Berlin blood

“This was to be expected,” Franz started the engine and they drove away. — What exactly? — Charlotte was interested in her brother’s remark. He rarely spoke after such meetings — That she will perceive everything like that. I suggest we split up at least for today, let you go to August, I’ll take you, Agnet — to Arthur, and I’ll come alone to the apartment. We’re all on edge right now and it’s simply impossible, we won’t be able to think right now. — Why do you say that? — Agnet intervened in the conversation. — I’m very well. — It only seems so to you, in fact, you will come home and begin to think about the situation a hundred times and look for thousands of solutions, and find the best answers, and regret that you answered. We will all do this, that’s why I propose to separate at least for the evening. “Yes, you’re probably right,” Agnet agreed. Everyone really felt terrible, but at the same time they also felt some kind of relief. Charlotte attributed this to the fact that she had finally told her mother everything that she had been thinking about her all these years. She looked at Augustus, who was sitting in front, and once again told herself that she had made the right choice. Agnet sat with her head thoughtfully resting on Arthur’s shoulder, who was stroking her shoulder. He felt her sadness and was determined that he would not let her think about it for long. Franz, in truth, knew about Augustus’s plan to propose to Charlotte and found a good excuse to bring them both. Besides, he needed to think for himself, he pressed the gas pedal: he wanted to be home as soon as possible. He looked at his sisters in the rearview mirror, feeling how exhausted they were. Franz was also glad that it was not Arthur sitting next to him, but the already completely familiar Augustus, with whom he had to work and communicate in an informal setting. Today, when Franz was already getting ready, and Scholz was still rustling some folders, they had the following conversation: — Franz, wait. — Yes, what is it? — Franz didn’t want to linger, it was a long day. “I wanted to ask you something, listen,” he was worried, it was clear from him that the question he wanted to ask was clearly not so simple. -Have you ever heard Charlotte talk about marriage? — What do you mean? — Franz decided to clarify whether the idea that came to his mind was correct. “I didn’t want to drag this out for too long…” August drawled. Franz immediately tensed. — What is this? — He frowned, at that moment very much like his sisters, this expression was inherited from their mother. — This illegal connection of ours. “I wanted to propose to her,” August clarified. He pulled out a small box, which contained a rather nice little ring. Franz chuckled. Wow, after everything that happened, Augustus is still capable of doubting something. Although… After all, Charlotte could really become stubborn. “I haven’t heard anything bad or good from her about this, but she doesn’t share much of her romantic experiences with me.” I think what’s more important to her is how you do it and what it will mean for you. She doesn’t like noise and pathos, and besides, you know, as soon as she thinks that you want power over her, she will refuse without thinking. Our Charlotte loves freedom; on her fifteenth birthday she ran away from home to celebrate it in a local church and not have to deal with fancy guests. — That is, if I present it to her simply, but with taste, she will agree? — I think yes. She is changeable, but some emotions, things, feelings are not erased from her heart for a long time. Franz caught Charlotte’s gaze again in the mirror and closed his eyes slightly, showing that they were already approaching and everything was in order. They arrived at August’s house. It was clear from the sister’s condition that she was barely restraining herself from crying. Franz mentally wished August to take his time and give Charlotte some rest. They went to Arthur’s apartment, which was very close — you could walk there. *** — Charlotte, tell me, do you love me? — he asked this when he opened the massive patterned doors of the entrance to her. Here, unlike the stairs of the house where Charlotte lived with her brother and sister, it breathed well and was a little cool. The white walls are illuminated by small lamps and seem to shine. The marble of the stairs is also light, it is clearly visible. Overall, the wide corridors and bays create a feeling of cleanliness and tranquility. They stepped onto the third floor, where Augustus’s apartment was located. Finally, Charlotte gathered her thoughts to answer. She didn’t care what Augustus might think as they climbed and she remained silent. With a heavy heart, she returned to reality from fresh memories of her parents’ home, so her voice was still thoughtful, contradicting the playful meaning of the words: — This is such well-known information, August Scholz, that I simply don’t want to say it. She decided that this was his way of trying to distract her and was grateful. It’s good that they didn’t go home together; with their brother and sister they would have tried to calm down until late at night, discussing what had happened over and over again. A vicious circle of resentment would torment them in turn, although now Charlotte only wanted to never think about her parents again. August laughed. Of course, they spoke words of love to each other more than once; he himself did not know why he asked this. To start a conversation? Just at that moment he opened the door to his new apartment, where Charlotte had never been before. It was as if the bitterness and resentment had flown away from her, and she opened her eyes. “Wow,” the girl gasped. Of course, just by the look of the stairs, one could understand that the apartment would not be easy, but she did not expect this. Charlotte just managed to catch herself and thought not to be too surprised and ate how she held her jaw when she saw where they would now live. — Like? -August smiled. — Where did you get all this? “Charlotte saw the situation. — To tell the truth, many things were in my old house, I bought them at auction, but it turned out that not everything had been sold yet. I would like to return my parents' mansion, but I’m not sure that these expenses are worth it. The corridor was spacious and large, white paint — Charlotte definitely liked it more than the blue one that was there before — on the walls. There was a small chandelier on the ceiling, but there was enough light from it. At the end there was a wardrobe with a full-length mirror, a little further there was a switch. On the left there was a door, also covered with white paint, on the right there was a small table with all sorts of nonsense: keys, the cap that Augustus had just taken off, gloves. Charlotte curiously pulled aside one drawer and found tools there. The next thing she found was a small, empty room that resembled a storage room. Charlotte locked it and went diagonally to another door, which led to a larger room, two large windows of which looked out onto the main streets. August watched her with tenderness; it was clear that until the girl examined the entire apartment, she would not calm down. Charlotte moved from room to room, and August settled down in the living room. Through his efforts, the apartment was filled with luxury items, which Charlotte always wanted to see more than among the worn wallpaper and furniture tired from long use. And yet he tried to maintain comfort, so sometimes, in response to Charlotte’s funny cries like: “August, is the bathroom made of granite?!” — he answered: “You better look how roomy it is…”. “Pervert,” Charlotte giggled, entering the living room to inspect her too. August watched her from the wide sofa against the wall. During the day, a lot of light from the window probably falls on it, but heavy curtains protect it from too strong rays. Nearby there is a cabinet full of books, so that you can simply reach out your hand to pull out one standing on the edge. Charlotte ran her fingers along the spines, recognizing some of the titles and noting that she hadn’t read much. — Are these all yours? August nodded. — Yes, although I’m just going to read some of them, they were in my father’s office. Charlotte smiled, remembering the lifeless, neat rows of the collector’s edition on her parents' mantelpiece. Augustus’s books have clearly been read, perhaps more than once. August was obviously working in the living room; there was a table with a typewriter, already littered with papers. There was a soft carpet underfoot, the chair behind the workstation was trimmed with soft fabric, and everything here seemed soft, even the light from the floor lamps on either side of the sofa. Charlotte decided to inspect the kitchen (there was nothing else to hide behind the last door) later, or even in the morning. Now she approached August. — So. What’s the plan? — She sat down on his lap. “You’ve had a hard day, especially the evening, so it’s up to you to decide.” Charlotte paused. “I didn’t think I’d tell them all this… I couldn’t restrain myself.” All this has been accumulating for many years, it always seemed to me that they deserve any reproaches from us. And yet, I’m surprised that I don’t feel shame. — So you did everything right. Charlotte,” he looked seriously into her eyes. — why don’t we get married? — Do you think this is necessary? — She lowered her gaze. “I want to show everyone that we are together.” So that your parents do not have rights over you, as is customary in a conservative society. So that you can be protected by my name. — Well, we still live together now, right? — she said half-questioningly. — I don’t mind. August picked Charlotte up and carried her into the bedroom. A large bed that could accommodate three or even four people at once, it was made a little darker, but it harmonized well with the beige walls. August laid her on the bed and Charlotte felt how soft the feather bed was under the covers. On both sides there are dark wood bedside tables, on which there are the same small cozy lamps as in the entire apartment, and there is a large wardrobe against the wall. Then August blocked her view, pulling her into a long kiss. — Would you like me to show you something else? — Augustus pulled away from her lips with difficulty. — Yes? “Get up,” he extended his hand to her. Behind the curtain was a door to a small balcony on which there were two chairs and a table. The moon was shining clearly and the administration building was visible ahead. Charlotte, feeling the fresh breeze ruffle her hair, inhaled the aroma of the street with pleasure. *** Agnet, having arrived home with Arthur, hoped to find peace. Partly she didn’t care where to sleep. She had a headache from the scandal and the excitement she had experienced. “Please,” Arthur gave her his hand, and they entered his small apartment. It immediately became noticeable that he lived alone and therefore no one kept order at home. “Yes, thank you,” Agnet entered the threshold. Small hall, hanger for outerwear. On the left is a door to a small living room. The room is lit by a dim chandelier, some cartridges are empty. The walls, an indefinable color in the semi-darkness, are depressing. — Shall I make tea? “Yes, of course,” she sat down on the sofa and, looking at a photograph on one of the shelves of the closet that stood in the corner, approached with curiosity. In the photo there was a boy of about five years old and a man, both standing straight, but with hooligan smiles on their faces. The boy put his hands on his hips and made his chest look like a wheel, while the man, on the contrary, slouched a little. Suddenly Agnet heard a sharp and loud sound in the kitchen, as if something had fallen. — Arthur? — the girl called him, but no one answered. — Arthur! Agnet entered the next room, barely moving her feet. She didn’t have time to look around when a man in a medical mask ran into her, pushed her from the passage and, throwing a frying pan somewhere in the corridor with a crash, jumped out of the apartment. Agnet, frightened to the point of fainting, leaned on the doorway. Only a minute later, having come to her senses, she fell to Arthur’s motionless body, surrounded by fragments of cups. — Arthur! — the girl turned him over. — AHHHHH! Agnet covered her mouth with her hand, holding back the scream that was torn again. Arthur’s face was covered in blood, quickly running from a small wound on his forehead, apparently left by a frying pan. Need to call someone! Charlotte? No, they have no time for that. It’s better for Franz, maybe he hasn’t even gone to bed yet. She began to frantically dial the number when she first got to the phone. “Franz,” she exhaled frantically into the phone. — Agnet? What’s happened? “She clearly woke him up, her voice sounded hoarse. “Arthur was hit on the head,” was all the girl could say before bursting into tears. Franz said: “I’ll be there now,” and hung up. Franz woke up immediately and all he could think about was his sister and her condition. He jumped into the car, on the way thinking about what could have happened and what the reason for it was. Thief? Agnet and Arthur had no ill-wishers, which means this is either a random person or one of Augustus’ enemies. The last thought might seem absurd, but for some reason Franz became more and more convinced of it. Well. He’ll find out who it was. The main thing now is to calm my sister down.