Life After Forty Read Online Free Page A

time. It doesn’t just come by itself, you know.
    I heard the horrible voice in my head.
    In a crisis, my sister wrote lists, while I would have a dialogue in my head between two women’s voices. One was out to cause trouble, and the other to calm me down. For years the two voices had made themselves heard whenever I felt helpless and was alone.
    Our mother had gone to great efforts not to mollycoddle her three children. Which meant there was a certain gruffness in the way she had brought us up. On the other hand, she was always very optimistic and could sometimes be very tender. She had a hyphenated name, which had made a great impression on me as a child. Edith-Charlotte. So when I heard the voices for the first time, I named the mean one Edith and the gentle one Charlotte.
    I pulled up a chair, put my feet up, and lit a cigarette. For the first time in weeks, the voices managed to find some space in my head.
    You’ve never lived so well. A great apartment, chic furniture, right in the center of town. Life’s really starting to get exciting, said Charlotte.
    Exciting. Sure. You’re almost forty and starting all over again , answered Edith.
    I took my glass and sat down on the new sofa. Ligne Rosé. Delightful.
    Even the sofa. You’ve wanted one like that for years. Bernd didn’t; he preferred leather because otherwise you’d see the cat hairs.
    My cats. I felt a pang of longing. I hadn’t seen them since I left.
    Leaving.
    My mind went back to that day two weeks ago. Karola’s birthday.
    I’d driven home in a daze. On the way, thoughts and images rushed into my head thick and fast. Antje, who would have had no way of knowing what my apartment was like. Bernd’s bad mood as I went off to the party. Antje, who hadn’t been in touch with me for weeks despite knowing the state I was in. Bernd saying, “It’s about me, not you.” Ines’s suspicion: “It sounds to me like there’s another woman.”
    It was like I’d knocked over a domino. More and more situations occurred to me that had seemed odd but I had never thought any more of. The fact that Bernd had never been able to remember my mobile number, but phoned Antje from the car when we were running late. The fact that Antje, whom I used to speak to about my marital problems on our frequent trips to the sauna, had always pushed me to separate from him.
    I couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming.
    I drove along like I was on autopilot and only became aware of my surroundings again as I parked in the driveway. I turned the engine off and just sat there. Bernd’s car was there, so he must be too. Of course, Antje would have phoned him right away, so he would have had time to make up some new stories for me.
    I started the car again, put it in reverse, turned around, and drove to Marleen’s. When I parked in front of her house, she saw me through the window and was standing at the door by the time I had crossed the yard. She called out, “Perfect timing. I’ve just put some coffee on.”
    She looked at my face.
    “What’s happened?”
    “I’ve just come from Karola’s birthday party.”
    “Oh. And? How was it?”
    “What do you know?”
    “Why don’t you come in first.”
    A little later, we were sitting in the kitchen. Marleen talked, and I listened, feeling colder and colder.
    Marleen had seen Bernd and Antje in a pub together the week after our separation. They’d only had eyes for each other and hadn’t noticed her. Marleen thought it was strange, so she drove to her ex-husband’s and grilled him for information. Adrian stayed silent at first and didn’t want to say anything; after all, Bernd was his best friend. Eventually though, he gave in to Marleen’s persistent questioning.
    Their affair had started as long as four years ago when we bought the house and started to renovate it.
    At the time, I was touched by and thankful for Antje’s enthusiasm to help. I had a very busy schedule with work, and she sacrificed her three-week vacation