Chapter 39

There were ten weeks of filming left on the show, assuming we didn’t have any more hold-ups. Fortunately, we didn’t and the big event was my seventeenth birthday.

Of course everybody back home had sent cards and promises of presents when I arrived home. The best present of all though was the arrival of one brand new Provisional Driving Licence. I could start lessons as soon as I arrived back home. My colleagues at work, though, surpassed themselves. We seemed to have developed a ‘tradition’ that when someone had a birthday, we celebrated it with a barbecue and pool party at our director’s house and mine was no exception.

For once, I didn’t arrive late for the party, which surprised everybody, I always arrived late for parties, mainly because I didn’t really want to be there, but this was, after all, my birthday party. So, I felt that this time I had to make the effort. Of course the party was on Saturday, while my actual birthday had been the previous Tuesday, but I had made my mind up to enjoy the day as best I could. We had the entire cast, partners, children and the crew. Since the crew were virtually all locals, we had nearly two hundred people there and three charcoal barbecues going. The whole affair split up into three distinct parts. First the adults who were sat around the patio drinking and talking. The older teens, young adults, really, who were busy flirting with each other and the younger teens and actual kids, who were busy having fun in the pool.

I waved my sports bag at our host and he pointed me at the pool house to change. When I came out the kids were all playing in the pool and I stood at the edge of the pool watching them. From the single player swimming the pool with, in this case her, eyes shut, repeatedly shouting ‘Marco,’ which was followed by a response of ‘Polo,’ from the others, I guessed they were playing Marco Polo, which seemed to be a fixture of these parties.

“Not joining in?” a light soprano voice with a slight accent asked from just behind me.

“I don’t know,” I said, “it looks like fun.”

I turned and saw her and immediately thought of changing my name to Siegfried. Tall, blonde, shapely, especially in the bikini she was wearing, she was the very embodiment of Brunhilde.

“Hi,” I said, sticking my hand out, “I’m David.”

“Anneliese,” she said, shaking my hand, “are you on the TV show?”

“You might say that,” Brenda McAffee, who played Grandma Scott, said, “David J Barker, the star of our show, meet Anneliese Rothweiler, my granddaughter.”

“Es freute mich, Sie zu kennenlernen,” I said.

“Sie spricht Deutsch?”

“Ja, ein bisschen, aber Sie können mich duzen.”

“Und du auch,” she said.

Brenda looked puzzled.

“We were just saying hello and deciding that we’d use du instead of the formal Sie while speaking,” I explained.

“So, are you joining in?” Anneliese asked, indicating the pool with a nod of her head.

“I will if you will,” I replied.

She answered me by diving into the pool, so I followed her.

For the next half hour, we splashed about like a couple of kids, by which time the meat on the barbecue was suitably burned and everybody took a break to queue for food.

Except me, as the main man of the party, I got to go first, so I grabbed Anneliese’s hand and dashed to the front.

Once we had our meat, we raided the buffet table for salads and found two seats on a picnic table towards the bottom of the garden.

“Where are you from in Germany?” I asked.

“München,” she said, “do you know it?”

“I’ve been there twice, although the first time was a very brief visit.”

“It sounds like there’s a story there.”

“My first girlfriend has been to the Hochschule für Musik summer school a couple of times.”

“Your first girlfriend?” she asked, “how many have you got?”

“None now,” I said, “my last girlfriend died a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching over to lay her hand on top of mine, “is it still raw?”

“Pretty much,” I said, then changed the subject, “what do you do in Munich? School?”

“I’m a student,” she said.

“What of?” I asked.

“Cello and Piano, at the Hochschule,” she replied, “I also work summers at the summer school. What was your girlfriend’s name, I may know her?”

“Cal, Calista Warner.”

“Oh the little English girl who was caught up in the sex scandal a couple of years ago, the one that Professor Kaufmann thinks is going to be the next Birgit Nilsson.”

“You know her?” I asked.

“I saw her around last year, but not really. I just know the story, which was the year before I started. They mention it at the start of every summer school and every year now, warning people to be careful.”

“Well, at least something positive came of it all,” I said, then we changed tack to ambitions.

She was amazed that despite being what she called ‘a big movie star’ I was still determined to go to University and get a degree. Hers was simple, a seat in an orchestra somewhere and a husband and family.

The table filled up around us and we stopped chatting about us and joined in the general banter.

Once we’d all eaten our fill and in the case of some of the younger boys there, that required another visit to the barbecue, someone organised an impromptu game of volleyball.

Someone also decided that the birthday boy was going to captain one team and then the suggestion was made that since we seemed to be getting on well at the table, Anneliese should be the other.

Now, in schools when teams are being picked like this the same thing always seems to be happening, but Anneliese, to whom I had conceded first choice picked a decidedly small looking girl who looked like she wasn’t strong enough to pick up a volleyball, let alone bang it over a net that stood much higher than she did.

By the time we finished picking it became plain that we should have just decided to play girls against boys.

“I’d played a bit during PE lessons at school and one or two of the kids on each team played fairly regularly at their school, but the real star was Anneliese. I am ashamed to report that the girl’s team wiped the floor with us big strong lads.

We’d agreed on best of three fifteen-point sets. They won 15-1 and 15-0.

It was Brenda, though who rubbed the salt into the wound when she informed me and my team that we shouldn’t feel too bad, since Anneliese played for the German national youth team.

I glared at Anneliese, who merely smiled sweetly. Then she stuck her tongue out.

“You know, you shouldn’t take that out unless you’re going to use it,” I said.

“What makes you think I don’t want to?” she asked.

“Do you?”

“Find somewhere where we won’t be disturbed, and you might find out.”

“I’m sorry but it’s less than a month since my girlfriend died. I really aren’t looking right now,” I said, “but if things were different.”

“David,” she said, “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, just a friend would be nice though. Particularly one who speaks German and happens to be very handsome. And very adult for his age. Let’s just see if we can be friends and if it leads further fine, if not then we both have a new friend. I know you’re working all week and I leave next weekend, so how about it. I could use some intelligent company if you could.”

“All right then, you’ve got a deal,” I said, “what do you want to do about it?”

“We could start with dinner tonight, maybe get to know each other,” she said.

“OK, you’re on,” I said.

Before we could say anything else the caterers came out rolling a trolley with a large birthday cake on it topped by 17 candles and everybody started singing Happy Birthday.

I blew out the candles and stood back.

“There you go folks,” I said, “now that I’ve spit all over the cake, tuck in.”

“Eww gross,” a female voice said from the back.

“I haven’t really,” I said, looking straight at her, a girl of around fourteen. “But in any case, you swap more spit every time you kiss your boyfriend.”

She turned bright red and ran off.

The party wound down by six and I thanked our host and hostess for putting it on and helping to make my birthday celebration special, particularly with me being so far from home. Then I called for the car to pick me up. It was there in just a few minutes and five minutes later I walked into an empty house.

There was a note on the kitchen table from Maria telling me that she was spending the night at Kostas’ apartment and that there was dinner in the fridge which needed either three minutes in the microwave or thirty in a low oven.

I called her mobile and thanked her but telling her that I would be going out to dinner.

“What? Eating out?” she sounded shocked.

“Yes, I was invited out by someone from the party.”

“Would this person have been female?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.

After a short pause she continued.

“Judging from your silence I assume I guessed right,” she said, “David, Sandy is gone, nothing we can do, no matter how much we want it is going to bring her back. If you can find some happiness with someone else, I’ll be the happiest person there is for you. It’s time to start living again, love.”

“It’s not like that,” I said, “she’s German and going back to Germany at the weekend, so there’s no chance of anything along those lines. We’re just two people having dinner together.”

“Then go and enjoy being two people having dinner together,” she said, “just have a good time and don’t you dare feel guilty.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“So what time are you picking her up?” she asked.

“I’m not, she’s picking me up, she has her Grandmother’s car.”

“Another older woman,” she said, “what is it with you and older women?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I spoke to your mother,” she said, “all your girlfriends have been older than you. Cal, Charlie Hudson and Sandy, not one of them younger than you are.”

“There was Kathy,” I objected, “she was younger.”

“And not a proper girlfriend though, was she?”

“I suppose not,” I agreed, “you’re right, I seem to have this thing for older women. I should have realised that before Kostas snagged you.”

“Oh, you,” she exclaimed, “I should go now and let you get yourself ready. Have you any idea where you’re taking her?”

“Since she’s German, I thought the Alpen Club in Kensington.”

“Classy,” she said, “enjoy yourself and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.”

We ended the call and I walked upstairs to shower and change.

Promptly at seven, well, she was German after all, the door buzzed. I opened it and invited her in.

“Nice,” she said, as she looked around the living room, “perhaps I should have gone for the acting option instead of music.”

“Actually, it was more of a case of me falling into acting accidentally,” I replied, “rather than me deciding on it. It seems to have decided on me.”

She nodded and then looked at me, a pleasant smile on her face.

“So where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Well, I think, technically, since you’re the one driving, you’re taking me. I thought the Alpen Club in Kensington,” I replied, “a little taste of home for you and you can criticise the Bayerische Hackbraten.”

“I hope you know the way,” she said.

“Yes,” I replied, “and if we get lost I have the GPS on my phone to show us the way.”

We didn’t get lost and we managed to find a parking place less than a block away. Annie, as she had told me to call her, locked the car and we walked down to our destination, where I gave my name and we were shown into the cocktail bar to await our table. Our escort asked us for our drinks order, we both had diet Cola and left us with menus. Five minutes later a waiter appeared to take our order. We decided that we’d share a sausage platter as starter, I ordered the Munchener Schnitzel, breaded pork schnitzel with mustard and horseradish served with red cabbage and Sauerkraut, Annie went for the Bavarian Pork Hock. We opted to wait to order dessert, assuming we had room by then.

We talked through dinner, Annie telling me about growing up in what she called the cultural capital of Germany and me talking about growing up in a small former mining town in West Yorkshire.

As we talked, we realised that we’d had very similar upbringings. Both the second child of the owner of a successful small business, but while I had an older brother and younger sister, she just had an older sister and instead of the local Gymnasium, she’d gone to a private specialist music school.

Once we’d finished our main course, we didn’t feel inclined towards dessert, so I asked for and received the bill, paid and we left.

“We could go somewhere and have ice cream,” she suggested.

“There’s a Dairy Queen on Broadway, not far from my house,” I suggested, “we could go there.”

We did stop off at DQ as it was known and shared a Sundae before she dropped me off at home and we arranged to spend the day together on Sunday.

When she stopped on the road outside the house, I unfastened my seat belt and turned sideways to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, I enjoyed tonight” I said.

“I did also,” she said, “where are we going to go tomorrow?”

“If it’s warm we could do Kitsilano beach, otherwise we could just go and walk in the park.”

We arranged that she would pick me up at ten and whatever we ended up doing, we’d spend the day together, with me throwing in the caveat that I couldn’t be out late since I had to be in make-up at six-thirty on Monday morning.