Section I, Next Section

Prologue

Posted on Saturday, 8 November 2003

„Don’t you think Max Danner terribly handsome?“

Charlotte Lukas asked her friend Elisabeth Benesch while they were sorting the returns in Vienna’s main public library.

„I cannot think him handsome for I haven’t seen his teeth yet.“

Charlotte looked at her colleague in astonishment.

„Lizzy, you do not mean to discard a person on the mere possibility that his parents didn’t have enough money to have his teeth corrected as a child?“

„You mistake my meaning, Charlotte. I can’t say anything about his teeth because I’ve never seen him smile and that prevents me from pronouncing him handsome.“

If he had one drink he would be able to look into her eyes when talking to her.

If he had two he could smile back when she cheerfully greeted him in the morning.

If he had three – or rather five – drinks he would be able to engage her in a real conversation.

But he would not have a drink, not now, not ever. Max Danner was on the wagon for one and a half years now and he intended to keep it that way.

Chapter 1

Max had always been a quiet child, comfortable only with close friends and family. In his early teens, during his mother’s struggle with breast cancer and for some time after her death he had lived in a dazed world of his own. The only person who’d managed to get through to him then was his little sister Georgine, then four, as their father was too lost in his own grief.

After he’d re-emerged from this world of his own what had been reserve as a child presented itself as unconquerable, painful shyness. Childhood friends had either moved to different schools or were reluctant to approach him, knowing of his mother’s death.

Maybe if his father, or a teacher, or a parent of a school pal would have encouraged him to bridge the gap everything would have turned out differently. But no one had raised as much as a finger.

When about sixteen Max had a revelation.

On a school skiing trip someone had smuggled a bottle of rum into the dorm. Conspiratorially huddling together in the darkened eight bed room, speaking only in hushed tones as not to alert a teacher, paper cups with rum laced coke were passed around and soon frost-bitten fingers and the various bruises form their first-time experience with a snowboard were forgotten.

To his astonishment Max said aloud the remarks that before had only played on his mind. His room-mates appreciated his dry humour and he felt more at home amongst them than ever before.

After that trip he got invited along to parties and nights out more often and quickly found out that he was quite able to enjoy himself after a drink or two.

Such events occurred once or twice a month and neither Max nor anyone else saw anything in it.

After finishing high school he went to Vienna University to study literature. He thrived on the relative freedom of university life, moved out and spent nights discussing Schwab and Brecht with colleagues over cheap red wine. The women had earnest eyes and gentle hands, most of the men had manuscripts stashed away in a drawer secretly.

Max made some half-hearted attempts to hold conversations without a drink which did work, at least with his flatmate and closest friend Karl Binder. They had met at university, liked each other instantly and decided to share a flat, as Karl was eager to escape living with his sisters. Karl often jokingly would say that he was only studying literature because he thought the women studying it the prettiest – journalists and philosophers wore too much black, theatre students liked to wear odd colours either in their glasses or their hair … Karl could go on and on about how only literature students seemed to be aware of the attraction of clean fingernails and sensible skirts. Max envied Karl’s easy way with people but didn’t suffer from any neglect himself – tall, dark, handsome and equipped with a rather dry sense of humour - if he wanted to he made his fellow students swoon as easily as Karl made them laugh.

Karl’s present career came to no one’s surprise. He was manager of Vienna’s main public library and used all his enthusiasm to get the city of Vienna to fund it properly and the citizens of Vienna to visit it in masses.

Sometimes when wandering home together, Karl had remarked on Max’s ability to hold his drink, that he himself was feeling decidedly weak kneed while his friend, who had downed twice as much didn’t show any signs of being inebriated.

This would have given Max a start if not for the fact that he still could go on for a week without alcohol when he was on hiking trips in the Alps with Georgine or when they, together with their father were visiting a maternal aunt, as they did every year.

At 23 the friends' lives took different paths. Karl fell in love with his now wife, Jennifer, a social worker. He worked hard to finish his degree, get a job and be able to marry her. Max experienced a dramatic change of his situation of life as well, though in no way as pleasurable as Karl’s. He was working in an advertising agency for the summer, producing slogans, when his father died suddenly of a stroke. Max was offered a permanent position which he gladly took.

Convincing the authorities that he indeed was able to look after his 13 year old sister was difficult but in the end he gained custody of Georgine. Max had moved back in with her into his father’s flat and tried his best. Georgine had only dim memories of her mother and at 13 was particularly vulnerable.

Max was torn. He had to work hard yet he didn’t want to drop out of university; not now when he was nearly finished. Besides that he spent as much time as possible with his sister. He knew that he didn’t want to stay with advertising forever. He was grateful however for his present job and he was good at it but he didn’t like the pressure, the shallowness of some of his co-workers. They seemed to thrive on the high-flying, on the ruthlessness of the competition and sometimes on certain stimulating substances too.

Max’s boss was intelligent enough to know how to treat his best writer, to leave him on a long leash and not to force any of the social events the advertising industry seemed to live for on him.

At the age of 26 Max had won the agency two prestigious awards. He was also having his first cognac before brushing his teeth and having breakfast with Georgine.

Georgine had somehow managed. Even in her most trying years, she had been conscious of how precarious their situation was. If she ran into any trouble, the authorities would take custody away from Max for sure. Besides that she knew just how hard he tried to be mother and father for her so she held back from screaming at him when he was too zealous in his wish to protect her.

She found solace in music. Max encouraged her in every way and was grateful that performing in public made her overcome her own shyness. The day she passed the entry exam for Vienna’s University of Music was one of the proudest in his life.

Chapter 2

Posted on Thursday, 13 November 2003

Lizzy stacked the chairs in St. ______´s youth room. She was in charge today of tidying up the room and locking up after the AlAnon – meeting. Some who had been attending were still standing outside chatting. As Vienna was really quite small they had agreed – besides that they knew each other by first names only – on a policy of not telling about their work places or those of their alcoholic relatives.

Nevertheless quite a few of the women had struck up real friendships and met regularly outside AlAnon. Very rarely did men come to the meetings, mostly partners of prescription – drug – abusers. There was a youth-AlAnon also for teenaged children of alcoholics where naturally the sexes were more mixed.

Lizzy’s mother was an alcoholic. At the moment she wasn’t drinking – at least Lizzy hoped that she wasn’t – but decades of abuse had affected her health severely.

The divorce of Lizzy’s parents when she was 13 had been a relief – no more nights of staying up and checking whether her mother threatened to choke on her vomit, no more awkward dodging out of invitations from school friends because Lizzy knew she couldn’t return them.

As the family lived in a small village the divorce raised the interest of the local gossip mongers. Lizzy was thoroughly appalled by their viciousness. After she’d been cornered by two of them after church for a ruthless interrogation not only about the divorce but also about her father’s income – he was on the marriage market again after all – she hardly ever went into the village except for shopping.

She found solace in books and music. The mood at home was depressing at best, her father neither knowing how to deal with his own grief nor how to raise two teenagers on his own, her sister withdrawing into a maze of tics. The rest of the extended family avoided the topic of their mother and no one spared a thought of how the children were coping. Well, maybe they did, but no-one ever asked.

Lizzy’s mother seemed to get better after the divorce, at least her daughters hoped every single time she made a new attempt to stay sober.

The move to Vienna to study was at first a huge relief for Lizzy. She felt far away from all her troubles and responsibilities and for the first time told anyone of her mother’s illness.

That in itself was soothing.

Lizzy delved into her studies, went out a lot and started to date again. She had done so in high school but any budding relationship had withered either after the young man had been to her still quite depressing home or had been alerted by his parents of the family’s history.

Her first relationship in Vienna was with a musician. Lizzy enjoyed the music, the excitement, the camaraderie amongst his friends. She was definitely naïve or she would have seen sooner that her lover’s mood swings were connected to his drinking habits. When she realized this she tried to help him. She covered up for him, she lied for him when he was late for rehearsals or even gigs.

In retrospect she saw that her desire to “save” him had been a substitute for her failure to save her mother.

It was he who finally broke up.

After this Lizzy gave musicians and writers a wide berth but to her dismay found out that addiction was neither confined to members of these two professions nor often as obvious as with alcohol and drugs. She realized that she would have to come to terms with her history if she was ever to have a healthy relationship.

Counseling helped her understand a few things, like why she’d always chosen addicts as lovers. After two years her therapist thought her to be able to carry on alone but recommended AlAnon meetings to her.

That had been five years ago. Since then Lizzy had heard a lot of stories similar to her own and had told her story often.

Today a young woman had come to the meeting for the first time. She had introduced herself as Georgine and said that her brother was an alcoholic. That was unusual in itself, rarely ever did somebody come because of a sibling. Well, she would tell her story sooner or later. Newcomers usually sat and listened for a few times before talking themselves.

Lizzy locked up and went home.

Chapter 3

Max Danner had joined the staff last year. He was a friend of their boss, Karl Binder, but his professionalism had long since squelched any rumours about his gaining the job because of protection.

None of the librarians could claim to have had a conversation with him that had not been work-related. Though always polite, knowledgeable and helpful he kept to himself even during unofficial get-togethers of the staff.

Naturally a single handsome – despite her earlier professed opinions Lizzy had to admit that he was not a bad sight – man joining the mainly female team had raised the interest of several of the younger, unattached women but soon he was pronounced unapproachable, proud even by those whose hopes he’d dashed.

Lizzy – who had not been among them - never had obtained more than a somber reply to her greetings but nevertheless turned to him more often than not with her more intricate work problems.

Besides the fact that he was most likely to find a solution she somehow sensed that they shared a similar passion for their profession. Of course you wouldn’t find a librarian who didn’t like reading but for Elisabeth books were a means to escape. Reading soothed her soul, prevented her mind from going to places that would only give her pain.

The new building of Vienna’s main public library was situated above an underground station, vaguely resembling the front of an ocean liner. Modern and lofty, with lots of glass and spectacular views from the upper levels. On its roof was a café and the wide stairs leading up to it were scattered with people, on sunny days.

Max always took the stairs rather than the elevators, letting his gaze sweep over the city before going down again to work. He liked to walk through all levels before opening up. He didn’t even bother to invent a reason for this, he knew he simply was trying to run into Lizzy Benesch.

He wanted to catch a glimpse of her, he wanted to cross her path to say good morning - he had yet to work on being able to great her first, although he knew it was coming he was never quite up to opening his mouth first.

She would spot him and bid him a cheerful good morning - or good day, depending on when their shifts started. She did smile on most days but sometimes her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and on a very few occasions she had looked very sad indeed, either not having been quick enough to cover up or not bothering.

Max had to admit that he tried to encounter her unexpectedly because of the few times when her eyes had lit up on seeing him, when she’d launched into the description of a problem and he had been able to unabashedly study the ringlets behind her ears, the curve of her nape, her freckles.

In any case Max was quite sure that Lizzy Benesch had to carry her burden as anyone else and despite this was the liveliest, friendliest and wittiest person he knew. For that he admired her even more.

At the AA-meeting yesterday those who knew him had tried hard to keep a straight face. It would not do to laugh at the speaker but Max took it as what it was, good-natured and friendly. He had talked about Elisabeth for the third time in a row, he had talked about her and not about himself and his friends had grinned over his homage because they saw it as a sign of healing.

Two years ago, after that near disaster with Georgine, Max had realized that he had to jump on the emergency break. Having found a counselor for Georgie and having her established with a trusted aunt, he had time on hand to tackle his biggest problem, himself.

He quit his job at the agency and phoned the only person he could trust with this, Karl Binder.

Karl lent him his cabin in the Alps, he was his contact with Georgie and he even offered him a job.

After a check-up and a long talk with his family-physician Max went to detox in Kalksburg. He had been of a mind to try on his own but the doctor had talked him out of it.

"No need to punish yourself physically, son. It will be hard enough anyway."

He had been right. The first months were hell, Max had horrible depressions. He had been warned of this after effect but could not have imagined it as bad as it was. Sometimes not even Georgie could get through to him, and things were further complicated by the necessity to start working again as soon as possible. Karl had been very kind and considerate, assigning him to as undemanding tasks as possible.

With the new spring, things got better. Max was not quite prepared to greet the world with his arms open but his depressions abated by and by.
And when he met Lizzy Benesch for the first time he was able to appreciate his good luck in working at the same place as her.

Max was a grown man now and no teenager anymore but he found it very hard to relate to people without alcohol helping him overcome his shyness. He did all right with customers at work, and with colleagues too, if their interaction was work related. Where his heart was involved however he couldn’t overcome his tongue-tied behaviour. In his mind he had dozens of topics ready he wanted to discuss with Ms. Benesch but none ever was uttered aloud. Max was aware of the fact that due to his reserve he was often thought to be proud, he could only hope that Ms. Bensch didn’t think so too.

On one hand, his desire to be able to draw her into a real conversation made him wish for a drink more than anything else, on the other hand his hope to be worthy of such a woman made him ever more determined to stay sober.

Of course Max knew that he had to refrain from drinking again for his own sake, one day at a time, and for his own sake alone. He couldn’t blame somebody else for his drinking and he couldn’t let somebody else carry the responsibility for his staying sober either.

Max was quite confident in his ability to never touch a drink again but he also knew that he was an alcoholic for a lifetime - one drink could change everything. In his darkest hours he pondered whether he would ever have a relationship, or children. Wasn’t it too much to ask from them - to sit on a time bomb, to rely on an alcoholic, however long on the wagon? Most of the time he’d say it was too much but at AA meetings he met with people whose example encouraged him. They were dry for years, decades even, and they had families.

For now the only thing for him to do was staying sober, one day at a time.

Note: “Brecht” is the name of the author of “Mutter Courage” but if spelled “brecht” it means “break!” as a verb. Fünfhaus is a district of Vienna. Soul Seduction is a weekly clubbing at the Volksgarten, a venue in central Vienna.

Chapter 4

Posted on Tuesday, 18 November 2003

Lizzy and Charlotte had finished their work and Lizzy went to open up. On her way back she detoured through the English literature section where she encountered Max Danner. He returned her greetings civilly and seemed to hesitate, as if to say something more. Charlotte's remarks made Lizzy look closer and though she still had to see him smile she thought his countenance pleasing enough. Lizzy had openly despised the zeal with which some of her colleagues had tried to hunt him down upon his joining the staff and therefore was reluctant to make a first step towards more than their strictly work related relationship. Not that she wanted much more she told herself. Just be able to talk about the weekend, or the weather. When she was about to turn back he finally said,

“Do you plan to continue the “Mutter Courage” – reading?”

Her head went up in surprise.

“Yes, I do. How do you know of it?”

A teenaged immigrant boy had approached Lizzy for help, at first only for locating the book. Talking to him about it she found out that he had to read it for school. A week later he'd returned, really eager to understand it but not able to grasp it wholly on his own. He had brought two friends with him. As the trio's parents were from former Yugoslavia all could relate to the horrors of war, either from their own experience or from stories of their relatives. As the day was not busy Lizzy had taken them to a quiet corner and they'd read an act aloud together and discussed it.

“Nenad told me. He'd asked me whether “Brecht” wouldn't be a cool name for their posse. He seemed to like the idea that very few of their listeners would get the double meaning but would assume a sinister background.”

“It is a good name, I suppose. They've never told me about their band. Do they have a gig in the near future?”

“Ah, yes, actually they do. In a youth club. Nenad even asked me to come but not before enquiring whether I own black slacks and a leather jacket and would use gel for my hair. Maybe they didn't tell you because it's a male thing?”

His last comment raised Lizzy's temper on cue but then she reconsidered – she herself had been surprised that the youngster had approached her rather than a male colleague. After all, sitting in a corner reading with an – in his eyes – elderly librarian was definitely not something an inner-city rapper wanted to be caught doing. Max bit his lip as soon as the words had left his mouth. Now he'd finally managed to talk to her and had put his foot in his mouth as firmly as possible.

“Well, yes, it might be eternally embarrassing for them if I'd turn up in my tweed costume, they'd loose their street credibility forever.”

Relief flooded him. She'd taken his comment in the way it was intended.

“Ah, yes, possibly.”

Neither could think of anything else to say – or rather Max could think but not say anything so they went their separate ways.

A few days later Lizzy read another act of the play with Nenad and his friends. After they'd finished the boys lingered on, whispering and nudging each other. At last Dragan, the smallest, stepped forward.

“You see, we been doing, sort of, a song `bout the book.”

“Good. What kind of song?”

“Well, you might not know that kind of music, it's rap.”

“I cannot say that I'm very knowledgeable in that area but I've seen Eminem this summer.”

The youths looked at each other in wonderment and Lizzy was glad that she'd been forewarned, otherwise she would have had difficulties to keep a straight face.

She didn´t add that she´d only been to the concert to chaperone her cousins who wouldn´t have been allowed to go on their own.

“You possibly consider him too much mainstream.”

“Oh no, he´s cool, is he. He´s definitely cool.”

They looked at each other and Nenad said

“We´ll be doing the song on Saturday, there´s a contest at the youth center in Fünfhaus. If you wasn’t to come, it starts at ten.”

“I cannot promise but I will try to come.”

They walked off, no, they sauntered off, boys of that age were unable to just walk. Lizzy was still grinning about that incident when she saw Max heading out for his lunch break too. She hurried to catch up with him.

“I´m glad you told me about the posse. They said something to me about some lyrics today. You should have seen their faces when I told them that I´ve seen Eminem in July, their faces were priceless.

Max had been surprised by her approach and now looked at her with nearly the same expression as the youngsters. Lizzy had to laugh.

“No, not you too! I think it is normal for 15-year-olds to picture their librarian with knitting and a cat but you? Come on!”

“Ah, I didn´t do that, honestly. But neither did I put you down as an Eminem-fan, more like, I don´t know, Soul Seduction perhaps?”

“True, I only went to chaperone my cousins. Although I think some of his lyrics to be quite astonishing it´s not the kind of music that tempts me to move my feet. You are right with Soul Seduction, although I haven´t been there for some time.”

Another cliff maneuvered Max was quite daring.

“Did you plan to lunch on the stairs?”

“Er, no, I just wanted to go for a coffee. Charlotte has me over for dinner and as it is her day off it will be a four-course thing for sure.”

Lizzy had indeed planned to have her coffee on the stairs but was yet reluctant to ask him whether to join him and Max had exhausted all his courage for the day. Secretly he was pleased though – she had said “me” and not “us”, surely Charlotte would have invited Lizzy´s partner too if there were one.

Note: Almdudler is a brand of herb-lemonade.

Chapter 5

On Saturday Lizzy dressed with great care. She knew that she couldn´t possibly fit in with the dress codes of teenagers nor did she want to. In the end she chose a tartan mini with black tights and a black sleeveless t-shirt. She left her hair open and completed the outfit with her Doc Martens-boots. They might think her old-fashioned post-punk but at least not an embarrassment. With a start she realized how comfortable that outfit felt, she´d often worn it for concerts, and that she hadn´t been going out a lot lately.

In another part of the town Georgine got increasingly annoyed with her brother. He was pacing the living room like a caged animal, always crossing in front of the TV where she wanted to watch “Who wants to be a millionaire?” after a truly exhausting day rehearsing a Beethoven trio.

“Out with it , Max, you´re frightening me.”

“`Tis nothing.”

More pacing. Georgine blocked his way.

“If you have let yourself get cornered into a date with that horrible Karoline Binder it´s your own fault. Face it like a man and be done with it.”

This drew a little laugh from Max.

“No, Georgie, I´m quite safe from her.”

“Why all of a sudden, she´s pestered you for years?”

“She found out only recently that I´m a librarian now, and on a librarian's salary.”

“You´ve been one for 1 ½ years. How could she miss something like that?”

“I´ll be polite and not comment this.”

“I can see what you´re thinking anyway.”

“I should imagine not.”

“Do not plunder lines from my favourite movie! Do you mean to indicate that you´ve been meditating on fine eyes?”

Max got serious again all of a sudden.

“She had very fine eyes indeed.”

“You´re not talking about Ms. Binder, I reckon. So, what do you plan to do about her?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing!”

“Why not, is she married?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“And what is it about tonight? Why are you so edgy?”

“We´ve both been invited to the same concert, separately that is.”

“You needn´t even meet her then.”

“Oh yes, we will be the only two persons over 18 there.”

“And you plan to let her be the only one person? Not very gallant of you.”

“Georgie, I do not know whether she regards me as anything else than a colleague but if she does not – I have to keep my distance, she´s far too good to get involved with an alcoholic.”

“Let me get this clear – do you like her?”

The expression on his face told Georgine everything.

“My, you have it bad! So you´re in love with your colleague, think she might fancy you as well but are determined to keep your distance because you´re not good enough for her? – Just from a woman´s point of view, in her place I would want my say in this too. You needn´t hurry. When you trust her enough just tell her, it will be early enough not to break her heart if she really thinks a relationship with you a bad idea.”

Max looked at his sister, doubtful and hopeful all the same.

“Max, I know you blame yourself for a lot of things but you have always been the best of brothers to me. One can never take things for guaranteed, I´m quite sure your colleague knows that. And if you take off together I´ll take her to ALAnon-meetings, she will learn there everything she needs to know.”

Still he didn´t move.

“Get dressed, man!”

When he returned to the living room Georgine had to hide her amusement – black jeans, a Johnny-Cash-t-shirt and a leather jacket.

“You haven´t looked like that since before joining the agency but I like it. Where to are you going?”

“A rap – contest in a youth-center in Fünfhaus.”

“Dear me, true love then.”

Max only shrugged and Georgine went to hug him.

“Good luck, brother.”

Lizzy was having a good time. She´d found a quiet corner (well not quiet in an acoustic sense but in nobody´s way), was nursing an Almdudler and enjoyed the music as well as watching people. Nenad and his pals she´d spotted earlier but didn´t get over to greet them, maybe she would after their turn in the contest. Her eyes frequently traveled over to the entrance which made her think twice about whom she´d been expecting to come and why.

Wasn´t it perfectly natural to wish for a familiar face? Or did she wish for Max especially? Lizzy realized that one reason why she felt so comfortable in his presence was that she thought him unapproachable for whatever reason. He´d made it clear from the very beginning of his start in the library that neither was he on the lookout for a partner nor inclined for a flirt or a fling. As she viewed him not as possible partner she needn´t be on the lookout for telltale signs she had come to know by now, he could be addicted to whatever, she needn´t care.

Looks like she needn´t worry because it was nearly half past ten anyway.

Max was disheartened. All his struggles were for nothing, she wasn´t here. Masses of teenagers, all dressed up for the occasion. He had been right, he was the only one over 18 save the young man behind the mixer and the bar keeper. Well, bar was an exaggeration, someone – Max thought the social worker in charge of the youth center - was handing out lemonade from behind a stack of cases.

He scanned the crowd for Nenad and his posse – they were the real reason for his being here, weren´t they? One girl caught his gaze, boots, long legs and a short tartan but Max quickly reprimanded himself, surely he hadn´t come to stare at teenagers. Looking further something registered in his mind. Tartan? Doc Martens? This was no typical rapper-groupie. He looked back at her just as she turned around.

And that was how Elisabeth Benesch saw Max Danner smile for the first time.

Note: Johnny Cash was in Vienna in 1995 for the last time, I had to shift that concert to 1996 to make it fit the timeline. The Guertel – it means belt – is a ring road circling the districts 3 to 9 and has bordellos and go-go-bars, on some parts there's also street prostitution. During the last few years however on a small stretch of the road and particularly in the archs under the railway a lot of new venues opened, from alternative to very posh.

Chapter 6

Posted on Saturday, 22 November, 2003

“You´re early enough, they haven´t had their turn yet.”

“I´m glad. I, er, dressing that is - “

“Don’t tell me. I like your t-shirt by the way. His last recordings are outstanding, American III always sends a shiver down my spine.”

“Yes, that record is something. I got hooked on him in `96 when he was in Vienna for the last time. I went to the concert by accident, a friend had a spare ticket, and there was this man, very ill already but still, it was incredible.”

Lizzy looked at him, surprised by his vehemence and by the longest speech she so far heard of him. Max remembered that particular concert as the best thing in a really good summer, his last good one for a while as it later turned out because his father had died not two weeks afterwards. He was of a mind to tell her so when Nenad and his friends climbed the stage. Their lyrics were hard, fast paced and to the point, the audience was on its feet.

Lizzy wanted to congratulate them but they were surrounded by masses of friends so she motioned to the door with her head. Max grabbed his jacket and followed her. Outside they realized just how noisy it had been inside.

“Phew.” Lizzy blew out.

“Yes, quite.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“No, not really. They were good but I think I´ve had my fill of rap for tonight. Er, would you, I mean, I do not know any café around here, but, er, shall we go for a coffee somewhere?”

Lizzy was not quite sure whether he was nervous or just trying to be polite but suggested anyway

“We could take the underground to the Guertel for one of the joints there if that isn´t too much out of your way.”

“No, not at all, I live in the 9th district.”

They went for the nearest underground station and soon enough found themselves in front of the Café Carina. As Max eyed it dubiously Lizzy exclaimed

“There´s a band playing tonight. I think they usually have blues and jazz, shall we go in?”

The café in question was directly under the underground which in this part of town ran some 8 metres above ground. It was decidedly seedy, the tears in the upholstering repaired with duct tape and none of it´s tables seemed to be able to stand straight without some beer mats under one of the legs, its walls were covered with posters and smoke hung heavy in the air.

Max had had second thoughts because of their direction - some of the new Guertel-venues were actually quite posh, frequented by yuppies, and the last thing he wished for was to run into a former colleague from advertising. But none of them would ever come in here, so he agreed and held the door for Lizzy. They had found a table in the back and were warming their fingers on their mugs, unsure of how to proceed. Finally Max offered

“Do you come here often?”

“I´ve never been here in the evening. Some years ago I´ve been to the Chelsea further up quite regularly.”

A shadow had crossed her face upon saying this so Max searched his brain for another topic.

“Have you any plans to continue what you´ve started with the readings?”

She relaxed visibly and launched into a elaborate description of ideas and plans she had to get people, especially young ones, to read. Lizzy was cross with herself. She had talked about her first years in Vienna often at meetings, why did his innocent question bother her so? She knew she was babbling right now.

When Max excused himself to go to the bathroom she tried to get at the bottom of her irritation. It was not him, no. With a jolt she realized that, after the disaster of her first relationship with Michael, the musician, she had denied herself going to such little clubs and bars where she´d encounter either him or his friends. Today she recognized how much she´d missed the atmosphere and the music, and the excitement of going on a stage. She´d blocked all this out for the wrong reasons and now she felt confident to be able to follow her heart´s desire without picking up men with a drinking problem on the way. When her eyes followed Max as he made his way back to their table she felt quite content with her situation.

As the band hadn´t started yet they settled into easy conversation about work, politics and music but not their private lives. They didn´t realize how much time had gone by. The mood in the café was changing, people were getting impatient as the band had still not started. Lizzy watched a man she thought to be a musician argue with the owner when she was approached from another direction.

"Lizzy, is that you? You´re a heaven´s send!"

"Bert, hi, how are you doing?"

Bert had been the drummer of several bands where Michael had played bass. They always had gotten along well together and Lizzy was genuinely happy to meet him again.

"Fine generally, but right now -" with a glance at Max he continued - "-you can guess whom we´re waiting for?"

"That bad? He´s actually throwing gigs and not only rehearsals and soundchecks?"

"Well, it´s been getting worse but never as late as today. Could you do your act tonight?"

Lizzy was of a mind to decline instantly but then answered

"Give me five minutes to think on that."

Bert looked very much relieved and went to join the other members of the group. Lizzy drew a breath and placed her hands flat on the table, looking Max squarely into the eyes.

"I am sorry about that. That was Bert, a friend from the time I first came to Vienna eight years ago. My then partner played in a band with him, still does."

"And now they want you to play with them?"

"Sort of. They´re waiting for an unreliable member of the band without whom they cannot start and the patron of the café is getting angry, it's Saturday night after all. They want me to go on stage, to fill in. We used to jam then when waiting for a rehearsal, or sometimes stretched a soundcheck a bit."

"Do you want to do it?"

"My first impulse was to say no but, yes, I´d like to give it a try. If I had more time to think about it my courage would surely falter. - Only, er, how about you, I, ah, you do not need to feel compelled to stay, that is."

Max´s heart sunk. She didn´t want him here. Hanging his head Johnny Cash looked at him from his t-shirt. "I won´t back down" was the first track on American Recordings III.

"I would really like to hear you but I will leave if you´d rather not have me here."

Genuine surprise showed in her mien.

"Oh no, I´d like you to stay, it´s just, well I got the impression that you didn´t like the café and I do not want to impose on you, I wouldn´t want you to stay out of politeness."

"I was reluctant to go near the new venues here on the Guertel when I realized that I might run into former colleagues in some of the more upbeat bars. But I´m safe here and I like it."

"Good. Wish me luck."

"Is it `toi toi toi´ or "Break you neck"?

"I´ll need both and your holding your thumbs."

With that she was off to tell Bert of her decision.

Max moved from the table in the back of the room to the bar to have a clearer view of the stage. Lizzy, guitar slung around her neck, was just tapping on the mike.

"Good evening everybody. My name is Lizzy Benesch and as the main act is unfortunately delayed I will fill in for a while."

Without much more ado she launched into no other song than "I won´t back down.".

Max nearly forgot to breath. She was nervous at first and the audience not at all responding, but soon got into it. With the third song, Huddie Leadbetter´s "Where did you sleep last night" she had them captured. Max was spellbound, he felt her to bare her soul with every song. Her performance was not capital but this honesty made it very enjoyable.

A commotion amongst the waiting musicians made him look at the door. A man with a bass-case had arrived. Lizzy had seen him too and announced her last song, Stevie Ray Vaughn´s "Life by the drop".

Max froze. If ever there was a song about addiction and how it hindered one to relate to the world around this was it. Had she found out? A quick glance at the stage told him that it was not he whom that song was for. The late bass player, her ex as Max assumed, looked angry in any case. But with the last verse, the one that gave hope, she was looking somewhere afar. Max sensed that neither he nor the other man were addressed now. This ought to have been a relief for him but had quite the contrary effect. Whoever they were - Lizzy Benesch had had her experiences with people with an addiction, that much was clear to Max. He had been right, he was absolutely not good for her. And that thought pained him more than it had a few hours ago, it was nigh unbearable.

Chapter 7

Note: My apologies to ABBA-fans (and to all punks over 26), please note that this are Lizzy´s or Georgine´s opinions, not mine. The districts of Vienna are arranged in a roughly circular way so the 2nd and the 9th district are separated only by the Donaukanal.

Lizzy had taken the warm applause and the effusive thanks of the band and had told the owner of the café that she´d think about his offer to play there sometime during the week. Max wasn´t at their table so she decided to wait at the bar. It was in the chrome of the espresso machine she saw the expression in his face mirrored before he had a chance to spot her. He looked utterly sad and forlorn. High on adrenalin from her performance Lizzy´s first impulse was to hug and comfort him. Something made her hold back however. Max was the most private person she knew and from her own reluctance to share her troubles even with close friends she gathered that he wouldn´t welcome her right now. She had to give him a moment to collect himself. Therefore Lizzy went to the bathroom and took her time.

The set of his shoulders upon returning told her that it was safe again. He greeted her with a smile.

"Congratulations, that was truly gripping."

Did his voice really falter at the last word? Maybe one of the songs she´d played had a special meaning for him.

"Thank you. After the first bouts of nerves I was quite pleased with my performance, considering that this was the biggest audience since a long time."

"You looked like you were born with a guitar ´round your neck."

This made her pensive.

"Maybe you´re right. Maybe I should do this more often but I wouldn´t want to be a full time musician."

"Do you want to stay and listen to the band?”

"Do you?"

"I, er, I´d rather keep your voice in mind."

Lizzy looked at him to reprimand him for such blatant flattery but saw that he was serious. She dropped her head to hide her blush and mumbled a quiet

"Thank you."

Max could kick himself. Hadn´t he just vowed to himself to keep his distance?

The station was busy with people. They looked at each other.

"Walk?"

"Yes."

"Do you play in a band?"

"I did in high school, but not any longer in Vienna. I like sessions though and I think today I realized how much I´d missed all this. I have played for friends and for myself though through all the years. Do you play?"

"No, I learned to play the violin but do not practice regularly. Now I only play at Christmas to humor my sister. She has an odd sense of humour I´m afraid.”

Lizzy had to chuckle at this.

"Does this mean I´m not allowed to put you down as participant of the musical part of the staff-party at Christmas?"

At his look of horror Lizzy quickly continued

"Hey, I was just teasing. - Though there are some very nice Schubert-waltzes for violin and guitar, they would make a change."

"How so? I´ve had influenza last year, I´ve never been to the staff Christmas party."

"Well, at some point Karl inevitably asks for some music to dance and every year Charlotte manages to put her ABBA - Greatest Hits - collection in the cd-player. In my opinion that´s a good moment to leave.”

"Thanks for the warning. I know they are somewhat a la mode again but I can do without."

"Can you play something of Hot Club de France?"

"Oh no, Stephane Grapelli would rotate in his grave. I would like to though. Maybe I should practice again."

"That depends on your neighbours."

"They are quite used to hear practicing. My sister studies piano at the University of Music. She practices several hours every day."

"She must be very good."

"She is."

It felt so right. To talk to her about Georgine, about music. He even had told her about their family traditions - Georgine had wished him to play after their father´s death instead of their father and they´d kept it that way ever since. Max knew he had to be very careful. Now that they talked in reality and not only in his imagination he found himself drawn to her even more.

Lizzy marveled at the change in Max´s demeanor. They´d talked more this evening than in the last year altogether. Could it be that he simply was very reserved, shy even and that it took him a long while to trust and open up to someone? If she was such a person what was she to do about it? Did it mean anything?"

Lizzy decided to take things as they came. Here was a colleague whom she had previously known as polite, helpful, knowledgeable if quiet who now turned out to have a similar taste in music as herself and, if he choose to apply it, to possess a rather dry sense of humour. The fact that this was Max made it quite remarkable but still Lizzy knew more about anybody else in the library than about him. So she calmed herself with her reasoning that their relationship had only progressed from rather odd to normal and that there was nothing to worry about. The strange tingle she had experienced what she recalled his smile or how he´d said that he rather wanted to keep her voice in mind she choose to ignore for now.

"Where do you live?"

Max´s voice broke into her reverie. They´d reached the 9th district by then.

"In the 2nd district, near the Augarten."

"Shall I walk you home?"

"It is on the other side of the Augarten. As it´s getting rather chilly I´d like to take a taxi. But thank you for the offer."

"You´re welcome. I live in the Servitengasse. At the traffic lightover there are usually taxis waiting."

There seemed to be an embargo on every subject until they remembered the first concert they´d been to tonight. Upon reaching the taxis Max held the door for her.

"I had a really good evening, thank you."

"Me too. Good night."

As the car drove off he sighed. He should have grabbed the chance to ask her out. Lizzy saw him in the taxi's ear window walking off slowly.

Georgine had fallen asleep in front of the TV in the living room, no doubt waiting for him. When Max turned off the set she awoke with a start.

"Georgie, you should not wait for me."

"I didn´t, honestly, but the rehearsal was so exhausting today, I don´t think I stayed awake even for the ten o´clock news, at least I can´t remember them. How´s your date?”

"It wasn´t a date."

"But you met her! You have that certain something about you!"

"Your reading material must be deplorable, little sister."

"Hey, I´m reading "Emma" at the moment."

"Help me - the sailor or the curate or the proud one?”

"Really, Max, you are a librarian!"

"Ah, yes, it´s about that little matchmaker. Georgie, finish that book and learn your lesson from it."

He had discarded his jacket and sat down on one of the chairs. Georgine was far from offended, she hadn´t seen her brother in such high spirits for some time. His sitting down was a further sign, he wanted to be questioned about his evening.

"I´ve finished "Emma" more that a dozen times. I will not interfere, I promise, but as your sister I am entitled to know everything: can she cook, is she neat and thrifty? Does she have a dowry?"

"Well, ma´am, she had a most enticing ladder tonight, so she´s definitely not neat but I am quite sure that she didn´t tear her tights on purpose to go with her general punk outfit so yes, I can testify she´s thrifty. As to her cooking - if it´s her turn to make coffee at work the more fainthearted to not dare to try it, in my opinion that makes her at least a good coffee-cook. About her dowry I am not sure but at one point she mentioned a weird great-aunt who kept goats ... "

"Stop it, Max! Did you say you´re going out with a punk? - hear me out on this: if she´s your age range then she´s crazy if she´s still a punk and if she´s young enough to be a legitimate punk you´re way too old for her!"

Max curled up on the sofa laughing.

"Got you! She´s not a punk and I think she´s somewhere around 26 and you were perfectly right earlier this evening. I will take it slowly, I will tell her and then we´ll see."

He hugged Georgie.

"Good night, my very clever little sister."

Chapter 8

Posted on Wednesday, 26 November 2003

At the next AlAnon meeting Lizzy burst to tell of the revelations concerning her music she´d had on Saturday but checked herself as she saw that Georgine, the so far very quiet newcomer was now ready to talk.

She told them about how she´d been orphaned at 13 and how her brother had raised her. Admitting that she still sometimes blamed herself that because of all the pressure and responsibility this had meant for him his drinking had become a problem. She was hopeful though for both of their future lives.

Lizzy and Georgine walked to the nearest tramway station together and Lizzy answered a lot of questions about AA and AlAnon. She liked the young woman and looked forward to see her again.

The next day Lizzy rang the owner of the Café Carina and confirmed a performance in two months time. As it was her day off she immediately went through all her songs as she realized that she´d need more than the ones she played all the time for two sets.

At work one day Karl sent for her. The library was planning a new campaign and he asked her whether she wanted to be the link between them and the advertising agency. Lizzy agreed with enthusiasm. Thus her days were busy but ever so often she went for lunch with Max. At their workplace he hadn´t been as much at ease as on that evening but soon enough they´d established an easy rapport with each other . Lizzy learned that he´d been with an advertising agency before coming to work in the library and wanted to know a few things about that kind of business, but soon she sensed that he didn´t like to talk about that period of his life.

Lizzy´s contact in the agency, Georg Wickenberg, was the opposite. He could go on and on about how important, exciting and demanding his line of work was. Sometimes Lizzy was secretly amused about his trying to make an impression but otherwise his manners were pleasing enough and he seemed to take her suggestions for the campaign seriously.

Max was torn. He wanted to tell Lizzy everything and talk about them but in all honesty he had to admit that neither did she show any preference for him nor made any attempts to move their relationship on to another stage.

From time to time he sensed that their was a mutual understanding between themselves but that could easily be in his mind alone. She was a friendly, lively, generous and open-minded person; in all probability she treated him in the same way she treated her baker or her postman. Only when talking about her oncoming performance he sensed that she was aware that that evening in the café she´d let him see a side of her other´s were not privy to. She valued his judgment on which songs to take on her play list and which not and one day asked him to listen to some she´d taped. Max made a copy of the tape. He had the decency to feel guilty about doing so without asking her first but he simply couldn´t resist this opportunity to obtain a small reminder of her for his evenings and weekends.

One evening, over a café latte after cinema Charlotte enquired after Max. Lizzy was surprised that her friend felt that there was something to enquire about in the first place.

"We have lunch sometimes like I have with other colleagues. This week I went twice with you and once with Max, Karl and Georg."

"That may be, Lizzy, but the point is that Max doesn´t lunch with anyone else but you, and Karl sometimes, but they´re old friends."

"Still I can´t see any significance in that. He never initiated anything, it was pure chance that we met at the rap-contest, I view him as a colleague."

"What about him? He looks at you a great deal."

"I haven´t noticed."

"I know, that´s why I tell you now. Just take care."

Lizzy looked thoughtful. She enjoyed being with him but nothing else (or so she told herself). But if he read more into their relationship that there was he might get hurt. That was something Lizzy wanted to avoid.

Lizzy thought Charlotte´s suspicions confirmed the following day. She was touring the whole building with Georg and a photographer to show them places suitable for taking pictures for a new a leaflet when they met Max on the stairs. He didn´t even acknowledge her after he´d seen Georg, his eyes were fixed on him in such cold fury the latter turned pale, then red. No greetings were exchanged as Max continued upstairs.

Wickenberg let out his breath.

“So that´s where he´s hiding himself. Interesting.”

Lizzy was in no mood to enquire further. At first she had – Charlotte´s warnings in mind – thought of jealousy but soon discarded this. She´d rather had the impression that Max hadn´t seen her at all. Whatever his history with advertising in general and Georg Wickenberg in particular, there were no amicable feelings between the two men. Wickenberg made another attempt.

“He left us quite suddenly you must know.”

Lizzy could tell he was eager to lay down his story but didn´t want to humour him.

“In view of our project you should know that the call of books can be irresistible.”

Georg was a bit disappointed that Max seemed to have an ally in her but was sure that the other women would be eager to hear him out.

Max hid in the staff bath room. At first he´d thought he´d be sick. Wickenberg´s presence in the library – near Elisabeth of all people – had caught him completely unawares. She had told him about the campaign but he´d been ever so reluctant so she´d dropped that topic. Max didn´t think her to be in any danger, she was far too mature and sensible for that but still, for his own sake, she needed to know everything.

Georgine had been barely 18 then. She´d come to work at the agency as a summer job, doing office work. She´d liked the liveliness there and struck up a friendship with a co-worker, Regina Jung. They went to parties together and events. Max wouldn´t have liked his sister to mingle with some of his colleagues, Georg Wickenberg among them, because of their lifestyle but after he´d dropped by on one or two occasions and saw nothing worse than the superficiality of `look and be seen´ he´d let Georgie enjoy herself, glad that she´d found friends.

His drinking habit by then merely allowed him to function sort of. He went to work, did what was required and came up with an unusual idea often enough to maintain his reputation to be quite brilliant. Max wasn´t interested in theater or books anymore, he hadn´t seen Karl for more that six months nor attempted to have anything else than one night stands.

In the mornings when he then awoke in a foreign flat, disgusted with himself, neither remembering his lover´s name nor whether they´d used protection but still he wasn´t able to face the fact that he couldn´t control his alcohol consume any longer. The only concession he had made was that he avoided driving, pretending to let Georgine drive to give her an opportunity to practice.

At work his relationship with Georg Wickenberg had deteriorated from mutual dislike to open animosity after Max´d made a comment on Georg´s cocaine habit. The man had only replied with a sneer

“Are you sure that cognac is ever so much more elegant?” thus robbing Max of the pretense that no one yet had noticed.

Then one Sunday he´d watched Georgine practicing. During the “Kreisleriana” the sleeves of her blouse had fallen back on her underarms and to his horror Max saw unmistakable marks.

Note: The book by Jack London I´m referring too is “John Barleycorn”. He describes what he calls “white logic” – when an alcoholic quits drinking he faces a complete disillusion, he can see nothing remotely good in the world that surrounds him, not even in the people close and dear to him, every little whim and inconsistency in them is magnified to disgust. Nowadays we know that this is partly a biochemical reaction and partly depression, depending on the person.

Chapter 9

There were bruises all over her forearms, some a raw purple, others fading into green or yellow already. Max was on her side in an instant, rudely interrupting her play.

He took her left wrist, uncovering her whole arm.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, Max, but he really loves me! It’s only when he’s under a lot of pressure he doesn’t know how strong he is. He’s always very sorry.”

Max froze, bile rising in his throat. He managed to ask

“Who?”

“Georg, he works with you.”

Other, even worse possibilities came to Max´s mind but on seeing Georgie’s expression – like a deer caught in headlights – he strove to stay as calm as possible. He led her to the living room sofa.

“But, Max, I mean we’ve never talked about this, but you’re not angry at me for having a boyfriend, are you?”

Max knew he had to tread very carefully there, it wouldn’t do to drive her into Wickenberg´s arms by alienating her.

“I do not like his lifestyle, Georgie, and I can’t like someone who hurts you.”

“Oh, he told me about his past, that he had lots of girlfriends but now that’s all over.”

It tore Max´s heart to see his little sister in all her ignorant innocence.

“Did you ever see him use drugs, dearest?”

Georgine looked away, confirming Max´s worst fears.

“What about you? Did you ever try?”

“No, and he never asked me to.”

Max could hear the defiance in her voice but he knew that she didn’t lie.

“You said he’d had lots of girlfriends, ah, did you use protection?”

“Of course, I’m on the pill.”

“I didn’t mean contraception, I meant condoms.”

Georgine looked at him, realization dawning on her.

“I am sorry, dearest, I wronged you greatly. I was so wrapped up in my own concerns that I neglected you. Neither did I realize you’re grown up nor that you’re falling in love. We should have talked about this years ago.”

Georgine was quiet for some minutes, then replied.

“Do not blame yourself, Max. I’ve know about diseases and contraception since I was twelve. It is just that it was theory then. I knew about his past life and still never once thought about HIV. How stupid can one be?”

“Georgie, about your bruises …”

She’d started crying so Max drew her into his arms, silently berating himself for his inability to look after her properly.

After his sister’s tears had abated somewhat Max continued.

“Dearest, there’s no excuse to hurt one’s lover, neither passion nor stress nor anything else must let a man forget himself to that extent that his girlfriend ends up with such bruises as you did. It is simply not right.”

“He was so gentle afterward and so sorry, I could not but forgive him.”

“That’s all right for you, but it is no excuse for him.”

Max knew it was not all right even for her but also realized that it was yet too early for such acknowledgements.

He craved a drink yet couldn’t leave her this way.

After a while Georgine stood up.

“I want to be alone.”

“You’re not calling him?”

“Not now.”

Max had to be content with that and retired to his bedroom to fight his own demons. The urge to drink himself into oblivion was great but Max forced himself to resist and face the whole extent of his shame.

He was an alcoholic.

The next morning Max went to look after Georgine. Her eyes were swollen and her shoulders sagged yet he knew he couldn’t tarry any longer.

“Georgie, I have failed you and myself and our parents grievously. This should never have happened. As your guardian I should have seen things coming.”

“Max, you tried very hard and I´ll be forever grateful that you managed for us not to be separated. How could you have prevented me from falling in love with Georg?”

“By staying sober.”

“I do not understand, I’ve never seen you drunk, or even – tipsy.”

“Well, I had two drinks already today. I’m an alcoholic, Georgie.”

Georgine clearly still didn’t understand so Max told her about everything, how it had started, how he’d gradually slipped into addiction and how he was living with it right now. Never did he imply that the responsibility he’d had to face at a young age might have sped things up but Georgine made the connection anyhow.

“This is all my fault!”

“No, never think that. I might just as well have this problem now had I failed to keep us together. If there’s anyone to blame it’s me, and I must try to remedy whatever is possible.”

Max couldn’t be sure that Georgie hadn’t called her “lover” during that weekend but she never left his side and through long talks the siblings devised a plan of how to proceed.

And so Georgine went to their aunt to continue with her preparation for the entry exam and also enlist professional help from a therapist.

Max quit his job at the agency the following Monday. When there to clear his desk, he had to be forcefully restrained from beating up Georg Wickenberg. The latter had answered Max’s threats to talk to the police with a threat of his own to indicate Georgine as a cocaine user.

Georgine lost herself in her music and her piano teacher even believed that her hurt and disappointment had enabled her to perform with a zeal before unknown to her which might make all the difference for the exam, as competition was heavy.

Max was in his fourth of six weeks detox when a thoroughly happy Georgine told him of her passing the exam and that she wanted to move back to their flat to get everything ready for his return.

Max feared for her safety, Wickenberg could all too easily shutter her recovery to date but on the other hand sensed that voicing this fears aloud would do no good for her new budding confidence.

Therefore he encouraged her in her plans after asking his aunt and the Binders to look after her from time to time.

The months following his return and start in the library were difficult for both siblings. Yet Georgine was much occupied with her studies, busily making friends and attending concerts, so Max had reasonable hope that she wouldn’t realize the extent of his depression.

For the fist weeks they’d talked a lot about what they’d learned about themselves and their problems.

The winter proved to be very hard for Max. Besides being forewarned of the depression following detox he was of course familiar with his Jack London but still wasn’t prepared for what he experienced.

His colleagues and customers disgusted him, even Karl’s cheerful, unobtrusive support, In his aunt’s kindly meant check ups on them he only saw meddling and even Georgine’s sometimes exuberant tales about her student life sometimes made him want to lash out at her.

He had come very close to drinking again when after matins on Christmas evening he studied the announcement on the board outside the church while waiting for Georgine who was chatting with some neighbours.

There was a small leaflet of AA and to his astonishment they held a meeting tonight at 1.30 am.

At detox doctors had fiercely recommended that he attend AA meetings but Max had been reluctant. What he’d gathered from the information then made him think of AA members as a bunch of religious nutcases but tonight he somehow felt that he’d had two options – either get drunk or give it a try.

When Georgine was ready to go home he informed her he’d walk her to their flat but would return for the meeting. She not only agreed but encouraged him to go.

So he went for his first meeting in St.____´s youth room. To his astonishment not only a well known critic he knew from university but also the baker’s wife from around the corner of his flat were there too.

Max didn’t say anything beyond

“My name is Max. I’m an alcoholic”, but felt for the first time in months that there was hope.

One day at a time. became his mantra and somewhere around Easter he found at least one person at work besides Karl to his liking.

Chapter 10

Posted on Sunday, 30 November 2003

Lizzy was thoroughly puzzled by Max's behaviour on the stairs. She knew that she only had to ask Georg. He seemed eager enough to talk, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to do this.

She assumed that Georg’s story would not place Max in a good light and forced herself to examine why she didn’t want someone to cast a shadow on her colleague. Was it because she began to see the insincerity and shallowness in Wickenberg’s ways or was it because she’d painted a fond picture of Max she couldn’t bare to be besmirched?

Lizzy found that she just couldn’t imagine Max having done something really dreadful, something that forced him to “hide” as Wickenberg had put it and that sent her alarm bells ringing.

She had thought recently about whether she shouldn’t try to have a relationship again, as she was confident that she’d come a long way from that time when she’d always been an enabler for an addict of some sort.

After the initial fright at the realization that her taciturn colleague had already managed to find a way into her heart, Lizzy warmed to the idea. Why not? That she herself hadn’t perceived any signs that Max might feel anything more than respect and a loose friendship didn’t disturb her in the least. She would need time, anyway, to examine her feelings closer; feelings whose existence she hadn’t acknowledged until now.

Lizzy vowed to herself that she wouldn’t do anything until she was more sure of the state of her heart. If her suspicions were confirmed and her feelings were not reciprocated by him she’d have had a crush on a colleague she’d overcome sooner or later and after a while view it as nothing else than a step towards being able again to have a healthy relationship.

Having thought all this through, Lizzy felt remarkably mature and clever and before a nibbling doubt could make itself heard she went in search of Charlotte.

On her way she noticed that conversions stopped whenever she passed colleagues and that Georg, who was waiting in the office for Karl didn’t meet her eye.
Lizzy wondered whether this had anything to do with Max and if so, why her colleagues felt the need to hide it from her. After all, it wasn’t as if Max and she were an item.

Lizzy finally found Charlotte outside having a cigarette. She didn’t tarry.

“Do you know what’s this all about? No one is even looking at me!”

“Er, it seems that Georg Wickenberg and Max had been colleagues in the same advertising agency for some years.”

“Well?”

“Do you know why Max left?”

“He didn’t like it anymore.”

“Wickenberg tells another story. He said that Max had to leave their agency and wouldn’t have gotten a job in that field elsewhere because he stole ideas from Wickenberg.”

“That cannot be true! How can you believe something like that, you know Max!”

“No, I do not and no one else except Karl does and that’s why everyone’s so eager to believe Georg’s tale. To put it mildly, Max was rather undiplomatic in fending off any advances to get him to know better when he joined us.”

“That’s near proof of his innocence. What can be seen as rudeness can also be seen as honesty. He may not have the most engaging manners but hasn’t he always been kind and helpful? Have you ever had reasons to believe him to be so vicious?”

“My, my, what an ardent defense. It’s been a while since I heard you speak so completely without making sense. You’re sure he’s nothing more than a colleague to you?”

“Right now he’s a colleague who’s been treated in a grossly unjust manner and my defense is as ardent as the matter deserves.”

“Calm yourself, Lizzy. No doubt there are two sides of the story and we’ve yet to hear Max’s. I’m just playing devil’s advocate. And Lizzy – despite your assurances of treating him as a common acquaintance – I’d wish you’d watch your steps; you do not need another heartbreak.”

Lizzy had a bitter reproach on her tongue but one look at Charlotte’s face told her that her friend was truly only looking out to do the best by her.

“I appreciate your concern, Charlotte, but rest assured, it’s unwarranted.”

“I hope so.”

Inside again Lizzy went to look for Max only to find out that his shift had already ended. Today was a late-evening – opening and Lizzy had the closing shift. She didn’t have a chance to talk with the other two remaining librarians because Nenad and Dragan came to see her.

Contrary to her belief, they’d indeed spotted them that evening.

“What a pity, we tried very hard to fit in with the crowd.”

“You failed, but some of my friends thought you might be scouts from a record label. Has this Brecht chap written something else?”

“Yes, quite a few things actually. I’ll show you.”

After the boys were equipped with copies of “Arturo Ui” Lizzy said good-bye to them. Nenad presented her with an envelope, mumbling thanks and scampering off after his friend without waiting for a reply.

Lizzy opened the letter to find a print-out of the lyrics and a few photographs of the posse. One of them showed the enthusiastic crowd and there, in the far corner were Max and Lizzy herself visible.

She had to squint to see something and had to smile at his expression. The picture was too small really but somehow she got the impression that he was smiling ever so slightly.

After shutting the computers down Lizzy bid good night to the cleaning staff and left the library. She pondered whether to take the stairs or the elevator when she noticed a silhouette at the bottom of the stairs.

Chapter 11

It was indeed Max and he waved at her. Lizzy hurried down the stairs and they met halfway. Max seemed more nervous than she’d ever seen him.

“Lizzy, if you don’t mind, I mean if it’s not too late I´d like to talk to you.”

“No, yes, I mean, it’s not too late.”

Lizzy wondered at her sudden inarticulateness.

“Can you think of a quiet place somewhere close to your flat –“

He was blushing now, visible even in the little light coming up from the square at the bottom of the stairs.

“I, er, I wasn’t implying –“

“How about the Café Salzgries? That’s roughly between your place and mine.”

Max nodded, relieved that she’d taken his comment in the way it was intended, and they went to the tramway 49. Inside the car, Max noticed that Lizzy was very puzzled by his behaviour and decided to begin.

“You might have noticed what happened between Wickenberg and me today –“

She bowed her head so he continued,

“I know you’re far too sensible to be in any danger from him but-“

A small frown appeared on her forehead, G-d, this was more difficult than he’d anticipated.

“I do not mean to imply – I think I should tell you something about myself. I know that by all means I’m just a colleague to you but if that’s ever going to change you need to know a few things.”

Lizzy felt mainly surprise but also hopeful excitement.

“Go on.”

Max then told her about his sister and Georg Wickenberg. They’d reached the café by then and Lizzy was thoroughly shocked.

“I’ve thought him to be superficial and all too fond of himself but never suspected him to be so vicious, although-“

She then alerted him to the rumours Wickenberg was spreading through the library. Max was nearly amused by their absurdity but also relieved that she didn’t know yet of his alcoholism, he wanted to tell her that himself.

“Couldn’t you call the police? He might hurt other women.”

“I was very reluctant to do so because of my sister – he was threatening to identify her as a cocaine user should I talk to the police – but I should possibly have talked to them despite the slim chances of a conviction in such cases. Often enough abusers are acquitted even after hospitalizing their spouses. But I would have done something had I been in shape to do anything. – Lizzy, I need to be blunt. When you sang “Life By The Drop” that evening, I got the impression that you are no foreigner to people who suffer from an addiction.”

Lizzy looked at him squarely. She felt she could trust him.

“My mother’s an alcoholic and it took me a while to realize that this affected my choice of partners in quite the wrong way. Michael, the bass player who was late, was one of them and from the looks of it he hasn’t quit drinking yet. Thankfully I do not feel a need to rescue him any longer – or anyone else for the matter. I sang that song for myself that evening.”

“I thought as much, not about your mother but about Michael. How’s your mother today?”

“Sober at the moment but she’s got problems with her heart and her liver. If she starts drinking again that will quite possibly mean her death.”

Max was torn between his need to reach out to her to comfort and assure her and between his knowledge of the bleak truth that he was possibly the last person in the world that should offer comfort to her. Lizzy noticed his sadness.

“Why did you ask?”

He blinked.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, I hope we can be friends still after tonight, I, er, I have greatly enjoyed our times together and I have begun to think that you did too and – “

Lizzy wanted to say something but he continued

“- please let me finish as long as I have the courage to do so – be it as it may be, in view of what I suspected about Michael, you should know that, if you ever consider me, that is, er, as more than, - you should know that, - I’m an alcoholic.”

Lizzy had feared him saying just that, his hints in his narrative about Wickenberg, his questions afterwards, had led her to that conclusion. She braced herself for a wave of shock and repulsion but nothing came: He was still Max, still her esteemed colleague, her friend, still the man whom she’d let see a glimpse of her soul and who had understood what he’d seen.

Also, he cared for her. That much was obvious, though to what extent Elisabeth couldn’t fathom.

Max was deeply unhappy and unsettled by her quietness. He’d said that sentence “I am an alcoholic” a hundred times before. He’d said it in every meeting, but today had been the hardest.

Although he had told himself that he had to tell her for her own sake and although he knew that a relationship between a former enabler and an alcoholic was a very bad idea, deep down he’d hoped that - well, that she’d tell him everything was all right.

Stupid, really stupid! A bitter smirk crossed his face.

An hour ago telling her had seemed the only thing to do but right now, seeing her withdraw from him made him question whether he shouldn’t have kept quiet.

“Max?”

He looked up and Lizzy was moved by the expression in his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me, I know that can’t have been easy. Do know that, er, I think that was the kindest thing ever done for me.”

She reached over the table for his hand.

“Give me some time, will you?”

A weight seemed to come off his shoulders and he very gently covered her hand with his. Lizzy experienced a feeling of contentedness, of security and had to forcefully remind herself of her determination to take matters slowly, to not rush into anything.

“Did you have a chance to listen to the tape I gave you?”

Max was aware of her determined change of topics but was ready to go along, even more so as she made no move to withdraw her hand.

“Yes, I did. You should definitely do “The Letter” and the “Ginhouse Blues” but I’m not so sure about “As The Crow Flies”. It’s clear you like that song a lot but I think the guitar arrangement is too, er, elaborate.”

Lizzy had to laugh.

“You mean you noticed how I struggled with it? I tried to play it as Rory Gallagher did but I had a feeling that was too much. I will have to strip it down so that I can manage singing and playing with more ease. What about that Muddy Waters song, “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had”?

“Ahem –“

“Max, I rely on you to be honest with me!”

“Well, I think you’re too young to do it; it’s a song for wise old men, or women. You’re too full of sheer joy of life for that. You have your dark songs too but then there’s still vitality in them, or at least energy, even if it’s destructive – but never that quiet resignation this particular song needs in my opinion.”

“Wow. I must remember to control my thoughts when you’re near.”

Lizzy knew her comment was rather on the flippant side but she was not ready to examine the possibilities this evening had opened.

When they noticed that the waiter was putting up the chairs they paid and went outside. Lizzy felt the absence of his hand but didn’t dare to reach for it when they were on the street. It wouldn’t do to encourage him before she’d made up her mind. When a group of rather noisy and exuberant youths passed them, pushing them aside, Max protectively put his arm around her shoulder.

As the party goers had vanished around the next corner, Lizzy felt him ever so reluctantly withdraw his arm. Before she knew what she was doing she’d slipped hers around his waist. A small sigh escaped him and he squeezed her shoulder.

They slowed their steps when the Schwedenplatz came in sight from where the N-tramway would go into the 2nd district. A train was to be seen in the distance, just crossing the Ringstrasse. It would be here in two minutes and Lizzy was glad about it, in a way. Max’s nearness made it very hard to keep her resolutions.

Max saw the approaching N, too and turned to face her. Lizzy anticipated him and quickly stood on her toes, kissing his cheek. Holding on to his neck she said close to his ear,

“I´d rather not rush things. If I kiss you for real now I will not be able to think straight any longer.”

Max buried his face in her hair and drew her closer for an embrace.

“Good night, Lizzy.”

The train came to a stop in the station and Lizzy boarded it. She went to the end of the car and watched Max standing there as it rounded a bend over the Donaukanal.

Note: The „Standard“ is an Austrian quality paper, the crossword comparable to the one in the „Times“.

Chapter 12

Posted on Saturday, 6 December 2003

Lizzy went home, still enveloped in the warm feeling of Max´s arms around her. She touched her lips as if to see whether the memory of his slightly scratchy cheek was still there.

In her flat there was a message from Georgine on the machine, making an appointment for a run in the Augarten in the morning. They´d done so regularly over the past weeks, on weekends sometimes stopping at Lizzy´s flat for breakfast.

The following day was a national bank holiday, all shops and offices were closed and there would be a military show which couldn´t interest Lizzy less. She wrapped herself into her duvet as if to relive the feeling of his embrace and fell asleep very happy and content.

In the wee hours of the morning she woke up and couldn´t find sleep again. A disturbing dream was bothering her, a dream she hadn´t had in a while. One of her worst fears when still living with her mother had been that she would fall asleep with a burning cigarette in her stupor. A nightmare where her mother was walking into a wall of flames while her own feet wouldn´t move had been a frequent feature some years ago, but not lately.

Had it been broad daylight, Lizzy might have been able to shrug it off but now, at four in the morning, all her demons seemed to ally against her, tearing her contentedness and confidence from the previous evening into shreds.

She looked into her heart.

Oh yes, her folly knew no ends. There she was, thinking of crushes and friendship. As if. Lizzy realized that Max was much more. She liked him, she esteemed him, quite right, but she had to face the truth that things had progressed even farther. If she let her imagination run wild she saw Max with a violin, she saw herself in his arms, she saw dark haired children running around.

The realization that such fantasies were just that, fantasies, made her cry. She pictured herself in doctors’ waiting rooms, the children asking why their daddy was so strange, - this was what she’d have to face if she followed her heart.

An alcoholic was an alcoholic for life. One misstep could make the difference. Although she trusted Max’s ability to stay sober she knew from bitter experience that this trust was common in all relatives of alcoholics.

At the breaking of dawn she got up and readied herself for meeting Georgine. Lizzy longed for an AlAnon meeting, talking about her worries had always soothed her. Yet in this instance she could already picture the looks of her AlAnon friends. Yes, they would not scold her, they would help her through whatever her decision was but she would know what they were thinking , she would feel their sympathetic looks. Lizzy was of a mind to start crying anew but forced herself to maintain if not a cheerful at least a calm façade.

Georgine was already doing stretches at their appointed meeting place.

“Come on, Lizzy, let´s put some colour on your cheeks!”

After two rounds in the Augarten, Lizzy was feeling better. During their third round the two women were caught in a sudden rainstorm and soon felt very chilly. Lizzy proposed that they return to her flat where she could provide Georgine with dry clothes.

After a shower, over a cup of coffee, Georgine noticed her friends pensive looks.

“What is it, Lizzy? Are you all gloomy because of the weather?”

“No, no, I’ve something on my mind.”

“Won’t you tell me?”

“I’m not sure whether I should burden you with my love life, or lack thereof.”

“You sound just like my brother. Although come to think of it, he is acting strange lately. Humming in the bathroom, skipping down the stairs etc. – I think he’s in love but he won’t tell me about it. So, you humour me!”

“There is someone I like a lot but I’m not too sure whether I’m ready for a relationship.”

Georgine would hear the truth soon enough in one of the next meetings, besides, Lizzy liked to keep her friendship with Georgine outside AlAnon separate from the relationship inside.

“I have not yet made up my mind.”

“What about your heart?”

“I’ve learned the hard way not to trust it all that much, I will take my time this time.”

“Sounds like a sensible plan. – Er, I think I have met someone at the chamber music course. He’s a cello player. But the violin player of our trio fancies me as well I think.”

Lizzy had to smile in spite of herself.

“Sounds like that would provide some interesting chemistry for your performance.”

“Yes, quite, I think I’ll do nothing until after the concert.”

Georgine happily scampered off in one of Lizzy’s raincoats.

Max found it hard to concentrate on the crossword in the “Standard”. It took him 15 minutes usually but today memories of how Elisabeth had felt in his arms kept intruding. Only the fact that she’d stated she wanted time kept him from ringing her to spend the holiday in a museum or in a café over newspapers.

He’d ask Georgine about her plans after she returned from running.

When he noticed the rain he raised the heating a few steps and put on the kettle, Georgine would be soaking wet.

Max gave up on the crossword and leaned back, replaying the last evening in his mind. He had been right that she felt something for him – to what extent he dared not speculate – and therefore telling her had been the right decision.
If he could stay content with that – having done the right thing – remained questionable. He had held her in his arms and he knew he couldn’t go back to just admiring her from afar. He wanted more, much more, not only in a physical sense, he wanted to share his life with her.

With a groan Max realized that he’d never made love before when being sober. While this was quite a frightening thought he wondered what it would feel like if even a kiss on the cheek from her could reduce him to such a state. But he mustn’t presume too much. She needed time and he would give her time. Her reaction to his confession yesterday had been more favourable that he’d expected anyway. So he just had to be patient.

Georgine returned in splendid spirits.

Max marveled on how far she’d come the past two years. She’d made friends at university and at AlAnon recently and even had had a boyfriend last year. The relationship had failed but if he was to believe Georgine´s explanations mainly due to the young man's self-centeredness – he was a rising piano star who couldn´t make time for a girlfriend. Max had kept his fears at bay that Georgine would have problems trusting a man after the Wickenberg fiasco and now began to hope that they were uncalled-for.

The siblings had talked a lot about that and about his alcoholism but had drawn a line where their love lives were concerned. Georgine sometimes gently teased her brother or talked about her admirers but not more. Max was content in the knowledge that she knew to whom she could turn should the need arise and otherwise prayed that despite all hardships she’d had to endure so far, she would be able to live as fulfilled a life as any other young woman.

He was grateful too because both seemed to have had a guardian angel – Max rather liked the thought that from somewhere their mother was keeping an eye on them. Their lives could have taken a turn for worse many times – Wickenberg could have been more eager to share his drugs, they could have contracted diseases, he could have hurt or killed them when driving drunk …

And now he had met the most wonderful woman. He was a happy man indeed.

Try as she might, Lizzy couldn’t get her mind off her problem. It kept replaying in her brain in a vicious circle: she had a history as an enabler – she finally felt she was ready for a healthy relationship – she wanted one with Max – Max was an alcoholic.
In the evening she had a headache and a sore throat, either from crying or from getting caught in the rain.

After a night of fitful sleep she phoned in ill with Charlotte. Her friend didn’t question Lizzy´s explanation of a cold; her voice sounded raspy enough. Lizzy wondered what Max would make of her absence but then remembered that it was his day off, he wouldn´t know about her staying home until tomorrow.

Sheer joy of life he’d said. Well, she felt very far from that right now. This thought however prompted Lizzy to practice some of the darker songs on her playlist. She found herself returning to “You Can´t Lose What You Ain´t Never Had” every now and then without really knowing why.

Chapter 13

The continuing rain prevented Max from going hiking as he had planned for his day off. He knew that if he didn’t find something to occupy him today soon, his feet inevitably would take him to the library.

His appearance there in his spare time would raise questions and possibly put pressure on Lizzy and that he didn’t want. So he drove out to Ikea, bought an extension for his bookshelves and spent the afternoon assembling the blasted thing, then dusting and rearranging his books, which were numerous, naturally. Although he kept telling himself that his cause of action was an honourable one he felt quite stupid and played Lizzy’s tape at least 5 times.

In the evening Max was half an hour early for his regular AA meeting. When it finally started he stood up to speak. He told the group everything about Lizzy and himself they didn’t already know. Usually they didn’t give each other direct advice, rather related how they’d dealt with similar situations so Max was surprised when one elder member addressed him directly

“Your friend Lizzy quite likely likes you for what you are, and not because you’re an alcoholic. While we meet here regularly to remind each other and ourselves never to underestimate the power alcohol has over our lives, we must also remember that a lot of things in our lives happen without any connection to alcohol whatsoever. You’ve done the right thing to tell her and now take it as always, one day at a time.”

After this Max scarcely listened to the other speakers. Did he assume too much of his own importance and that of alcohol in that matter? Shouldn’t he let Lizzy decide now? Was it arrogant to fear she wouldn’t be able to do right for and by herself? He tried to recall how AA veterans dealt with their marriages. From what he’d heard so far they had found a way to deal with their affliction in a way one did with handicaps like diabetes or similar illnesses. In any case most of the troubles they talked about had nothing to do with alcohol.

Yes, the man had been right, he should have a little faith in Lizzy and in himself too.

The next morning Max could hardly wait for Lizzy´s shift to start. After hovering about with a view of the entrance but catching no glimpse of her even an hour later he went down to ask Charlotte. Knowing she was Lizzy´s best friend at work he trusted her not to be a gossip but still was glad that he found her on her way out for a cigarette.

Charlotte had her suspicious when she noticed Max following her outside but kept her counsel.

“You’re a smoker?”

“No, I, er, I came to ask you whether you know something of Lizzy.”

Interesting, Charlotte thought to herself, they’re not on such terms to be calling each other at home.

“She’s got a cold.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it. Not too bad, I hope?”

“No, I don’t think so, she just got caught in the rain on Sunday.”

“You didn’t see her?”

“No, but I just spoke to her on the phone. She’s planning to come back tomorrow or Thursday at the latest.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.”

Max was quite sure that Lizzy wouldn´t miss work if she weren’t really ill but still he wondered whether Saturday’s events hadn´t somehow brought this on. He pondered whether to call her. There couldn´t be anything wrong in a colleague wishing her a speedy recovery, could there?

Lizzy felt bad about lying to Charlotte. As her remaining cold symptom was nothing more than a little bit of sneezing, she decided to go back to work tomorrow. There was no use in wallowing in self pity and she would have to face Max sooner or later anyway.

Upon returning home with her groceries she met Mrs. Djordjevic, the janitor of her building. She was waiting for an ambulance with her husband who suffered from MS. From the way he was holding himself, Lizzy gathered that another bout of his illness had come on. She wished them a speedy return from hospital.

Back in her flat Lizzy decided that serious cleaning was in order. She hovered and dusted and cleaned the windows – no use in omitting one single sunbeam by dirty windows, sunbeams were scarce anyway this time of the year.

Only after returning from the shower did she notice the message that had been left during her shopping.

“Hi Lizzy. It’s Max. I hope it’s nothing serious and that you’ll be all right again soon. Bye.”

Should she call him back? Lizzy postponed the decision until after a set of practice.

“You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had”.

The Djordjevices came to her mind again. Would she hesitate a single moment if she were in love with someone who suffered from MS, or diabetes, or asthma? Surely not. Then why should it matter that Max was an alcoholic? Why did she have so little faith in herself? Wasn’t it possible that her falling in love with Max was in no way connected to his being an alcoholic? That she denied them their chance of happiness entirely for the wrong reasons, same as she had done when avoiding the little blues clubs she so loved?

Max had called the Muddy Waters song one of resignation. Maybe it was, but suddenly Lizzy was able to hear a quite different meaning in it. Listening to Water’s record confirmed her opinion. The singer didn’t sound resigned, more like laconic, if at all, but the overall message was now crystal clear to Lizzy – there were no guarantees. None whatsoever. To put it in Water’s words: money got lost, houses burnt down, lovers left. One might “have” all of these at one moment but one might not be able to hold on to it.

Suddenly talking to Max became very important.

Lizzy called Charlotte rather than the extension in his department but her friend could only inform her that Max had accompanied Karl to a meeting in the city council’s education department and wouldn´t return to the library afterwards.

Lizzy looked into the phone book but found no entry for the city council’s education department. She would have to wait for tomorrow. Until then she wanted to go through her playlist yet again, to throw out some songs and find replacements. She tried to think of the perfect love song to sing. “I Got You, Babe” came to her mind but that had to be sung as a duet, “The Air That I Breathe” was perfect but maybe only after a couple’s first night together. She decided to practice it anyway but for now settled on “River Deep, Mountain High”. It suited her present mood better anyway than the languid expression of “The Air … “

Her growling stomach made her realize that it had already grown dark outside. Lizzy put the guitar away to prepare some dinner when the doorbell rang.

Continued In Next Section

© 2003 Copyright held by the author.