THREE
By the time Sophia had said goodbye to Andreas (they never actually got to eat dinner) it was already half past eight. Time enough to have a bite to eat locally and take a taxi to the club. First, though, she needed to shower and dress. Out of the many outfits she had brought for the trip, she chose a hunter green mini dress with padded shoulders and split sleeves, and an all-over sequin and bead embellishment. A matching pair of four-inch heels completed the ensemble.
When she arrived at the Club Zeitgeist shortly after ten, Didi and his 'new wife' were waiting for her in the lobby. And what a new wife she was! Tall and slim, she was, as Cary Grant once put it, 'big in all the right places'. Wearing a long tight-fitting emerald green off-the-shoulder dress, she looked as if she had just stepped off the runway. Barely able to suppress a whistle of lustful approval, Sophia exchanged the first of what she hoped would be many embraces.
When she learned that her name was Romy, Sophia couldn't help recalling Romy Schneider getting up close and personal with Marlon Brando in
Last Tango in Paris
. Thoughts of dancing the night away with this blonde goddess consumed Sophia, with the tango giving way to something slower and much more intimate. Didi, dressed in open-neck white shirt and navy blue slacks, led the way to their table, which was situated right in front of the stage. The man obviously had connections, Sophia thought.
They ordered drinks and talked about the time Romy had spent in England as an exchange student a few years back at a girls' school in Devon. Her English was the equal of Didi's - her accent less pronounced and her use of idioms extensive, if a little eccentric at times. Her husband looked on with evident pride, and not a little excitement, as the two women conversed so easily, pleased that they were hitting it off so well. After a while, a sultry brunette wearing a long black sequined dress with deep slits and a plunging V-shaped neckline took the stage and started to sing in a husky mezzo voice.
'You like the entertainment?' asked Didi, in a break between numbers.
'Very much,' said Sophia, her mind racing at the possibilities that lay ahead in terms of post-entertainment activities.
'Her family comes from Turkey,' Didi said. 'She is a much sought-after singer on the club scene. We are fortunate that she is singing here tonight.'
Having noticed how Didi and the woman had exchanged nods when she assumed her position at the microphone, Sophia wondered whether something more than luck had brought her to this particular venue on this particular evening. Her suspicions were all but confirmed when the singer, Rania by name, joined Didi's table. Up close, she was older than she had appeared on stage - nearer 40 than 30. When Sophia caught herself thinking this, she laughed to herself, given the fact that she was about to turn 34 herself. She had changed into more comfortable clothes - even though she had another set in an hour or so's time - and was wearing an ivory coloured blouse and jeans.
Understandably, for someone who sang in German and Turkish, her English wasn't anything to write home about, but she was gracious enough to keep conversing in English most of the time, occasionally stopping to ask Didi or Romy for a translation. Her place on stage had been taken by what Sophia took to be a glam rock group - Peter would have known the genre - who were pleasant enough to listen to and not ear-splittingly loud. Having only had a light dinner, Sophia was happy when Didi ordered some food to share: a mixture of local fare (sausages and sauerkraut) and foreign (samosas, spring rolls and Shanghainese xiao long bao). To wash this down, since no one was mad keen on champagne, he ordered a bottle of high-end Frascati.
After a while, Rania had to go back to her dressing room to get ready and Didi checked to see if Sophia was enjoying herself. Having reassured himself on this point, he asked to be excused, as he had seen some old friends earlier and wanted to talk with them while everyone was more or less sober. Sophia was pleased with the chance to get to know a bit more about the Teutonic goddess and she was soon telling her how she met Didi. It was a couple of years ago, when he was going through his divorce. She happened to be working for an agency at a trade fair and had actually been hoping to meet a man from overseas. Typically, Didi didn't bother with these kind of events - sending staff to attend - but on this occasion, owing to the divorce proceedings, which had been dragging on and had been quite messy, he had decided to go, just to give himself a break from the litigation circus.
When Sophia asked if it had been love at first sight, Romy laughed and said that for the rest of the show she had still been looking around for 'someone better'. It took her fully a month or so to realise that she was in love with this man who was old enough, as she put it, to be her 'much older brother'. How old exactly she was, Sophia couldn't be sure, but she estimated her to be in her mid to late 20s. Neither woman made a move on the other, although Sophia could feel a palpable sexual tension between them. She wondered whether Didi insisted on being present when things first began to develop. Many men, Sophia had learned, got as much of a kick as women did out of the build-up stage of a sexual encounter. Without that stage - be it seduction, be it mutual flirting - Sophia reckoned a fling was like a dinner without a first course. And the entrée was the part of a meal that Sophia typically liked best.
Didi returned just as Rania was starting her second set. This time she was wearing a mid-length dress with sensible straps. The colour - silver - was a brave choice, Sophia thought, not because Rania couldn't carry it off, but because of her dark complexion. The more she looked at her, the more she realised what a killer body she had. At first, she had given her attention almost exclusively to her face, but now that she was showing more of her legs, she knew that she was looking at someone who worked out. For some reason, this surprised Sophia. It was then that she realised that she had been looking at her as more Turkish than German. Perhaps she wasn't even a Muslim, Sophia thought, or a nominal Muslim in the way that she herself was a nominal Christian. Surely, they have nominal Muslims? They must also have a segment of the population who take a scientific approach and are unable to take seriously their 'invisible friend'.
Sophia was brought back to the here and now by the applause that greeted the end of her set - applause she duly took part in after a brief hiatus. Looking around her, Sophia noticed that the room had filled appreciably, with people standing two to three deep at the bar that occupied the end of the room opposite the stage. Glancing at her phone, she saw the time was half past twelve. For the first time a curtain had been drawn across the stage and after a minute or so the lights began to dim. Dressed once more in her jeans, Rania slipped back into her seat between Romy and Didi, leaving Sophia on the other side of the table between the married couple.
The cabaret continued with acts of varying quality, including a Marlene Dietrich tribute artiste decked out in a black outfit and a silver top hat, whose efforts only made one yearn for the original in a von Stromberg film. At around one thirty, sensing that Sophia - not to mention his wife - were losing enthusiasm for the entertainment, Didi suggested they adjourn to their apartment on the Annastrasse. Rania made her excuses, leaving the others to hop into a taxi for the short ride to their destination.
The flat was in one of those old buildings that had survived the war more or less intact. The petitions of generations of residents meant that the old style cage door elevator remained in place. Although it would certainly have been a luxury in a 40-storey building, in an edifice with just six floors, its pedestrian pace was more than offset by the cachet it added to the ambience. To say that Sophia was excited as she made the ascent to the sixth floor would be something of an understatement. The fact that there had been no physical contact between herself and the married couple since introductions were made somehow added to the sense of anticipation she felt. Perhaps she had misread Didi's intentions, after all. She felt certain that she would find out pretty soon.
Since none of them had drunk a lot, Didi opened a bottle of cognac, which he claimed to have been saving for a special occasion. Was that a signal, Sophia wondered? Something of an inter-generational divide was displayed by the way they each took their brandy, with Didi and Sophia taking it neat and Romy preferring it on the rocks. This gave Sophia an idea: perhaps she should start referring to - or at least treating - the young wife as Didi's daughter. But then what role would she herself play? Maybe that of governess would be appropriate, she mused. There again, she thought, looking at the stunner's long blonde hair, how about that of personal assistant / dresser / 'undresser'?
Strike while the iron was hot had always been Sophia's motto. She moved from where she had been sitting to join Romy on the sofa she had hitherto been occupying alone. There was room enough for her to sit at one end opposite Romy, but instead of that she sat next to her, and close to her. Glancing at Didi, she could see that he was following her progress intently. Romy crossed, uncrossed and recrossed her legs, scarcely in order to cover her modesty - since her long dress covered everything - but more as a sign of nerves...or pretended nerves. Had the German intuited that there was nothing more likely to stoke Sophia's fires than a little display of the deer caught in the headlights on her behalf? She placed her palms primly on her knees and stared straight ahead into the night air.
'We could almost be twins,' Sophia said, as yet making no move, but speaking into her ear from almost no distance.
Romy remained silent. She might have been listening to the mother superior at a convent school, thought Sophia, a reflection which further inflamed her already simmering passions.
'Same blonde hair, same green dress. I wonder what else we share in common.'
As she spoke, she moved in even closer to Romy and whispered in her ear, 'I'm glad we're not really sisters.'
She brought her hand to the German girl's cheek and turned her face towards her. It was a very beautiful face, made more beautiful still by that fact that she as yet remained in character. Sophia felt so in control that everything started happening in slow-motion. She felt only one type of urgency, and that was the urgency not to hurry. She didn't look at Didi, even though he was in her eyeline, but she knew that his eyes were focused on her every movement, his ears open for her every utterance. Romy's wondrous face presented itself to Sophia: the high forehead, the grey-blue eyes, the full lips, the high cheekbones, the straight nose, the well-proportioned chin. Just now, Sophia's focus was on the lips, which the girl had only recently repainted in a bright cerise. Sophia ran her finger along those lips, causing them to open slightly.
