1. Sale of the Munich Business
Peppi decorated his new flat to his own taste. The Albigensian panel painting, which prior to Helga’s death had been kept out of sight, now adorned the wall of his study.
Shortly after moving into his new flat, Peppi received two letters. Anna wrote to say she had completed her secretarial studies and had accepted a well-paid post in one of Bremen’s leading industrial firms. She thanked him for his support in the past but emphasised that she was relieved to be able, at long last, to ‘stand on her own two feet’. Peppi’s reply, congratulating her on her achievement, was laconic.
The other letter, from Lucy, was short and to the point. She wanted to know why Peppi had not joined her in London and urged him to make the move as soon as possible. She concluded it with clear language: ‘I simply hate the idea of your being all alone in Munich with nothing but the business and your memories.’
This second letter was music to Peppi’s ears. In his reply, he explained that he had to remain in Munich for a while in order to dispose of the old business. He realised that the maintenance of two shops was no longer advisable.
Some three months later Peppi mentioned his interest in selling the business to Herr Schneider, who had initially joined him as an apprentice shortly after Herr Schultz’s retirement. Settlement by payment of an annuity being unacceptable to Peppi, Schneider began to look around for a suitable financial package. As was to be expected, Herr Schneider, who had no financial experience or acumen, took his time. Peppi shrugged his shoulders and waited.
2. Anna’s Wedding and Lucy’s Doctorate
One evening, when Peppi returned home after work, he was surprised to find a letter from Anna. She had not written since her graduation and, truth be told, Peppi was not disturbed by her silence. He glanced over the letter as he unpacked his sandwiches, and came to an abrupt halt. Anna wrote that she had married Otto Schwartz. They had had ‘a discreet ceremony followed by an intimate reception’, to which they invited only a few close friends, most of them protestant clergymen and their wives, and Otto’s widowed mother. Anna explained that, as it was a ‘solemn religious occasion’, she thought Peppi would not be comfortable. An epitaph, added to make amends, read: ‘I very much hope you will find the time to visit us soon. Otto would love to meet you.’
Peppi was stunned. His sandwiches tasted like rubber and the nip of Slivovitz had no zest. For a few seconds, he looked thoughtfully at ‘Adam and Eve’, which concealed the safe housing his special bottle. His instant problem, though, was the pain in his heart: not an issue to be discussed with Theophil. After a while, Peppi rose to his feet and began to pace the room. When he had made up his mind he grabbed the telephone.
“You alright, Papa?” asked Lucy as soon as he announced himself.
“As well as can be expected! Lucy – were you invited to Anna’s wedding?”
“Don’t you think this is something to discuss with her, Papa? I don’t want to come between the two of you.”
“You won’t; I promise. Just tell me the truth.”
“Yes, she invited me. But I didn’t go.”
“Because she told you I wasn’t asked?”
“That was one of the reasons, Papa; and I told her so. I wrote back and said: ‘It’s up to you whom you invite; but I am not coming’.”
“You mentioned another reason for not going over. What was it?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise; but I might as well tell you now.”
“Well?”
“My viva had been fixed for the very day after Anna’s wedding!”
“Your viva?”
“Yes, Papa: my viva voce – the oral examination of my doctoral thesis. I have been reading for a PhD in Cambridge for the last two and half years.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“But now it’s finished: and you’ve got it!”
“Well, I had a pleasant viva. I’m optimistic; and so is my supervisor! But you cannot really tell until the examiners have submitted their report.”
Peppi rejoiced at the good news. His anger over his rejection by Anna gave way to a solid feeling of satisfaction and pride. The ensuing euphoria dispersed the cloud of darkness that had engulfed him.
“What were you researching, Lucy?”
“The thesis deals with illuminated books of the Anglo-Saxon period.”
“Then you are bound to pass,” Peppi announced. “You know more about them than any other person in the field!”
“Except my supervisor and the examiners! Papa, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I have come up with a new theory. One of the examiners is an arch conservative, and I’m departing from her views.”
“With good arguments and backed by proof, I’m sure!”
“So I believe; but I wasn’t going to tell you until I had the piece of paper in my hand.”
“I’m sure it’ll be alright. Do you know what this means to me?”
“The first Doctor Stölzenfeld in the family?”
“That’s the main point, of course. But there is another point, Lucy. I have had plenty of luck throughout my life; and I needed it! True, I worked my guts out. I never gave myself a rest. All the same, fortune was on my side! Yours is a solid achievement – your own work; your own creation. This is splendid news. If they don’t pass you, we’ll publish your work without their blessing!”
“Thanks; but, Papa, I too had a lucky break.”
“Luck – how come?”
“From the start, I was certain that my type of illuminated book originated in Ireland. But my conclusions were based on circumstantial evidence. I couldn’t lay my hands on a single manuscript to prove my point. The Vikings and Normans destroyed everything. The only hope was for a find across the Channel. Others tried and came up with a blank. So did I, initially.”
“Well?”
“On the final day of a break I took some time ago, I had a last browse in an antiquarian bookshop in Toulouse. I was about to walk out empty handed when I bumped into an old man emerging from another aisle. He fell over and, as I helped him to get up, I saw a book that had dropped from a shelf housing collections of old sermons. I was about to put it back when I saw that it was what I had been looking for. It must have been on that wrong shelf for years!”
“What a strange coincidence,” said Peppi trying hard to hide his excitement. “Lucy, what did this old fellow look like?”
“He was almost as tall as you, Papa; and he wore old fashioned clothes. Still, what struck me most was the way he looked at me. It was a friendly look; but his glance went through me – as if he could see right into my soul.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“I insisted on treating him to a coffee. He was reluctant but in the end agreed. He looked old, Papa, but not at all frail.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
“He is Professor Dr L.M. Theophilius, a philosopher from Heidelberg. Judging by his accent, he is a German from the North.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“When I told him about my thesis, he said I might find some books in a village near Dublin. He said he had discovered some interesting unknown manuscripts there in his own field.”
“His own field?”
“Theology. He averred that more rubbish had been written on this subject than on any other.”
“And you found some further manuscripts in the place he recommended?”
“I did indeed!” said Lucy.
“Did he give you his card?”
“No. But he suggested I look him up in his Faculty if I happened to come over to Heidelberg. But Papa, why are you so interested in him?”
“Idle curiosity,” replied Peppi nonchalantly. His heart, though, was beating fast. Was it possible that Theophil had decided to assist Lucy? But why had he chosen to reveal himself to her? Why did he not just nudge her?
“What a scream you are, Papa,” Lucy broke the ensuing silence. “Just a few minutes ago you were mad. And now you are asking a lot of friendly questions about a total stranger! Still, I am glad the storm is over.”
“It is, rather. There is an old saying, which I think your Dr L.M. Theophilius is familiar with: you win some, you lose some. Your success, is also my victory. So to hell with Anna’s petty mindedness.”
“I haven’t got my degree yet, Papa!”
“You will,” said Peppi.
“Let’s hope so. But now tell me – you are no longer furious with Anna, correct?”
“I’ll put it down to experience. But I’m not travelling to Bremen. If Anna wants to see me, she and her Otto can take the train to Munich.”
“Fair enough. And, Papa, it’s high time you came over to London. Mother would not have wanted you to remain all alone in Munich, living on hot dogs, hamburgers and sandwiches; and drinking more Slivovitz than is good for you!”
“Now, now, Doctor Lucy – don’t you dare criticise your old father. But alright: I’ll make the move within three months.”
3. Theophil Explains
Peppi cleared the table and washed the dishes. He then slid into his comfortable chair, took his special bottle and raised it to his lips. As always, the drink had a sedative effect followed by a sensation of inner peace.
“And how are you, Theophil?” he asked as soon as he felt the other’s presence. “Or should I say: Herr Professor Dr L.M. Theophilius?”
“Now, now, Joseph-Dieter Freiherr von Stölzenfeld,” chuckled the voice in his head. “As the British say: ‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit!’ You agree, don’t you?”
“You have a point there. And please accept my thanks. It was good of you to help her.”
“Your daughter is a nice and outspoken lady! I like the way she dubbed you a ‘scream’.”
“But don’t you think mine was a natural reaction?”
“It depends, Peppi. What you experienced was a sudden transition from hot fury to sheer bliss, or as the Rabbis of old used to say: ‘From abysmal depth to a high plateau’. Would you, my dear Peppi, call this ‘natural’?”
“Put yourself in my position, Theophil – wouldn’t you have reacted in the same way?”
“But, my boy, I have no hot emotions, no sexual drive and, of course, no family affiliation. How can I possibly put myself in your place? Still, I suspect you wanted my advice about moving to London. Actually, it may be a good idea: take Lucy’s advice!”
“I must first dispose of the business here.”
“You’ll do that sooner than expected!”
“May I ask you just one question, Theophil?”
“You want to know why I approve of Lucy although she is a devout Christian?”
“Well, yes.”
“To discard all believers would be just as irrational as to grant my support to every ‘sinner’. Shall we say that I approve of Lucy’s personality. She is, as I have said, a nice lady.”
“Thanks, Theophil.”
“Don’t mention it. But now, Peppi, it is my turn to be curious. How do you propose to reply to Anna?”
“I’ll send her a cheque – as a wedding gift. But I’ll tell her that I shan’t be travelling up to Bremen.”
“Why not add that they are welcome to visit you here or, later on, in London?”
“Good idea. Thanks for the suggestion!”
“Always glad to assist my friends.”
Theophil’s prediction concerning the business came true sooner than Peppi had expected. A few days later, the owner of an antiques shop in Hamburg offered to acquire Schultz & Stölzenfeld, taking Schneider on as Junior Partner.