, and in the meantime I had gently opened the car door; and now that the train had passed and the doctor was accelerating again, I jumped lightly out, staggered for a moment, threatened to fall and then caught myself. I stood, waved my hand after the car to give passers-by the impression that this sudden descent had been with the knowledge of the people in it, and then walked off briskly, taking the right fork in the road, along the goods-yard fence, to a small dilapidated colony which the townsfolk call the “shed district.” I shook with inner laughter to think that the two clever doctors would bring no more back from their expedition than the drunkard’s shoes.
13
The most disagreeable thing about my present predicament was that I was standing in the street practically without a penny. I couldn’t go home, where I had at least some small change in my bureau, because I was obliged to assume that as soon as they noticed my absence the doctors would go looking for me there, and make their report to Madame Magda. It was too late to go to the bank, it shut two hours ago. Just as I was looking at my watch, it occurred to me that I owned not only it, but also a heavy gold signet ring and quite a solid wedding ring, moreover, which, after my scene with Magda this morning, had lost all real significance. So I was not entirely without means, and I boldly directed my steps towards the narrow dirty lane that led through the “shed district.”
This colony had grown around an old army camp in the depression years following the World War. The former army huts had been changed but not beautified by all kinds of ramshackle additions and reconstructions. In between stood little red brick houses which were already collapsing before they had been properly finished. I went hesitantly along this lane, myself unsure what I was doing or looking for here, when, at a window in one of these little brick houses, the familiar red sign caught my eye, advertising accommodation. I stepped closer and read, sure enough, that there was a comfortably furnished room to let to a respectable gentleman. There was no doorbell. I stepped through the open door and immediately found myself in a kitchen filled with steam from boiling washing. I couldn’t see anyone, so I loudly called “Hallo!” and out of the steam appeared a tall, bent, but still quite young man, with a yellow pallor, a soft beard, and lightish brown hair which had a golden sheen above the forehead. This man looked at me with some surprise and in a soft voice, he very politely asked what he could do for me.
“I would like to see the room that’s to let.”
“For yourself?” asked the man, rubbing his hands and coughing slightly. I said, yes.
“It’s no room for a gentleman. It’s not fine enough for a gentleman. It’s a room suitable for a working-man, sir.”
“Show it me, anyway,” I insisted.
He went silently before me, up a stairway, across an unfinished floor, and opened the door of a little one- windowed room with sloping walls—an attic really. Its interior was almost exactly like Elinor’s primitive room, and involuntarily I went across to the window to see whether there was a sloping shed roof here too, to offer the possibility of escape in the event of a surprise visit. No, the shed roof was missing, but instead there was an absolutely astonishing view over my native town. It lay before me, a little below, with its red-brown roofs, its three pointed church spires and the round-headed tower of the Town Hall; the green-bordered river wound through it, disappearing here and shining out again there, and as my eyes followed its course, I saw in the distance, out among the green of the fields and gardens, veiled in a blue mist, a roof, my roof.
“It’s a lovely view,” I said after a while.
The man behind me coughed.
“A working man,” he said, “doesn’t ask about the view. He asks if the bed’s good, and that’s a good bed, sir.”
“What does the room cost?” I asked.
“Seven marks a week,” said the man, “and we change the sheets once a week.”
“I’d like to eat here too,” I said. “I want to live here undisturbed for two or three weeks, in absolute quiet. I have some work to do, some writing. I shall hardly leave the house, can that be arranged? I don’t make many demands.”
“Our food is too simple for you, sir,” said the man. “But I can have meals sent over from the pub, if that’s all right for you.”
“All right,” I said, “I’ll take the room. My trunk is coming tomorrow. Have some supper sent over,” and I sat down at the table.
“I’ll have to ask for a little deposit, sir,” said my landlord, and he pulled his fingers till the joints cracked. “We’re poor people, sir …”
“Sit down,” I said to my landlord. “Ah, I see there’s a glass over there on the wash-stand. I wonder if you’d be good enough to bring it over, please.”
My landlord did so, and at my repeated invitation, he sat down at the table.
“What’s your name?”
“Lobedanz,” he answered, “It’s a rather funny name …”
“I don’t care whether your name is funny or not,” I said patronisingly, “let’s drink your health.”
I poured his glass half full—despite his protests—and kept hold of the bottle.
“I can drink out of the bottle for once,” I said laughingly. “We’ve all done that in our young days.”
He smiled feebly and took a little sip, while I drank deeply.
“I must ask you, Herr Lobedanz,” I said easily, “to have a bottle of brandy sent over with the supper. But no rubbish please. The best they have in stock.”
I saw his lips move and guessed what he was going to say.
“About that deposit—I ought to tell you that I decided on this work quite suddenly.” I caught my landlord’s glance, as he looked thoughtfully at my open brief-case, which was quite empty. I laughed.
“Well, I’ll tell you the truth, Herr Lobedanz. All that stuff about the work I want to do here in absolute peace and quiet is rubbish of course. The fact of the matter is I had a serious row with my wife this afternoon. And in order to scare her a bit I want to disappear for a week or two. You understand, I want to bring her to her
