Sunset
It is the most beautiful evening, a deep purple sunset illuminating the lake. Sarah and Phillip are sitting and chatting in the living room, the double door to the balcony wide open. Paul and Solange are out, clearing the way at Sarah’s suggestion.
“I have wondered why my memories of that time are so fragile”, Sarah is saying, “but those were exceptional times too. We left Berlin at the end of 2020, it was in September, at the start of the plague. We had to come back to look after our home here, the place in East London where I still live – when I am there…” she added with a smile. Phillip thinks she is the most attractive woman he’s ever met. He’s determined to clarify Julian’s story, and he thinks Sarah holds the key. Sarah hides her anxiety with this conversation.
Fontane’s birthplace
“But tell me about your last year in Berlin”, Phillip asks Sarah. She takes a sip of the white wine she’s drinking, Phillip warms his whisky glass, glistening in the evening sunshine.
“We knew we had to go. Julian arranged for some work he planned to do in the house when we came back. We took lovely rides deep East and West, in Brandenburg, visited Rheinsberg, the place Friedrich loved, not far from Fontane’s birthplace, Julian was busy with the Owl, we planned our return, went to the Philharmoniker a couple times. I think Julian, once the decision was made, was wholeheartedly supportive of it. He was well, and worked hard when it came to make our move…”
“Was there any indication of a mental problem?”
Lockdown
“Absolutely not. Once in the UK Julian works in the house, and went back to the old gym, until this too was closed by the lockdown. We took long walks, and somehow rediscovered our place. Paul was born the following year, before Julian’s birthday: he was delighted, and so was I.”
Phillip appears to reflect, deep in thought, then: “What about his writing?”
“Julian did not write much during that time. He was busy doing things. We worked in the garden, for as long as I could, and he redecorated the rooms downstairs, and the bathroom. Later he archived his blog.”
“When did things become difficult for him?”
“Later. He was fine for nearly two years. Then he started to have the symptoms associated with his condition coming back, though he was supposed to be cured. He was on antibiotics then until the end, and each of the following year, it got worse.” Sarah speaks nervously now, as if she was reliving those painful years.
Memories
“Where was he being treated?”
“At first at our local surgery, under Gabrielle, I recall, and then by a specialist who was based at the local hospital.”
“Was this Helga?”
“I think so, though my memories of what follows is not very reliable.”
“You kept in touch with Gabrielle, and attempted to contact her again when Paul went to see you this year, is that right?”
“Yes, and this was a failure, she somehow disappeared.” Sarah replies, now visibly unhappy with the way the conversation is going.
Phillip is reflecting. Sarah sips her wine. She gets up to refill Phillip’s glass who protests. Sarah’s wearing a long white dress with a deep top, which shows up her shoulders.
“I have a problem with this”, Phillip says at last. “I have checked the medical registers, everywhere. There is no record of either Gabrielle or Helga… Of course I cannot access Julian’s own medical record. But tell me about Jane.”
Confusion
Sarah attempts a timid smile: “Yes, I know, it is confusing. When we came back, Jane helped us with the house, when she was in the UK. She helped me when Paul was born, and later when Julian was ill. When Julian left us she looked after Paul while I was dealing with everything…”
“May I ask you, Sarah, was Julian in severe pain, before he died?” Phillip regrets the question, but Sarah replies, without hesitation:
“Yes, he was, increasingly, and he was under sedation.”
“Presumably, prescribed by Helga?”
Sarah’s silent. She sips her wine. Then:
“Helga and Gabrielle were figments of Julian’s imagination. Neither of them ever existed outside his novel.”
Phillip puts his glass down. “So, Julian died of his illness, and there is no mystery. The Page is no more autobiographical than any of his other writings?”
Sarah stands up and look out to the darker sunset. The she turns round to face Phillip, the red sunlight illuminates her dress from behind, revealing her shapely naked legs.
“I was looking after my husband. It was increasingly obvious that the pain was overwhelming, although he took it bravely. The hospital were saying he needed another operation. I was against it.”
“And you talked to Jane about this?”
“Yes, we talked, and decided we would oppose this. Jane went to speak with the consultant, and came back with a decision of principle. We would not send Julian to another operation. We talked with him , and he agreed.”
“Sarah, what other decision did you two make?”
Sarah turns toward Phillip, who sees she’s incredibly beautiful and worried, “You have guessed the truth. We agreed to ease Julian’s departure, whenever he felt the pain was too much.”
“Did he?”
Explanation
“He was conscious till the end. He wanted me to protect Paul from the circumstances of his departure. One morning he said he was ready. Jane came, and we said goodbye.”
Phillip stands up and takes Sarah in his arms. “You must explain this to Paul. I am sure he will understand.”
A little later, Phillip asks Sarah about Melissa. “She was a school sweetheart, never more than that. Julian started writing about her surviving murder, and then The Page developed from that. The Coven, Gabrielle, Helga were pure fiction. As Berlin changed in 2019, the atmosphere in the city inspired Julian a more apocalyptic end to the story, although it never was completed. He got busier with other things…”
Solange and Paul are back. Paul says he would prepare dinner. The ladies go to refresh and dress. Phillip decides to help Paul in the kitchen.
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