Chapter 17: Munich Nightclubs

I’m summoned to the Hausmeister’s office after my practise session on Thursday morning.

“Pack your costumes and whatever you need for a three night stay in Munich,” says the Hausmeister, confirming what the Schlossherrin told me last Sunday. “Here are your instructions until Sunday. A car will collect you in an hour. Be ready.”

“Am I to wear my own clothes in Munich, or the Schloss uniform, Hausmeister?” I ask, tucking the envelope the Hausmeister has given me into my pocket.

“Hmm. Uniform, I think. See Frau Edeltraud for three extra sets of uniforms. Make sure that you return with them all.”

“Yes, Hausmeister. Thank you.”

Fortunately I have already checked that my costumes are complete and packed, so there’s only the extra uniforms and my toiletries to add to the trunk. I remove my own clothes from the trunk and put them in my locker. Satisfied that I’ve packed everything, I put on my jacket and wait for the car to arrive. A small hatchback pulls up to where I’m standing, and a woman in her midthirties gets out of the car.

“Put your trunk in the back and get in the car, Becca,” says the woman with an Australian accent

“Yes, Ma’am,” I reply.

“You don’t need to ‘ma’am’ me,” laughs the woman. “I’m just the fetchandcarry dogsbody for the Schlossherrin. I’m Sheila, by the way.”

“Hi, Sheila. Where are we going?”

“Munich. More precisely, the apartment where you will be staying in until Sunday.”

I take the opportunity to read the instructions that the Hausmeister gave me. They aren’t very detailed, simply listing times and addresses where I’m to report for work for the next three nights. Sheila isn’t very forthcoming about her own status at the Schloss, although I notice she wears a bracelet like mine. Just over an hour later we arrive outside an apartment building in a narrow street somewhere in the city.

“I’ll help you with your trunk and introduce you to the Aufseherin ... she’s the warden for the apartments,” says Sheila.

The Aufseherin is waiting for us at a reception desk just inside the entrance to the building. Sheila introduces us and leaves my trunk near the stairs.

“I’ll pick you up on Sunday afternoon,” says Sheila to me as she departs.

The Aufseherin waves a scanning device close to my bracelet and it beeps in response. There’s clearly a lot of things the bracelet does that the Hausmeister didn’t mention. The Aufseherin seems satisfied with whatever she has learned from the scan.

“Apartment 34 on the third floor,” says the Aufseherin. “Use your bracelet to unlock the door. Same procedure for the outside door at night. No noise. No drugs. No alcohol. No men. Make your own bed and keep the apartment clean. There’s food and beverages in the larder and fridge. Make your own meals. Anja will be your minder for your stay. She’ll pick you up at nine o’clock tonight and take you to where you are working. She’ll be responsible for you, so obey her instructions. Stay in your room when she’s not with you.”

“Um. Yes, okay. Thank you, Aufseherin,” I reply when it becomes clear that she has said everything she intends to say to me.

There’s no lift, so I haul my trunk up to the third floor. The small landing provides access to four apartments on this floor and I unlock my door by touching my bracelet against a square panel next to the door. The apartment is small but adequate for my needs. The main room consists of a couch, and a small dining table with a single chair. A small kitchenette is tucked in one corner. The bedroom has enough space for a single bed, a tiny wardrobe, and not much else. The bathroom is slightly larger with modern fittings, suggesting that it has recently been refurbished. The rest of the apartment is probably the original 1960s fittings and décor.

I find a corner for my trunk and explore the various drawers and cupboards. I come across a small map of the area and feel more at ease once I’ve some idea of my location. With another five hours to kill before Anja collects me, I decide to take a warm shower and a nap.

Anja arrives at my apartment door a few minutes before nine. She’s in her late twenties with long blond hair worn in a plait around her head. Her clothing makes her look like one of Munich’s many beer hall waitresses. I’ve picked out my costume for tonight and placed it in my waterproof travel cover. I’m assuming that I’ll be able to change at the venue.

“Good. You are ready,” says Anja. “Grab your costume and we shall be on our way. Bring a jacket. It will be cooler when you finish work.”

“How far is it to where we are going?” I ask.

“A fifteen minute walk,” replies Anja as though the concept of taking any form of motorised transport is alien to her.

The Ritter und Knappen club is a small private club in the basement of a nondescript stone building. Anja tells me the name translates into English as Knights and Squires. I have over an hour to change and practise. My first of three performances is scheduled for eleventhirty by which time the club is starting to fill up. The club’s clientèle certainly seem to fit the name. The only females inside the club are scantily clad waitresses, while the patrons are all in smart suits as though they’ve just left their office. Anja makes sure that overenthusiastic patrons are kept at arm’s length, and my three performances receive rapturous applause. It’s well after three in the morning by the time Anja escorts me back to my apartment.