Edge of Eternity by Ken Follett Read Free Book Online Page A

wearing plain black pants, a white T-shirt, and a tan windbreaker. He looked cool, he thought, a little like James Dean, but not a gang member. However, the guitar might get him noticed. It was the ultimate symbol of what they called ‘American unculture’ – even worse than a Superman comic.
    He crossed the road, careful not to look at the Vopos. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw one staring at him. But nothing was said, and he passed without stopping into the Free World.
    He caught a tram along the south side of the park to the Ku’damm. The best thing about West Berlin, he thought, was that all the girls wore stockings.
    He made his way to the Minnesänger club, a cellar in a side street off the Ku’damm where they sold weak beer and frankfurter sausages. He was early, but the place was already filling up. Walli spoke to the club’s young owner, Danni Hausmann, and put his name down on the list of competitors. He bought a beer without being questioned about his age. There were lots of boys like himself carrying guitars, almost as many girls, and a few older people.
    An hour later the contest began. Each act performed two songs. Some of the competitors were hopeless beginners strumming simple chords but, to Walli’s consternation, several guitarists were more accomplished than he. Most looked like the American artists whose material they copied. Three men dressed like the Kingston Trio sang ‘Tom Dooley’, and a girl with long black hair and a guitar sang ‘The House of the Rising Sun’ just like Joan Baez, and got loud applause and cheers.
    An older couple in corduroys got up and sang a song about farming called ‘ Im Märzen der Bauer ’ to the accompaniment of a piano-accordion. It was folk music, but not the kind this audience wanted. They got an ironic cheer, but they were out of date.
    While Walli was waiting his turn, getting impatient, he was approached by a pretty girl. This happened to him a lot. He thought he had a peculiar face, with high cheekbones and almond eyes, as if he might be half Japanese; but many girls thought he was dishy. The girl introduced herself as Karolin. She looked a year or two older than Walli. She had long, straight fair hair parted in the middle, framing an oval face. At first he thought she was like all the other folkie girls, but she had a big wide smile that made his heart misfire. She said: ‘I was going to enter this contest with my brother playing guitar, but he’s let me down – I don’t suppose you’d care to team up with me?’
    Walli’s first impulse was to refuse. He had a repertoire of songs and none were duets. But Karolin was enchanting, and he wanted a reason to continue to talk to her. ‘We’d have to rehearse,’ he said doubtfully.
    ‘We could step outside. What songs were you thinking of?’
    ‘I was going to do “All My Trials” then “This Land is Your Land”.’
    ‘How about “ Noch Einen Tanz ”?’
    It was not part of Walli’s repertoire, but he knew the tune and it was easy to play. ‘I never thought of doing a comic song,’ he said.
    ‘The audience would love it. You could sing the man’s part, where he tells her to go home to her sick husband, then I’d sing “Just one more dance”, and we could do the last line together.’
    ‘Let’s try it.’
    They went outside. It was early summer, and still light. They sat on a doorstep and tried out the song. They sounded good together, and Walli improvised a harmony on the last line.
    Karolin had a pure contralto voice that he thought could sound thrilling, and he suggested that their second number could be a sad song, for contrast. She rejected ‘All My Trials’ as too depressing, but she liked ‘Nobody’s Fault But Mine’, a slow spiritual. When they ran through it, the hairs stood up on the back of Walli’s neck.
    An American soldier entering the club smiled at them and said in English: ‘My God, it’s the Bobbsey Twins.’
    Karolin laughed and said to Walli: