Bone and Blood by Margo Gorman Page A

tweed caps, whiskey, Barry’s tea. Tempation to go in and get something for Brigitte. Resist, resist turning into Mum or worse still Gran. Sharp steps down the street, round again and circling back around the arches under the S-Bahn. An Irish pub too. Resist. Roasty summer so now a beer would be welcome. Try German Weihenstephaner. Cooler. Stylish. Tall wooden tables. Here’s a lesson in marketing history. “Oldest still-existing brewery in the world”. How old? 1000 years. Beat that! Good beer too. Imagine Matt here to take Michael’s screwed up face from the blank wall as he chokes on the beer she dares him to put down his neck. Aisling the winner. Thanks to him she developed a taste in beer. Wishing for Matt’s address to send him a postcard. Maybe Dad with 1000 years of history in a gulp. Weihenstephan in Mitte so in the former East. Hardly here in GDR days so what was here? Duck into Hackeche Höfe arching a way through designer goodies, finding postcard and coffee to sober up.
    Out to find U-Bahn and realised it was her U8. Easy to go ‘home’. The aunt was still sitting in the same place she’d left her in. She made polite enquiries about Aisling’s trip out but there was something else on her mind. Aisling sat down after getting the aunt some water and herself some juice. Damn, she’d forgotten the energy drink. She was about to head out again when the aunt asked, ‘Aisling, will you be there in case I need help this evening? ‘
    Help? Aisling recoiled: she didn’t want the old dear beginning to depend on her. Brigitte saw the unspoken response and fumbled with her cardigan – an uncharacteristic gesture – and spoke with her head down, ‘I want to take a shower to-night. I don’t think that I will need help but I am a bit shaky and I’m afraid of falling at this time. I know I will be all right if someone is nearby. If it was after the funeral, I wouldn’t care.’
    Aisling’s reflex action was to say no, sorry, I’m going out but she fancied just staying in and plugging herself into her I-pod.
    â€˜Don’t you have a shower in the morning?’
    â€˜I do but I like to take one sometimes in the evening. It’s easier. I sleep better after a shower and I haven’t slept much this last night. I would just like it if you were there. I don’t need you to do anything.’
    Better to stay than come back to find her on the floor. Avoid complications: lesser of the two evils before a grudging acquiescence. ‘Well, I was just going out for a few minutes but after that I’ll be in.’
    When she came back in, the aunt was already in the bathroom so she left her to it.
    It was nearly 10 o’clock. Aisling came into the living room feeling guilty. She should have given her a shout or something. At first she thought that Brigitte was already in bed. There was no light – just the curtain billowing out with the draught. She jumped when Brigitte spoke from her chair where she sat in a long cotton bathrobe that was a sort of puce pink. Gross.
    â€˜Would you like something to drink?’ the aunt asked.
    â€˜Water would be good. I’ll get a glass.’
    They sat in brittle silence for a while.
    â€˜You’ve been in Berlin a long time?’
    â€˜Delia and Dieter brought me back to Berlin with them when they were visiting Delia’s parents in Manorhamilton. To look after the children.’
    â€˜So you were a nanny?’
    â€˜More like a member of the family.’’
    â€˜So didn’t you want to go home when the war broke out?’
    â€˜Go home! That was my worst fear at first – greater than my fear of war. I loved this city. It was beautiful and modern. There were shops and stores and people lived in apartments with running water and bathrooms. There were more buses, trams and cars than horses – and even then they had bags to collect the horseshit so that it