Chapter 20

After breakfast the following morning, we got Rudi ready, or to be more precise, Cal and Caren got Rudi ready and we all piled into Jonas’s BMW X5 for the hour trip to Starnberg, south-west of Munich. When we arrived we got out at the Rambeck marina and walked down the pontoon to a very nice looking motorboat. The ladies, and Rudi, went on board to get the boat opened up, while Jonas and I carried the stuff out of the car, Rudi’s changing bag, a cool bag containing food for the day and a cool box containing drinks. The cool box was a twelve-volt plug in one, so Jonas’ first job on board was to get the electrical system live and plug that in while the girls got the food stowed away and got out towels and other necessaries. All in all, it was nearly half an hour before Cal and I cast off the forward and stern mooring lines and we set off down the inlet that led from the marina to the lake itself. As soon as we were out on the lake itself, the ladies grabbed towels, stripped off down to bikinis in the cabin and headed off to the foredeck to sunbathe, leaving Rudi asleep in the front cabin, Jonas and I in the cockpit and a baby monitor on the table in front of us.

“Are you a fisherman, David?” Jonas asked.

“I’ve never tried it,” I admitted, “I never really fancied sitting for hours on a riverbank waiting for one to bite.”

“There’s a lot of carp in the lake and they bite a lot. Would you like to give it a try?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied, “I’ll try just about anything once.”

“Good we can talk while we wait for them to take the bait, and who knows, maybe we’ll catch tonight’s dinner while we’re at it.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to clean the fish,” I answered.

“No,” he replied, “we’ll let the ladies do that.”

“I think I’ll let you announce that one,” I laughed, “I’m too much of a coward.”

“Ah well, maybe I’ll do it then,” he replied, before reaching down into the bag he’d brought on board and handing me an envelope.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s the police report on the case against Cal’s abusers,” he replied, “they thought it might be better if you read it first and outlined it to her.”

“I’ll try, but we’re together pretty much all the time,” I replied, “so I don’t know where I’d find the time, without her asking what I was reading.”

“You’ll be apart during the day all next week, there are intense rehearsals for the end of course performance. That might be a good time.”

“Good point,” I said, “I’ll read it Monday, all being well, then I can talk her through it that night. How bad is it?”

“Bad enough that a senior police inspector and a state prosecutor are willing to put their jobs on the line by giving you that to read and tell her about,” he answered flatly, “now let’s see if we can catch some dinner.”

I took the envelope from him and put it on the seat while I removed the cargo pants I’d worn until the morning warmed up, leaving me in swim shorts and a t-shirt. I folded the envelope carefully and placed it in the leg pocket of the trousers. He disappeared into the cabin and returned with two fishing rods and a large box. He propped the two rods against the transom of the boat and opened the box to reveal two cans. One was bait, the other was a tin of Green Giant sweet corn.

I looked at the can of corn quizzically.

“Ground bait,” he explained, “we use it to attract the fish over, and for some reason, Carp love this. Then we put the carp balls on the hook and start reeling them in.”

We did well, we caught four good sized Carp, a couple of other good-sized fish, and a good number of smaller ones. All but the two largest carp went back in the lake, and despite what Jonas had said earlier, he showed me how to gut and clean a fish. I decided it wasn’t something I’d want to take up for a career.

Once we had the fish filleted (all right Jonas had the fish filleted), we called the girls down and they left Rudi with us, while they cooked lunch.

“I could have cooked,” I protested as they disappeared below into the galley.

“So could I,” Jonas replied, “but then they’d have monopolised this little guy all day. Now we get to spend some time with him.”

I learned something new then, German baby talk is just like English baby talk. Fascinating.

Rudi really was a sweet kid, just learning to walk and talk. He could manage Cal, quite well, but got stuck on Da, when trying for my name. I decided that I could live with being Da. So, the next time you’re looking up David J. Barker on Wikipedia or IMDB, and you see the nickname ‘Da’. You know where it comes from.

The fish was delicious, and by the time we docked back at the marina, it was getting dark, and a very sleepy little boy was strapped into his car seat for the journey home.

When we got to our room that night, Cal was all over me with kisses and protestations of love.

“What brought this on?” I asked.

“There were three pretty attractive young women on that boat today, topless, yet you never even sneaked a peek.,” she replied.

“I never saw any attractive women,” I answered, “where were they? I do remember three absolutely gorgeous women though, were they topless?”

“You! “she exclaimed, slapping my shoulder, “you know who they were. But you never even peeked.”

“That’s because there was only one I was interested in, and I already know what she looks like topless.”

“Bottomless as well,” Cal quipped.

I took her shoulders and turned her round to face away from me.

“Nope,” I said, “you’ll never be bottomless.”

Then I slapped her lightly on the bottom in question.

We were all tired when we arrived back, and after Caren and Cal had put Rudi to bed, we older folks had hot chocolate and all retired for the night.

“Beast,” Cal said as I closed the bedroom door.

“Me?” I asked, “why?”

“You bruised my bottom,” she pouted.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, “bring it over here, I’ll rub it better.”

“I can think of something better for you to rub better,” she replied.

“But if it’s already better it doesn’t need rubbing better,” I answered.

“I could sulk,” she threatened.

“I could ignore you,” I replied.

“Maybe,” she answered, “but you couldn’t ignore a blow job.”

“I’m not sure I could ignore you sulking for more than a minute,” I continued.

“I’m not sure you could last more than a minute if I blew you,” she replied.

“Is that a challenge?” I asked.

She just smiled her enigmatic smile.

She was wrong.

The following morning, we woke about eight, made love again, then had breakfast. After saying goodbye to Rudi and the rest of the family, Jonas drove us back to the hotel in Munich, so that Cal could practice for the coming week. Her final performance was at the end of the week, and then we’d be flying back to the UK and getting ready for school, midway through the following week. We’d be changing from our high school to the sixth form college, so there’d be no uniform to worry about, but our GCSE results would be waiting, and they would influence our A level choices. I spent the whole week visiting museums around Munich, and the evenings we spent relaxing, except for Wednesday, when I went with her to the Munich police headquarters, for her to give her statement. They wouldn’t let me be with her when they interviewed her, but Jonas had thoughtfully provided an advocate to be with her and make sure that her rights weren’t infringed. For the three hours she spent in there, I sat and read through the police report. When she was finished, she was shaken and as soon as we were out of the building, she grabbed me in a tight hug and began to sob.

I just held her and spoke softly and soothingly to her until she calmed down.

The week went relatively slowly and, at seven pm on Friday, I presented my ticket at the entrance to the Prinzregenttheater, made my way to the auditorium and found my seat.

Now I’m going to confess something, Mozart is not my favourite classical composer, and Opera is not my favourite musical form, so I was there more out of a sense of duty than any expectation of enjoying the evening. By the end of it, I’d changed my mind. Given that the vast majority of the orchestra and singers were under eighteen, the performance was excellent, and all the singers got thunderous applause at the curtain calls. The Papagena, I have to say, was the best of the lot, although I might be accused of prejudice in saying that.

There was a party after the performance, where I got to meet a lot of the cast, crew, orchestra and the teachers. I met some of the friends that Cal had made during the summer and was congratulated by the staff on having an immensely talented young lady so deeply in love with me. I had to agree with them. Our last conversation was with Jonas.

“David,” he said warmly as we shook hands at our final farewell, “it’s been a great pleasure getting to know you.”

“And I have to thank you for taking such good care of Cal while she was here,” I said, “it’s much appreciated.”

“You need to try to persuade her to come here after school,” he said.

“We’re planning on going wherever we go together,” I said.

“We have a very good theatre department,” he said.

“But it’s Computing I want to do.,” I replied.

“Our technical university is world-renowned,” he answered.

“We’ll think about it,” I said, “but I’m not making any promises, we have two years of school to go.”

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it,” he said, “on another note, do you two need a lift to the airport tomorrow?”

“No thanks,” I replied, “we’re going by train. I thought a nice two-day trip up the Rhine would be a good way to relax.”

“That’s good,” he replied, “it certainly is beautiful. But go up the West Bank line, not the east. It’s better. And you get a better view of Loreley.”