Forever Yours Read Online Free PDF Page A

Judith: “Really?” She loved hearing this. “Yes. He spent the whole time singing your praises.”
    Roland: a really popular chap, completely trustworthy, nothing shifty about him, warm and open to everyone, very articulate, very persuasive, said a lot of fascinating things about architecture. And: “He didn’t take his eyes off you.” Judith: “Seriously?” Roland: “He’s crazy for you.” Judith: “Crazy?” Roland: “Absolutely.”
    Valentin: an emotional person, not your typical man, not too casual, no poser, quite soft really. Judith: “Soft?” Valentin: “No, actually not soft. He knows exactly what he wants.” Judith: “Does he?” Valentin: “He’s got the hots for you.” Judith: “I know.” Valentin: “Big time.”
    Lara: “He kept giving me this look.” Judith: “What sort of look?” Lara: “So sweet, so trustful, like a big brother, as if we knew each other inside out. And he told Valentin that he loves it when two people show how much they really belong together. And that he’s delighted he met us. And whether you always drink that much. And that he’d like to have us all over sometime. And that you’re his dream woman.” Judith: “Dream woman?” Lara: “Yes, those were his very words. How does he kiss?” Judith: “I’m sorry?” Lara: “Is it nice kissing him?” Judith: “Oh, right, kissing. Yeah, sure. Really nice, in fact.” Probably.
6
    The following Friday of a working week which had consisted of eight interim meetings with Hannes – three cups of coffee, two mugs of tea, two flutes of prosecco, one glass of Campari and orange, and countless cups overflowing with compliments – was, at 28 degrees, the warmest day of the year so far. Harnessing all her mental effort Judith somehow managed to get six o’clock to come round. After a cold shower she deliberated, for the first time since Carlo almost six months previously, over what underwear she should put on. And catching herself in deliberation she was struck by self-loathing. No, actually, she loathed Carlo for all those lost nights; she still felt embarrassed by her occasional relapse into submissiveness. Discarding all those undergarments which had been for Carlo’s eyes, she chose instead one of the white orthopaedic knickers with kidney support, which she always wore to her gynaecologist, Dr Blechmüller.
    As ever, Judith applied the make-up subtly to those chestnut-brown eyes that often led to her being mistaken for a doe. Her lips received a thin layer of shimmering red lavender-honey balsam. She spent ages blow-drying her natural-blonde hair – why “natural-blonde”? Was nature blonde? – until finally she achieved that perfectly dishevelled look. “Brash” was what they called it in styling magazines. Jeans and T-shirt had been laid out two days ago for the occasion. With her chic new black-leather jacket and cool lace-up boots she intended to show Hannes what fashion could be if one didn’t leave it merely to chance or a clearance sale. “Stunning,” she breathed onto the mirror until it misted up. She’d definitely knock the socks off Hannes.
    They went out for dinner; it was their first proper evening together, just the two of them. A new Vietnamese restaurant had opened up in Schwarzspanierstrasse. As if especially for their date. Hannes had booked for eight o’clock. Judith counted every one of the thirteen minutes she deliberately arrived late, without doubt the longest of that day. Their table was in the courtyard garden. When he saw her Hannes leaped up and flailed wildly with his arms. The other diners swivelled around to see what sort of woman could bring a man out of his state of zen tranquillity so spontaneously.
    This time Judith wasn’t the least bit nervous. She talked about her childhood in the lighting shop, how she had hitchhiked around Cambodia with her brother, Ali, and her traumatic experience of Brazilian Macumba rituals with voodoo-practising healers. She devoured her