Magic Flutes

19

Tessa had the compartment to herself and as the train steamed out of Spittau, she put her hand into the pocket of her loden cloak to draw out the ancient leather casket once more, and gaze at its contents.

Yes, she had been right in what she had said to Guy. It was not like other jewels, the Lily of Pfaffenstein. The beaten silver was dark, almost dull, so deeply was it marked by time, but the delicate marvellously wrought petals, the proud curve of the stem, exuded an unmistakable air of majesty. If ever there was an ornament carved out of the very soul of the unknown craftsman, it was this symbol of fidelity and love.

One last task, then: to take the Lily to Pfaffenstein and give it to Martha Hodge. Thank heavens she would not have to get out of the train, not have to see the castle en fête for the wedding; not have to meet Nerine, hanging with proud ownership on to Guy’s arm. Martha had promised to be waiting on the platform, and all Tessa would have to do was lean out of the train, hand over the heirloom and continue her journey to Vienna.

‘You’ll know me all right,’ Martha had written in reply to Tessa’s letter, ‘for I’m as broad as I’m long! But to make sure, I’ll wear my navy coat and skirt and my fox fur.’

The train had left the plain and the great, grey lake and was climbing past vineyards pruned for winter, past chequered fields, into the hills. Her own country, now: fir woods mantling green slopes, glittering rivers tumbling through ravines and high on the horizon, a constant pearly cloud that revealed itself breathtakingly as the first of the snow peaks.

An hour later, the train puffed into the station that served Pfaffenstein. Tessa had lowered the window and was leaning out eagerly, the casket in her hand. An old man with a basket of eggs climbed into the third-class carriage at the back; a young man and a black-clad woman with two children got out but the platform itself was curiously empty. Certainly no one as broad as they were long — no one at all now that the passengers had dispersed, which was strange because Anton, the station master, nearly always came out to have a quick chat with the driver.

Uncertainly, she opened the door of her compartment and stepped down. Martha had promised. The dates and times in her letter were perfectly clear. Already, doors were slamming again and the wheezing engine was giving its pre-departure squeaks. Then, running along the platform, came Steffi, the postmaster’s ferret-faced son, the only one of the five boys who had turned out badly.

‘Your Highness!’ He touched his cap. ‘There’s a message from the English gentleman’s foster-mother. She’s ill. She can’t come.’

‘Oh, dear!’

A minute in which to act. To anyone else in the village she could have entrusted the Lily, but not to Steffi who had already been in trouble with the police.

Nothing for it, then… Quickly, she took out her small portmanteau, shut the door of her compartment and stood ruefully watching the train draw out. A few minutes later, she had pushed open the white wicket gate which led from the station enclosure and set off on the path along the lake.

At once, she was in a world of aching familiarity. Here was the hollow alder in which she had found a nest of curled-up, sleeping water voles; here the rock shaped like a bird; here the bush that in summer was ablaze with sulphur-yellow roses…

She crossed the road, wondering again at the absence of people, and began to climb the steep, circuitous Narrenweg. The first shrine, with the wreath of artificial poppies which had lain there since Frau Sussman’s son fell in the war… the second, on which the quiet-faced Virgin’s nose was inexplicably missing… the third, beneath which old Marinka had put, as she put each year, a great bunch of her orange dahlias before they caught the frost –

‘Oh, God!’ Tessa had stopped, put down her bag and grasped the branch of an ilex beside the path, suddenly overwhelmed by a searing sense of heimat — that word which, though embracing it, means so much more than simply ‘home’.

Then she set her chin, picked up her bag and ten minutes later was walking through the gatehouse arch.

There was no one on duty. The courtyard was deserted. Feeling suddenly extremely anxious, Tessa walked up the short flight of steps into the great hall and looked about her, puzzled. Where were the ornaments, the vases, the tapestry hangings? Then a door opened above her and, breaking the silence, she heard a furious voice.

‘Who the devil has raised the flag on the flagpole? Who is the imbecile who is climbing about up there? I’m going to blast him out of existence if it’s the last thing—’ Guy had appeared at the top of the staircase. ‘You!’

He came down swiftly, the brows drawn in a dark bar across his face, and stopped in front of the small figure in the grey cloak. ‘And what brings you here?’ he enquired.

‘I brought the Lily. For Nerine. Martha promised to meet me at the station and bring it up, but she wasn’t there. There was a message to say she wasn’t well. Is it anything serious?’

Guy shrugged. ‘She was all right this morning, perfectly all right. In high fettle, in fact.’ He gave up the puzzle. ‘You came from Spittau?’

‘Yes.’

He nodded, scowling. ‘And the prince is well?’

‘Very well. Guy, please would you take this, I want to get back,’ said Tessa, proffering the box. ‘Just take it and give it to Nerine… with my best wishes for her happiness.’

Guy took the casket, opened it and looked at it for a long moment in silent tribute. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you’re right. It’s an extraordinary piece of work. I regret, however, that I cannot give it to Nerine because she isn’t here.’

‘Isn’t here?’ Tessa stared at him, completely bewildered. ‘But where—’

‘She heard that I was ruined and left. In case you’re feeling anxious on her behalf, let me assure you that she managed to take all her clothes and jewels and a few other unconsidered trifles that were lying about. We have reason to believe that Lord Frith will soon be the happiest of men.’

Tessa’s eyes widened. There was no point in feeling happy because Guy was ruined, which was sad for him. Moreover, he certainly did not love her or he would not keep glaring at her in that way. All the same, happiness continued to streak in small, uncontrollable waves through her body. To conceal it, she looked round the hall.

‘Is that why the furniture has gone?’ she enquired. ‘Because you’re ruined? Did the bailiffs take it away?’

‘Yes.’

Tessa nodded. ‘It looks better like this, I think — not so cluttered.’

She tried to concentrate on the subject of Guy’s ruin and was rewarded by a brilliant idea.

‘Guy, if you’re ruined you must take the Lily! It’s terribly valuable! You wouldn’t think so because it’s just silver, but it’s the legend and all that. The Museum of Antiquities in New York offered my father a fortune for it! Then, with the money you can start again and get something to sell like—’ But for the moment inspiration failed her.

‘Shoelaces?’ suggested Guy, the old teasing note back in his voice. But at once, the anger returned to his face. ‘Oh, God, why didn’t you wait!’ he burst out. ‘Were you so eager for the prince?’

Tessa, looking around for something to sit on, found the pedestal of her great-grandfather’s statue which had been too heavy to move. At the same time it occurred to her that she could at this moment have walked barefoot up Mount Everest, which would have been a record and pleased people.

‘I knew you’d gone to Spittau, but I thought I had time. And then they said the wedding had been bought forward—’ He broke off and turned away.

‘Yes,’ said Tessa. ‘I thought it would be a good idea. Heidi was so very pregnant, you see.’

‘Heidi? Who the devil? Oh, that dancing girl. What’s she got to do with anything?’

‘Actually, Guy, I was wondering if I shouldn’t train as an actress,’ said Tessa reflectively. ‘I never wanted to act before, but honestly I think I may have talent. I did the Stanislavski method before I came downstairs — you know, getting yourself into the part — and then I swept into the banqueting hall when they were all at dinner and called Maxi a vile seducer and pointed my trembling finger at him and everything. I think my bosom heaved too; I’m almost sure it did. And if I was a successful actress I could help you—’

Guy had walked over to her and pulled her up by the wrists. She smiled at him and he said, ‘Don’t smile like that, damn you! Tell me what happened.’

‘Well. I found out that Heidi and the prince had been—’ she flushed. ‘You know… It was incredibly stupid of me not to guess, but I didn’t because nobody brought me up to know anything useful.’

‘Go on.’

‘And, of course, it was obvious that they were just meant for each other, but Maxi isn’t… you know, very resolute. So I made this scene — I wanted to do it in a night-dress like in La Sonnambula but I thought I might trip — and denounced him and said he had to make an honest woman of my friend. And then the Swan Princess screamed and said she was going to have a heart attack and everybody ran about except Monteforelli who said God was almost certainly too busy watching sparrows fall to arrange anything so providential — only sotto voce, of course, and—’

Guy put a finger over her lips, which was a mistake because Tessa turned white and stopped.

‘Just get to the point.’

‘Yes, I will. But you mustn’t touch me when I’m trying to concentrate. So then I said, very well, I would take Heidi to her mother in Simmering and her unborn child would be raised to a useful trade, and the Swan Princess went into a paroxysm (which was her snobbery fighting with her blood-lust for babies) and her blood-lust won and she said no Spittau born or unborn was going to be raised away from the ancestral home, and then she told Maxi he had to marry Heidi! So then we had the wedding and I came to give Martha the Lily, only she wasn’t there.’ She broke off. ‘Guy, isn’t that Martha out there? Only, what is she doing?’

‘Good God!’

Tessa was looking out through the double doors of the hall across to the chapel — round the side of which there had just appeared, crawling slowly on hands and knees, the plump sandy-haired figure of Martha Hodge.

Guy was across the courtyard in a moment. ‘Martha, have you gone completely mad?’

His foster-mother crawled another painful yard, then rose stiffly to her feet. ‘Ee, I dunno,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Rudi said as how I’d feel better when I’d done this penance, like, and I’ve ruined me stockings right enough and bruised me knees. But what the Reverend Ridley would say in Byker—’ And as Guy continued to look at her in stunned amazement she went on. ‘It’s what King Louis-the-something did when he got on the wrong side of the pope, crawled three times round the church, only on ’is stomach. It was all those lies I told, see — saying I was poorly and getting young David to call away the station-master and all that faddle so as to get the lass up here. And me not even knowing if she ’adn’t married the prince, like they all said…’

It was Tessa, coming up behind Guy and thoroughly familiar with the problems of guilt and retribution, who now took charge.

‘That wasn’t telling lies, Martha,’ she said earnestly. ‘That was strategy, like in a war.’ Then she exclaimed, ‘Oh, you’re wearing the locket! Isn’t the picture good of him! You wouldn’t believe the fuss he made about getting photographed.’

A great sigh of release and fulfilment now issued from Martha Hodge.

‘It was you, then,’ she said. ‘I knew… I just knew…’ and opened her arms.

But when the hugs and explanations were over and Martha had gone to change her lacerated stockings Guy and Tessa, seeking the shelter of the library, found themselves interrupted once again. Preceded by a fusillade of agitated knocks Herr Witzler, distraught and unannounced, burst into the room.

‘Herr Farne, I have bad news! Everything else is all right, I completely assure you. Every single article is labelled and waiting in the warehouse in Neustadt to be brought back when you give the order. But I, personally, have broken a Dresden figurine. Boris warned me… I knew you only wanted the stage-hands and it is true that I myself am not actually used to moving furniture, but I wanted to come too. After all, it was my company.’ And as Guy frowned, he added hastily, ‘I was extremely well disguised: my Aryan outfit. There was no question of Frau Hurlingham recognizing me. But in the excitement, I dropped the figurine. I understand that it is very valuable. Will you accept the first takings from Fricassée as compensation?’

‘No,’ said Guy. ‘Our deal was that I would get the theatre back for you if you carried out your task successfully. Fricassée was nowhere mentioned and I am not remotely interested in financing it.’

‘Herr Farne, I assure you that once you have heard—’

‘I’ll talk to you later, Witzler. Now, go away.’

‘Yes, Herr Farne.’

But Witzler had now seen Tessa, standing beside the Englishman and reminding him suddenly of Our Lady of Sprotz, glowing with candles as she was carried through the streets at Easter — a sinful and unforgettable sight he had beheld from his bedroom window while studying for his bar mitzvah. He bowed, left and rushed down the steps to where Boris was waiting.

‘It’s all right, it’s splendid — it’s all as we hoped! You should see how he looks at Tessa: as if she had at that moment been lowered from Paradise!’

‘So he should,’ said Boris gruffly. He had been so impressed by his own appearance as chief bailiff that he was growing a South American moustache, an enterprise still in its infancy.

‘Tristan is a herring compared to him,’ continued Witzler. ‘You’ll see, he’ll deny her nothing! Our accounts he may audit,’ Jacob admitted, ‘but that is all.’

A great radiance spread over his Old Testament countenance as he looked into the future. The plate-layers’ chorus wafting from the battlements… Raisa soaking up the ultra-violet… Pino’s uvula awash with eggs… And later, Cosi Fan Tutte and Figaro…

‘I shall learn to milk a cow,’ said Jacob, and hurried off to find a telephone and give his Rhinemaiden the joyful news.

‘Guy, I don’t think I completely understand,’ said Tessa, when they were alone at last.

‘It’s quite simple. I decided that the time had come to terminate my engagement to Nerine. However, I had no desire to humiliate her personally, nor did I wish to be embroiled in a messy breach of promise case. So I hired Witzler’s troupe to act as bailiffs and strip the place. Your friend, Bubi, gave me the idea — bailiffs seemed to be much on his mind. It was an absurd charade and wouldn’t have deceived anyone with the slightest faith in me. Even Martha smelled a rat, though fortunately, she held her tongue. But as you see, it worked.’

‘So you’re not ruined at all?’ said Tessa, abandoning with reluctance the free and roaming life with shoelaces she had envisaged.

‘I’m afraid not. In fact, I used the time to pull off a couple of rather profitable deals. You’re disappointed, I see. Don’t you think a wealthy husband might be quite useful, in view of your penchant for succouring the arts?’

Tessa nodded, seeing the justice of this. ‘Only, I do have this wedding dress which I think it would be a pity to waste. It’s from Lucia di Lammermoor, but it’s not bloodstained. It’s the nightdress that’s—’

But the helpful exposition on the plot of Donizetti’s masterpiece which Tessa was preparing, was cut short by Guy who now told her to be quiet.

‘I’m going to kiss you, you see,’ he explained.

Then he kissed her.

It was a very long time before he let her go. When he did, she looked up at him, hurt and bewilderment on her face.

‘Why did you stop?’ asked Tessa.

‘I thought you might want to breathe,’ said Guy carefully.

‘Breathe?’ said Tessa, shocked. ‘I don’t need to breathe when I’m with you.’

What came into his eyes then — eyes which seemed, at that moment, to have invented the colour blue — made her put up a hand as though to shield herself from so much joy.

This hand he now removed.

‘In that case…’ said Guy.