Simon lowered his book and looked at me.
‘Oh, really? What’s up? It sounds like he’s doing great when he talks to me. Is he getting poor grades?’
‘His grades are pretty bad. He doesn’t get his assignments in on time and he’s doing the absolute bare minimum at the moment. Plus his teacher says he’s been teasing some of the younger kids in the playground. She talked about getting the school counsellor in, to address bullying.’
I waited while Simon absorbed this.
‘That’s not so good, Al. I’ll have a talk to him at the weekend. I’m sure it’s something we can straighten out. Are you okay? I wouldn’t worry. He just needs a bit of nudging in the right direction.’
‘I’m fine. It’s just a little weird, coming on the back of the suicide thing. I feel like a load of negatives are building up. I didn’t get a very good feeling at the exhibition at school. It’s still so hard to feel accepted by the community.’
‘Then it’s good you’ve decided to run this marathon. It’ll be great for you to concentrate on a goal for yourself. And Kathy will be supporting you.’
I thought of Kathy and her lifestyle. Endless shopping and lunches with the executive wives. Running was really the only thing we had in common.
‘I’ve got to get some sleep,’ he said, pecking me on my cheek.
He rolled over onto his side and turned out his bedside light.
It seemed I had been asleep but a moment when the telephone rang persistently on the bedside table. Normally a light sleeper, I dragged myself out of the somnolent depths before reaching across to the phone. The light blinking dully from the number display was enough to allow me to locate the handset in the darkness.
‘Hallo,’ I mumbled sleepily. A static crackle. I was about to return the handset to its cradle when I heard a slow intake of breath. I pushed the phone tightly to the shell of my ear, thinking I had missed something, and heard a subsequent exhalation.
‘Hello, who is this?’ I asked, senses now alert.
‘Mmm?’ groaned Simon beside me, ever the comatose sleeper.
‘Ssshh.’ I pressed the receiver harder against my head, until all I could hear was my own ragged breath roaring from the mouthpiece to my ear. I cleared my throat, and heard a click and the drone of the dial tone.
‘Wrong number,’ mumbled Simon and sank back into slumber. I squinted at the caller-identity screen on the handset. It showed ‘withheld’ which didn’t give me any clues. It could be a mobile phone.
Annoyed I had been fully awakened, I shuffled to the bathroom for a pee. The fluorescent light over the bathroom mirror blinded me. I gathered my nightie and sat on the toilet with my eyes half-closed, cursing the boys’ inconsiderateness as my thighs hit porcelain so cold it felt wet. I reversed my crouch, put the seat down, sank back down and crossed my arms on my thighs, absently studying the ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor.
I scrolled back through my messages until I reached the one I assumed was from Manfred. I didn’t have to go far as I rarely used my mobile phone. I opened the message and hovered over the choices available to me. I was about to begin keying a reply when I chose the CALL option.
‘Alice!’ He picked up on the first ring, and his voice made my earlobes tingle.
‘Hi, Manfred, I just wanted to check in with you. Make sure you’re doing okay. I’ve been thinking about you since Sunday…’ I paused, hoping my statement didn’t sound odd.
‘What a coincidence! I wanted to contact you. I have to come to Aegeri at the end of the week. For some business. Will you meet me for coffee?’
‘Umm…’ I bit my lip. This was a far cry from the guy I’d found on the bridge three days before.
‘It’s okay. I wanted to thank you again. Maybe text messages don’t come across in the right way. Please. One coffee.’
‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘How about ten o’clock on Friday at the Lido Café? It’s near the bus st—’
‘I know where that café is. Perfect. We’ll see each other then.’
As I pushed the END CALL button, I felt relieved. He sounded confident. Lively. Not like someone who would return to thoughts of taking his life.
As I pulled into a parking space in front of the café, Manfred strode towards me. He was wearing a charcoal-grey suit with a white shirt and smart maroon tie, and carried a leather attaché case under his arm. He was prepared for whatever his ‘business’ was in our quiet little alpine village, and he looked rather striking. I felt a little sloppy in my fleece jacket over a T-shirt and a pair of patched jeans, and lifted my hand to my head to smooth my hair as I felt the heat rise to my throat.
I stepped out of the car and put out my palm for a handshake. He bypassed my hand and held my elbow, kissing me boldly three times on the cheeks in the traditional Swiss greeting between friends. I blushed as he walked up the steps to the café and held the door open for me. I smiled my thanks and walked in.
The waitress recognised me and awarded me a curt nod. She glanced past me and beamed at Manfred, her eyes flicking over him in appreciation, and gave him a jovial ‘Grüezi!’
We took a table close to the window with a view towards the lake. I ordered a tea and Manfred an espresso.
‘She doesn’t seem so friendly with you,’ Manfred whispered as the waitress walked away.
‘No, I’m not her favourite person. She’s the manageress here, and the mother of twins in Leon’s class at school. They’ve been together all the way through primary school and she still holds a grudge for the things I did wrong when we first moved here. I walked the boys to school for months at first. I didn’t realise it’s taboo here. Part of the kids’ education is learning independence. You’d never let kids so young make their own way to school in England. It’s just not safe. Anyway, she reported me to the school director, and there were words. It’s amazing how someone can keep hold of a bad feeling for so long, especially one arising from something so insignificant. I think it’s more to do with the fact that I’m a foreigner. Anyway, it’s the only decent café in the village with a good view, so I tolerate her grumpiness.’
The waitress returned with our order on a tray, and placed the cups on the table. Manfred said something to her in Swiss German. At first charmed by his attention, I caught the words ‘Engel’ and ‘Menschenliebe’ and her smile faltered as she glanced at me. I cringed inside to think Manfred was explaining my good turn the previous Sunday. I was sure this woman’s imagination wouldn’t stretch to thinking of me as an ‘angel’ capable of ‘human kindness’. I concentrated on the cup in front of me, pressing as much flavour as possible out of the weak Swiss teabag.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ I said as she walked away. ‘You’re probably only making things worse for me.’
‘People need to know about your goodness, Alice.’
I glanced at him, and he smiled. I wasn’t sure whether he was joking, but I felt strangely flattered.
‘What kind of business are you doing in the village?’ I changed the subject, genuinely curious about his sudden return to confidence after wanting to take his life only days ago.
‘I have a document I needed to sign. The lawyer needed to witness it. I… he lives in a house up the hill. It’s done. I have everything I need. Everything is perfect.’
‘That’s good. I’m glad you’re so positive.’
‘You’ve made me realise