The Glassblower(25)

They went to bed shortly after. But instead of chattering excitedly as they had the night before, each was silent with her own thoughts.



Marie had wanted to ask Heimer to be put back on the painting bench the next day. After the squabble, however, she wouldn’t dare ask such a thing. But how on earth was she going to get through the whole day so close to the pots and brushes, if she wasn’t allowed to paint? The very thought was painful, and she held her belly as though she were having her menstrual pains.



Thomas had looked over at her at least five times that afternoon! And his eyes had unmistakably—and shamelessly—fixed on her blouse. Fervently hoping not to blush, Ruth had tucked her plaits back over her shoulder in a show of nonchalance, but she saw how his eye followed the action greedily. Now she put her hands to her hair in the dark and fixed her plaits. If she kept them bound up tight like this all night, her hair would have waves in the morning. Oh, if only she could let her hair down at work! Then he would see her chestnut-brown tresses at their best.

Did Thomas really have his eye on her? Or had she been imagining things? No, she was sure she hadn’t been. Perhaps he was lying in bed and thinking of her at that very moment? Ruth was overjoyed. The idea that she might have caught Thomas Heimer’s eye was almost too good to be true. She was delighted that the dreadful prospect of ending up an old maid was fading a little. Maybe a happy ending awaited her after all. Thomas wasn’t just handsome and a good singer; he was also the son of one of the richest men in the village. Marry one of the Heimers and you had a good life; that much was certain. After all, it looked like Eva lacked for nothing: she had such lovely clothes and a string of beads at each wrist and a necklace as well. Ruth sighed gently. Maybe Thomas would give her a present like that soon?



That fat, self-satisfied, short-tempered old fool!

Johanna’s thoughts were trained on one of the Heimer men as well, but she was thinking of Wilhelm. She asked herself for the umpteenth time why she had even opened her mouth. Her boldness had quite gone since the morning, and now she was only angry at herself. She ought to have known that not every man was as mild-mannered as Father. And looking back on it, she realized that it had been the height of folly to make her criticism at the table while everyone else was listening. She had to make an effort to unclench her jaws; she had been grinding her teeth so hard that her face hurt. She would never be able to tell Peter about this because he would fall all over himself laughing. Well, damage done need fear no mockery, as the saying went. “That fearless tongue of yours will get you in trouble one of these days!” Peter had said that often enough. Johanna took a deep breath. She just hadn’t been thinking. She had been so angry at Eva that she had simply burst out with her thoughts, despite the fact that it was neither the time nor place for it. But tomorrow, she’d hold her tongue all day long, she promised herself.





12

Four weeks later Wilhelm Heimer paid them their first wages—a mere fifteen marks each for a full month’s work!

Johanna was outraged. Neither she nor her sisters had dared to ask Heimer about the wage when they started work—though they had taken some guesses among themselves, of course.

“It’ll be all right, Heimer knows what the going rate is,” Ruth had said quite sharply the first time Johanna broached the topic. After all, she had been the one to talk to Heimer while Johanna had been in Sonneberg. All the same, she had tried to get Sarah to open up a little about what she was paid, but the girl was either too slow-witted or too secretive to say.

Johanna had had no more luck with the Widow Grün; apparently it wasn’t proper to discuss wages.

As the three of them sat around their supper table and stared at the little pile of coins in the middle, all the euphoria of the last few weeks was quite gone. They had been so proud to be making their way in the world after fate had dealt them such a cruel blow.

“Forty-five marks—that’s not even enough to buy groceries for the month. Why, I used to spend forty marks a month just on the shopping in Sonneberg,” Johanna said. “And then there’s Mrs. Huber’s store here in the village; I’ve been buying on credit from her for the past two weeks, and we have to pay our debts.”

Ruth looked as though she would burst into tears. “And now? What are we going to do next? We’ll need new clothes as well, from time to time. A new hairband. A cake of soap. And . . .” She broke off.

“And I had so wanted to buy more drawing paper and a few pencils! I’ve been looking forward to that all month,” Marie said.

“You can forget all about that sort of indulgence,” Johanna said brusquely.