When Werner was back in Prague, where he lived, it was almost impossible to communicate. International calls were recorded, so we had to speak in code.
Werner was forty-six to my twenty-one. At first we were very secretive about our relationship -- everything seemed so difficult and forbidden.
Two men with suitcases asked for Mrs. Schindler in heavily accented English. They had come to photograph some pieces in my parents’ art collection.
I moved from my pensione into a small, dank room rented out by an Italian family. Classes were done, it was time to study for exams.
Before long Nancy and I had become bad girls in Italy. Soon I had developed a full-on crush and could think of nothing and no one but Jonathan.
It wasn’t till the late '70s when I realized I’d had a classic near death experience. But an experience like that doesn’t make one’s path any easier.
The summer I was fifteen, I fell in love for the first time and this led to a very dark phase of life for me, full of bad habits.