Mrs. Martin and Mr. Blohm - Episode Eleven: Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

When somebody tells you how lucky you got, you’ll be able to think to yourself: I didn’t get lucky – I was just willing to fail more times than someone else was willing to try!

Regina had now been living only one week in the magical studio directly on the Alster. She felt so comfortable that she could hardly believe her luck. Yes, she had been willing to fail more times than others were willing even to try. She had looked at 43 condos for months—driving back and forth, making endless calls, and suffering many disappointments—because her imagination of the dream condo was not coming true. But as the saying goes: where there’s a will, there’s a way.

And in Regina’s case, she found her dream—an affordable place on the Alster. Even though it was just a studio, not a full condo, it was perfect. Every morning, she woke up to the beauty of the Alster view. Even on gray and cold February days, she didn’t care. She was simply thankful and happy. The weight of her breakup with Paul gave her a new glow, especially combined with the joy of living at such an amazing address.

Shadows over La Perla

This was the beginning of the brand’s downfall, and Regina didn’t like the new philosophy at La Perla. La Perla had always stood for quality. It seemed the company was struggling with the high production costs in Italy, and of course, the margins were bigger when production was moved to China—even back in 2005. But what good is a bigger margin when sales are falling and customers are no longer satisfied as they once were? She felt helpless to change anything. Customers weren’t stupid; after a while, they sensed the decline in quality. The soul of the brand wasn’t only its exquisite design—it was also the extraordinary craftsmanship. Watching sales drop day after day was frustrating for Regina, and it marked the first step in the wrong direction for La Perla, a brand that had been established for over 50 years by 2005. Regina was deeply saddened by what was happening to such an amazing lingerie brand, yet she still held on to the hope that she could make a difference—and that management would act immediately on the detailed feedback she had poured into her long emails.

The Silver Mercedes

One dark, drizzly evening after work, Regina was dreaming of nothing more than a warm bath with her favorite Prosecco. But when she pulled into the driveway, she saw another car already parked there—a silver Mercedes. She thought it might be Gerhard’s new date. Politely, she parked on the sidewalk so as not to disturb him. Well, she thought, only one week in and already the parking lot is gone. But I’ll forgive Gerhard and hope this won’t happen too often. I don’t want any trouble with him.

A few days later, on another gray morning, Regina stepped out to her car—and in the front garden of the house, she ran into Gerhard. They hadn’t seen each other since the key handover two weeks earlier.

Old Wounds, New Boundaries

Gerhard:
“Good morning, Regina. I haven’t seen you for a while. Do you have a new lover?”

Regina (puzzled):
“Good morning, Gerhard. Are you okay? Why do you think that?”

Gerhard:
“It’s about the silver Mercedes parked in our lot the other day. I know you drive a black Mercedes. That silver one must belong to your new lover, right?”

Regina (surprised):
“Gerhard, what are you thinking? I just broke up with Paul. I don’t have a new lover. I thought it was your date’s car.”

Gerhard (astonished):
“Darling, I would know if I had a new lover! I wish I did.” He rolled his eyes. “Nothing is going on right now. The last date I had wasn’t what I hoped for—you were right, it isn’t easy to find the right match. Maybe I should reconsider my gay status—maybe I should try a date with you!” He laughed in his typical way, which immediately made Regina laugh too, because the moment he said it, everyone knew it was a joke.

Regina:
“Then we have something in common—we’re both looking for the right match. But what I really know is: you’re gay, and that’s fine just as it is. Now I’m wondering—whose car was it then? Maybe someone else in the house?”

Gerhard:
“Don’t fool me! You can tell me if you have a new lover. I won’t say a word to Paul, by the way. He called me—he’s suffering a lot from the breakup. Is there really no chance for you two?”

Regina was shocked to hear that Paul had called Gerhard.

Regina:
“No, Gerhard. There is no way back. This was final.”

She said it with such power and conviction that Gerhard looked a little unsettled.

Just then, Gerhard’s taxi arrived. As he got in, he waved his hand and said:
“Let’s see if we find out who the mystery car belongs to. Keep me posted.”

Regina smiled. It was perfect timing to meet Gerhard yet—she had been meaning to ask him something important. She jumped toward the taxi door before it closed.

Regina:
“Gerhard, I’m glad we met today. I want to ask if I could bring my furniture from Munich—still at Paul’s condo—That way I can really move in here. I want to close all doors with Paul. I can move the things that are in the studio into your garage. Would that be possible?”

Gerhard (thoughtful):
“Darling, whatever you want. Please just organize it yourself—I don’t need extra work. If having your furniture around makes you feel comfortable, then go ahead. I understand.”

Regina:
“Thank you, Gerhard. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

Before closing the taxi door, Gerhard called out:
“And don’t let anyone else use your parking spot—it’s worth gold here! Parking is tough to get.”

He drove off down Sierichstrasse toward the city. Regina thought to herself: What an unbelievably lovely person Gerhard is. And she hoped that the limited three-month lease would be extended.

Closing Doors with Paul

Then another thought came: she needed to call the movers, and she had to let Paul know when she would pick up her things. She didn’t feel like calling him, but she also didn’t want to send a text.

The movers confirmed the pickup for March 25th—the last Friday of the month. Regina finally called Paul.

This time, not in the middle of the night.

Paul answered. Regina felt nervous. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. She was afraid that the more contact she had with Paul, the softer she might become—and that she could fall back into being with him again.

Regina:
“Hello Paul, it’s Regina. I just wanted to let you know I scheduled the movers for March 25th. I wanted to check if that’s okay with you.”

Paul:
“How are you, Regina?”

Regina:
“I’m feeling good.”

She didn’t ask how he was. She didn’t want to know.

But typical Paul, he said:
“I’m not feeling well. I don’t like how our relationship ended. I got your message and tried so many times to reach you and talk it over. Why do you suddenly not want to be with me anymore after four years? I love you—but you never picked up.”

Regina listened. His deep, erotic voice—she had always loved it. And this was exactly what she had been afraid of. She felt strangely attached again—like taking up smoking after months of quitting: the first cigarette tastes awful, but the second already isn’t so bad. That was how Paul’s voice worked on her. She forced herself not to sink into sorrow, not to romanticize the past and the good times with him.

Regina:
“I want to keep this short. Please let me know if March 25th works for you. The best would be if you weren’t there. I’ll leave the key in the mailbox. I chose Friday on purpose—I know you usually work late to meet deadlines. I hope you can follow my plan. I don’t want to make this harder for either of us.”

After a pause, Paul said quietly:

“Whatever you prefer.” And then he hung up.

In that moment, Regina already felt a scratch in her throat, and a few hours later her nose was running. She caught a cold—which in Hamburg’s damp weather could happen easily. But deep down, she felt it was Paul who had made her sick. His voice always weakened her. She sensed that the big wave was still to come—that he wouldn’t respect her wish not to be present when she moved her belongings out.

Exactly as her friend Elena had warned during their stay in Kitzbühel in Austria: Paul always managed to get Regina back when he stood in front of her. He knew exactly which buttons to press, and she melted. But this time it was about her future.

Regina gave herself courage: I can do this. I already moved from Munich to Hamburg. I won’t fall this time. I won’t go back to Paul.

A few hours later, Gerhard called. He immediately noticed her voice.
“Darling, are you sick? The reason I’m calling: a friend of mine is having a party tonight—do you want to join me?”

Regina really didn’t feel well, but part of her longed to meet new people, make contacts, and maybe even new friends. She still didn’t know anyone in Hamburg—only La Perla customers and Gerhard. Apart from them, there was the little squirrel that visited her every morning. She had named him Felix. Within a few days, Felix began feeding on the hazelnuts she left out for him. He was so cute and not afraid at all. Somehow, Regina didn’t feel quite as lonely with Felix around. Every morning when he appeared, he put a smile on her face. She had a friend—even if it was only a squirrel.

After a pause—and true to her responsible nature—she answered Gerhard honestly:
“You can hear I’m sick. I don’t want to go and spread my germs to others. Even though I would love to join, hopefully there will be another opportunity. Thank you, Gerhard, for thinking of me.”

Gerhard understood.
“Of course. But you should see a doctor. The good news is—we have one in our house. He can prescribe you something so you’ll feel better very soon. His name is Dr. Stahnke. He lives just above me, on the second floor. He’s always at home in the evenings. Just ring his bell—you’ll see his name tag there when you get back home.”

This house really has everything, Regina thought. Even a doctor—just a few stairs up!

She followed Gerhard’s advice, drove home, and was able to park her car in the lot—no silver Mercedes this time. She rang the white doorbell. The door opened, and she walked upstairs. Standing in front of her was a very small, older man with white hair and a goatee, still wearing his white doctor’s coat.

Dr. Stahnke and the Mystery Neighbor

Regina:
“Good evening. My name is Regina Martin. I just moved in—Mr. Meir is my sub-landlord. He referred me to you for a prescription for my cold.”

Dr. Stahnke:
“I see. Please come in. I just returned from my practice. I was wondering , Mr. Meir? Meir usually rents to male tenants. But I don’t want to know more.”

(smiling kindly)
Dr. Stahnke:
“Anyway, Mrs. Martin, it’s nice to meet you, even if not under the best circumstances. Welcome to Rondeel 31.”

Regina:
“Thank you, Doctor. These are my symptoms—I’ve caught a cold.”

Dr. Stahnke:
“That’s very clear. I’ll prescribe you a drink that will help you sleep well. You’ll be back on your feet soon.”

While Dr. Stahnke was writing the prescription, Regina’s curiosity got the better of her. Maybe he knows who owns that silver Mercedes, she thought. Perhaps a patient of his?

Regina:
“Dr. Stahnke, do you know who drives the silver Mercedes that was parked in Mr. Meir’s lot?”

Dr. Stahnke looked at her and replied right away:
“Yes, of course. That’s my tenant, Mr. Blohm, who also lives in this house. But why, Mrs. Martin, would you like to know that?”

That was the moment Regina heard the name Mr. Blohm, her neighbor—for the very first time.

Regina:
“Nothing special… only because he was parked in Mr. Meir’s space a few days ago.”

Dr. Stahnke:
“Aha, I see. Mr. Blohm knows that isn’t his parking spot. Very strange. I don’t know why he needed it. But if you’d like to ask him in person, he lives on the third floor.”

Regina:
“It doesn’t matter—it was only one time. But good to know who it was. Thank you.”

Dr. Stahnke handed her the prescription and added:
“I hope you’ll feel better soon. And I advise you to put your name on the doorbell and mailbox. I haven’t seen it yet and had no idea we had a new neighbor. You should know—this is a very intimate house, only six parties.”

Regina:
“Thank you, Dr. Stahnke. That’s a good idea. I’ll do it.”

When she walked down the stairs—there was no elevator—she passed the mailboxes and realized she needed a screwdriver and a printer to make a proper nameplate. Feeling weak with her cold, she decided on the easy way: she taped her La Perla business card to the bell and slipped another into the mailbox before heading to the pharmacy to get her prescription.

The First Glimpse of Mrs. Martin

Later that same day, Mr. Blohm returned home. On the doorbell panel outside, he noticed a business card fluttering in the wind. He couldn’t believe his eyes:

Mrs. Regina Martin
Showroom Representative
La Perla – Rothenbaumchaussee 40

He entered the white front door, passed the mailbox area where he saw the same business card again, and then climbed up to his condo on the third floor.

Interesting, he thought. A new neighbor… and she works for La Perla. Good to know.

Playful as ever—and fresh out of his last romance, which had ended after only a few weeks—Mr. Blohm was already on the hunt for something new. And this time, the thought of a neighbor connected to La Perla stirred his imagination.

✨ Do you want to dream ahead to the moment when Mrs. Martin and Mr. Blohm finally meet? Stay with us—this is still only the beginning. And yes, you might need a few more cases of SYLTBAR to enjoy the full journey.