Chapter 19

While settling accounts with the inn, I mentioned to our landlady that we would have to come back for orgies at some other date. We simply forgot to indulge. She was clearly curious to know what our stay was all about, but rather than ask told us that we were welcome back at any time. A good hostess.

We were quite relieved to return to our normal lives once more. Alfred spent a few more days with us, discussing all that had happened, what could have been handled differently, perhaps better. Yet he was much pleased with the overall results.

"Bert, I often wonder what makes you tick. Some of your actions are outrageous to say the least. That Karla bears you no grudges is the biggest surprise and says much for her resilience. But where you get those weird ideas I cannot fathom at all. And even less that they work so damn well."

Short of baring my soul, a bit of honesty seemed indicated. "I don't want to talk about my peculiar character. Both of you know all about that in any case. Most of the times it's a composite state, impatience, frustration, anger, compassion, pushing me to those extremes. After this happens, I am ashamed and embarrassed. That my actions work after a fashion is small consolation."

"No, Berthold, there must be more to it. Karla told me about her reactions and impressions. She, too, felt shame, hate, fear, amongst other things. She had been appalled that she became aroused when you first treated her. Your aloofness and impersonal behaviour made her resent you even more. The brutality of your words nearly broke her. Yet, when she lay in the clinics, she had sufficient time to realise what you tried to achieve. Your crass act on your excursion stumped her even more. It was a violation bordering on rape, but again you surprised her with what she called your 'professionalism'. At the same time, she was wondering why she followed your instructions so meekly.

"There you have it, Berthold. I don't want to break any confidences. Even though I disagreed strongly at times, cursed you even, you did good. You are right too, Alfred, we do work well together. Be sure to tell Jake how much Helmut appreciated his role."

Alfred was a very happy man when he left us. "Berthold, I enjoyed what we did and achieved together. But please, if ever you feel an urge to heal again, consult with us and let us think of possible pitfalls beforehand."

He gave us a cheerful wave and disappeared instantly, out of time phase, out of sight.

The year proceeded in unspectacular fashion, in itself a great relief. The site for our new house had been cleared, all rubble removed and building was now well under way. Our evening strolls often took us to the construction site. Like children we were, with a new toy to explore. Helmut had promised us occupation by early autumn.

Even with modern building techniques, putting up a house can be harrowing. Good to his word, Helmut took care of all hassles but avoided private contacts as much as possible. I suspected that this was his way of trying to lead a normal life. Elise, however, stayed in touch with Karla and continued in her role of good aunt to the girls. All appeared to be going well, the family functioning as it should.

If we felt, Elise and I, a vague unease it probably stemmed from some subconscious resentment. They didn't need us any longer. No close friendships had grown from our involvement.

Finally, at the end of September, Helmut advised me that the house was ready for occupation. They had checked it all, we to go through with him once more before signing off. He and his company had done a great job. Everything was working as it should: kitchen appliances, bathroom fittings, solar heating, the lot. The finish was immaculate throughout. Basic landscaping had been done as well. Secure in his knowledge that all was as it should be, he asked us for our signature before handing over the keys.

"Elise, Berthold, there should be witnesses to this little ceremony, don't you think?"

Without waiting for our reply, he went to the front door and brought in Karla, Elvira and Charlotte. They in turn brought trays with a bottle of bubbly, glasses, assorted snacks, and happy laughs at our surprise. We signed on the line, I handed Helmut the cheque for the outstanding amount and we all drank to our new home, his good work and a happy future for us all. A bunch of keys was handed over.

They did not stay long after that. We all felt a certain awkwardness and couldn't find it in us to overcome it. However, Elise and I were happy enough with our new house to think much about it. Instead we thought of the impending move and all the turmoil that would bring. Sorting, packing up, loading, unloading, change of address, the thousands of things, big and small, to be taken care of.

We managed. Our children came to help, the moving company was well organised, there were no unsurmountable obstacles. At night time, now up on the hill, we once more enjoyed the comfort of our familiar beds as well as the magnificent view through the large bay windows.

It took us the remainder of the month to get comfortable in our home. To get used to day and night noises, the sounds of wind and rain. The clicks when the heater kicked in didn't bother us anymore, we needn't grope in the dark for light switches, Elise handled the fancy modern cooking range like a pro. And even the newspaper and mail got delivered regularly.

Instead of selling our old house, we had decided to refurbish it and put it up for rent. The real-estate market was still weak. We could wait.

"Oh my God, Berthold, hear this. 'Family tragedy! Grandfather slain!'" It was in that quiet time 'between the years' when Elise read out the headlines. We were both deathly shocked and dreaded to read more.

In the typical style of this primitive news rag, the article offered little of substance but lots of speculation. Apparently the police were called after a family confrontation in an upper-class suburb of the county town got out of hand. "The 'senior' was 'probably' bashed with a kitchen implement, thereafter certified dead by the medical examiner. Apparently one of the children had done the deed. His widow was being treated for severe shock. No arrests had as yet been made. Two underage daughters had been moved to a safe house. Parents were being questioned. Police were expected to release a statement later in the day."

Even though no names were mentioned, we assumed that fate had struck at 'our ' family again. Next day, our worst fears were confirmed. Bad taste triumphed when the paper showed a photograph of the 'distressed' parents, an enraged Helmut with heartbroken Karla in his arms, taken with a very long lens. The bastards. What to do now? How to help?

I decided to ask Alfred and Jake.

"Bert, let's meet on the Island, now."

We were so devastated by this disaster, we failed in our provisioning, picked listlessly at our food, barely tasted what we drank.

"Friends, I know I must do something, offer any help they might need. But how to approach them without appearing ghoulish and causing more grief? I dare not speculate which of the poor daughters needs help the most."

The long silence was broken by Alfred.

"I will do it. I will speak with Helmut, you will help me backstage, I hope."

He also got on the web and visited the home page of the local police department. He proceeded to hack into their network quite easily. All he could find out was that Elvira was locked up in a safe house. Charlotte stayed with her of her own will. No further information had been stored so far.

Elise cried silently, despondently. "Oh, Berthold, how could they let her parents pester them again?"

"Yes, we should have done something with them, or to them, rather. We were all against it, for very good reasons. Still, we would've been shod of the evil couple for good. Too late now. Let's go back to our homes and prepare."