Your Perfect Year(60)

“Oh, no,” Leopold replied with a dismissive gesture. “It’s not particularly interesting. I’d rather hear something about you. I don’t know anything about you. Apart from the fact that you have an amazing house with a wonderful kitchen you don’t use. And that you throw away important documents.”

“To be honest, there isn’t really much more to say about me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, though.”

“Prove it!”

“Very well.” Jonathan took another drink of wine. “I’m the last in the line of a Hamburg publishing dynasty. So I haven’t earned most of my income—I inherited it. My father’s a tyrannical figure, but he now suffers from dementia and is mainly harmless. I haven’t seen my mother for thirty years. I’m divorced and childless, and I spend the majority of my time reading, walking, and exercising. That’s it.”

“Any hobbies?”

“I go running every day and read a lot.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What else do you do in your free time, which you clearly have a lot of?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“No idea,” Leopold replied. “Whatever you do when the world’s your oyster. Traveling, for example. Or managing some charity project or other. Sailing, playing polo, golfing—whatever people like you do.”

“The publishing house has a foundation that supports young authors, but the staff see to that. I’m afraid of horses, sailing bores me, so does golf, and since my wife left me, I haven’t had much desire to travel. I actually like spending time at home.”

Leopold stared at him expressionlessly. Then, for the second time that day, with an unmistakably ironic undertone, he added, “Wow!”

“I told you there wasn’t much to say,” Jonathan replied defensively.

“Sure,” Leopold agreed. “But so little?”

“Most people don’t live their lives like Indiana Jones.”

“There’s quite a gap between that and meaningless existence.”

“And just how meaningful is an existence in a dumpster?” Jonathan fired back.

Leopold’s eyes narrowed to slits. The relaxed atmosphere was suddenly charged with hostility, and Jonathan had the feeling his new friend was soon to become an ex-friend. He imagined him getting up and leaving the house. If Jonathan was unlucky, Leopold might even land one on him on his way out.

But nothing of the kind happened.

Instead, Leopold raised his water glass, smiled, and toasted him with a “Touché!”

“Cheers.” Jonathan picked up his wineglass and clinked it against Leopold’s.

“So, back to getting to know each other,” Leopold said after they had both drunk. “Of course, I’m itching to know what you were looking for so urgently in the recycling. It obviously wasn’t a love letter.” He winked.

“Oh, that . . .” Jonathan hesitated. And then decided to tell him. After all, Leopold had confided in him about the alcoholism, so it was only fair to return the trust. Besides, it was highly unlikely that the two of them had any mutual acquaintances, so he was unlikely to be able to do anything with the information. And even if he could, Jonathan’s intuition told him that this man was a decent guy. Battered by life, perhaps, but respectable. “Those were my publishing company’s latest financial statements, and they probably don’t look too rosy. So I was afraid that someone might find them and use the information.”

“Probably?” Leopold echoed. “The statements probably don’t look too rosy?”

“I hadn’t had a chance to look at them closely.”

“But it’s your company, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” A feeling of unease spread through Jonathan. He should have kept this to himself. Too late now. “My CEO looks after the operational side of things; I don’t . . .” He stopped.

“You don’t have a clue about it?” Leopold suggested.

“Not as such,” he conceded.

“Aren’t you interested?”

“Yes, well, I . . .” He searched for the right words. “I don’t know. I’m passionate about books. It’s just that . . .” Jonathan fell silent and looked at Leopold helplessly.

“Don’t you think you’re capable of running your own show?”

“Of course I do!” Jonathan cried. And drank another mouthful of wine.

Leopold shrugged. “Well, if it’s not that, it must be that you’re not really interested.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“It is. It’s very simple, in fact. I’ll tell you one truth: if life’s taught me anything, it’s that you should only do what excites you. Everything else is a waste of time. No one should act against their heart and their own convictions.” He slapped the flat of his hand down on the table for emphasis.

“Excuse me,” Jonathan said. “I really don’t want to offend you, but when I see where this philosophy has led you, then—”

“Wrong!” Leopold interrupted. “It’s because I’ve only recently adopted this philosophy that I’m in this predicament. I never used to act according to my convictions; I did things that made me so unhappy that I turned to drink. I threw my marriage and family to the wind, lost my job, and ended up on the street. Unfortunately, I recognized it way too late. It only really became clear to me the last time I was in the hospital. It was like scales fell from my eyes and I saw that I’d been on the wrong track for decades.”