Christopher's Ghosts Read Online Free PDF Page B

might have killed you.”
    “As you can see, I survived,” Paul said. “Thanks to you.”
    “What did I have to do with it?”
    “A lot. The first aid, taking me to your father, taking me home.”
    “I did it for my own sake. You owe me nothing.”
    “That’s not true.”
    She ignored the protest. She looked behind her, then behind Paul. The park was all but deserted at this hour. “We shouldn’t talk now, not here of all places,” she said.
    “But I want to talk,” Paul said. He smiled at her. He was tall for his age, but she was too, and she stood slightly above him on the hillside, so that they looked directly into each other’s eyes.
    “There are things that you should tell me,” she said.
    “I agree,” Paul said. “And vice-versa. Can we start with names?”
    “I know your name. I have known it for a long time.”
    “How? We’ve never seen each other before.”
    “I have my ways.”
    “Which are?”
    “We used to live around the corner from each other. I have always known who you are, Herr Baron.”
    “My name is Paul. I’m no baron. What shall I call you?”
    “That’s up to you.”
    “You don’t have a name?”
    “I want a new one.”
    “You want me to baptize you as well? We can use the lake.” Where did this lame witticism come from?
    “Nothing so religious as that,” she said.
    Paul wondered if she felt as awkward as he did. Her face was grave, but for the first time he saw a smile—a tiny one that lifted one corner of her mouth and changed her eyes. She was flirting with him, but doing so in a way no girl he had ever known could have imagined flirting.
    Paul said, “Okay, but first I’ll have to know you better. What should I call you in the meantime?”
    “‘Miss’ will be fine.”
    “No. It doesn’t suit you.” He paused, then said, “Rima. Do you like that name?”
    “Yes,” she said. “I do.”
    “Then Rima you are.”
    She looked at her watch, not a wristwatch but a round gold lavalier pinned to her blouse. “We’ve been out in the open long enough,” she said. “Meet me tomorrow at half-four in the ice cream place in the Ausburgerstrasse.”
    Half-four . It was the first mistake in English she had made. Paul didn’t correct her.
     7 
    Paul rode home by way of the stables. As he pedaled, horses moved apart. He rode through them, and after a couple of hundred meters, to his delight, saw his mother. She was mounted but she had stopped her horse to speak to somebody on the other side of the railing that enclosed the bridle path. This was no surprise. The morning ride was a social occasion and Lori had many equestrian friends. The person she was talking to had his back to Paul. He wore a brown fedora, cocked slightly to one side, and despite the warm weather, a long black leather coat with a belt. A second man, stumpy and stolid and clearly a subordinate, stood by. Lori’s Lipizzaner shied. The man turned, keeping eye contact with Lori, and Paul saw that the man was Stutzer. He was speaking to Lori in an unsmiling way, and he was doing all the talking. She was perfectly silent, but Paul, who knew her every expression, could tell that she was resisting whatever suggestion the man was making to her. Paul thought that he understood what was happening. Her beauty created embarrassing situations. Paul had been a witness to this all his life. For his mother, this encounter with a man she loathed was hateful. Paul did not want to make it worse by interfering, but he had a duty to protect his mother. Why did she not just ride away? Then Paul saw that the smaller man, the assistant, had hold of the Lipizzaner’s bridle. The horse, a coal-black animal, obeyed him; he must know about horses. Anger rose in Paul’s chest. A uniformed Berlin policeman stood on the sidewalk on the other side of the railing, watching the scene. Not far away, another policeman loitered. They didnot interfere as they would have done if anyone else was bothering a respectable woman. Paul