Chapter 4

Helga

"I need eight beers and eight bratwursts," I say unnecessarily. Of course everything is computerized now, and I've put in the orders in my handheld machine, but old habits die hard.

The old man behind the bar gives me a smile. "I know," he says as he taps on the computer screen nearest to him.

"I'm tired," I say, trying to excuse myself for the slip.

"But it's been a good day for you, yes? And it's almost done," he says, and he's not wrong. We're close to closing time. I'm looking forward to getting back to Ella's place to soak my feet in hot water. I've not done this much physical work in a long time. It feels good and painful at the same time.

I wait for my order as there's no one else at any of my tables. When my order is up, I take four steins in each of my shaky hands. My wrists ache with the strain, but I can still do it. When I deliver the beer, one of the men ogles my plumped up breasts in my uniform. I don't mind, it's part of the outfit, but when he makes an inappropriate comment, I want to give him a slap to remind him of his manners.

"Why don't you let me suck from one of those breasts, Frauline?"

"I bite. Best stick to the beer," I reply frostily. Unfortunately, my comment only brings laughter from the man and his friends. As I walk away, I remind myself this was always part of the job and to let it slide off my back. Men say things like this.

Once the tent is closed, Ella and I walk out to her car together.

"I can't wait to have a shower," she says. "A man spilled beer all over me."

"Thankfully no one would be able to tell in the tent," I reply. The whole place smells of beer and bratwurst.

"True. But I can smell it."

We reach her small car and there's a folded note on the front windshield. Ella picks it up, making a sound of annoyance. I assume it's a parking ticket, but then her demeanor changes. "It's for you. It's got your name written on it."

"Odd," I say, taking the paper. But immediately I recognize the handwriting. A shiver passes through me, and my hand starts to shake and not from the strain of carrying beer all day.

"Is it from Adam?"

I nod and tentatively unfold the note as if it might explode. Due to the tremor in my hand, the note falls on the concrete.

Ella picks it up. "May I read it?"

I nod again, unable to speak. Why won't he leave me alone?

Ella reads the note aloud.

Dearest, Hel.

I understand you needed a break from your work, but to leave Berlin without telling me is cruel. I won't hold it against you. I know how impulsive you can be when you get an idea into your little head. I'm here now and hope we can meet up soon.

Call me.

Always yours,

Adam

"Why would he come all this way?" Ella asks, her eyes reflecting her concern. "Why wouldn't he just message or call? What a psycho."

"He can't. I blocked him on everything."

"I don't like to tell people what I think they should've done, but maybe you should've gotten a restraining order."

I make a sound of disgust. "As if anyone takes those seriously. He hit me once, and then I left. I'd be wasting the police's time."

"But now he's stalking you. He clearly knows where you're staying, and he knows this is my car. Do you think he was on the same flight as you?"

I think about the people on my flight. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention. I never expect to see anyone I know when I fly, it's as if everyone else is an NPC.

"I bet he's tagged you with a tracking device," Ella suggests before I can answer.

"Oh Gott!" I say. "Unlock the car." Immediately I begin looking through my bag that I take everywhere. "I can't find anything," I mutter while I continue to look through its contents with only the little overhead light in the car.

Ella comes over and looks through the weekend bag herself. She takes everything out, including the black lining, and then shakes it upside down. Sure enough, a little round air tracker falls out and bounces twice on the pavement.

I scream with frustration, then I smash it with the heel of one of my black Mary Janes. It makes a cracking sound as I dig my heel in.

"We should tell the police," Ella suggests.

"Tell them what? I've broken the evidence."

"It's illegal to track someone, isn't it?"

"There's nothing they can do without proof," I say, and frankly, I'm too cynical about the whole justice system and too physically tired to care.

She holds up the note. "This is proof."

"Nothing in there suggests he's going to hurt me. Look, maybe he'll realize I'm not interested and find someone new. It's Oktoberfest, after all, and he's a handsome rugby player. And right now, I just want to go to bed and pretend this," I hold up the note, "never happened."

Ella looks at me with indecision. "Promise me that if he does something else, you'll go to the police."

"I promise. I really just want to go home now."

"Okay," Ella says, but despite her words, I can tell she's still deciding whether she's going to drive home or to the police station.

"I promise. If anything else happens, I'll go to the authorities," I say again, and I'm not just appeasing her. I mean it.

She nods and we drive the short distance home.

As I fall asleep in the comfort of Ella's spare bedroom, my body jumps not only from all the physical work I've done today, but from Adam's unhinged behavior. Does he really think I'm going to get back together with him? I don't know, but it worries me he's in Munich. It could be that he's just coincidently here with his friends. A lot of people from around the country come to Munich for Oktoberfest. But then I remind myself he had put a tracker on me. That's not right. Who tracks their girlfriend? Or, more specifically, their ex-girlfriend? This is why I broke up with him. That, and the list of other terrible things he did to me, including hitting me. I turn over in my bed and stare into the darkness. My mind shifts to my old job in Berlin. The last case I lost. The heartbreaking look on my client's face. I close my eyes against all the guilt I have for the cases I couldn't win. I toss and turn in my duvet again. I want to help people, but am I competent enough?

I hear a soft knock at my door. I sit up. "Come in."

Ella comes in wearing pajamas with a sloth and avocado pattern on them. It's difficult not to smile at her. "These walls are paper thin, and I heard you tossing and turning. Are you okay?"

I don't even pretend to be okay and blurt out, "I'm worried about everything in my life."

"Adam?"

"Yes, him and my job. I'm worried I might never have the strength or the courage to go back. Or if I do, that I'm only doing more harm than good because I'm not good enough."

Ella sits on the edge of my bed and gives me a hug. "I don't pretend to know much about your job as a lawyer," she says. She never went to university nor does she have much interest in international law. "But I know you're a very good person. You've always wanted the best for everyone, no matter who they are. You've just had a bit of a hiccup. These things happen. But you're here now, back home, and I'm confident you're going to find your footing again and go back to your job even stronger."

"What if I don't?"

"Then you don't. It's not the end of the world. A lot of people change jobs."

"But I'd be letting all those people down. There aren't enough people that do what I do."

"Oh Hel, you've always cared so much for other people. But they're all strangers. You need to put yourself first sometimes."

"They're only strangers until you know them."

"But, you can't save them all," Ella reminds me, and it's familiar as she always said the same thing to me when I'd help someone when we were young. "And as I've always said, not everyone is worthy of being saved. Remember all the trouble you got in by trying to help the bad boys at school? Adam isn't the first. You're like a moth to the bad boy flame."

I bristle against her words, but she's not wrong. Adam isn't the first unsavory boyfriend I've had, but he's the first one I met in my professional life. We met at a fundraising event for charity and at first I thought, Finally, I've met the man of my dreams. Until he wasn't.

"What do you suggest?" I ask, gritting the words out, but I have no suggestions for myself, so I need to hear what my best friend has to say, even if it hurts. I can't trust my own thoughts as my mind is on a constant loop of Adam stalking me and the guilt over the cases I've lost.

"I suggest," Ella begins, her tone casual, "you think only of this time right now. Throw yourself into being a Kellnerin and then go on a long holiday to somewhere tropical. Then, when you're there, think about whether or not being a human rights lawyer is for you or perhaps a different job in the same field that's less demanding. I doubt you'd be the first to shift the kind of law you practice."

I don't answer but hug her again, and she holds me tight against her.

"This is what friends are for," she reminds me. "Now we need to get some sleep or we won't be able to make as much money as we should, and that would be a waste of an Oktoberfest."

We wake up, have coffee, and share a baguette before heading to Heaven of the Bavarians. I put on my clean dirndl and, at the last moment, tie my apron on the left. Yesterday I had tied it at the back as widows and waitresses do. It worries me that if Adam had seen it, he might have thought I was still in a relationship with him.

"That's the spirit," Ella says noticing my apron. Her own apron is tied at the back.

"I just want to make it clear to Adam, even without words, that I don't consider him my boyfriend." It's breaking the uniform guidelines to have it this way, but the chances anyone will notice or care are slim to none.

"Unfortunately, I don't think Adam cares much for reality," Ella says.

I don't answer but drink my coffee. It's a beautiful autumn morning and the sun is crisp, with the cool air coming through the open window in the kitchen. I'm not going to let anything ruin my momentum this morning.

"Will the band play ‘Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit' again?" a tourist at one of my tables asks me.

I smile as I put down the beer they ordered. "Of course. It's Oktoberfest."

The man tries to engage me in more conversation.

"I'm sorry, I have to work," I say and leave with a smile. All afternoon the tent has been heaving with people, no doubt because it's the perfect sunny autumn day and everyone feels like enjoying the season. I've not even had a lunch break.