Free Woman of the Dead by Bernhard Aichner Page A

promenade, with Blum on her heels. They couldn’t be in a better place, there is almost no one else around. Blum takes a moment to get her breath back and formulate a plan. It’s happening so fast. A few moments ago, Blum had been on the point of giving up, but now she has found her quarry. She will approach Dunya when they reach the pedestrian bridge. She has until then to suppress the images flooding her mind. Suddenly she feels envy. She feels it everywhere, her heart is crying out again, the pain is back. Everything hurts. Maybe Mark had fallen in love with her. She imagines Mark and Dunya walking side by side along this promenade, sitting on a bench together, talking. Dunya pouring out her heart to him, confiding everything, showing him her innermost being. In her mind’s eye, Blum sees her naked before him. Sees him embracing this beautiful foreign woman. With every step she takes, the scenario becomes more real. Blum doesn’t want to talk to the woman any more, Blum wants her to disappear. Go away. Walk on. Blum stops, and closes her eyes.
    Why didn’t she just give the phone away? Why did she insist on listening to it all? Why does this woman have to be so beautiful? Why can’t she just talk to her and ignore the noise in her head? Why is she afraid Mark was unfaithful? Suppose he had touched Dunya? Kissed her, caressed her in her despair. Suppose Dunya had simply said yes; had accepted his understanding, his kindness, his instinctive urge to rescue. Like Blum had eight years before. Terrible things had happened to Dunya but there was more than pity in his voice. Much more. Blum is afraid of opening her eyes, afraid of following, afraid of finding out. She does it, all the same. She opens her eyes and she runs.
Dunya!
    ‘Please stop. Dunya, please. I only want to talk to you.’
    ‘Why? What do you want? How do you know my name?’
    ‘From Mark.’
    ‘Get lost.’
    ‘I’m his wife.’
    ‘You’d better get lost.’
    ‘Wait! Talk to me, just for a minute. Please.’
    ‘I’ve talked enough.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘You don’t know anything.’
    ‘I know all about it. I’ve heard the recordings.’
    ‘That bastard.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Did the two of you enjoy it? Listening in on me? Did you sit back and eat popcorn? Was it a good show?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘He told me no one would ever hear what I said.’
    ‘He never played it to anyone.’
    ‘But you’re here, right?’
    ‘I was going to delete everything on his mobile. And then I stumbled on his conversations with you.’
    ‘I’d like you to go away and never come near me again.’
    ‘I’m Blum.’
    ‘And I’m Dunya, so now get lost.’
    ‘Mark took everything you said very seriously.’
    ‘I don’t want you knowing my story.’
    ‘It’s too late for that now.’
    ‘I want you to go away.’
    ‘He believed you. And he liked you.’
    ‘Well, that didn’t do me any good. First he squeezes the story out of me, then he leaves me high and dry. He’s no different from the others.’
    ‘No, he was different.’
    ‘Then why hasn’t he come back?’
    ‘He would have come back, you really can believe me.’
    ‘He told me he’d take care of everything. He said he’d help me. So why didn’t he? Go on, tell me. Why not?’
    ‘Because he’s dead.’
    ‘What? What did you say?’
    ‘He died four weeks ago.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘In an accident.’
    ‘Please, no.’
    ‘I think of it every minute of every day. But he’s dead and he won’t be coming back. We’re on our own. Do you understand?’
    ‘How did it happen? How did he die?’
    ‘He was run over.’
    ‘What happened to the driver?’
    ‘It was a hit and run. The driver hasn’t been traced. He disappeared.’
    ‘Oh no. Please no.’
    ‘Mark died instantly.’
    ‘You’d better keep away from me.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I really did think it would be all right. Believe me, I didn’t want that to happen.’
    ‘Didn’t want what to happen?’
    ‘Didn’t want him to