A Parachute in the Lime Tree Read Online Free

reddened mouth was like a wound on her pale face, and he felt a sudden rage at himself for living on dreams when real life was there for the taking. He smiled at her and she returned it. He nodded and she returned that too. And sure enough, when he left the hotel on the way to the Deux Pigeons, there she was in the alleyway, waiting for him.
    He’d made love to so many girls since Elsa went, desperate to find her in a mouth, a strand of hair. These encounters always followed the same sequence: hope, desire, relief, disgust. But it never seemed to stop him. He closed his eyes tight as she fumbled at his buttons. He felt himself harden as she guided him inside her. Elsa was there, as she always was, running ahead of him all the way to the top of the hill. He had almost reached her when she dipped over the other side and the sun caught him and he was blinded a moment. He opened his eyes and Elsa disappeared. He bashed his hand against the rough wall behind Delphine’s head. When he pulled away from her, her mouth was still open, her eyes blurred. She rearranged herself, clutching at her blouse, pulling down her skirt. She said nothing when he pressed the money into her hand, turned away when he reached out to smooth down her hair. His anger frightened him, the desolation when he opened his eyes and she was still not Elsa. He tried to say something to make amends but she was already gone.

    As he opened the door of the Deux Pigeons there was the familiar waft of hair oil and cigarette smoke. The crew were sitting together, as they always did. Joachim called out to him and by now the idea of jumping seemed like treachery. The others told tales of the idiots they’d had to put up with while Oskar and Joachim were away. Everyone laughed, even Werner, who was never known for merriment. Oskar rocked back on the frail café chair and let the men’s voices wash over him. Next thing, Joachim was in his face, clicking his fingers to demand his attention. ‘Come on, Oskar, stay with us.’ He turned back to the others, and continued his story. ‘She was a peach, and her sister was even lovelier. Next thing I knew, I was walking through the centre of Dresden with one on each arm. I tell you, back home, this uniform works like a charm. What do you say, Oskar?’
    ‘Oh, I’d give Herr Göring the credit, Joachim, wouldn’t you?’
    ‘You know they say he can’t get it up any more,’ Joachim said, ‘It takes three at a time to blow that whistle.’
    Werner’s face reddened. He muttered something about morale.
    ‘Who cares, Werner,’ said Joachim, ‘Relax, will you?’
    Werner was looking nervously over his shoulder, but Joachim wasn’t fazed. ‘He let the English get their breath back when he could have finished them off. He’s a disaster. Besides–’ Joachim gulped back his schnapps, ‘all he really cares is feathering his own nest. And what a nest!’
    ‘So he’s got somewhere he likes to go to wind down,’ said Werner. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
    ‘A dozen Old Masters on the bathroom wall, Werner. Just to watch him piss.’
    Oskar’s attention began to wander. There was a new girl behind the bar. She looked like she had sealed herself off from her surroundings. Now and then, her eyes darted to the table where Joachim and the others were sitting. When Joachim flashed his brilliant smile at her she ignored him.
    Oskar walked over to the bar on the pretext of examining the bottles ranged behind it. He could see Joachim in the mirror, making drunken gestures at him while the others laughed into their beers.
    ‘The seats at the bar are reserved for regulars,’ the barmaid said, looking over his shoulder at the crew, ‘but I suppose you lot will do as you wish.’ The expression of loathing on her face fascinated him. Most people pretended to find them tolerable, whatever they really thought.
    ‘They might be a bit loud, but they don’t mean any harm. They’re just trying to let off a bit of steam.’
    ‘My