38 Julia
38
Julia
August, 2002 – Paris
Rue Pastourelle was a twenty-minute drive from the hospital in the third arrondissement. Cream-coloured stone buildings rose four or five storeys high, and as they slowly drove along the street Julia noticed that one of the buildings had two dragons carved above the doorway.
‘That must be it.’ Julia twisted the key in her hand. ‘What if no one’s there? Or they don’t let us in?’
Daniel glanced at her. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’
‘It’s just that it will be strange to see something that up to now has been a memory in Christoph’s head. Why, are you?’
Daniel rubbed his forehead. ‘It’s like going back in time.’ He glanced at Julia. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I’d never have come here on my own.’
Daniel parked the car and they got out. Julia pressed the intercom and explained to the concierge that they needed to enquire about apartment fourteen. She was prepared to explain more but, to her surprise, he buzzed open the door. Julia and Daniel went in and found themselves in a small courtyard. Small trees in pots stood along its edges.
The concierge shuffled out of a ground-floor apartment and stared at them suspiciously. ‘Can I help you?’ he said.
‘Hello,’ Julia said. ‘I know this is a strange request, but we’re tracing the memories of someone who visited this place in the 1940s, and wondered if there’s any chance of asking the current occupant if we can please view apartment fourteen.’
The concierge frowned. ‘What do you want with apartment fourteen?’ he said.
‘This man’s father,’ she said, gesturing at Daniel, ‘stayed there during the war.’
‘It would mean a lot to him if I was able to see it,’ Daniel said. ‘He’s not well, you see, he’s in hospital, and I’d like to be able to help him make peace with the past.’
‘Ah,’ the concierge said, his face softening. ‘It’s important that the younger generation respect the past. I take it from your accent that your father was on the other side?’
‘Yes,’ Daniel said, ‘and no one could be more ashamed of that than my father. We woudn’t stay long. Just a quick look around.’
Julia held up the key. ‘This is the key he used to open the apartment.’
The concierge’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t know anyone else had one. Nobody has stayed there for years, not since I’ve been working here. It’s always been empty.’
Daniel and Julia exchanged a glance.
‘So no one’s living there now? Did you ever meet the owner?’ Julia asked.
‘No,’ the concierge said. ‘A solicitor wires the money over for the rent and my wife keeps it clean.’
‘Then, please,’ Daniel said, ‘could you show it to us?’
‘There’s not much to see,’ the concierge said. He looked them up and down, seemingly deciding to trust what they said. ‘Come on then, follow me.’
He lumbered up the steps. At last, they reached the top floor.
‘Well, here we are. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’ The concierge nodded and headed back downstairs.
‘Do you want to open the door?’ Julia asked Daniel. By rights, this moment belonged to him.
He shook his head. ‘You do it.’
He seemed nervous, as if Sylvie might be waiting behind the doorway. Julia put the key in the lock and opened the door.
She stood on the threshold, taking it all in. The door opened on to a narrow hallway, a black and white runner covering the wooden floor. A pockmarked mirror hung on the white wall and underneath it stood a small side table. The apartment smelled empty and forgotten.
Julia walked down the hallway and opened each door, Daniel following behind. The neat little bedroom contained a double bed and a mahogany wardrobe full of wooden hangers. The bathroom was tiny. The apartment reminded Julia of a guest house: spartan and neutral, with no personal touches.
She glanced around the kitchen.
‘That’s odd,’ she said, pointing to the kettle and the oven. ‘Someone has definitely used this place since the 1940s. Look at the fridge too.’
‘Not exactly the latest models, though,’ Daniel said.
He opened the door to the living room. The oak-framed sofa and armchairs were from the 1940s, but the upholstery looked like it had been patched up. An upright piano stood by the window, a fringed lampshade on top of it.
‘You know what we should do?’ Daniel said.
‘What?’
‘Instead of looking for a cheap hotel to stay in while Papa’s in hospital, we should ask the concierge if we can stay here.’
Julia looked around the room. ‘You want to stay here, where your father stayed with Sylvie?’
‘I know it sounds odd, but somehow being here makes me feel closer to him. This place was a refuge from everything that was happening in Paris. Perhaps Sylvie represented some kind of haven for him too.’
‘It’s quite antiquated,’ Julia said, ‘and a bit musty.’
‘I can get some fresh bedding and supplies,’ Daniel suggested, ‘and I’ll give the place a quick spruce-up with a duster.’
‘What makes you think the concierge will allow it?’ Julia asked.
‘I’ll go down in a minute and offer to pay him in cash. I bet he won’t refuse.’
Julia thought for a moment. It would be incredible to stay in the apartment, but staying here with Daniel? It was so small and intimate.
As if reading her mind, he smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the sofa.’
Julia blushed. ‘I wasn’t …’
‘And we’d better get some food so we can make the next recipe. What are we making?’
Julia liked the way he said we . He was really making an effort to get involved in this search. He held her gaze, reminding her of what had happened just before the book went tumbling to the floor, spooling back to that moment in Le Meurice when he’d kissed her. Julia swallowed and looked away.
‘Muscheln,’ she said.
The concierge was happy to let them stay there for a cash payment. He pocketed the money and asked to see their passports, insisting that he make a note of their passport numbers.
‘I like to do things by the book – well, sometimes,’ he said with a wink, ‘just in case the mystery owner should ever enquire, but I doubt anyone will bother you. The place has lain empty for decades. The gas and electric should work, but the phone line has been disconnected. You can use mine if you need to.’
Later, before they got back to the apartment with the shopping, they stopped at the concierge’s apartment to call Christoph. The concierge went to watch television in the living room, leaving Julia and Daniel in the hallway. Julia spoke to the nurse in charge first. She passed on the telephone number in case of an emergency, then waited for Christoph.
The line crackled. ‘It’s me, Julia,’ she said.
‘Did you find it?’ Christoph said. His voice sounded far away.
‘Yes.’
‘What’s it like?’
‘Old-fashioned. There’s an upright piano in the living room. I can’t imagine how you got it up the stairs.’
‘A piano?’ Christoph said, vaguely. ‘I don’t remember that. Is there any sign of Sylvie?’
‘Not yet. A few objects suggest that someone lived here a couple of decades ago, but there’s no clue as to who that was.’
‘Will you be all right there alone?’
‘Oh,’ Julia said, her face growing hot, ‘I’m not alone. Daniel’s here. We’re going to stay here now we’ve checked out of Le Meurice.’
‘Ah, that’s good.’ He coughed. ‘Well, let me know how you get on. Before you go, can you put him on for a minute?’
Daniel put the handset to his ear.
‘ Hallo, Papa ,’ he said. ‘ Ja, natürlich.’ He glanced at Julia. ‘ Sicher. ’
He put the phone down and sighed.
‘What did he say?’
‘That he’s glad I’m getting involved, and to look after you.’ His voice sounded flat.
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘He sounded factual, like he was ticking things off a list before it was too late. There wasn’t much emotion behind it.’
‘He’s exhausted.’
Daniel shrugged. ‘Maybe. It’s not like I’ve given him any cause to invest in our relationship, but maybe that will change now I’m helping you.’ He gave her a brief smile.
They thanked the concierge and went up the stairs to the apartment. While Daniel went back down to get their suitcases out of the car, Julia put the shopping away.
By the time Daniel came back, lugging the two heavy cases, Julia was lifting a box out from the back of one of the kitchen cupboards.
‘Look what I’ve found,’ she said. She heaved the box on to the table. ‘A pile of musical scores. Isn’t that typical?’ She glanced at the box. It looked promising. ‘Let’s have a look before we start cooking.’
‘But I’m starving,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m not sure I can wait until we’ve cooked something. We could just get a takeaway.’
Julia shook her head and smiled. ‘A few months ago, I’d have said yes. But I’ve started to enjoy cooking. These recipes aren’t about getting fed. They’re about reconnecting with the past. And it’s been soothing to use my hands for something other than playing the piano. You can nibble on a baguette while we cook.’
Daniel glanced at the recipe book. ‘You’re right. The recipe book is why we’re here.’
‘Exactly.’ She picked it up. ‘This is the recipe for mussels.’
Daniel peered at Sylvie’s handwriting. ‘What does that say?’
‘It says: Good for taking your mind off things. Use white wine in the broth. Afterwards, leave time for love .’
‘I see.’ Daniel smiled slowly. ‘And are we following this recipe to the letter?’
Julia blushed, her eyes mirroring his spark. ‘Let’s just focus on the cooking, shall we?’ She set the mussels in a large bowl full of water.
Daniel opened a bottle of wine and poured two large glasses. Julia gulped hers down, glancing at him. A sense of expectation hovered in the room.
Daniel rolled up his sleeves, his tanned forearms flexing in readiness. ‘What shall I do?’
‘You could slice the onions,’ Julia said, handing him a knife and a chopping board.
‘I’ve always wanted to do this.’ He steadied the knife and attempted to cut the onion at lightning speed. Pieces went all over the counter. He smiled sheepishly. ‘It looks easier on TV.’
‘Maybe you just need more practice,’ she said. His smile was infectious. It was fun cooking with Daniel.
Julia squeezed past him to the bowl of mussels. For a moment, her body pressed against his.
‘Sorry,’ she said, blushing.
He smelled so familiar; that woody, fresh scent that was like a second skin. She glanced at him. In the tiny kitchen, he was close enough to touch, close enough to … She drained the mussels, pushing the thought away.
‘What shall I do with these onions?’ he said.
Julia checked the recipe book. ‘If you could find a large saucepan with a lid and a heavy base. We need to fry them.’
His arm brushed her waist as he moved past her, sending a charge through her body.
‘There’s not much space, is there?’ he said, reaching into the cupboard and taking out a casserole dish.
He added some oil to the dish and heated it up, then tipped in the onions and leaned against the counter. His eyes swept over her like a breeze.
‘Do you remember in Frau Linden’s allotment when I asked you to come away with me?’ he said.
Julia’s breath tightened. Why bring that up now?
‘Yes,’ she said hesitantly.
‘I imagined us doing stuff like this: hanging out, cooking, seeing places.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘But I think you thought I was trying to drag you away from the piano.’
Julia added the salt, peppercorns, bay leaves, butter and a glass of wine to the pot, pondering his words. She didn’t want to remember that day.
‘I was nervous about the recital. I couldn’t think beyond it,’ Julia said. She wiped her hands on the tea towel. ‘The piano was my passion. I’d devoted my life to it. You didn’t seem to understand that.’
‘I was too blinded by what I wanted,’ Daniel said. ‘I should have supported you more. It must have been a big deal to come to Bonn and study with Papa. A lot of pressure too, with the recital and everything.’
Julia tipped in the mussels, stirred them with a wooden spoon and pressed the lid down firmly. ‘It might have made a difference if you’d acknowledged that at the time,’ Julia said. ‘Instead, you issued an ultimatum: the piano or you. I’d only just met you. My dreams of a piano career had been with me all my life.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sorry I was too immature to see that. There was a lot I didn’t see. It took me far too long to realize how well respected Papa was in the music world. I only saw him perform once or twice; I can barely remember it. It seemed such a chore at the time. I wish I’d appreciated it more.’
‘I never got the chance to see him live, but I used to listen to his recordings for hours in my bedroom,’ Julia said. ‘Meeting him after the concert in Frankfurt was amazing, and when he wrote to invite me to stay with him in Bonn I literally screamed the house down with excitement. My sister, Anna, thought I’d gone mad.’ She smiled, remembering back. ‘I’d left music school a few years before, college friends were getting recording contracts and deals, but my career had stalled. Christoph’s offer to mentor me was a dream come true. My mum was over the moon. It made all the difference.’
They were both silent for a moment. Julia wondered what things could have been like if Daniel had understood all this sooner.
‘Well, for what it’s worth,’ Daniel said, as if reading her thoughts, ‘I think I do get it now.’
He came over and lifted the lid of the casserole dish. ‘It looks like they’re ready. You should taste the juices,’ he said, dipping in the wooden spoon. ‘After all, you’re the head chef in this operation.’ He held her chin and gently placed the tip of the spoon on her tongue. ‘Is it good?’
His touch on her skin was electric. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. She nodded. ‘Maybe a little more salt.’
For a moment she thought he was going to bend down and kiss her. But he seemed to think twice. He cleared his throat.
‘Better not let it go cold. I’ll set the table, while you add the salt and plate up.’
‘Okay,’ Julia said. Being near him was harder than she’d thought.
Daniel unearthed a candle from a drawer. The flame flickered on the table. He managed to tune the radio. Classical music played. A breeze came in through the open window. They sat down. There was silence for a moment while they both ate a few mouthfuls.
‘We did it,’ Daniel said, clinking his glass against Julia’s. ‘They taste delicious. I enjoyed cooking them.’
‘Me too. Although I did fear for your fingers when you were slicing those onions.’ Julia smiled at him. His eyes were bright in the candlelight.
‘I once tried diving for wild oysters in Sweden,’ Daniel said. ‘The water was so clear, you could see miles down.’
‘I bet it was freezing too. Did you catch any?’
‘A couple, but the instructor found most of them. It was an incredible experience. We ate them afterwards – they tasted like Guinness – with hunks of bread.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘Have you ever been to Sweden?’
Julia raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve performed at the Konserthuset in Stockholm. But sadly there was no time for wild oyster diving. Or to see the northern lights. I was on a flight out to Sofia two days later.’
Daniel nodded. ‘You’ve travelled too, but in a different way. Maybe you could go back and visit these places at a more leisurely pace. There’s this tiny village called S?rkimukka by the Lainio River. There’s no light pollution and the view of the aurora borealis is breathtaking. You’re surrounded by forest and snow – it’s like being at the end of the world.’
‘One day I’d like to see it.’ Julia got a glimpse of how much fun it would be to travel with Daniel, to spend time seeing these places with him. She wondered if he felt it too.
‘I hope you will,’ Daniel said, his gaze lingering on her. He topped up her glass. ‘Can you believe we’re sitting here like this? After six years, you’re finally having dinner with me.’
Julia smiled. ‘It’s been a long time.’
After the meal was finished, Daniel filled the sink with soapy water while Julia carried the bowls and glasses over.
‘Once,’ Daniel said, ‘when I was little, Papa covered a glass in bubbles and rubbed his finger around the rim. The room was filled with the most amazing sound.’
He tried it with one of the wine glasses. A perfect note sang out.
‘You try,’ he said to Julia.
She rubbed the glass but couldn’t make the sound.
‘Like this …’ Daniel said.
He stood behind her and took hold of her hand. The length of his body pressed against her back. Time seemed to stand still. Gently, he guided her fingers over the rim until a note hummed.
‘That’s amazing,’ she said.
Daniel turned her around to face him. His eyes were dark and serious.
‘When you wouldn’t come away with me, I said you were selfish, do you remember?’
‘Yes.’ Hearing the words, it hurt all over again.
He clasped her hands. ‘It was me who was selfish. I was stupid and young and angry at the world. I took that out on you because I once again saw someone I loved turning away from me, but I was the one pushing you. I’m so sorry, Julia. I want to show you I’ve changed, that I do understand the mistakes I made. I want there to be only good memories between us from now on.’
That argument had been the prelude to what happened at the recital. It was hard to just forgive and forget.
Julia glanced down at the linoleum floor. ‘I don’t know, Daniel, I can’t just forget how you treated me at the recital, or before that. I believe you want to do things differently this time, but you have to realize I need to take this slowly. It’s not easy for me to let people in once, let alone twice.’
She eased herself out of his arms and glanced at the table. The candle had nearly burned down.
He nodded, taking in her words. ‘Of course. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, not like I did last time.’
‘It wasn’t just you,’ Julia said. ‘I realize that I did prioritize the piano over everything else, which didn’t help. Then you stirred up all these feelings in me and, back then, I didn’t know what to do when there was so much else going on. There’s just a lot of bad memories.’
‘Well, I don’t want you to worry right now. You’ve done so much for Papa, and you’ve got the problem with your hands weighing on you. I just want to be here for you, and hopefully, over time, you’ll see you can trust me.’
‘I hope so, Daniel,’ Julia said. ‘I want to.’
He touched her shoulder. ‘Come on. I’ll clear the kitchen up and you go and get some rest.’
Julia smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘All right. Thank you.’
As she left the kitchen, she glanced back at him. He had already turned back to the sink and was washing the bowls. Julia felt a tiny bud of hope. Perhaps it would be possible to get over the past and start again.