1 year later
"Hurry up, we are going to be late!" I grabbed the keys and put on my beige fur coat. Berlin was freezing even though it was only October. Petra was still getting ready. I went upstairs to check on her. School starts in ten minutes and we are definitely not going to be on time. I decided not to remind her about that again or even shout at her, which I've been doing almost every day lately. I am quite disappointed with myself. Is that some kind of a mid-life crisis? Anyway, it was my fault we were rushing. I often find myself unable to plan things properly. It feels like I'd lost the track of time.
"Be a good girl," I said as Petra was getting out of the car. "I'll pick you up at one." She looked at me and smiled. Yesterday she'd persuaded me to let her go to that amusement park with her friend and skip the piano class. I'd seen the improvement and she does play well for her age but I'm afraid she might be losing the interest in music. It would be silly to waste the talent she has.
That thought often crosses my mind: would she give up on music if I didn't insist on her going to the music school? What if I let her quit and tried to teach her myself at home? Only if I had time would I know the answer to that question that won't let me sleep.
I try not to worry about Petra that much but it's difficult when I barely even see her.
Autumn is the busiest time of a year for our orchestra as we are preparing for our performance in December. This year's event is called "Alle Zusammen". Nine philharmonic orchestras will join and perform on the same stage, here, in Berlin. The Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, now led by Herman Fitz, chose to play "Danse Macabre", a composition by Camille Saint-Saens.
After Lydia had left Berlin, I took a month just for myself to get used to my new reality. Petra had stayed at my mother's for the first few weeks and then spent some days with Lydia in Sweden, where she's now conducting and composing for The Royal Swedish Orchestra. I did not agree with Petra seeing her after what had happened but the girl insisted on visiting her mother and I felt like I couldn't take that away from her.
Petra seems to be taking the break-up better than I am. Although, I should probably be worried about her getting more and more quiet. When I ask her how she feels, she usually just turns around and pretends not to hear me. I feel useless as I don't know how to comfort her. I want to be here for my daughter whenever she needs me but she is too young to be asked serious questions.
Before Lydia moved away, we'd wanted to explain things to Petra but we couldn't have found the right words. Cheating? Accusations from the media? Possible responsibility for Krista Taylor's suicide? No. It would've been selfish to burden an innocent child with that.
I drove back home. It started raining but besides that I couldn't hear anything in that heartless apartment. I didn't like it even though I'd changed almost everything. For instance, when I'd overcome the unpleasant first days without Lydia, I started with the kitchen. Pots, plates,... What was there to change? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Lydia has an impeccable taste, I thought.
Bare colourless walls were what had been bothering me.
I'd gone to the nearest store and hoped no one would see me as I'd been wearing the filthiest possible tracksuit and hadn't washed my hair in ages.
After painting the walls blue I thought I'd regret it for I felt as if I'd covered something that used to mean the world to me.
Ignoring those doubts, I kept the walls blue.
From time to time I still feel the black, covered up, silenced and pushed aside. I want it back and I wish I'd never had to choose a different colour. Then I remember all the nights I wept helplessly while Lydia was sleeping just inches away. Deep down, I still feel like I could forgive her one day but that's just a crazy idea I should get over.
