‘What?’ Johann said. ‘What would you do? Would you pull out your dagger and stab me in the heart with it? You know you can’t beat me in a straight fight any more—dagger or otherwise. You would do better to try and shoot me. And over what?’
Ava came between them. ‘Stop it, the pair of you! You’ve had too much to drink and now you’re squabbling like children.’ She moved towards Trudi and linked arms with her. ‘I’m walking the rest of the way with Trudi, and if you’ve not settled your differences by the time we reach the bar, I’m going straight home.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Johann said. He turned to Volker. ‘Let’s forget about it. What do you say? Blame it on the wine.’
Volker scoffed. ‘It’s forgotten,’ he said, but as they set off again, Johann doubted it was. All the way to the bar, Volker didn’t say another word, and although Johann did well to hide it, his friend had unnerved him. While he’d witnessed Volker’s temper many times, and seen the often bloody results that followed, he’d never been on the receiving end of it before.
The bar Volker had in mind for a nightcap was no more than a ten minute walk from the restaurant on Ludwigstrasse, one of Munich’s four royal avenues, having been named in honour of King Ludwig I of Bavaria. It was more in keeping with the usual type of establishment Volker chose to frequent. It was opulent, with gilt carvings on the ceiling and walls and on the many framed mirrors, whose glass reflected the soft glow of candlelight, lending to the golden aura that greeted the party as they entered.
It soon became apparent that Volker was on good terms with the proprietor here, too, because within a few minutes they were set up with a bottle of Marillenschnaps from Austria, at a table in the centre of the room, where everyone had a view of the tables around them, most of which were occupied. The ease with which they had been seated suggested to Johann that his friend had planned for them to go there all along, having reserved what he must have considered to be the best table in the house.
They were all set for a cordial end to what had on the whole been a pleasant evening, despite Volker’s unusual temperament, but it seemed that his sour mood continued to stalk him, rendering him silent to the point of brooding as he downed his first glass.
‘It’s a good bottle, Volker,’ Johann said, trying to encourage him into conversation.
Ava joined in. ‘Apricot Schnaps is my favourite,’ she said. ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t,’ Volker said, and then he picked up the bottle, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and poured himself another glass.
‘I like Himbeergeist best,’ Trudi said with a giggle. ‘I love raspberries.’
‘What about you, Johann?’ Ava asked. ‘What’s your favourite?’
Johann laughed. ‘In truth, I prefer to drink beer.’
Volker scoffed under his breath. ‘That’s because you have no breeding.’
Not wishing to ruin the evening further, Johann chose to ignore the remark, although he could have thumped Volker there and then for saying it. He watched him down another shot of Schnaps and reach for the bottle again.
‘Steady there, Volker. You’ve already had most of the wine this evening.’ He smiled to make light of it. ‘I don’t want to have to carry you home.’
Volker’s hand froze on the bottle. He turned to Johann and stared at him. ‘Now you think I can’t take my drink, Is that it?’
Before Johann could answer, Ava stood up. She was frowning. ‘I can’t stand any more of this,’ she said. ‘Come on, Trudi. I think we’d better leave this pair to resolve their differences without us. I’ll see you back to your accommodation.’
Johann got to his feet. ‘Ava, I—’
‘I told you what would happen, Johann. Now it’s too late.’
‘At least let me escort you?’
‘We’ll be fine by ourselves. It’s not far.’ Ava signalled for their coats.
‘Well, can I still see you tomorrow?’ Johann asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Ava didn’t answer straight away. She made Johann wait as she and Trudi were helped into their coats. They began to leave, and when they were almost at the door, Ava turned back.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Good night, Volker,’ Trudi said, her doe eyes trying to find his.
Volker gave no reply. He didn’t even look up from the table as Johann went to the door and watched the girls leave.
Returning to Volker, Johann sat heavily in the chair opposite him and slapped the table, stirring his friend from the funk he had clearly descended into.
‘Well, thank you, Volker,’ he said with no pretence at hiding the sarcasm in his tone. ‘The evening was a total disaster. You know, I’m beginning to think that our eagerness to win Ava’s affection could well turn her off both of us altogether.’
Volker stopped turning his empty glass and looked up at last. ‘Not you, Johann. I can see now that it’s you she wants. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? It should be Ava and Trudi you’re apologising to.’