One Perfect Summer

chauffeur drops us off at the door and hurries to get her bags out of the boot. A doorman takes them from him and we’re ushered inside to the lobby.
    ‘I will call you tomorrow,’ she says to her chauffeur, before turning to Lukas. ‘He’s an excellent driver. You can have him, if you like. I’ll arrange it.’
    ‘Thank you, Mother,’ Lukas says, caught off guard by her generosity. ‘But I still have my car.’
    ‘I thought you sold it.’
    I’m glad someone is clearing this up.
    ‘Not yet,’ he replies.
    She signs in at reception and Lukas takes the key. We go to the lift and press the button for the sixth floor.
    ‘Your father wants Klaus to return,’ she muses as the lift starts to climb.
    ‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘I can make do without him.’
    She humphs again. ‘We’ll see.’
    Frau Heuber is in the penthouse and it’s spectacular – panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the river and rooftops of Cambridge. The sun is just beginning to set. I notice that Lukas, not his mother, tips the doorman when he arrives with the bags.
    ‘Wow!’ I enthuse, peering out of the window at the rows of boats lined up at the Magdalene Bridge punting station.
    ‘I suppose it’s only for two days,’ she says snootily.
    How can this not be good enough for her?
    ‘It was very kind of you to come,’ Lukas says, not asking the question that’s certainly been plaguing my mind: why did she come?
    She joins me at the window and looks down.
    ‘I should like to go on a punt,’ she says.
    ‘I can take you,’ I offer uneasily.
    She regards me with alarm.
    ‘Alice is a punter,’ Lukas interjects with an anxious glance at his mother.
    ‘A punter?’ she snorts.
    ‘Yes, I work as a tour guide.’
    ‘You work as a tour guide ?’
    Sorry, is there something wrong with her hearing?
    ‘Alice has been able to pay her own way through university,’ Lukas says calmly.
    ‘Well, my parents have helped too,’ I add quickly.
    ‘But you pay your own rent,’ he says.
    ‘That’s true.’
    ‘How very interesting,’ she says flatly, turning away from the window. ‘My son, I have run out of indigestion tablets. Could you go downstairs and ask the receptionist to get me some?’
    ‘Er, why don’t I ask on the way to dinner?’ he suggests.
    ‘No, I think I should like them to get some for me now,’ she replies with an air of finality.
    He glances at me apprehensively and then gives a little nod, before leaving the two of us alone. Her icy gaze falls on me.
    ‘Perhaps we would be more comfortable through here.’
    I follow her nervously to a small, but stylish living-room area. She indicates the sofa for me, before settling herself in a chair.
    ‘You have been seeing my son for some time,’ she says.
    I nod carefully. ‘Almost a year.’
    ‘You know of his situation?’
    ‘I’m not sure what you’re referring—’
    ‘He was to be engaged to Rosalinde Pfeifer by the end of the year.’
    I jolt at the sound of her name. ‘I knew he was set to marry her at some point. By definition, I thought that meant they were already engaged.’ I try to keep my cool, but my heart is hammering inside my chest.
    ‘No announcement had been made. It was not official. Not yet.’
    I don’t know what she expects me to say. Eventually she continues.
    ‘Lukas is not my husband’s heir. He will not inherit the house. That right falls to my eldest son and, his son after him.’ Markus and Maximilian, I presume.
    ‘I’m not after him for his money, if that’s what you mean.’ I find my courage. ‘I just really like him.’ Her eyes narrow. ‘ Love him,’ I correct myself.
    ‘Then surely you want what’s best for him?’
    ‘Of course.’ I shrug, feigning nonchalance. ‘But he’s amazingly bright, you know. I think he’s capable of choosing that for himself.’
    She regards me for a long moment. I don’t know how I manage it, but I don’t break eye contact, and neither does she. Finally she nods.
    ‘So be it.’
    So be what?
    I never get an answer to that question because Lukas returns.
    ‘Rosalinde has met someone else,’ he tells me later that night as he walks me back to Jessie’s.
    ‘Oh.’ I frown. ‘When did you discover this?’
    ‘When you went to the bathroom during dinner.’
    ‘And how do you feel about it?’
    ‘It’s for the best.’
    ‘Does your mother agree?’
    ‘What do you think?’ He gives me a sidelong glance. ‘She can’t force me to do anything.’
    ‘Did she