The Gordian Knot by Bernhard Schlink Read Free Book Online

Françoise standing in front of the refrigerator, or sitting on the couch beneath a large drawing of a church facade that had been executed with architectural precision.
    “What’s the church?” he asked.
    She hesitated. “That’s the cathedral in Warsaw in which my parents got married.”
    He knew she had parents, but knew nothing about them. “When did they leave Poland?”
    “I didn’t say they weren’t still living in Warsaw.”
    “But you often talk to them on the phone,” he said, unable to make sense of it.
    The washing machine stopped and Françoise went to unload it. He followed her.
    “Why are you so secretive about your parents?”
    “Why do you want to know so much about my family? You’ve got me—isn’t that enough?”
    In July Georg had a party. He had long dreamed of inviting everyone he knew and liked: his parents, sister, uncles and aunts, business associates, colleagues and friends—old friends from Germany and new ones he had met in Provence.
    The party would begin in the afternoon, they would have fun, dance, and it would all end with a big fireworks display. His relatives couldn’t come and only a few of his German friends showed up, but the party was fun, and the last guests left at dawn. InitiallyGeorg had wanted to surprise Françoise, but then he decided that her friends and relatives should come too. She did write a few invitations and help him with the preparations, but when she drove over to Marseille on the morning before the party to get some fresh oysters, she called to say that she wouldn’t be able to make it because she had to fly to Paris on business. Nor did anyone she had invited show up.
    On the afternoon after the party, Georg was sitting on the terrace drinking champagne with some old friends from Heidelberg. They had gone for a long hike while the cleaning ladies from the office had removed the last traces of the party. His friends had to head back to Germany, but they kept on talking and putting off their departure. The familiarity of long friendship was like the warm bed one doesn’t want to leave in the morning.
    Françoise came driving down the hill in her green Deux Chevaux. Georg jumped up, opened the garden gate, and opened the car door for her. She got out, saw his friends, greeted them awkwardly, and hurried into the kitchen to put away some things she had brought, staying there quite a while. Then she came out and joined the others, but didn’t fit in. Gerd asked her about her flight to Paris, but she avoided the question. Walter asked when she and Georg were planning to marry, at which she blushed bright red. Jan said that he heard she was from Poland and that he’d just been to Warsaw, and began talking about his trip, but she didn’t say anything. Gerd made a few pleasant remarks about the difficulties that a new girlfriend encountered with her boyfriend’s old friends, but she didn’t seem to be listening. After half an hour the friends from Heidelberg left, and while Georg was still standing next to Françoise at the door waving, she hissed at him, “What did you tell them about me?”
    “Why are you in such a bad mood, Brown Eyes? What’s wrong?”
    But she was in a bad mood and shouted at him in a little girl’s voice, fretful and cantankerous, her sentences starting with “And let me tell you!” “And if you think!” and “Of one thing you can be certain!” He didn’t know what to say, and stood there flustered.
    That evening she said she was sorry, boiled the asparagus she had brought, and pressed herself into his arms. “I had the impression you were talking about me, and that your friends had already come to conclusions about me, and wouldn’t see the real me anymore. I’m sorry. I ruined your afternoon.”
    Georg was understanding. The trip to Paris must have been stressful. In bed she said, “Georges, why don’t we go visit your friends in Heidelberg some weekend. I’d like to get to know them better. They seem really