Marlene Read Online Free Page B

it gets cold.”
    As I gulped down the now-lukewarm coffee, she regarded me with that disconcerting blend of sincerity and insight that made me think she could read my deepest thoughts.
    “Have you ever been to a cinématographe ?” she abruptly asked.
    “A what?” Her question was so disconcerting, I had no idea what she meant.
    “A moving picture. A flicker.”
    I knew the term but had never seen one. Mutti did not approve.
    “You haven’t. Marvelous! There’s one near here. It’s not grand like those in Berlin, but not as expensive, either. It’s in a cabaret hall, where they show flickers on weekday evenings. Would you like to go? I adore the cinema. I believe it’s the new entertainment for our modern age, which will make even the theater seem passé. They’re showing Der Untergang der Titanic . Do you know what it’s about?”
    I nodded. “The Titanic sank after striking an iceberg.” I remembered because when it happened two years earlier, every newspaper boy had blared the headline for days on end.
    “Indeed. Many lives were lost. This moving picture is supposed to be amazing. Continental-Kunstfilm in Berlin produced it. They’re building entire studios dedicated to the cinema.” She gestured to the waiter for the check. “If we hurry, we can make the first showing.”
    I knew I should decline, thank her for the coffee and advice, and makemy way back before it was too late. Liesel would worry. She’d tell Mutti I’d been late coming home, and—
    Mademoiselle ladled coins onto the platter with the bill and stood, holding out her hand. “Quickly, Marlene. Before we miss the Stadtbahn!”
    How could I resist? Grasping her hand, I let Mademoiselle Bréguand lead me astray.
    I WEPT.
    I couldn’t help it, my sorrow and amazement overcoming me as the grainy images on the warped sheet hung on the wall as a screen came to life, depicting a titan lost at sea, the forlorn men waiting on deck while the orchestra played and the tragic women huddled in lifeboats, witnesses to catastrophe. At one point, I even grabbed Mademoiselle’s knee, so overwhelmed that I forgot we were in public, albeit in a darkened hall that stank of beer and stale cigarettes, with others seated around us, their gasps and whispered commentary enhancing the mute display.
    Afterward, I was in a daze.
    “Wasn’t it sublime?” Mademoiselle’s face was luminous. “I want to be there one day.”
    “On the Titanic ?” I managed to say, trying to shake off the sensation of being stranded on the open sea, watching my loved ones sink under cold black water.
    “No, silly. Up there. On the screen. I want to be an actress; it’s why I left Paris to come here. I’m working as a teacher until I earn enough to rent a room in Berlin. It’s terribly expensive to live in Berlin these days—it’s the fastest city in the world and I need extra money to pay for my rent and dramatic classes.” She took my hand again as we waited for the overhead Stadtbahn tram. “Now, we both have secrets to keep. I’ve just told you mine.”
    I longed to ask her if there was someone she loved or missed, whom she’d left behind in France to pursue her dream. But I couldn’t untangle the words from my mouth, and all too soon we reached the boulevard, wherethe new electrical lighting shed a sulfuric glow over the populace as they milled about the beer gardens and cafés.
    We hurried toward the shuttered school.
    By the gates, she halted. “I live this way,” she said, motioning to a side street that wound between ramshackle older buildings. “But I can accompany you home and explain why you’re late.” Her mischievous smile crinkled her mouth. “We’ll have to say you didn’t finish your assignment in time. It might mean your mother will be displeased.”
    Displeasure, I thought, was the least I could expect.
    “There’s no need. She’s working late today. She might not be home yet.” Though it seemed as if an eternity had passed, the picture