Free The Drinker by Hans Fallada Page B

flirting with the young bricklayer, who was doubtless a lover of hers. After the wild abandon of a few moments ago, a deep depression fell over me, I gnawed my lips and shot suspicious glances at the neighbouring table, where they were taking no notice of me at all. My suspicions were aroused, I wondered whether Dr Mansfeld had turned up here by mere coincidence in the course of going the round of his practice, or whether Magda had asked him to come. I racked my brains to remember whether in my drunkenness I might have given Magda the name of this little resort of mine, or whether I might have let slip some indication so that it was not difficult to trace—but I could not remember. The second gentleman seemed familiar to me but I couldn’t quite place him.…
    I could have done with another drink, and the brandy bottle was close enough at hand, but in front of the two guests at the next table I did not dare to fill my glass. I told myself that in view of the state of this table and my wild behaviour of a short time ago, nothing could make matters worse, and yet I still didn’t dare.
    At last Elinor came back into the bar-room. I called her to me and quietly asked her for the bill. While she totted up a row of figures on her pad, standing bent over me and hiding me rather from the view of the next table, I swallowed down two or three quick mouthfuls. Then I carefully corked the bottle and thrust it into my brief-case. Elinor gave a sharp glance at what I was doing and, indicating the next table, she whispered with raised eyebrows: “Friends?” I merely shrugged my shoulders. The bill was so steep that it took nearly all my money down to the last mark, and left only a quite inadequate tip for Elinor. She looked at me again with raised eyebrows, and whispered: “Cleaned out?”
    I answered just as quietly, “I know where to get more. Till the next time, ma reine.”
    She nodded lightly.
    Now I had to get up and walk, under the watchful eyes of the gentlemen at the next table. I took my brief-case and made sure in advance on which hook my hat was hanging so that I shouldn’t have to search round for it as I went out. Then I stood up. I felt I could manage. I would have to move slowly and very carefully, and then it would be all right. After all, I only needed to get out of the village to one first sheltering bush, or better still, a happy thought!—I only needed to lock myself up in the toilet here, and I could sleep as long as I wanted to. I had fresh provisions with me.
    Already I had politely said “Good evening” to the next table as I got up, and now I was at the door only a step from salvation, when a voice behind me said: “Oh, just a moment, Herr Sommer!”
    It gave me such a start, I nearly fell.
    “I beg your pardon?” I cried in an unnecessarily loud voice. The doctor had taken hold of my arm and supported me.
    “Did I startle you? I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
    “Oh, it’s nothing, nothing,” I said, embarrassed. “It must have been this wretched carpet I stumbled over.…” And I looked crossly at the carpet which lay quite smooth.
    “I only wanted to ask you, Herr Sommer,” Dr Mansfeld went on, “if I might perhaps offer you a lift home in my car.”
    He paused, and then said smilingly, “We’ve been celebrating a bit, haven’t we? Never mind, we all like to do that occasionally. But getting home might be a bit hard going, mightn’t it? So you come with us.”
    He took me amiably but firmly under the arm. The other gentleman had paid and now he came over to us. “May I introduce you?” said the doctor, “Herr Sommer—Dr Stiebing, our district medical officer.”
    With that he took me out of the inn and over to the car. I followed him like a sheep to the slaughter—the district medical officer!
    So it was not chance, after all. It was a cleverly laid trap! That damned Magda! She wanted to get the better of me. She acted fast, I must admit. But I was clever too, I would have to