Days of Winter

by Cynthia Freeman

  Magda looked at her husband in a state of shock. He had just come in wearing his uniform. She didn’t know whether to faint, scream or break something. How could Rubin have done it … without talking to her? How dare he do such a thing without giving her notice? …Why hadn’t he prepared her? She was not British … she would not be stoical … she was too angry. “Why have you done this?” she screamed in French, then ran into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  Solange said, “Rubin, this is really brutal. At least you could have told Magda you were joining today—”

  His angry look quieted her, and then he went to the bedroom, where, when he tried to explain to Magda, she slapped him. She immediately felt remorse, but at the moment she was too Rumanian to remember her cultivated manners. They were useful in the drawing room … but now she would not behave like a gracious lady. “Damn you, Rubin … why did you do this to me? Without a word of warning—”

  He took hold of her firmly. “Magda, I was wrong, I should have told you, but—”

  “You didn’t even consider how this would affect me? What it will do to our lives? Why couldn’t you at least wait to be called up? Oh, don’t bother to explain, I know the answer … you couldn’t wait to be killed! How stupidly English—” She was crying, and Rubin pulled her against him. The hot anger gradually spent itself, and she relaxed in his arms.

  “Listen to me … I did what I had to do—”

  “You should have waited,” she said, crying softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “And if I had? It would only have been an argument.”

  “But you might have avoided service altogether …Your family has influence—”

  “Magda, darling, you may be right …I’m stupidly English, but this is my country and I can’t desert it—”

  “But you can desert me.”

  “Listen, darling, there is a war, you and I had nothing to do with starting it but we’re in it now, along with millions of other people who didn’t ask for it but must do their best with the reality of it.”

  She looked at him, kissed him impulsively, fiercely. “You and your damned English logic, you always win …I’m sorry I hit you, but sometimes you make me so mad …”

  “I know …”

  “In Rumania a man would beat a woman who did that.”

  “Well, this is not Rumania … and besides, you don’t slap very hard.” He smiled at her.

  She glared back at him, unable to stifle a smile of her own. “Perhaps not, but you do make me mad, Rubin … mad enough to kill you sometimes. Does that shock you …?”

  “Beyond words … in fact, so much that I want you and Solange to dress, and I mean in your most elegant attire. We, my murderous love, are going out to dine.”

  Had he not been Private Rubin Hack he’d have been turned away by the captain at the Café Royal. Enlisted men were not encouraged, but the Hack party was seated at a table in the corner. Rubin refused it and forced the captain to reseat them at a prominent table.

  “You’re a snob,” Solange chided.

  “Of course. Why shouldn’t I be, with two such beautiful women. I certainly don’t want to hide you in a corner.” …

  That night Rubin lay back and watched Magda get ready for bed. She sat on the slipper chair, rolling down her sheer stockings. His eyes never left her for a moment …Her slip fell to the carpeted floor … then the chemise. As she unhooked the front fastening, her delicately shaped breasts were exposed, showing the pink nipples, like small rosebuds …The scant panties were discarded, revealing the triangle of soft burnished hair between her slender, supple thighs. Slipping into a loose peignoir, she sat at the dressing table brushing her hair from its coiffed set. His eyes observed every movement, every motion … the way she took out the long hairpins and placed them in a china tray … the way she picked up the monogrammed silver brush … the way she removed the last traces of makeup. His eyes followed her until she was lost from his sight entering the bathroom.

  They were really quite simple things …A woman did them every day …But whatever Magda did was distinctive … her delicacy of movement … her fragility … and yet her strength …Even her anger was unique in a way that made Rubin smile … Untamed, yet there was really no malice in it. She was such a paradox.

  Oh, he was happy … With the world headed for war, he was happier tonight than he’d been in weeks. But now he knew that Leon was with him. His mother and father had forgiven him …Even more than that, they would protect Magda when he went away.

  His eyes followed her as she came out of the bathroom, took off the peignoir, and walked toward the bed. As she got into bed and he turned off the light, he thought of his father. Nathan was right. After the war, they’d settle in Paris, where he would paint …He could still picture each and every preliminary gesture of hers tonight. He opened his arms to her …“Later, darling, I’ve got a surprise for you, but not right now,” he said hungrily. “This moment is for me …”

  The next morning Magda rushed into Solange’s room.

  “What are you so happy about, Magda? Yesterday you were ready to—”

  “That was yesterday. Solange, I couldn’t wait … guess what!”

  “You’re going to have a baby?”

  “Don’t be foolish, no, no baby … no, no … Rubin’s family is coming today.”

  Solange could only gasp, “My God. …”

  “Well … they’re coming today, Solange, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you … I just don’t seem to believe it.”

  “Believe it.”

  “His whole family?”

  “No, his mother and father … and his brother Leon and his wife.”

  Shaking her head, Solange said, “God must love you a great deal. How and when did this happen?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Soit tranquille, be calm. Now tell me all about it.”

  “Well, Rubin met Leon at lunch yesterday …It all went well …Then he saw his parents.”

  “He saw his parents?”

  “Yes, and they don’t blame him for anything and they’re coming to meet me. What shall I wear?”

  Solange laughed. “Is that all you ever think of, what to wear?”

  “What should I think of … I want to make the right—”

  “One moment, please, Magda. Why are they coming here?”

  “Because they want to meet Rubin’s wife. You ask such … silly questions. I’ve been accepted, don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see.”

  “Why do you always make me unhappy …? You’re so infuriating, Solange.”

  “You haven’t yet been accepted, Duchess … not quite.”

  Magda was furious. “Sometimes I do hate you, Solange.”

  “I know. And it doesn’t bother me in the least.”

  “Why are you trying to take away the—”

  “… the joy of being accepted?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Because if they had accepted you, dear Duchess, you’d have been invited to their home.”

  Magda threw a pillow at Solange. “You’re jealous. You’re just trying to make me feel unsure of myself—”

  “Sit down, Magda …Your foolish little tantrums may work with Rubin, but not with me.”

  Fuming, Magda obeyed. “All right, I’m sitting …Now, tell me … what are you talking about?”

  “What I’m talking about is meeting a new member of the family. The invitation comes from them.”

  “I’m not particular about procedure.”

  “But they are, Magda. The Hacks are. I don’t want you to read more into this visit than there is. You have not been accepted.”

  Magda narrowed her eyes. “Then why are they coming?”

  “I’ll tell you honestly and frankly.”

  “Please do. Let me hear your pearls of wisdom.”

  “They’re coming because Rubin must have pleaded with them to come.”

  “That’s certainly frank enough, dear Countes
s. Why do you insist on offending me so?”

  The answer was swift. “Because I don’t want you to be hurt. If you think the Hacks are doing you a great honor, you’re in for a rude awakening. The other Hacks aren’t coming, not today or any other day. Prepare yourself for that.”

  “That’s how much you know. You said that Rubin wouldn’t marry me and he did …You said his family would never talk to me and they are, so you can’t be all that damned smart.”

  “His family are not merely his parents and a brother who’d lay his life down for Rubin in any case.”

  “Well, goddamn, it’s a start,” and she went into her bedroom, slamming the door.

  By lunch time her temper had miraculously vanished. As though the morning’s tantrum had never happened, Magda was now saying in her most winsome fashion: “Solange, don’t you think the Royal Crown Derby would be appropriate …? Your taste is so good. …”

  Solange grimaced. “You think my taste is good, do you?”

  “Yes … no one’s better.”

  Thank you, Your Highness. And do you know what should be served at high tea?”

  “I do, dear Countess, my dearest aunt. Remember, I spent five most miserable afternoons gorging myself on high tea at Brighton. Now, seriously, Solange … what shall I wear?”

  “Be understated, but elegant, and for God’s sake, don’t act like the Grand Duchess. Be gracious, be charming, and don’t tell them how much you detested Brighton. And, don’t be afraid of lessening up on the French accent. I know that we’re allies, but I don’t think that the Hacks want to feel that the Foreign Legion has landed. …”

  Magda, taking Solange’s counsel, was dressed well ahead of time. Nervously, she went back and forth from the kitchen to the drawing room. She examined the tea tray over and over again. She straightened the pictures, fluffed up the pillows, worried that the flowers weren’t arranged just so.

  She was satisfied with her gown. It was the same one she had worn when she met Solange. That time she had felt so plain, so underdressed, but today she knew it was exactly right. Besides, it should bring her luck. Putting on the strand of pearls, she appraised herself in the mirror … Voilà.

  She looked at Rubin in his uniform, then coquettishly pirouetted around and around, finally dropping with an exaggerated swan into his arms. He promptly kissed her, and she could feel the rough weave of his uniform through her soft chiffon …Oh God, the damn war … even though it did help to bring his parents here …She shook off the threat of depression. Not tonight … “Will they like me, do you think?” she asked.

  “They will love you.”

  A wistful smile played over her lips. “Love is a very strong word, Rubin. I only hope they’ll like me and accept me as your wife—”

  Then the bell was ringing. Taking a deep breath, she went with Rubin to the foyer. Anne opened the door. Nathan and Sara entered, followed by Deborah and Leon.

  “Mother … Father … may I present Magda, my wife …?”

  Magda smiled, extending her hand to Sara. “I have hoped for so long that this day would come.” And then to Nathan, “You have made Rubin and me so very happy. Thank you.” To Deborah, “It’s such a joy to meet you. Rubin has told me so much about you.” To Leon, “I would have recognized you on the street. The resemblance between you and Rubin is so great …” There was no strain, no awkwardness, as Rubin stood watching his wife. She was exactly as he had promised she would be. Now he said, “Shall we go into the drawing room?”

  Solange got up as they entered. “Mother, Father, may I present Magda’s aunt, Countess Boulard.” Solange was totally charming as she greeted each guest in turn. When the introductions were over, the sherry poured and a toast made to a speedy end to the war, they talked about how things were going in London, and the rumors that came from France. Did the Countess enjoy England? Yes, enormously. There were the theaters … the shops … the museums …What glorious times she had had in London. And Magda? She loved it. Had she been here before? No, she had been raised in Rumania … her father had been attached to the French Embassy there, after which she had been sent to Paris to live with Tante Solange.

  Solange dabbed her forehead with her lace handkerchief, then looked over at Magda, the cue that said, “time for tea.” Magda rang and the cart was wheeled in by Anne. Magda performed to perfection.

  Looking at Magda pouring the tea, Deborah never doubted for a moment that anyone Rubin would choose to be his wife could be anything but a perfect lady …How dare they …And when Leon looked at Rubin’s happy face, he knew his brother’s decision had been the right one. This was the woman he wanted to spend his life with, and Leon could understand his choice. Magda was indeed enchanting. It occurred to him that a Rumanian king had given up a throne because of another Magda. If a king could do it, then bravo, Rubin! he thought. English snobbery is nothing compared to having a woman you love. A woman like Magda.

  When the Hacks finally were about to leave, Deborah said, “Magda, you and Rubin and Solange will be our guests at a nice quiet dinner.” The implications were clear …“We’ll make that very soon.” She kissed Magda on the cheek. “It was most delightful, Magda.”

  “Welcome,” said Leon.

  “Good night, my dear, and thank you for a lovely tea,” said Nathan.

  “You’re a most gracious young woman. Thank you for making Rubin so happy,” Sara said, and meant it.

  When the door had shut, Rubin swept Magda up in his arms and whirled her around and around.

  “You were magnificent, Duchess,” said Solange, when Rubin put her down.

  “I beg your pardon, Countess. My name is Magda Hack of London, England. I’m not a duchess. I’m a commoner …”

  “Bravo, Magda Hack of London! You’ve done us proud.” Solange laughed happily to see her white swan.

  “Did they really like me?” Magda asked, a plea in her voice.

  “They loved you,” said Rubin, “just as I promised you they would. …”

  Rubin’s orders came within the fortnight. He was to report the next day. That night he held Magda in the dark silence of their bedroom. Suddenly he whispered to her, “Darling, I want a child … that belongs to both of us, that is both of us …”

  Magda was silent. This was something they’d never discussed, and she did not want a child. Not now. Why should she? To bring a child into a world at war …No. Rubin was enough for her …But how could she deny him …?

  She answered tentatively, “When you come home, darling—”

  “No, Magda, please … I want a child now …” He might not come home … not leaving an heir was like never having lived. And Magda would at least have something of his, something of theirs to live for, care for. “Please, Magda … it would mean a great deal to me. …”

  “Darling, I just don’t think this is the right time to think of having a child—”

  “It’s the only time. Don’t you want one?”

  “Of course, but you’re going away—”

  “That’s all the more reason …”

  She hated herself for giving in …She had not even begun her new life and now Rubin wanted to saddle her with a child she didn’t want. If, God forbid, he didn’t come back she’d have another life to care for in this strange country …But to hear Rubin asking … well, it was more than she could bear. He was going away in the morning. The least she could do was try. But she prayed she would not succeed. …

  The next day Magda, Leon and Nathan saw Rubin off at the station. They were not alone. Husbands … wives … children huddled together, kissed, cried, waved good-bye. Then the soldiers were aboard, and the troop train moved out.

  Nathan seemed to be just a little more bent, a little more tired … a little more discouraged. He looked from the departing train to Leon, now in the uniform of an officer in His Majesty’s Navy. Nathan didn’t notice the impeccably tailored blue uniform with the gold braid on his cap. He only saw the man, his son. His sons would suffer more than he had in the Boer War
…That was a gentlemen’s war, complete with valet, luggage, silver military brushes, fine food and rare wines, tailored uniforms …Almost elegant, that war … a civilized war.

  As the train pulled away, with Rubin hanging out of the window waving, Magda told herself to remember how he looked at that moment … remember the thin, warm smile … the color of his eyes … his hair. She wanted to imprint him indelibly on her mind. Because she was convinced she was never going to see him again. She held tight to Leon’s arm as Rubin’s face disappeared into the distance.

  The Hack sons were now widely scattered. Maurice was attached to the admiralty, with the rank of captain, where he sometimes worked around the clock. Phillip was a commander on a battleship somewhere off the coast of France. And Leon was attached to a man-of-war in the middle of the Atlantic. Leon’s leaving had taken a great emotional and physical toll on his wife Deborah. And despite her valiant attempts, she could scarcely hide the fact that her condition had worsened.

  Nathan too had changed, almost overnight, from a vigorous man to a bent-over man who was almost gaunt. There was a vagueness about him, his mind seemed to wander in conversation as though it were some place in the Atlantic aboard a destroyer. His sons were his life. Sara tried to shield and comfort Nathan as best she could. And she worked much too hard, spending long hours at the hospital doing the most menial tasks, which often were beyond her physical stamina. But she refused to be used for less strenuous duties.

  Toward the end of November Rubin received his orders to leave for the front. At least the agony of waiting was over. Magda’s reaction to his letter was at first terror, then a determination to play a role the family would appreciate. She would invite them to dinner, and in the middle of it she would give them the news … her news … that up to this moment nobody shared.

  It was a fine dinner, and over coffee, Magda lifted a tall, slender champagne glass, “To my dear husband … and family. I wish to make an announcement.” Everyone raised their glasses. “I have something that belongs to us all … a child …”