Magic Hoffmann Read Online Free PDF Page B

fingers and stood motionless, observing Fred. Then his mouth formed into a mild narrow smile, as always when he was angry about something. He had never liked the boy, something that Fred only realised much later.
    â€˜You again.’
    Fred nodded. ‘Hello Mr Schöller.’
    The click stopped, and Mr Schöller put his hands and the sleeves of his sports jacket in his pockets. Slowly he took a few steps across the room, while keeping his distance from Fred.
    â€˜When did you get out?’
    â€˜Yesterday.’
    â€˜Congratulations, if that’s the right word.’
    â€˜No idea, Mr Schöller. The main thing is it’s from the heart.’
    Mr Schöller stood still and watched Fred carefully. He was still smiling.
    â€˜And what are your plans now?’
    â€˜To drink coffee.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly. I mean of course,’ he took a sleeve from his pocket and waved it round in the air in front of him, ‘in the long term.’
    â€˜Don’t know. This and that. Maybe a teacher, then I could do my teaching practice with you.’
    â€˜Wonderful, I’m sure.’ Mr Schöller gave a dry laugh, then he looked at the floor. ‘I would like to know if you have it in mind to see Annette again.’
    Fred didn’t answer. How stupid can you get? The smile disappeared, and Fred chalked up a point. One point for wiping the smile off Mr Schöller’s face, two for making him blush, three for throwing him in to such a rage that he loses his cool, and yells at you from so close that you could see his little bald patch from above. Three points were hard to get. Fred had done it precisely five times during his school days.
    â€˜If that is the case, I’d like to ask you to desist.’
    â€˜Bad luck. I came to get Annette’s new address.’
    â€˜Then you came for nothing.’
    â€˜Hey.’ Fred raised his hand, ‘I’m a friend of your daughter. And besides, I wanted your wife to give me the address, not you.’
    â€˜You were her friend - if you can call it that.’
    â€˜How would you call it?’
    â€˜I’d say you got her mixed up in your dirty business and used her.’
    Fred gasped. ‘My God, you’re really on the ball. Maybe I’ll do my teaching practice somewhere else after all.’
    â€˜That would be advisable,’ said Mr Schöller and gestured towards the door.
    Fred was amazed. Plasterhead couldn’t really mean that. After all he wasn’t just some moron who had washed up here - he was Fred, Fred Hoffmann. He had been coming and going here for twenty years. Annette’s best friend.
    Fred looked across at the kitchen door. It was ajar. He said in a loud voice: ‘I wonder what your wife would think of how you’re moaning at me. But unfortunately she’s fallen in to the coffee machine.’
    Just then the sounds from the kitchen started up again. Mr Schöller also looked across at the doorway, and his face fell.
    Fred’s thumb was pointing at the kitchen. ‘She got lucky.’
    Mr Schöller turned round, and suddenly the parchment eyes seemed to glow. But he wasn’t angry - or at least not just angry. ‘Get out of here.’
    â€˜Not without the address.’
    When the kitchen door opened, sunlight flooded into the dingy room. Fred could see Mr Schöller wincing. Mrs Schöller appeared in the doorway, rattling cups and a coffee pot in her hands. She looked somewhat better now and was standing more or less straight. After glancing at the men, she placed the china on the dining table.
    â€˜Back already?’
    Mr Schöller hesitated. ‘The lesson has been cancelled.’
    Cups banged down on wood and were shoved in place. Mrs Schöller turned her back on them. ‘Will you join us for a coffee?’
    â€˜I was just explaining to Fred…’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜But we agreed…’
    â€˜We agreed a great