Waiting for Sunrise Read Online Free PDF

Jesus, God, no, Herrgott Sakra , I can’t stand it. So I went to a café and drank schnapps.’
    ‘Why don’t you forget dinner, like Barth? Then you don’t have to see her.’
    ‘The regiment is paying for everything. Not me.’
    Traudl came back in with a plate of black, sliced bread and some soft creamy cheese.
    ‘Thank you, my little mongoose.’
    Traudl seemed about to say something but thought better of it, curtsied and left by the service door.
    Wolfram leaned forward.
    ‘Lysander – you know you can mount Traudl if you give her twenty crowns. Yes?’
    ‘Mount?’
    ‘Possess her.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ Lysander calculated quickly: twenty crowns was less than a pound.
    ‘I do it a couple of times a week. The girl’s short of money – she’s actually quite agreeable.’ Wolfram put his cigarette out in the ashtray, spread cheese on his bread and began to eat. ‘Big friendly country girl, they know a few special tricks, those girls – just to tell you, in case you felt like it.’
    ‘Thanks. I’ll bear it in mind,’ Lysander said, a little bemused at this revelation. What would Frau K say if she knew about these goings-on? He would look at Traudl with new eyes.
    ‘You look surprised,’ Wolfram said, munching on his bread and cheese.
    ‘Well, that’s because I am. I had no idea. In this place of all places – the Pension Kriwanek – it’s very deceptive.’
    Wolfram pointed at him with his knife.
    ‘This place – this Pension Kriwanek – is just like Vienna. You have the world of Frau K on top. So nice and so pleasant, everybody smiling politely, nobody farting or picking their nose. But below the surface the river is flowing, dark and strong.’
    ‘What river?’
    ‘The river of sex.’
     
     
    6. The Son of Halifax Rief
     
    ‘I am in the stalls bar of the Majestic Theatre in the Strand. I am walking through a crowd of elegantly dressed society ladies – young and middle-aged. They gossip and chat and occasionally one of them glances at me. They pay me hardly any attention at all – even though I’m completely naked.’
    Lysander paused. He was reading to Bensimon from Autobiographical Investigations .
    ‘Yeeessss . . .’ Dr Bensimon said, slowly. ‘That’s interesting. You dreamed this last night?’
    ‘Yes. I wrote it down immediately.’
    ‘But why a theatre, I wonder?’
    ‘It’s obvious,’ Lysander said. ‘If it wasn’t a theatre – now, that would be more interesting.’
    ‘I don’t follow.’
    ‘I’m an actor,’ Lysander said.
    ‘A professional actor?’
    ‘I earn my living acting on stage, mainly in the West End of London.’
    He heard Bensimon stand up and cross the room to sit down on the end of the divan opposite. Lysander turned in the armchair – Bensimon was staring at him eagerly.
    ‘Rief,’ he said. ‘I thought it sounded familiar. Are you any relation to Halifax Rief?’
    ‘He was my father.’
    ‘My god!’ Bensimon seemed genuinely astonished. ‘I saw his King Lear in . . . Where was it?’
    ‘The Apollo.’
    ‘That’s right, yes, the Apollo . . . He died, didn’t he? Halfway through the run or something.’
    ‘In ’99. I was thirteen.’
    ‘Good lord. You’re Halifax Rief’s son. How extraordinary.’ Bensimon gazed hard at Lysander as if seeing him for the first time. ‘I think I can spot a resemblance of sorts. And you’re an actor as well, goodness.’
    ‘Not as successful as my father – but I earn a fairly decent living.’
    ‘I love the theatre. What was the last play you were in?’
    ‘ The Amorous Ultimatum .’
    ‘Don’t know it.’
    ‘By Kendrick Balston – drawing-room comedy. It’s just closed after four months at the Shaftesbury. That’s when I came on here.’
    ‘Goodness . . .’ Bensimon repeated, nodding slightly, as if something had been revealed to him. He went back to his desk and Lysander looked at the silver bas-relief. He was becoming very familiar with it, he felt, even if this was only his