box, they’d brought a rag doll for Margaret and a tambourine for Hans. They told Hans to rattle the tambourine if he felt that death was coming near.
‘What shall we do if Hans dies?’ asked Gustav.
Anton thought for a moment, then said, ‘That outhouse with the chimney – it’s probably where they burned dead people. We’ll put him in there.’
‘I don’t want him to die,’ said Gustav.
‘No. I don’t either. I tell you what. Shall I be him? You can have the stethoscope and I’ll lie on the recliner. If I feel I’m dying, I’ll bang the tambourine and you have to come and give me resuscitation.’
‘All right. I’ll stay with Frau Bünden for a while. She’s not looking good. Then you bang the tambourine and I’ll come.’
Gustav decided that Frau Bünden resembled Frau Teller, who kept the flower stall on Unter der Egg. She was too young to die. He sat on her bed and told her to think about all the flowers she was going to return to: roses and lilies, tulips, daffodils, edelweiss and blue gentians. He said, ‘You’re safe in Davos now, Frau Bünden. It’s the best place in Switzerland for you. What you have to do is
concentrate
on getting well. Don’t think about the TB, right? Think about flowers.’
Frau Bünden said, ‘I’m very weak, Nurse Perle. My lungs are full of blood.’
‘I know they are. I’m not Nurse Perle now, by the way, I’m Doctor Perle. Doctor Zwiebel and I are going to save you. You just have to believe us. All right? This is Davos.’
Then he heard the rattle of the tambourine and said, ‘Forgive me a moment, Frau Bünden, I have to go and look after Hans. I’ve got to make sure Hans doesn’t die.’
Gustav adjusted the stethoscope round his neck and went out onto the veranda. Hans was lying very still, with his eyes closed. The sun shone on his dark hair and on his soft limbs, curled on the recliner. Doctor Perle knelt down beside him and stroked his arm. ‘Hans,’ he said, ‘are you dying?’
‘Can’t you see I’m dying?’ said Hans. ‘Put your lips on my lips and revive me, Nurse Perle …’
‘I’m not Nurse Perle, I’m Doctor Perle now,’ said Gustav, ‘and I’m not putting my lips on your lips.’
‘You have to,’ said Hans, ‘or I’m gone. You’ll have to burn my body in the outhouse …’
‘I’m not doing that lip thing.’
‘Gustav,’ said Anton, sitting up suddenly, ‘don’t be a baby. This is how you revive someone. You put your mouth on their mouth. We learned it in school. Don’t you remember? So, go on.’
Hans lay down again. He began to moan.
‘Hush,’ said Doctor Perle. ‘I’m going to revive you now. Here.’
Anton turned his face towards Gustav. Slowly and reluctantly, Gustav brought his mouth to Anton’s and lightly touched his lips. He felt Anton lift his arm and put it round his neck and bring his head nearer, so that the two mouths were now pressed hard against each other and Gustav could feel Anton’s face, burning hot against his own. He’d thought he would pull away at once, but he stayed there. He liked the feel of Anton gathering his head in his arm. He closed his eyes. He felt that no moment of his life had been as strangely beautiful as this one.
Then he pulled away. ‘Are you all right, Hans?’ he whispered. ‘Are you going to live?’
‘Yes,’ murmured Hans. ‘Thanks to you. I’m going to live, thanks to you.’
Sankt Alban took over their minds.
The time they spent with Adriana and Armin – going for walks, swimming at the pool, taking the cable car higher up the mountain towards the Schatzalp, shopping for souvenirs, collecting eggs for Monsieur, lying in the sun, eating meals on the chalet terrace – all these things, enjoyable as they were, became infected with ordinariness. At every moment, they longed to be back at the sanatorium, back in the beautiful pretend world of the dying.
One day, they decided that Frau Bünden had died. They carried her, wrapped in a torn rug,
‘What shall we do if Hans dies?’ asked Gustav.
Anton thought for a moment, then said, ‘That outhouse with the chimney – it’s probably where they burned dead people. We’ll put him in there.’
‘I don’t want him to die,’ said Gustav.
‘No. I don’t either. I tell you what. Shall I be him? You can have the stethoscope and I’ll lie on the recliner. If I feel I’m dying, I’ll bang the tambourine and you have to come and give me resuscitation.’
‘All right. I’ll stay with Frau Bünden for a while. She’s not looking good. Then you bang the tambourine and I’ll come.’
Gustav decided that Frau Bünden resembled Frau Teller, who kept the flower stall on Unter der Egg. She was too young to die. He sat on her bed and told her to think about all the flowers she was going to return to: roses and lilies, tulips, daffodils, edelweiss and blue gentians. He said, ‘You’re safe in Davos now, Frau Bünden. It’s the best place in Switzerland for you. What you have to do is
concentrate
on getting well. Don’t think about the TB, right? Think about flowers.’
Frau Bünden said, ‘I’m very weak, Nurse Perle. My lungs are full of blood.’
‘I know they are. I’m not Nurse Perle now, by the way, I’m Doctor Perle. Doctor Zwiebel and I are going to save you. You just have to believe us. All right? This is Davos.’
Then he heard the rattle of the tambourine and said, ‘Forgive me a moment, Frau Bünden, I have to go and look after Hans. I’ve got to make sure Hans doesn’t die.’
Gustav adjusted the stethoscope round his neck and went out onto the veranda. Hans was lying very still, with his eyes closed. The sun shone on his dark hair and on his soft limbs, curled on the recliner. Doctor Perle knelt down beside him and stroked his arm. ‘Hans,’ he said, ‘are you dying?’
‘Can’t you see I’m dying?’ said Hans. ‘Put your lips on my lips and revive me, Nurse Perle …’
‘I’m not Nurse Perle, I’m Doctor Perle now,’ said Gustav, ‘and I’m not putting my lips on your lips.’
‘You have to,’ said Hans, ‘or I’m gone. You’ll have to burn my body in the outhouse …’
‘I’m not doing that lip thing.’
‘Gustav,’ said Anton, sitting up suddenly, ‘don’t be a baby. This is how you revive someone. You put your mouth on their mouth. We learned it in school. Don’t you remember? So, go on.’
Hans lay down again. He began to moan.
‘Hush,’ said Doctor Perle. ‘I’m going to revive you now. Here.’
Anton turned his face towards Gustav. Slowly and reluctantly, Gustav brought his mouth to Anton’s and lightly touched his lips. He felt Anton lift his arm and put it round his neck and bring his head nearer, so that the two mouths were now pressed hard against each other and Gustav could feel Anton’s face, burning hot against his own. He’d thought he would pull away at once, but he stayed there. He liked the feel of Anton gathering his head in his arm. He closed his eyes. He felt that no moment of his life had been as strangely beautiful as this one.
Then he pulled away. ‘Are you all right, Hans?’ he whispered. ‘Are you going to live?’
‘Yes,’ murmured Hans. ‘Thanks to you. I’m going to live, thanks to you.’
Sankt Alban took over their minds.
The time they spent with Adriana and Armin – going for walks, swimming at the pool, taking the cable car higher up the mountain towards the Schatzalp, shopping for souvenirs, collecting eggs for Monsieur, lying in the sun, eating meals on the chalet terrace – all these things, enjoyable as they were, became infected with ordinariness. At every moment, they longed to be back at the sanatorium, back in the beautiful pretend world of the dying.
One day, they decided that Frau Bünden had died. They carried her, wrapped in a torn rug,
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