The Balcony E-Book

Reinhard Bicher

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 284

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Daniel and Sylvia – a love that is never easy. From their first kiss on New Year's Eve to endless discussions on the balcony of Daniel's parents' house. They lose each other, search for each other, find each other again. In between: nights full of alcohol and records, heated arguments, friendships that come and go. The thing that connects them deeply: their love of music. Years later, Daniel reconstructs their story from his old diaries – a look back at a time full of excess, longing, and the question of whether you can ever really leave true love behind.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Growth

Housewarming

Fog

Very confusing ...

Interesting findings

Commitment to inconsistency

Summertime

The summer balls

Winter fairy tale

Into the New Year

Sylvia's 22nd birthday

Unexpected

Bella Italia

Old paths, new ways

September morning

A good idea?

A very unconventional attempt

Coda

Growth

Late winter 1977; Saturday afternoon:

"Daniel, tell me, are your parents in Vienna?"

"No, Robert, they're somewhere in the mountains, looking at plots for the house they're planning to build. They're supposedly staying in a guesthouse there."

"Ah, that's very good!"

What on earth is this friend up to? I look out of the window a little suspiciously. Everything is gray in gray; a typical, rather dreadful late winter day.

"I agree, but are you telling me to throw another spontaneous party tonight?"

I pick up the phone a little more firmly.

"You got that right. I met four completely new people through a friend from university. One of them is a girl I'm really interested in!"

"Well, fine by me! But please bring something to drink. I can't raid my parents' bar and my grandmother's wine reserves again. I'd really get into trouble this time. When do you want to come?"

"Around eight; is that possible?"

"OK, then I'll go to our café first and see if our friends, the usual staff, are there. I could then take them to my place."

"Right; see you later! By the way, I'm picking up the new people from a wine tavern. We'll bring the booze from there."

"Very good! See you soon!"

I put the phone down and look around the living room. Everything is fine!

I quickly fetch additional seating from the other rooms, open the record cupboard, sort around a bit to have any interesting records to hand. Then I march down to the cellar and open the number lock of my grandmother's small but fine wine cellar. The old lady won't notice if a few bottles are missing again. I take two dopplers of white wine, carefully close the cellar and drive back up to our apartment.

That will have to be enough from my side!

It's around six o'clock. I slip into my coat and shoes, march the few hundred meters to our regular café, spot three former school friends and their well-known female companions and ask if they want to come along to the party. They are all delighted! We drink a few more "Fluchtachterln" together. Then we make our way back to my place.

By the way, they're all really nice people, including the girls, but a bit of fresh blood would definitely do us good.

By half past seven, we are all in a great mood at my place.

A short time later, the doorbell!

It's Robert.

I stop at the front door to welcome the new people.

I can hear cheerful laughter from afar.

The rather overloaded elevator stops noisily.

A sympathetic girl's voice: "Tell me, Robert, doesn't your friend really mind that you invited us to his place?"

"No, certainly not. I discussed it with him. This way! Don't be shy!"

Five people turn the corner:

First Robert with his guitar and a box of wine. In a great mood, he winks at me. Behind him, in tow, is a very nice-looking brunette girl. Robert introduces her to me: This is Claudia!

Then a funny guy, Bob, according to Robert a very special guy, an exchange student from the USA. In fact, he already speaks Viennese almost as well as his mother tongue!

Then Sigi, a likeable business student.

Finally, a dark blonde girl of medium height. Robert announces again: "That's Sylvia! She's a friend and fellow student of Sigi's."

I give everyone a friendly wave.

"Come on in! I'm looking forward to it! Make yourselves at home!"

Everyone enters the anteroom and takes off their coats. We join the others in the living room. A big hello, a close-knit atmosphere! After all, there are twelve of us.

Robert takes me aside and hands me the box of wine bottles; Grinzinger wine!

"It's really good; we've already been able to see for ourselves on the spot." Flustered, he punches me in the ribs.

I throw out a noisy "Thank you very much everyone!" and go into the kitchen to get the appropriate glasses and put several bottles in the ice box to chill.

I quickly return to the others, put glasses and bottles on the table and hand out the ashtrays.

The atmosphere is already extremely relaxed. So there is no need for any special social obligations.

"Please help yourselves! Oh dear, there are still two glasses missing! What a bad host I am!"

I jump up and run into the kitchen again! I immediately realize that I'm not alone. Sylvia has followed me.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, thank you; sweet of you."

"... hmm, say, Daniel, you're Robert's best friend, aren't you?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Just so..."

Very briefly, as inconspicuously as possible, I cast a scrutinizing glance at the dark blonde girl:

Pretty, very pretty; almost to be described as beautiful, dark blue fascinating eyes, fine facial features, quite a perfect figure, a great bottom.

She uses an exquisite perfume; her hair smells of peach. When she speaks, she has a tiny "S" slur. That makes her voice really sexy.

Without a doubt a classy girl - but I don't really like her!

She clears her throat briefly and bites her lower lip.

"... well, I just wanted to know if Robert is currently available. Because I kind of like him."

I look at the girl in surprise. She's quite direct for the fact that we've only known each other for a few minutes.

"Yes, absolutely! But I would hurry if I were you. With him, you never know how long this rare condition will last! But - aren't you with Sigi?"

Sylvia shrugs her shoulders a little and looks down briefly.

"I almost thought that about Robert! And as for Sigi: well, half and half ..."

I nod in understanding and pick up the two missing glasses.

"Aha; doesn't sound very uplifting. But while we're on the subject: Is Claudia actually with Bob?"

Sylvia bursts out laughing:

"Claudia and Bob? The chickens are laughing! No, they're good friends, otherwise nothing works with them. Tell me, are you interested?"

I don't know why, but I have to join in Sylvia's laughter.

"No, for heaven's sake; I've only just met her. But, you know, she does seem lovely."

Still laughing, we march back to the others.

In the meantime, Robert has tuned his guitar.

We sing, loudly, incorrectly. From time to time, I also reach for the keys of my piano for everyone's enjoyment. The atmosphere is simply great. The newcomers fit in wonderfully with us.

All four are in agreement:

"It's really great and fun here! And the live music, you don't get that everywhere either!"

Sylvia turns to me and puts her hand on my upper arm: "Just wait! When I've finally moved into my little apartment that I took over from my grandmother, there'll be lots of parties and I'll be able to return the favor! You all have to come to the housewarming in a few weeks' time!"

We all say in unison: "Of course we're coming!"

Around half past ten, I ask for the volume to be reduced. The neighbors above us are known for being very unpleasant. Robert puts the guitar aside.

"Well, let's just put on a record then. My fingers are already hurting anyway!"

I make my way to the record cabinet. Sylvia and Claudia follow me.

The girls kneel down and rummage through the albums.

"Look at that, Sylvia! So much classical music! And so much Viennese music!"

"Aha... There! Claudia, give yourself that: Beatles, Carpenters, Simon and Garfunkel, Roger Whittaker, but also Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple; and so much Austropop! And also Sinatra, Dean Martin! But unfortunately no Neil Diamond! Strange ..."

I watch the girls with excitement and interest.

"Tell me, you two; have you been friends for a long time?"

Claudia turns to me and gives Sylvia a loving sideways glance.

"Yes, of course! All the way through school until our A-levels. We were in the same class."

My gaze wanders from one to the other. Two such different types! One is beautiful, subtly made up, sexy; the other is completely natural, a little boyish, likeable, simply adorable!

"So it's similar for you and Robert and me?"

The two girls almost at the same time: "Looks like ..."

I have to laugh.

"So, what should I hang up now?"

Sylvia reaches for the Carpenters' "Horizon".

"These please! I don't know them at all. And may I take a look out onto the balcony? The city at night must look amazing from here!"

"Sure! ... Robert!"

I call the friend, ask him to come to me, wink at Sylvia.

"Would you be so kind as to show Sylvia the balcony?"

"Of course! Come on, Sylvia!"

The two disappear, but soon return. The wintry cold outside has obviously driven them away quickly.

It's around two o'clock; all the bottles have long since been drunk.

The first voices are raised: "We should leave with the times ..."

The air in the living room is thick with cigarette smoke. You can't really see much at the moment.

And of course nobody is sober any more.

So; departure.

Claudia and Sylvia come up to me and thank me for the lovely evening.

"So I'll see you next weekend at the Heurigen!"

I nod enthusiastically.

"With pleasure! Ah yes, you're from the most famous wine region in Vienna. I'm sure you know your way around there. I'm sure it will be great!"

"Sure, you'll see! Robert will let you know anyway!"

"Fine, see you soon!"

General farewell ...

Silence, calm returns. I go out onto the balcony, look out over the city for a moment, but soon return to the completely smoke-filled room.

Strange ...

A fine, yet beguiling fragrance wafts through the room and reaches my nose.

It is stronger than the cigarette smoke, somehow novel, unfamiliar.

Sylvia is no longer there; and yet she seems to be standing in the room.

Nonsense, alcohol-induced nonsense; forget it ...

Damn it; why can't I get her out of my head?

***

Housewarming

Well, such a Krax'n!

It's terrible how the old set of the G2 struggles through Döblinger Hauptstraße.

Nevertheless, I take an interested look at the rather old, but also quite attractive buildings in this street, which is completely unknown to me.

This streetcar line is actually also quite foreign to me.

I carefully follow the directions that Robert gave me during a brief, unusually stressful meeting. I know absolutely nothing about this district. Everything here is new territory for me.

I look at the small piece of paper that I've been clutching frantically in my hand since I got on the „Zweierlinie“.

This station should be the right one! Indeed!

And then to the left, it says here.

All right ...

And now to number 9.

Aha; looks pretty; a nice garden surrounds the three-store apartment buildings.

The closer I get to my destination, the happier I am to see Sylvia, Claudia and the boys again.

Quickly, in joyful anticipation, I march to the third staircase, go up to the second floor and ring the bell at number 12.

I can already hear a lot of noise through the door. So; I can't really be wrong!

I carefully take my rucksack off my shoulders and take out the pretty bunch of Ursum bara violets I quickly bought yesterday as a housewarming gift.

After all, the mistress of the house is a pretty young girl.

Unfortunately, I don't know her at all, so of course I don't know which flowers she appreciates. However, these violets are supposedly in great demand at the moment. So, what could possibly go wrong ...

The apartment door opens. A cloud of noise and cigarette smoke billows towards me.

I was actually expecting Sylvia to greet me, but instead Robert is standing in the doorway. He grins at me: "Hello, my dear! Come in, bring happiness!"

I am surprised and look a little embarrassed at the little flower.

"Oops, I didn't expect that - but hi, you unfaithful soul! I haven't heard anything profound from you for weeks!"

"I know, sorry ... let's just talk later. I have to help Sylvia now. She's already completely freaking out. There are just too many people here. She can't cope on her own! I'll just take her the flower bush. I'm sure she'll be happy and maybe it'll cheer her up."

"O.k. It's fine!"

I hand him the pot and scratch behind my left ear. Have I completely missed something?

Well, I haven't really been particularly sociable recently. I had to practise, practise, practise for my very last annual concert with my piano professor.

But I really enjoyed it! Brigitte, whom I adore a little and who is very attractive, plays the orchestral part on the piano four-hands together with the professor. I get to play the piano part on the grand piano: "Rhapsody in Blue" by Gershwin, a devilishly difficult work!

Incidentally, this musical interplay already worked excellently last year with Tchaikovsky's piano concerto. The auditorium thanked us back then with frenetic applause!

Brigitte, yes, she's really lovely. We really like each other and she makes excellent music. It's a shame that she's still a bit attached to an old school friend and is also quite pious and chaste.

So, unfortunately there really isn't much that can be done ...

Nevertheless, the short visits to the coffee house together after the training sessions are always an absolute highlight of the day.

It's funny, the other day the professor, who is a little old but incredibly capable and strict, but nevertheless very popular, said with a sly smile that we should wait until the lesson was over before we put our necks around our necks. Did the distinguished lady notice something that we had missed, something that we perhaps didn't want to acknowledge? Did she even want to try her hand at matchmaking?

Be that as it may ...

Anyway, I enter the tiny hallway, throw my coat and rucksack onto a huge pile of different outerwear, walk into the fairly spacious living room and look around. It's murder what's going on.

With some difficulty, I recognize some of our friends from the café, but also Claudia and Bob. The two of them are lounging around on the floor in a corner of the room, chatting and fooling around. Bob sees me, grins at me, stands up and gives me a friendly pat on the shoulder: "Servas ..."

I sit down with them.

The noise is deafening. You can barely understand your own words.

Now Claudia notices me too and laughs at me.

"Hey, good to see you!"

"Hi! Tell me, where is the landlady?"

"I think she's working in the kitchen. Look, back there, in that little alley."

I look around and actually notice Sylvia, who is completely beside herself, smearing some obscure sandwiches with equally obscure spreads.

Robert stands with her, strokes her hair and tries to calm her down.

"One question, Claudia: What's going on with Robert and Sylvia? What's going on there?"

"Yes, don't you know that? Robert moved in here with Sylvia ..."

I am speechless.

I really hadn't expected that.

That was quick ...

Somehow I don't really know what to make of it.

In any case, I take note of this fact without comment and get up briefly to grab something to drink.

I cast a furtive glance at the contents of Claudia's beverage cup.

Indefinable ...

"Tell me, Claudia, what kind of swill is this?"

The brunette girl bursts out laughing and grins at me: "Hard to say! It seems to be some kind of punch, but it tastes pretty good. Look, there's a huge pot of the stuff on the table! I don't know if there are any cups left. In the meantime, you can have mine. I'm already a bit tipsy anyway."

I grin back: "Thank you; I'll take you up on your kind offer if necessary."

I fight my way to the monster pot and carefully look inside. Surprisingly, there is still enough of the strange liquid to make me a little suspicious.

And indeed, there are no more cups.

Claudia taps me on the shoulder, holds her drinking vessel and a bread roll in front of me: "I knew it; you've got mine. And I've just organized some freshly baked bread for you from the kitchen."

"Oh, thank you! Tell me, is this stuff really drinkable?"

"Sure! I haven't had any problems so far!"

"All right. Risk!"

In fact, the brew is not bad at all!

So the rest of the evening turns out to be highly amusing.

The only thing that annoys me a little is the fact that Sylvia hasn't registered or greeted me yet, let alone thanked me for the bunch of flowers.

I take a shy look into the kitchen: the lady of the house is actually standing in the far corner, making out with Robert!

It's getting quite late and the punch is having a lasting effect.

Although quite a few people have already left, the noise level has by no means diminished.

Quite illuminated, Claudia thinks it might be a good idea to leave as soon as possible, as the last streetcar towards the city center will be leaving in the foreseeable future.

I agree with her, especially as the strange swill has really got into my head.

Robert and Sylvia are lounging around in the corner of the room, tightly wrapped and unresponsive.

We take note, laboriously search for our coats, actually find them and want to march off.

Bob has been resting in Morpheus' arms for quite some time, which also applies to several other festival visitors.

I look questioningly at Claudia.

"Never mind, Daniel! Let's let him sleep! He's not a toddler. When he's sober again, he'll find his way home."

I grin to myself.

"Come on, Claudia, I'll walk with you for a while!"

"Fine, nice of you!"

Fooling around and perhaps a little wobbly, we stroll along some streets that are completely foreign to me, but soon reach a station on line 38.

Claudia waits with me for the last streetcar.

It soon appears. As the door opens, a deafening roar emanates from the train.

I look at Claudia questioningly.

"You needn't be surprised. This last train is always full of drunken Heurigen visitors from Grinzing! You'll get used to it over time."

"Let's see ... well then, goodbye, Claudia! See you soon! But - you know, I'm a little worried. I know Robert too well. I hope he doesn't hurt Sylvia. She seems to be head over heels in love with him."

Claudia looks at me. Her gaze becomes thoughtful.

"Hm, yes, hopefully ... well then, goodbye, see you soon!"

Three days later I receive a letter in the post:

"Dear Daniel!

I'm terribly sorry that I didn't greet you at the party or thank you for the violets, which I really appreciate.

Hopefully I can make up to you with this letter and you can forgive me.

All the best and hope to see you soon!

Your deeply contrite Sylvia"

***

Two years later, at the beginning of June, Whitsun 1979

Heat, unusual heat lies over the city. On Whit Sunday, sometime in the afternoon, I pick Sylvia up from her apartment.

At the moment I haven't the faintest idea what we did that day, where we slept and whether we slept at all, which is actually unusual. Normally, my old diaries give me far more information about important incidents and formative events.

Unfortunately not this time, everything is shrouded in fog, somehow obscured, the notes are cryptic, only a few sentences; incomprehensible, as we were together for two days and two nights. I only refer to a fundamental change on my part, my changed attitude, the sense of new self-evident things, a new self-image; very general, not very revealing, hardly anything really clarifying. What exactly do I mean by that?

Before that in May 1979

Things are so wonderfully easy with Sandra. I'm adored, spoiled; in contrast to my current, once again rather unclear situation with Sylvia, it's completely uncomplicated. A lovely girl, I really like her, simply wonderful for May, a delightful love affair.

In her I have found a very sweet, tender, but still very young girl. I am happy, really happy. I would never have expected that in my current situation. Of course there are difficulties with her parents with such a young girl. But without troubles, the whole thing would be uninteresting. She's just 16 years old, black hair, dark brown eyes - and we're simply in love, and it's May! Is there anything more beautiful? Apart from Sylvia, she's the only girl I'm really longing for at the moment. She even thought of the portrait photo of herself that I asked her for! Apparently I've finally been really lucky for once!

But that is obviously not the decisive issue.

Because then the next entry:

Sylvia and I have been on the verge of a new intimate relationship for some time now, once again ... aha ... interesting ... but no further clarification.

Why now, at the same time as the flirtation with Sandra?

What has really changed so dramatically?

Things seem to be getting a little clearer:

I just want to go out with Sandra from time to time, kiss her, cuddle her, maybe make out a bit in a non-committal and harmless way; it's all OK and legitimate; it's also appropriate for her age. I really have no plans to do anything really naughty or inappropriate. I just like things to be relaxed and nice.

Just nothing complicated!

Damn, my car's broken down again. I would have loved to go on a nice trip with Sandra. I'll ask Sylvia. It's risky, but maybe she'll lend me her father's car. I'll find some excuse. I'll just blame it on a vital transport trip to the new house.

Yes, of course! She brings me small car to Josefstadt, gives me the keys and papers and takes the streetcar home.

Of course I have a pretty guilty conscience, but the risk is suddenly fun.

Look, look; macho behavior! Something completely new ...

And then a few days later, so casually, almost emotionlessly, passingly, completely without any clarifying background:

As expected, the affair with Sandra didn't last long, just a flirt in the spring. Of course, the clever girl sensed that she wasn't playing first fiddle!

I still see my present and future somewhere else entirely!

Next entry, just as passé, not even her first name seems to be of particular importance:

From one day to the next at a party around May 1st, a lovely Styrian nurse fell head over heels in love with me; a huge pick-up line, a bit clumsy, very homey, very rural, rather unpleasant for me, far too dangerous; far too serious, far too fast, little pricking, butterflies in deep sleep. I just don't like anything so terribly intrusive!

Ergo:

Let's get out of here; back to Sylvia, to safety, to the well-known, familiar harbor.

A very clear note: "She means everything to me and I don't want to lose her."

Maybe just a pretext? For what? Fear of commitment? Lack of readiness for something new? Insecurity?

***

Whit Monday 1979

We went to the swimming pool; for the first time this year; despite the sweltering heat at the moment, the water is still pretty cold, no wonder, the spring was awful.

Sylvia keeps urging me: "Daniel, come on, let's go swimming."

"Brr. The water is so cold!"

"Go on, don't be so dull!"

She smiles at me and holds out her right hand.

Of course I give in and take the offered hand; together we walk to the water.

We had a really nice time that day, just nice ...

Then in the evening at my place, in my parents' abandoned apartment. I go to the record player, pick up Frank Sinatra's violet double album and put on the first vinyl. Sylvia is standing next to me, watching me. It's still terribly hot and sweaty. We're still wearing our bathing suits.

I look at her briefly, once again admiring her beautiful figure. And she laughs so happily, so carefree.

I'm delighted that she hasn't touched anything alcoholic all day. Because when she's sober, the sun rises for me, she's the sweetest, the most amazing, the most charming girl in the whole world, just to fall in love with again and again!

For how many times already? I don't know ...

"Summerwind"... The girl holds out her hands to me. Lovingly, gently, I take her in my arms. We dance, dance through the living room, through my parents' bedroom, dance past my piano, past the saxophone, past my musical instruments out onto the balcony. Everything is so familiar! It's long since dusk. The whole city stretches out before us; already illuminated, dreamlike; on the far left outside the town hall, the Steffl; on the far right, only dimly the heights of the southern Vienna Woods, the Föhrenberge.

Silence; I go back into the living room, turn the record over. Sylvia stays outside, leaning against the railing, gazing silently over the city. I know how much she loves this view...

And not only tshe ... these few square meters high above the city have seen all sorts of strange, idiosyncratic, often extremely funny and quite bizarre things.

I am highly amused when I think of Robert's acrobatic gymnastic exercises performed in a highly inebriated state, but also of the legendary melon seed spitting, down onto the parking lot, onto the cars parked there. The winner was the person with the most "pings", i.e. hits on the various car bodies. The prize agreed in advance was a bottle of beer. Of course, this was not given; it and several others were drunk long before the end of the challenge.

On a clear day, you can even clearly see the Schneeberg from here. Everyone likes - always liked - this balcony, this apartment; parties, nuclear fumes, all kinds of youthful silliness, the first Playboy magazines and other far less sophisticated relevant material.

Apart from his mother's depression and his father's long absence due to work, the attachment is somehow positive; all the music, the first tender intimate experiences, the most intimate conversations with Sylvia.

Maternal depression: It's all relatively easy to write now. In fact, it's terrible, spoils many years of my late youth, drags me and my self-confidence down into the abyss with the knowledge that I can't help enough. And even in the years before that, she didn't like much about me. It almost seems to me that she takes out her feeling of inferiority towards my successful father, who has everything going for him, on me. He's not there anyway, doesn't exist, just leaves me alone with my depressed mother. And all this for financial reasons - all the money in the world can't be worth it.

I don't speak a word to him for a whole year, reducing communication to zero at a time when I really needed him. I unconsciously dragged the whole problem around with me for many years.

Out of sheer frustration, I start to eat senselessly.

***

By the turn of the millennium at the latest, deep darkness had finally taken over the Josefstadt apartment.

Both parents breathe their last here, the suicide of my father's nurse, years earlier the death of my beloved grandmother three floors below.

Even now, quite some time later, I still enter these former parental rooms very reluctantly, rather reluctantly, very hesitantly. Yet our son, the daughter-in -law and the little one, live here. She, Leni, my sweet grandchild, even lives in my former childhood room. Her little table stands in the place of my old bed, the place of the first, sweetest, most tender, simply unforgettable night with Sylvia, probably, no, certainly the most beautiful, at the beginning of January 1978.

"Good times never seem so good ..."

As is so often the case, you only realize this much later, usually too late.

It is simply a pity about the many rashly destroyed pages of my diary, about many a willfully destroyed, even desecrated photo, slide …

For this reason, it is difficult to find any truly illuminating thoughts on this exciting time, because these weeks in particular are not documented in the diary in any form, not a single line is documented in any meaningful way. However, apart from the diary, there are a number of texts and quite romantic essays.

Beginning of January 1978

A large, cheerful group is sitting at the wine tavern in Neustift. Slowly, the first people start to leave, to go home. It's late; it's cold and uncomfortable outside. We are often offered a lift in a car. We decline with thanks. We even deliberately wait until the last bus has left. Only then do we set off on the long journey ahead of us.

We hardly have any money left; we don't need it either. We march along the quiet Krottenbachstraße in unison, with a little sprint in between every now and then. And once again we are lying in each other's arms, quite out of breath.

Soon it starts to snow heavily. I cast a doubtful glance at her pretty shoes, which are completely unsuitable for this weather. This can't go on for long ...

I notice how Sylvia is slowly getting tired.

Without thinking twice, I take her on my shoulders; there is still a long way to go.

As time goes by, the graceful girl becomes heavier and heavier, terribly heavy.

Right at the corner of Billrothstraße, I finally come to a standstill.

Nevertheless, she looks at me admiringly and kisses me.

Our money is just enough for a small espresso in the corner café.

Then we go home, each of us in the other direction. I walk, without cigarettes, without a penny of money. It doesn't bother me. I'm just incredibly happy.

I'm back home in Josefstadt in no time.

How quickly that can happen!

A few days later, we are invited to Claudia's for dinner. I pick Sylvia up from home. First we make a stop at the nearest open wine tavern and enjoy a glass. The Riesling is delicious, so we buy two bottles. We can't go to our friend's house empty-handed.

And we want to bring something good, something really fine ...

Once again it's snowing sheets. Laughing and fooling around, we march, no, trudge hand in hand along the snow-covered streets. Every now and then we stop to look at the displays. Then again we romp around like children full of exuberance, having a little snowball fight.

It's almost a miracle that the wine bottles survived all this unscathed.

When we ring Claudia's bell, we already look like snowmen.

It's always really cozy at the girlfriend's house.

Only her father scolds us a bit because we bought the expensive Grinzinger wine. He always says that he has a much cheaper source from the south of Vienna.

The smell of Claudia's special casserole is wonderful! So far, however, she hasn't told us what ingredients are needed to make it.

In any case, we dried and thawed quickly.

As almost always, we listen to Beethoven first. Claudia is a similar fan to me; Sylvia less so. So we still need a lot of convincing.

After the "Egmont Overture", it is usually the turn of the "Pastoral", as was the case today.

At the musical transition from the 4th movement, i.e. from the thunderstorm to the 5th movement, the final movement in the lyrical F major, the so-called Shepherd's Song, there is a short phrase, a musical quotation from the Palm Sunday liturgy: "O head full of blood and wounds...", so beautiful, so haunting, so touching that I almost always get wet eyes.

Somehow, I feel a little embarrassed about this to Sylvia today. So I get up, walk a little sheepishly to the window and look out at the snow-covered street, deeply moved.

Quietly, Sylvia has also stood up. She comes to me and gently takes my hand. Together, in silence, we watch the snowfall, stand quietly by the window and listen to the magnificent symphony to the end.

Unforgettable moments of an unforgettable time ...

Mid-January 1978

We are at the concert; Brahms, Vienna Philharmonic, L. Bernstein; at the end the Antoni Choral - the Haydn Variations; I love this fantastic piece of music beyond all measure.

Simply magnificent. Sylvia is also completely enraptured.

We leave the Musikverein and turn towards the Ringstrasse. I take her hand, a little tentatively at first; it's snowing lightly; everything is covered in snow. It's beautiful; I get braver, the grip on my hand tighter. She looks at me, smiles, returns the pressure of my hand. We walk to Josefstadt , visit a well-known, very cozy cellar restaurant, have a bite to eat, enjoy the flowery white wine; we talk about ourselves, talk about how things could go on, are a little indecisive, look at each other a little doubtfully at times. Is this the right thing to do, will it work out?

The musician plays the zither beautifully. Sylvia snuggles up to me, caresses my hand. The scent of her perfume beguiles me.

"Are you still coming to my place? My parents are on winter vacation ..."

She thinks for a moment. Then she nods.

"... but you'd have to take me home by car in the morning."

"Sure ..."

We pay and go back to my place.

I put on the Carpenters' "Horizon". "Only Yesterday"; we dance, kiss each other: our second kiss.

I quickly pop down to the corner café and get a refill of cigarettes.

I'm extremely nervous, incredibly excited; for the first time in my life, a girl is staying with me overnight. And what a girl; my dream girl!

Kisses, intimacy, velvety skin; feelings like in a fairy tale. She asks me to be patient, doesn't want sex yet. Lots of tenderness, caresses, understanding, attention - that's what she wants from me.

It's all okay, it doesn't bother me; not yet. For the moment, I feel like I've reached the pinnacle of all my dreams.

The next morning, I take her home. We enter her apartment and she makes coffee. I don't feel well. Something is bothering me; apparently her too. Is it Robert's aura, which is still hovering here after several months, perhaps creating a completely unnecessary guilty conscience in me, in us, a completely unique, barely describable, highly unpleasant feeling that is limited to this address. Interestingly, at my home in Josefstadt, , nothing of the sort can be felt.

A few days later: We attend a performance at the Burgtheater.