It was almost dinner time when a knock came on the door. Marlene looked at her parents, but neither of them was expecting visitors.
“Go get it,” her father said.
Marlene almost fell backwards when Werner stood in front of the door with a grave expression on his face, looking ridiculous in a trench coat and a French beret.
“What on earth…” she said, but Werner put his finger across his lips urging her to be silent.
“I need to talk to you. Tell your parents you’re visiting a sick friend,” he whispered.
She rolled her eyes, but obeyed. “Mother, Father, I’m needed at the hospital. I’ll be back soon,” she told her parents, and grabbed her coat.
“What’s going on? Why this ridiculous beret?” she snapped at him.
“Because we’re going to a French restaurant, my love. I’m sorry about our argum
