Read Little Man, What Now? for Free Online

again.
    From a distance a marriage looks so extraordinarily easy: two people marry and have children. They live together, are as nice as possible to each other, and try to get on in life. Friendship, love, kindliness, food, drink, sleep, going to work, housekeeping, an outing on a Sunday, occasionally a visit to the cinema in the evening! And that’s it.
    But close up, the whole business dissolves into a thousand individual problems. The marriage itself recedes into the background; it is taken for granted and is simply the precondition for the rest. But what about the casserole? And should he tell Mrs Scharrenhofer this very evening to take the clock out of the room? That’s the reality.
    Both of them sensed it dimly. But those weren’t yet urgent problems; all thought of casseroles was forgotten in the realization that they were now alone in the compartment. Grumpy-face had got out somewhere and they had not even noticed. Casserole and clock were thrown to the winds as they fell into each other’sarms.
    The train rattled along; and they kissed and kissed, pausing only to draw breath. Then the train began to slow down: Ducherow was approaching.
    ‘Oh no, not already!’ they cried together.
    PINNEBERG TURNS MYSTERIOUS AND LAMMCHEN HAS SOME RIDDLES TO SOLVE
    ‘I’ve ordered a car,’ said Pinneberg hastily. ‘The walk to our place would be too much for you.’
    ‘Why should it be? Don’t we want to save money? Only last Sunday we walked around Platz for two hours!’
    ‘But there’s your things …’
    ‘We could have got a porter to bring them along. Or someone from your firm. You’ve got workmen …’
    ‘Oh no, I don’t like that, it looks as if …’
    ‘All right,’ said Lammchen, submissively, ‘As you like …’
    ‘And one more thing,’ he said hastily, as the train was already braking. ‘Let’s not act as if we’re married. Let’s pretend we’ve only just met.’
    ‘But why?’ asked Lammchen in astonishment. ‘When we are married.’
    ‘You see,’ he explained with some embarrassment. ‘It’s the people here. We didn’t send out any cards, we didn’t put a notice in the paper, so if they saw we were married they might be offended, mightn’t they?’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ said Lammchen, utterly mystified. You’ll have to explain again. Why should people be offended if we’re married?’
    ‘Yes, I’ll explain it all to you. But not now. Now we have to … Are you taking your bag? Now, please, look as though you don’tknow me very well.’
    Lammchen said nothing more, but kept casting dubious sidelong glances at him. He had suddenly become the perfect gentleman, helping his lady out of the carriage, then saying, with an embarrassed smile: ‘This is the Central Station of Ducherow. We also have the narrow-gauge line to Maxfelde. This way, please.’ And he went ahead, down the steps from the platform, really a little too fast for such a concerned husband, who had gone to the lengths of ordering a car in case the walk was too much for his wife. He kept two or three steps in front of her all the time, and went out through a side exit. There stood a car with its hood up.
    The driver said: ‘Good afternoon, Mr Pinneberg. Good afternoon, miss.’
    Pinneberg murmured hastily, ‘One moment please. Perhaps you could get in while I go and look after the luggage …’ And he was off.
    Lammchen stood and looked at the station square, with its small two-storey houses. Directly opposite was the Station Hotel.
    ‘Is Kleinholz’s round here?’ she asked the driver.
    ‘Where Mr Pinneberg works? No, miss, we’ll be going by there shortly. It’s right on the Market Place, beside the Town Hall.’
    ‘I say,’ said Lammchen. ‘Couldn’t we take the hood down? It’s such a lovely day.’
    ‘Sorry, miss,’ said the driver. ‘Mr Pinneberg expressly asked for the hood up. I don’t normally have it up myself in this weather.’
    ‘Ah well,’ said Lammchen. ‘If that was