31st December, 2010

They certainly had not planned to spend New Year's Eve alone together. George had had other plans. He had invited a group of friends from his university days, together with their partners, for what was promising to be a very merry party. One by one, however, they had excused themselves for various, all-too-understandable reasons. Chris Brandner's wife was newly pregnant and feeling nauseous all day; she did not want to leave her bed. Caro and Rick had eloped to Vegas and were now touring New England on their honeymoon. Eleonore's husband had been asked to step in for a friend in a parish near Kiel. On the evening of the 30th, Frederick called to say that their twins had contracted chicken pox and he and Anne would not be able to come. And now, finally, Harry had left a garbled message on his mailbox, saying that he needed to get away from everything and was going to Bavaria. From what George could tell, Harry had already been drinking; he sounded almost exuberant and had shouted into the phone.

Frustrated, George slammed the phone onto a table. He could of course just spend the evening alone, in front of the telly, or with a book, but he did not feel like that at all. He had been prepared to have company. He had even declined invitations to other parties in favour of his own, which now seemed a foolish thing to do. Was there anybody whom he could invite on such short notice without being rude, he wondered. The only one he could think of was Anna, but she would be on her way to Bavaria by now. He had invited Anna as well to the evening's party, but she had had declined, because of Harry's presence. Instead, she and Emma had booked into a spa somewhere in Bavaria and planned to have girls' night there.

He frowned. Anna had booked a spa holiday in Bavaria, and now Harry was going to Bavaria. He checked the message on his mailbox again. Harry had definitely mentioned Bavaria. It was too much of a coincidence, certainly. He decided to call Anna.

Emma sounded slightly surprised when he called her, but that might have been the bad connection. From what he could tell, she was somewhere with many other people.

'George, hi!' she said, a bit out of breath. 'Lovely to hear from you!'

'Hey there,' he said. 'Emma?'

Before he could say anything else, however, Emma was talking again.

'Quick,' she said, 'Caramel Cookie Crunch or Nougat Brownie?'

'Err,' George said.

'You're right, I'd better take both,' Emma agreed. 'Sorry, I was just deciding with what sort of ice-cream to stuff my face tonight. Anyways, how're you?'

'Good, good,' George said. 'I was just wondering -'

'Excuse me just a sec,' Emma said. 'Sorry, are those toffee-nut ones half-priced as well? No, I'll keep both these boxes in that case. And one with the white chocolates. Thank you. Sorry, George, you were saying?'

'If you're busy shopping, I could call later -'

'Oh, no, never mind,' she wheezed. 'It's fine.'

'Isn't that Anna's phone?' George asked. 'I thought I had dialled her number.'

'It is,' Emma said. 'It is Anna's phone. The silly girl took mine when she left this morning.'

'Weren't the two of you going to leave together today?' George said. 'I thought she had said -'

'We were going to, yes,' Emma said. 'Haven't you heard?'

'Have I heard what?' George said.

'Harry came back,' Emma said. 'He came to see Anna last night and apologised, then she apologised, then there was lots of snogging – you should have seen it, it was disgusting. And now they're on their way to Bavaria, if he hasn't landed them in some ditch. Disgusting weather, isn't it, I bet it'll freeze over again tonight, I only hope they'll make it safely -'

'That is -'

'Would you mind terribly, sir? That's my shopping cart. Thanks a bunch. Sorry, George, I'm just getting a few things for tonight and the people here seem to be going bonkers.'

'You're having a party?'

'Oh, yes, quite,' she said. 'Me and Miss Sophie and the Tetzlaffs and a bottle of Pinot Grigio or three – it's going to be one hell of a party. I hear Spiderman is on ProSieben, so maybe I'll invite him as well.'

'Really – I mean,' he found himself stuttering, 'would you perhaps, err, consider coming to my place then tonight? I'm sorry, it's dreadfully short notice -'

'Oh, no, not at all,' she replied. 'I mean, it is short notice, but you're a real life-saver – I thought I was to be all on my own in front of the telly tonight. Shall I bring some wine and chocolates? Also might have some ice-cream left -'

'Actually, I've got enough food for -'

'Great, then, what time shall I be there?'

Emma arrived half an hour late, at half past eight, carrying a gigantic shopping bag and two dripping containers of ice-cream.

'Sorry, lost track of time,' she wheezed, pushing the ice-cream into George's hand. 'I think you'd better stuff these into the freezer, they seem to melt somehow -'

She dropped the shopping bag onto the wooden floor and took off her coat and scarf, carelessly placing them on one of the unused brass hooks on the wall.

'Nice place,' she said, peeking around in the narrow hallway. 'Sort of, um, airy?'

George raised an eyebrow. Emma wrinkled her nose.

'Pasta sauce?' she asked.

'Lentil moussaka,' George answered.

'Is that the kitchen?' Emma said and opened the door opposite her. 'Oh, you've got a bathtub. How nice. Love the orchids, too. Great contrast with the grey walls.'

'The kitchen is through here,' George said.

He led the way to an open door at the end of the hallway. Emma followed him with the shopping bag, noticing the black-and-white photographs on the white walls.

'New York?' she asked, pointing at one.

'Paris,' George said. 'Before the war.'

The kitchen was accessible from the dining-room through which George was leading her. In passing, Emma saw the fire burning in the hearth. She pointed to the left wall.

'Is that a real fire?' she asked.

'It is,' George answered. 'So don't get too close.'

'Oh, is that why the floor is tiled around it? I thought you simply liked black granite.'

'Do you want to put your bags here?' George asked, pointing at the pinewood table.

'Sorry, you were saying? I love those blue tiles. They look so – French. That porcelain sink is enormous. Why do you need such a large sink?'

George chose not to respond.

'I'll put the ice-cream into the freezer and the wine into the fridge, alright?' he asked.

'You've got fresh herbs on your windowsill,' Emma said and stepped closer to the window. She picked up a sage plant, put her nose between the leaves and inhaled.

'Oh, I adore the smell,' she said. Then, the stove caught her attention.

'My gran had one of these,' she said. 'What's behind those cute little doors?'

'It's an AGA,' George explained, opening the oven doors for demonstration. 'An English oven. There's the fire behind this door and behind the other, our dinner.'

'Spiffing,' Emma said. 'You know how to work it?'

'It's not exactly rocket science.'

Emma then noticed the chopping board with the basil-leaves on it.

'Here, let me help you with that,' she said and picked up the knife.

'Emma, it's -' he began, but it was too late. She had already cut her thumb and was sucking on it. He fished a band-aid out of a drawer and handed it to her.

'What the hell is that?' she said and pointed her bleeding thumb at the knife before wrapping the band-aid around it.

'Japanese kitchen knife,' he said. 'It's sharp.'

'I hadn't noticed,' Emma muttered. 'Cruel race, the Japanese.'

Of course, the remark went right over George's head, but Emma did not notice his bemused face.

'I really like this place,' she said, turning around in the kitchen once more. 'Would you mind if I have a look around?'

Before George could answer, she was already taking a closer look at the coffee machine.

'Is that one of those where you only have to press a button and it makes you a cup of latte or whatever you like?'

'Err, no,' George said 'It's one of those where you grind your own beans and then decide how much water to pour over them, and then foam your milk using the hot steam -'

Emma's interest in the coffee machine had already faded. She was back in the dining-room, touching the polished surface of the dark table.

'Beautiful,' she said. 'Vintage, I suppose?'

'I suppose you could call it that, yes,' George said. 'It's from my grandparents' house.'

'Really now?' Emma said. 'It looks marvellous in here. Really, nice room -'

'Surely, you were here before?' George asked.

'Actually, I wasn't,' Emma said, finally stopping in her inspection of the room and turning back to him. 'I've never seen this place before.'

'I did invite you to the flatwarming party, though, didn't I?' he asked.

'You did,' Emma said and smiled. 'That was the night daddy fell off the kitchen ladder and we had to wait hours for the x-rays.'

'Oh, right,' George said. 'I remember. Where is your father tonight?'

'With the ladies from his cooking club,' Emma said. 'I was asked to join them, but I declined. They're going to cook dinner together and then play cards – he'll probably be home long after me.'

She took another look around in his living-room.

'I cannot believe I've never been here before,' she said. 'How long have you been living here?'

George shrugged.

'A year, more or less,' he said. 'Ever since my parents moved back to England.'

'It seems we hardly saw each other this past year or more,' Emma mused. 'Is something burning?'

'My moussaka!' George exclaimed and rushed to the kitchen.

'I didn't even know you could cook,' Emma said after her third helping, 'but this was absolutely delicious. Have you always been cooking?'

'I have, actually,' George said. 'But when I was living at my parents, my mum usually cooked, and before, when I was still living with Isabelle -'

'Did she make anything in that kitchen apart from coffee?' Emma asked.

'I am not sure,' George said. 'It is entirely possible she did not.'

'I don't know what you ever saw in her,' Emma said.

'She had other qualities,' George said curtly. 'Anyway, yeah, I started cooking back when I was at university and had to fend for myself – there's only so many times you can eat the vegetarian bolognese in the Mensa without being totally disgusted.'

'Don't I know it,' Emma muttered. 'You should have seen their spinach bake the other day – better yet, you should have smelt it! It was easily much worse than any anatomy class.'

She observed him carefully.

'Funny,' she said, 'how I never knew about the cooking. Odd, isn't it, when you've known someone all your life, and still don't know them.'

'Well, it's true, we hardly saw each other this past year,' George said. 'You were busy at uni, I was busy with my parents' move and my own -'

'We did see each other at Harry's Great Grand Prix Party,' Emma said. 'By the way, did I tell you he wants to host an even bigger one this year, what with us being champions and all?'

'I can barely contain my glee,' George said. 'Didn't we also catch a movie or two together?'

'Men Who Stare At Goats,' Emma said. 'Also, if I may add, one of Harry's ideas.'

'I was thinking we also went to see the new Harry Potter together,' George said.

'We meant to,' Emma said. 'But then daddy stapled his hand to the kitchen wall.'

'Oh, right,' George said. 'Did you get to see it in the end?'

'Yes, I went with a couple of people from uni. Aren't Ron and Hermione the cutest ever?'

'I can't say that I have an opinion on that,' George said. 'I've meant to say, though, Emma, you look fabulous tonight. Somehow different? Did you get your hair cut?'

'I've gained weight,' Emma said miserably. 'I haven't been able to get rid of it since October, and I'm afraid Christmas didn't help with that either.'

'Suits you though,' George said.

'Easy for you to say, you don't have to buy new jeans -'

'Do you remember that whole volcano thing?' Emma said reminiscingly.

'I'm not yet in my dotage,' George replied. 'Did you know my parents were stuck in Spain for two weeks? I was this close to having to drive there and pick them up.'

'Yes, daddy mentioned something,' Emma said. 'I mean, crazy, isn't it? I mean, who's ever heard of a stupid ash cloud stopping all traffic?'

'Stranger things have happened,' George said.

'Yes, what about that whole presidential election,' Emma said. 'Now that was strange.'

'I remember you phoning me to ask me who exactly did elect the Federal President,' George said. 'What was that about, by the way?'

'I had a bet going on with Harry,' Emma said and pouted. 'I lost.'

'I am sorry to hear it,' George said.

'Well, now I know who elects the President, so there,' Emma said. 'If there's another election next year, I'll know.'

'It's more likely we'll have to elect a new Parliament, the way things are going,' George said.

'I look forward to it,' Emma said and clapped her hands. 'I love elections.'

'Rather hot, this fire, isn't it?' Emma said. 'But very pretty.'

'That's exactly its purpose.'

'Do you know what shook me the most this year?' Emma said. 'I mean, that earthquake in Haiti was horrible, and those floodings in Pakistan too, and all the other terrible things that happened – but the Love Parade was so real – I mean, it was right here, on our doorstep, so to say -'

'Yes, I know,' George said. 'A couple of my students were there, they were pretty shaken afterwards.'

'I could have been there too,' Emma said. 'A couple of us from uni meant to go, but then we thought it would rain and didn't -'

George shook his head. They stared into the fire.

'Do you have any resolutions for the new year?' Emma asked suddenly.

'Not really,' George said and laughed. 'I guess I'll just see what happens. You?'

'I guess I'll just see what happens too,' Emma said. 'Although it would be nice to lose some weight.'

6th January, 2011

The stupid copier was stuck. Again. It was simply not fair that one had to buy a copy card, then regularly load it with new money – the copy card was greedy and insatiable – when the stupid copier would not even do what one paid it to do, copy. Frustrated, Emma aimed a deft kick at the machine's belly, where she supposed the error to be.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' a voice behind her said.

Emma spun around, almost losing balance because one foot was still in the air, and had to grip a table to steady her.

'George! What are you doing here?'

'That seems to me sort of obvious,' George said and placed the book he had been carrying onto the large book scanner.

'Yes, but this is a university library copy room,' Emma said.

'So?'

'You're not a student,' Emma pointed out.

'Funny, I had noticed that too,' George said. 'Where is the USB slot on this thing?'

'On the right, there,' Emma said and pointed. 'What are you doing here? What is that?'

She picked up the book and studied the cover.

'Shakespeare?'

'The large letters on the cover didn't escape your notice then,' George said and calmly took the book back from her.

'What are you scanning that for?' Emma said. 'There must be dozens of versions on-line.'

'Probably, but none with my annotations,' George said. 'I need them for my script.'

'Script?'

'My English theatre club wants to perform Much Ado this year, so I am fiddling with the script right now,' George explained. 'Why were you threatening GBH to that copier?'

'What? Oh, that,' Emma spun around again and shot a nasty glance at the offending machine. 'It's not copying. It's already eaten money for five copies and it won't spit out any.'

'If that is still the same machine they had in my days -' George said.

' - sure looks like it,' Emma muttered.

'- then the paper is stuck somewhere,' George said and opened a flap at the side of the copier, 'here.'

He pulled a stack of paper out of the machine.

'Whoever put new paper in here put too much of it in,' he said.

Emma looked sheepishly.

'It's a very big book,' she said in her defense and held up the anatomical atlas.

'Bed-time reading?' George said and nudged at the atlas.

'I wish,' Emma muttered darkly. 'So I can use this now?'

'Seems fine to me,' George said. 'Just try it.'

Miraculously, the copier did work now. In companionable silence, they worked together, the humming of the copier and the rustling of pages turned the only noise in the over-heated copy room.

'Are you finished here?' George said when Emma picked up her copies and extracted her copy card.

'Just need to put this back on the shelf,' Emma said. 'Why?'

'I thought we could grab a bite of lunch together in the Mensa, if you'd like,' George said.

'What, go eat with you?' Emma said.

'Yes, I know,' George said. 'What if someone sees us? That will set the gossip mill working for weeks.'

'Oh, pah,' Emma said. 'You wish.'

'Well, then,' George said. 'Let's go. I hear it's spinach bake today.'

'This is disgusting,' Emma said as they were making their way across Campus, over the half-frozen paths through the knee-high snow and the puddles of rain and ash. 'Well, at least it has stopped raining. But you need the dexterity of a mountain goat to get across that ice.'

She lost her footing on a patch of ice and with a squeak, skidded towards a deep puddle of rain. In the last moment, Goerge caught her arm and pulled her onto the crushed snow where he was walking.

'Thanks,' Emma panted, then added, 'yeuch. I got snow in my shoes.'

'Why are you wearing trainers anyway?' George asked and grabbed her elbow as she threatened to slip again.

'I got so sick of wearing the same boots every day,' Emma said.

'And you could not wait another day or two until this stuff was gone?' George said and indicated the layer of soggy snow that still covered most of the campus.

'This will take weeks to melt,' Emma muttered darkly. 'And besides, my legs look fat in boots.'

'Oh, of course,' George said. 'After you.'

Emma stepped into the revolving doors and then inside the over-heated mensa.

Thankfully, spinach bake was not on the menu that day. Avoiding the fish counter, they both found themselves in the queue for the almost edible-looking vegetable burgers that someone with more imagination than knowledge had dubbed falafel.

'I did not know you were a vegetarian as well,' George said when they were walking towards the check-out with their trays.

'Oh, I'm not,' Emma said. 'It's just – here, let me pay for that, I get student discount and I still owe you one.'

George let Emma pay for their meals, then made his way to one of the nearest tables.

'No, let's sit over there at the winows,' Emma said and picked a table at the far end of the room. 'This place has such a gym-like feel.'

'Your wish is my command,' George muttered and followed her.

'As I was saying,' Emma said after she had eaten a few forkfuls of her vegetable burger, 'I'm not a vegetarian, but I don't trust the meat options here, and the fish smells.'

She paused and contemplated the bit of burger on her fork.

'This is surprisingly tasty,' she said.

George nodded in agreement.

'Definitely not a falafel though,' he said. 'I mean, it's square, for a start -'

'Still, considering the options they usually have,' Emma said. 'But with all those dioxins, I suppose not even chicken is safe anymore. Did you hear they think the stuff didn't get in there by accident?'

'Hard to miss,' George said.

'Gross,' Emma said. 'I bet you're all smug now about not having eaten meat in the last decade.'

'Not smug perhaps,' George conceded, 'but at least -'

'Do you know where I can get organic eggs?' Emma interrupted him. 'Daddy phoned me twice this morning and made me promise not to buy any from the supermarket.'

'You could always try the organic supermarket,' George said. 'It's just a thought, of course, but the name does suggest -'

'Duh,' Emma said. 'I sort of had that coming, right?'

She picked a couple of chips from George's plate and stuffed them into her mouth.

'Yes, they are rather better than they used to be, aren't they?' George said.

'Sorry,' Emma mumbled, her mouth still full. 'I suppose there's a reason why I gained weight.'

'So your father is fretting about the dioxin?' George asked.

'Terribly,' Emma said. 'He even said he'd come here and bring me some of those free-range eggs he picks up at that farm. And you know how daddy hates taking the bus into town.'

'Indeed,' George said. 'It is quite a nasty line too.'

'Oh, I know,' Emma said. 'That reminds me, I need to take it tomorrow. I promised daddy I'd be home when the carollers come on Saturday.'

'What happened to your car?'

'I had to leave it at home,' Emma said mournfully. 'Impossible to find a parking space between those snow heaps, and with all the ice, not even for ready money.'

She paused, took another chip from George's plate and added, 'perhaps I can get Harry to give me a lift.'

'He and Anna still going strong then?' George asked.

'Disgustingly so.'

Notes: Unfortunately, the spinach bake of doom really does exist. Don't ask.

Oh, and hereabouts, organised by the local Catholic churches, carollers (usually primary schoolers) come on the Saturday following epiphany, in the guise of the three kings, sing a couple of songs, collect money for a charity, are given a few sweets and leave a sticker with a blessing for the front door. This year it'll read 20*C*M*B*11, CMB stands either for Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar or, Christus Mansionem Benedicat, Christ Bless This House. It's all very sweet and for a good cause, but the kids usually are horribly off-key.

10th January, 2010

Anna carefully dug the cable needle out of her work basket and placed three stitches in front of her work. She always loved working the first cable, before the rhythm was set. The first cable was exciting, because it did not yet require counting to find the right place. The first cable was an adventure.

The flat door slammed shut and her quiet evening was gone. A loud thump told her Emma had dropped her bags next to the door, as always, then probably taken off her shoes in the middle of the hallway, dropped her coat on the chest of drawers instead of putting it in the cupboard and left her key on the telephone table. A second later, the door to the living-room burst open and Emma stepped in. She flopped into the nearest armchair and sighed loudly.

'Home at last,' she said.

'Good evening to you, too,' Anna said and put another three stitches on the cable needle.

'Ooh,' Emma said, seeing the hot pink wool in Anna's hands. 'Is that what I think it is?'

'Yes,' Anna said and grinned. 'Your cap. Hot pink and with cables, as requested.'

'Excellent,' Emma said. 'Nothing on the telly tonight?'

She looked around for the remote, which was, of course, where Anna had placed it earlier on, in the drawer of the coffee-table.

'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, but I don't need to see that if you don't want to,' Anna said. 'Want to watch a movie?'

'Can't,' Emma said. 'I still have to prepare for the lectures tomorrow. I just want to catch my breath for a moment.'

'Are you hungry?' Anna asked. 'Harry cooked a chili, there's quite enough left.'

'God, no,' Emma panted. 'No food, please. I had to take three helpings of his lentil soup, and I think he packed some more into my bag.'

She looked around, listening for noises in the flat.

'Harry not here?'

'Basketball night,' Anna said. 'He left an hour ago. Where were you? I thought you'd be back for dinner.'

'Argh, yes, me too,' Emma said. 'I told him countless times I had to go, and he said, yes, of course, he understood, only -'

'He's not normally that clingy, though, is he?'

'Oh, it's just come all together just now,' Emma said. 'First the dioxins – he kept reminding me not to buy eggs, and he wondered whether Harry – who he was sure was a really nice man, and all – whether Harry would understand about not using supermarket eggs – and did I take care when eating at the mensa? It all shook him pretty much. And then the floodings – no matter how often I told him he was in no danger, it was the Rhine that had high water, that he doesn't even live near enough anything that could flood – all pointless. We spent yesterday carrying all the valuables up to the attic.'

'Do you think he's – I mean, that he's -'

'No,' Emma said firmly. 'Oh no. No, it's just because my aunt is not there. You know, normally, they keep each other sane, but she's in Berlin, so -'

'Oh, right, visiting Janina, isn't she?'

'Holy Janina,' Emma corrected, 'Saint Janina the Martyr who probably aced another dozen exams just this week.'

Emma sighed again.

'I should never have told him I don't have any courses on Monday,' she said. 'Well, at least I've got the car back here. The bus ride last Friday was hell. So many screeching teenagers, you wouldn't believe it. And their hair! They look like skunks -'

She pondered Anna's fingers, moving quickly, the pink yarn wound around the left hand.

'Smelled like skunks, too, come to think of it.'

Emma stretched in her armchair and yawned loudly.

'I so wish I could go and sleep now,' she said. 'Anyway. How was school today?'

'Oh, the usual,' Anna said. 'Not too bad.'

'Nobody puke on you?'

'I told you,' Anna said. 'That only happened one time, and the kid had eaten something wrong.'

'I should think once would be quite enough,' Emma said.

'You're going to be a doctor,' Anna pointed out. 'It might yet lie in your future.'

'Yes, but, you know,' Emma said. 'Scrubs.'

'So, apart from carrying stuff up to the attic, how did the weekend go?'

'The usual,' Emma said and sighed yet again. 'The usual. Well, Aunt Jette wasn't there, but Oma Blaszczyk and Frau Gottschalk came for coffee on Saturday, and Frau Gottschalk brought her niece -'

'Frau Gottschalk?'

'From the cooking club,' Emma explained. 'How did your weekend go?'

'Quietly,' Anna said and carefully placed the cable needle on the coffee table. 'George came over on Saturday, he and Harry wanted to play Scrabble -'

'Scrabble? What are they, the Famous Five?'

'Oh, it was fun,' Anna said. 'I won. And I managed to finish Harry's scarf too. I think he liked it.'

'Oh, please,' Emma said. 'I don't want to hear about your cute couple antics.'

'You should be thankful I was able to start on your cap,' Anna said. 'What if Harry had wanted a longer scarf?'

'In that case, please tell him I am extremely grateful that he doesn't not have the neck of a bull,' Emma said and yawned again. 'Did George say anything?'

'Nothing unusual, no,' Anna said, frowning. 'Should he?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Emma said. 'I ran into him on Thursday, and he was – you know – funny, somehow. No idea. Maybe it's just because I hadn't seen him for so long.'

She stretched again.

'Right, if I don't start now, I never will,' she said and got up.

She left the room in as much a whirlwind as she had entered it and Anna was left alone with her clicking needles and the silence. She still had to buy cardboard for her third-graders on Friday, she must not forget that. And the lady from the yarn store had said she could pick up a bag of unsellables for her fourth-graders; she would do that tomorrow after school, before her dentist appointment. She hummed to herself as she carefully transferred three more stitches onto the cable needle. It would not be long now before Harry came home from his training.

20th January, 2011

From: hwaldheim @ mailserver.de
To: Bridgetjones @ studimail.de
Subject: This is your father

Hello Emma,

This is your father. I wanted to call you, but your phone was switched off. Is your battery empty again? You should charge your phone every night, so you can use it when there is an emergency.

Frau Gottschalk called me. Did you know that her niece is also studying medicine at your uni? You met her last weekend, do you remember? Frau Gottschalk asked if her niece could call you. She has a question concerning some exam and I told her you'd know what it's all about. Poor Natalie is only in her first year, I think she doesn't really know her way around, and you uni is so large, I think it must be all very confusing.

Love,

Daddy

PS: Did you hear that about that bus that drove into a group of people on Frankfurt airport? I'm only happy your aunt isn't coming home by airplane.

From: fra_kirchberg @ uni-berlin.de
To: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
Subject: (no subject)

Harald,

looks as if I'd be in your part of the country sometime the next couple of months – is there a possibility of staying at your place?

I'll let you know if I learn any details.

Greetings,

Frank

From: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
To: gaknightley @ webnet.de
Subject: My cousin

Would you believe that? My cousin Frank wants to park himself on me. When and for how long, he didn't tell me, so as not to worry me with details.

Harry

From: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
To: hwaldheim @ mailserver.de
Subject: Re: This is your father

Hello daddy,

my phone is broken and I'll only get a replacement tomorrow, so you'll only be able to phone me again tomorrow, or in an emergency on Anna's phone (but only in emergencies!).

But if Natalie wants, she can drop me an email. Just give her my address.

Love,

Emma

PS: Yes, I just heard on the radio. Terrible. But aunt Jette wouldn't have flown via Frankfurt one way or another.

From: gaknightley @ webnet.de
To: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
Subject: Re: My cousin

Don't want to insult you here, but I could easily believe it with your cousin. Be happy you're not supposed to pick him up somewhere, or two or three of his friends. Or will you refuse him?

George

From: nataliemaus91 @ studimail.de
To: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
Subject: Hello

Hello Emma,

Thanks for letting me mail you. That's really nice of you. Can you help me? We're sitting our first anatomy exam soon and I just don't understand how exactly that is going to go. They explained it to us in the tutorial, but I didn't really understand it and I didn't want to ask again. And my aunt said perhaps you can help me. If that's okay for you. That would be really lovely.

Love,

Natalie

From: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
To: nataliemaus91 @ studimail.de
Subject: Re: Hello

Hello Natalie,

no problem. If you'd like, we could meet up in the mensa tomorrow to talk the exam through. I'm finished at 12, what would suit you?

Emma

From: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
To: gaknightley @ webnet.de
Subject: Car chase

Listen to this, they just said on the radio that there had been a wild car chase in Oberhausen – wicked, isn't it?

From: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
To: gaknightley @ webnet.de
Subject: Re: Re: My cousin

I'm afraid I won't be able to get out of that one, or I'll be in trouble with the maternal unit.

Harry

From: gaknightley @ webnet.de
To: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
Subject: Re: Re: Re: My cousin

You might be right there. You have my compassion.

Is scrabble on Saturday still on? Are the ladies going to join us?

George

PS: Apparently there was a car chase in Oberhausen. Seems we're missing out on real life.

From: nataliemaus91 @ studimail.de
To: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
Subject: Re: Re: Hello

Oh that would be awesome!! Thanks for doing that !! I finish at 12 too, when shall we meet at the mensa? Where?

Love,

Natalie

From: gaknightley @ webnet.de
To: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
Subject: Re: Car chase

Completely wicked. Were you involved?

From: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
To: nataliemaus91 @ studimail.de
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Hello

Is 12.15 at the North Entrance ok with you?

From: harald.westermann @ webnet.de
To: anna-elisabeth.schneider @ mailserver.de; bridgetjones @ studimail.de; gaknightley @ webnet.de
Subject: Scrabble on Saturday?

Is scrabble at eight on Saturday still on?

Harry

From: nataliemaus91 @ studimail.de
To: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Hello

Yes that's super!!! Thanks again!!! Till tomorrow!!

L,

Natalie

From: bridgetjones @ studimail.de
To: gaknightley @ webnet.de
Subject: Re: Re: Car chase

Har har.

PS: Since when do I have the honour of being invited to your scrabble night?