Your Perfect Year(103)
“No,” Leopold replied. “Tim’s thirteen, Sarah fifteen. And before your eyebrows disappear from the top of your head, yes, I was a father late in life.”
“At least you are a father,” Jonathan replied grimly.
“You still could be.”
“Hmph.”
“It’s true. There must be someone ready to snap up a filthy-rich eligible bachelor with a villa by Innocentia Park and his own publishing house.”
“Let’s leave the publishing house out of this.”
“Okay. So, back to women. What happened with your ex-wife?”
“What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”
“You just said that all the women who were important to you simply vanished into thin air. Did she disappear too?”
“Tina? No, she’s still around, happy and in the best of health with her second husband and their daughter. She sends me a New Year’s card every January first.”
“How nice of her.”
“Isn’t it? If we forget the fact that her second husband, Thomas, used to be my best friend. Personally, I think her attentions are more the result of a guilty conscience.”
“So what’s Tina to you now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, seeing as you’ve only just mentioned her, and only after I asked, she hardly seems to be among your ‘important’ women.”
“Of course she is!”
“You sure?”
“I was married to her, wasn’t I?”
“You’re the owner of a publishing house, but you’re not really interested in that.”
“Honestly!” Jonathan jumped up from the bench. “I think you’re taking this all a bit far!”
Leopold smiled innocently. “If it’s true, it hits home.”
“I . . . I . . . I . . .” Words failed him.
“Come on, sit back down, idiot.”
Jonathan N. Grief sat down, although he really couldn’t explain why he didn’t just leave without another word.
“Now, then, scout’s honor,” Leopold continued. “Did you love Tina? Really and truly, from the bottom of your heart?”
“Yes!”
Leopold looked at him wordlessly, that provocative innocent smile still on his lips.
“Well, I was very fond of her.”
“Fond of her?” Leopold slapped his thighs. “You’re telling me you were fond of your wife? And then you wonder why she ran off with another man?”
“Things were good between us.”
“Obviously not as good as you thought.”
Jonathan thought for a moment. “Maybe,” he conceded eventually. His anger returned. “But regardless of that, to fool around with my best friend was the worst! It broke my heart.”
“Oh? It wouldn’t have hurt so much if it had been someone different?”
“Of course not!”
“Well, it’s not so bad, then.”
“What do you mean, ‘it’s not so bad’?”
“This whole business. You’re suffering not from a broken heart but a bruised ego. That’s much easier to deal with. All you need is willpower.”
“Thank you for the psychoanalysis!”
“You’re welcome, Herr Grief.”
They sat in silence on the bench for a while longer, looking out over the water. Each stubbornly refused to say a word.
A paddle steamer full of day-trippers chugged down the Isebek Canal. Jonathan and Leopold watched it go by. Two rowboats, a kayak, and a paddleboat passed them; neither man commented. It was only when Jonathan saw a swan making its way along the bank that he cleared his throat.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t really love her. And that’s probably the reason she left. It seems that it’s her leaving me for Thomas that pained me the most.”
“You see!” Leopold clapped him on the shoulder. “It wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“It was cheaper than my life coach, anyway.”
“Your what?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jonathan waved dismissively. “Anyway, if I compare how I felt earlier—when I saw that woman—with when I first met Tina, it’s . . . it’s the difference between day and night.”
“Okay. Then we have to find her.”
“That would be too good to be true.”
“If you ask me, we have two options.”
“Which are?”
“Either we hang around the Lütt Café for as long as it takes until she turns up there again. That is, provided the owner doesn’t take out an injunction forbidding us from going within fifty yards of the place.”
“Or?”
“Or we follow your theory, that it’s all somehow related to the diary. We can search it for more clues.”
“I far prefer the second option.”
“Have you got it with you?”
“Of course.” Jonathan reached into his pocket and took out the Filofax.
Leopold opened it. “Look, this is great!” he said enthusiastically. “This evening, we’re going for a crawl through the red-light district, having a night on the town until six in the morning. At dawn, we’ll get ourselves a prawn sandwich at the fish market. A wonderful idea, as ever!”