I think I’ll go home, said Jill. I don’t have as much stamina as you.
Do you want me to go with you? asked Ursina.
Jill shook her head. I can make my own way.
She took a shuttle bus down to the train station. There were a couple of tired characters on the bus, one or two of them looked unwell. No one spoke, silence was a tonic at the end of the noisy night. Jill felt very sober and clearheaded, as though she had woken up from a long period of unconsciousness. At the station she got coffee from a machine and sat down on the platform in the sun. She looked at her filthy feet. The bottom of her skirt was dirty as well. In the train she thought about what Ursina had said. She felt like a child found in a game of hide-and-seek. After the breathless excitement of being hidden, it felt like a relief, she could move freely again, everything had just been a game. For six years she had hidden herself up here and not even noticed that no one was looking for her. Over time she had felt so comfortable in her hiding place that it felt like the whole of life. Only in spring, when the snow refused to melt, did she sometimes think of moving back to the city. Perhaps the reason she had asked Hubert to put on a show at the cultural center was so that he could get her out of this life that wasn’t hers. That’s what she would say to him if he came back: You should do whatever you want, you don’t owe me anything.
She transferred onto the bus. The driver said good morning and something about the weather. In the front row sat an old woman with a traveling bag, who was the only other passenger. She and the driver talked in Romansh. Jill didn’t understand. She was thinking that before long the larches would change color, that the first snow would come soon, and then stay until March or April. She couldn’t imagine getting through another winter here alone, the cold days and long nights.
The bus stop was about two hundred yards from her house. As Jill walked along the road, she mapped out the day ahead. She would shower and wash her hair, then sit in the garden with cappuccino and a cigarette and read the Sunday paper. She probably wouldn’t eat anything at lunchtime, the vegetarian dish was still heavy in her stomach, and she had a funny taste in her mouth. Perhaps she would go into the office briefly in the afternoon and take care of something, just so as not to feel so useless, and maybe have a little chat with someone. The new guests would be standing around uncertainly, because they didn’t yet know their way around the building and weren’t used to the rules of the club. We all call each other by first names. The pool? That’s along the corridor and down the stairs. Dinner is anytime after half past six. The winner of the Trivial Pursuit quiz will be announced afterward. I hope you have a very enjoyable stay here. She tried to work out what time Hubert might arrive, if he set off early, if he breakfasted first with Astrid and Lukas, if he waited until after lunch.
Jill stood under the shower, washed the dirt off her feet, and suddenly she knew she would give up her job and leave here. Not immediately, there was no hurry. Perhaps Hubert would come with her and they would make a new start together somewhere, but her decision had nothing to do with his. The game was over, she was free and could go anywhere.
About the Authors
PETER STAMM is the author of the novels Seven Years, On a Day Like This, and Unformed Landscape, and the short-story collections We’re Flying and In Strange Gardens and Other Stories. His prize-winning books have been translated into more than thirty languages. In 2013 he was shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize. He lives in Switzerland.
MICHAEL HOFMANN has translated the work of Franz Kafka, Joseph Roth, and Peter Stephan Jungk. He is the author of several books of poems and a book of essays, Behind the Lines, and is the editor of the anthology Twentieth-Century German Poetry. In 2012 he was awarded the Thornton Wilder Prize for Translation by the American Academy of Arts and Letters. He lives in Florida and London.