She felt suddenly depressed. Clever boy! she thought. So you’ve found a lonely woman, old enough to be your mother, and you’re putting on the bite.
“Two’s company… I don’t like eating alone,” she said. “Eat with me.”
She turned and walked along the street until she came to the first cheap restaurant. He walked behind her and she could hear him humming. Why not? He was going to get a free meal.
She pushed open the glass door of the restaurant and then paused. She had never been in this class of restaurant before. If she were going to feed him, he had to be fed here. She couldn’t take him back to the hotel. She couldn’t face the Maitre d’hotel if she took this boy into the luxury restaurant.
She looked around. Already, people were eating, and she saw with dismay, there were no tables for two. All the tables were set for six and all of them had people.
The boy seemed to know his way around. He touched her elbow and steered her to a table where two elderly Germans and their lumpy daughter were working through plates of boiled sausage and sauerkraut.
They stared up at Helga as she shed her coat. The boy took it from her and carefully hung it on a peg by the table. They sat down opposite each other. She found she was sitting too close to the German husband and she could feel his body heat. The boy opposite was sitting next to the daughter who squirmed away from him, then darted a smirking look at him. He didn’t notice, his eyes searching for a waiter. The tightness of his face told Helga how hungry he was and she felt a pang of pity.
A waiter came, dropped two menus on the table, then went away to serve an order.
The boy looked at the handwritten menu and grimaced.
“Do you dig this, ma’am?” he asked anxiously. “This language throws me.”
The waiter returned and looked first at Helga, then at the boy as if trying to make up his mind who should have his attention, then the tilt of Helga’s head told him she was going to order.
“Bean soup, steak and chips for one and an omelette for myself,” she said in German. “Two beers.”
The waiter nodded and went away.
The three Germans at the table, hearing Helga’s fluent German, looked curiously at her, then shifted their eyes.
“You speak the lingo, ma’am?” There was an admiring note in the boy’s voice. “That sure saves a lot of headaches.” He leaned forward, resting his big hands on the table. “I’m Larry Stevens.”
She smiled.
“Helga Rolfe.”
“I’m from Nebraska.”
“Florida.”
There was a pause while he looked at her, his eyes admiring and she looked searchingly at him, her eyes hopeful.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if you took off your cap?” Immediately she said it, she regretted it. Americans seemed to live in their hats.
He flushed, then tore the cap off, shoving it out of sight under his thigh.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I guess I’m a hick. I forgot I’m wearing the goddamn thing.”
She looked at his close cut, blond hair and then stuthed his face. Again she felt hot blood move through her.
The beers arrived.
“You, me and the flag,” Larry said, picking up his glass and saluting her. He drank thirstily. Setting down his half empty-glass with a sigh of content, he went on, “I’m sure grateful.” He grinned at her: a warm, friendly grin that made her feel good. “I thought I was really fixed.”
The food arrived. While she toyed with her omelette, she watched him eat. The three Germans at the table also watched. The soup disappeared. The big steak and the pile of potato chips went the same way. He ate with the concentration and the dedication of the starved. Every now and then, his mouth full, he looked up and grinned at her. The warmth of that grin was the nicest thing that had happened to her for a long time and she felt tears clouding her eyes. She frowned down at the remains of the omelette, not wanting him to see how moved she was.
The three Germans called for their bill and left the table. Larry laid down his fork.
“That was something, ma’am! That really was something!”
She saw the wistful look in his eyes as he regarded the empty plate and she signalled to the waiter.
“It was a success,” she said as he came quickly to her side. “Please bring the order again.”
The waiter looked at Larry, then at her and he nodded, a big smile lighting up his fat face. He whipped away the plate and hurried towards the kitchen.
“What was that you said to him, ma’am?” Larry asked, peering at her.
“They always give double portions here,” Helga said. “There’s another steak coming.”
His grin was even more boyish.
“I appreciate it.” He leaned forward, looking directly at her. “I want you to know, ma’am, I really appreciate this.” He shook his blond head. “It’s a funny thing, but when things look really tough, you get a sudden break. Ron told me that and I found it hard to believe. People do help out. You’ve helped me.” He sat back. “Could be… I could help you and I’d be glad to.”
“You never know.” Her mind went quickly back into the past. There had been other people she had helped but they were now dim shadows. Because of her husband’s position and his wealth no one had ever thought she might need help.
The steak and another pile of chips arrived.
“Excuse me, ma’am… this sure looks good.”
She lit a cigarette, her mind still in the past. Help? What is meant by help? she thought. It was easy to give money if you have money. No, that wasn’t help… anyway, not to her. To share something… to blot out this awful loneliness… that was the kind of help she wanted and yet how few could or would give her that?
She came out of the past to watch him finish the steak. He laid down his fork and sat back.
“The best meal in years! I appreciate it, ma’am!”
The waiter came over and she ordered an apfel strudel with cream and coffees, then when he took the empty plate away, she said, “What are you doing in Bonn?”
“That’s a good question.” Larry laughed. “I wish I knew. I guess I’m just passing through.” He leaned forward, his big hands clasped, his heavy shoulders hunched. “I’m being educated. My old man told me to come to Europe and take a look around. He wanted me to see Europe before I settled down. So I’ve been getting around. I started in Copenhagen, came to Hamburg and now I’m here. My old man gave me some money, but I’ve lost it, so now I guess I’ll have to find a job.” He shrugged, still smiling. “I’ll find something… I haven’t really looked yet. My old man doesn’t want me back for another six months. He reckoned I’d run out of money. He told me it would be good for me if I did, so I could make a living while in Europe. My old man is very keen I should look after myself.” He paused, smiling at Helga. “He’s a real square, but I’m fond of him.”
The apfel strudel arrived and again there was silence while Larry ate. Then while they were sipping their coffees, she said, “What do you plan to do?”
He lifted his shoulders.
“I’ll look around. Someone must want something done, ma’am.”
“But you can’t even speak the language.” 11
He laughed and she envied his confidence.
“I can always make myself understood.” He waved his hands. “When you have hands, you don’t need a language.”
She glanced at her watch. She had an appointment with her husband’s attorney in half an hour.
“Do you want to come to Switzerland?” she asked, aware her heart was beating uncomfortably fast.
“Switzerland?” He looked questioningly at her. “I don’t mind where I go.”
“Can you drive a car?”
“Oh, sure.”
She opened her lizard skin handbag and took from it three one hundred DM bills.
“I am staying at the Konigshof hotel. I am leaving for Switzerland tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. I could use a spare driver. Do you want to come?”
