Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One

by Hedy Thalberg James

  “I’m so glad you have arrived at this solution! Especially with only one son close to us, we need each other’s support.” Verena was joyfully surprised and stunned by the firm commitment. She secretly admitted to herself that, up to now, no one had ever had any chance to do something on his or her own. Everyone had always adhered to Papa’s instructions, believing that everything was working out to perfection, until recently when Philip spoke up.

  So once again, the Reinhardts would begin a new way of life. Hannes was making his entrance just as Philip was planning to make his exit. And she, herself, would have no choice but to look forward and see how all of this would affect her own future.

  24

  “The Ambassador expects to see you at once, Count von Wintersberg!” An aide bowed to Manfred von Wintersberg, who had returned late the night before from his journey to Berlin, where he had gone to bury his son, Oscar. Looking at him, there was no noticeable emotion, had there ever been any. He followed with a courteous but wordless nod.

  “Well, well, Vice-Consul. How is our beloved Berlin?” the Ambassador asked in his usual boisterous voice, never pausing or expecting a reply. “I would bet our city is nothing short of beautiful! My wife and daughter cannot wait to return there. Unlike your family, they hate Vienna, and all the Austrians that come with it! Friendly on the outside and hateful beneath. Quite two-faced, don’t you agree? Between you and me, I have written to our Emperor and requested a transfer—in a roundabout way, you know—to anywhere else. However, I am hoping for Luxemburg, of course!”

  Manfred hastened to assure the Ambassador that he concurred entirely. “All of our beloved Germany is beautiful, sir! I am in agreement with you wholeheartedly!”

  “I thought you would be!” His sure smile told von Wintersberg that he had not expected any contradiction. “There are three reasons why I asked you here to see me. Take a seat, Manfred. But first, please accept our condolences. What a pity!”

  Von Wintersberg uttered a quiet, disdainful, “Thank you, sir,” secretly thinking that the death of his canary, whose voice he greatly admired, would have affected him considerably more.

  “The second matter is that there will be an opening in Madrid by the end of September. Count Rohr, the present Vice-Consul, has encountered severe heart problems and is no longer able to fill the required attendance to his position and the entailing matters. The Emperor has asked me, via courier, to find and assign someone worthy of this prestigious position. A speedy promotion to Consul is almost certain. Granted, Spain is a rather strange country. Too many fanatic Catholics! Well, I guess there is no other country as lax as Austria!” He laughed mirthfully. “But Spain, there is another country entirely, with all of its ethnic groups it is currently plagued with. I’m sure, in time, the King will settle their problems. I really want you to consider this offer, von Wintersberg!”

  “I don’t have to, Your Excellency! Like yourself, I’ll take a transfer to anywhere.”

  “Well good! That almost answers my third question, which concerns the newly arisen situation in your household.” He continued, pleased by Manfred’s eagerness to show his back to Vienna without any second thoughts. “To tell you the truth, for days now, Vienna’s newspapers have been devoting column after column to the late architect Karl Reinhardt and his accomplishments which pertained to Vienna and it’s housing and infrastructure. His daughter and son-in-law are also being mentioned quite frequently. I’m certain they’re all good people—by Austrian standards, that is. His grandson, Philip, however, must be another story altogether! Although an engineer by profession, which is quite remarkable for someone so wealthy, he is mostly known for playing around with the fairer sex. In addition to this, he is also said to be a regular visitor to the few bordellos that pride themselves in employing, so-called high-class girls, of which most of them are imported from France. It has always been puzzling to me how any harlot could be called high class by any means. It must have something to do with the amount of money they are able to bring for these places. As far as I’m concerned, they are either high-class ladies, or they are whores, but never mention both in the same breath!” he concluded, his watery eyes on Manfred.

  “I have just lost a son in a duel over one of these ‘daughters of joy’ and I agree, Your Excellency! Nothing of this sort will ever repeat itself in my family. I’ll make sure of that. And although it’s an entirely different problem, my Victoria will be safe from this Romeo who had the audacity to knock on our door just yesterday and to ask for her! Believe me, it took me less than a minute to tell him where to go!” He smiled proudly, still savoring his quickness of mind in making his decision concerning Spain. “As you might understand, a quick departure for my family and myself is even more welcome under these circumstances. Please be assured of my gratitude, and also that I shall never disappoint Your Excellency!” he vowed and rose, almost too moved for a formal good-bye.

  The Ambassador noted this with a smile, indicated that their business had been taken care of and wished him well. What Manfred von Wintersberg had not been told was that the Ambassador had not been unselfish in giving him the dirty story on Philip. It was more along the lines of thinking that Victoria, lovely as she was, was not going to take away the greatest catch in Vienna. With her gone, his daughter would at least have a fighting chance.

  Manfred returned to his desk, feeling more than elated. It didn’t bother him that no one even seemed to have noted that he had been gone. Not a word of sympathy or any question about Berlin.

  ∼

  “We are leaving for Spain by the end of August, Lotte. We’re on our way!” he proclaimed lightly as he entered, before asking, “Where’s Victoria?”

  “Resting in her room,” his wife answered a bit sharply, annoyed with his disclosure. “She still has to come to terms with her brother's sudden death. For that matter, I too have to get some rest. He was, after all, my son!”

  “Sunny Spain will cheer all of us up!” he said, ignoring her implication, and continuing on. “We certainly need a change in pace! I also suggested this to the Ambassador after he made this generous offer. He, also, is trying to leave Vienna! We have all remained here much too long.”

  Lotte, already angry with him for not showing any acknowledgment of her feelings about their son’s death, nor their state of sadness, now became even more aggravated hearing him boast about leaving for Spain. She was still quite unhappy with him for behaving so erratically towards Philip and for not respecting their daughter's feelings in that regard. She was ready to hear his explanation about a few things, and felt that even though he was not a man who easily apologized, he would have to make amends and give at least some kind of account. “Tell me about Oscar's death and the funeral,” she said abruptly, adding with a rather chilly voice, “and let’s not pretend as if nothing had taken place. He was your son too. A poor, misunderstood young man who had so much to give, and was never able to prove it to anyone!” Her voice trailed listlessly away as she crushed a handkerchief in her clenched hand.

  “I was hoping to be able to spare you all of the details, Lotte, but I have a feeling that you really want to know.” He challenged her outburst with a stony face.

  “I would prefer to know everything that led to his death! Whatever he might have done, I, for my part, have already forgiven him. Nothing Oscar might have done could have been his fault alone!” she said slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “All right, Lotte. Since you have already defended him without knowing anything, I will tell you,” he said, uncomfortably adjusting his highly starched collar. “After he left the military academy, Oscar played the piano in a rather run-down bordello. He also occupied a room in a flop-house! You may also like to know that his roommate was a former convict, who is making his living by vandalizing people. The duel was over a widely known prostitute, who, by the way, had repaid them generously by giving them—” He hesitantly cleared his throat, trying to find the proper expression to use. “well, in giving both of them
syphilis! Maybe all of this will still make you a proud mother. As for myself, I have since died a thousand deaths! I could have born anything…his gambling debts, whatever! But this? Personally, I am greatly relieved that all of this has come to an end. I don’t expect that you, nor Victoria, will understand, so feel free to fault me for all of it. I just don’t fit into a life of low morals! And you might as well also know that this is why I closed the door on Victoria’s caller last night. He has the same vices and I will not stand for him to despoil my child, and I shall fight him to my death if need be!”

  Lotte heard, but momentarily did not want to address her daughter's dilemma with Philip, so she asked instead, “Did any of your, or my family attend the funeral? Or more to the point, how much have you told them?”

  He looked at her as if he did not understand her question and finally answered. “I never talked to or visited anyone. The boy only lived two days after I arrived, and those two days I spent at the hospital. I had him buried in Potters’ Field. He never liked our fa—”

  “No! You didn’t! You couldn’t have!” she shrieked suddenly.

  Manfred was visibly offended by her loud scream and ordered harshly, “Control yourself, Lotte!”

  Ignoring him, she ran to Victoria’s room, unable to restrain herself, and retelling what she had just heard, brought Victoria also into a state of distress, repeatedly uttering, “How could he?”

  Her mother felt sorry now for having furthered her daughter's own discomfort and tried to calm her. “You and I are going to Berlin, child. We are going to have Oscar buried in my family’s plot! The von Wintersbergs’ are shabby anyhow. No one ever takes care of their graves. Let’s teach your father a lesson! He is long overdue for one!”

  The maid entered after a soft knock on the door of Victoria’s room, handing her a telegram and confiding that it had come with others for the Count. “It was easy to separate it from the rest without being observed,” she smiled conspiratorially. Victoria thanked her with relief, hastily tearing open the letter.

  Observing her daughter’s face, which had turned from sadness to a happy expression, she commented. “It must be good news from Philip?”

  “Oh yes, Mother. He says he’ll be waiting for me every day at Pracher’s from four until seven. And he hopes to see me there!”

  “We will somehow have to make it very soon. Best be tomorrow since I am planning to leave for Berlin as soon as possible. As far as your father is concerned, he’ll not even notice. You might take either Martha or Irma Kronthaler along.”

  “No, Mother!” Victoria interrupted her mother’s stream of plans. “I would rather have him wait and worry for a bit! I hesitate to make it too easy for a man like him.” She smiled quite confidently to her mother, but their conversation was quickly ended as they heard Manfred’s steps coming towards Victoria’s room.

  “May I come in? Lotte? Victoria?” he asked awkwardly.

  “No!” both replied sternly.

  “Well, well…” he said in an irritated tone of voice, but nevertheless went to visit his most prized possession, the canary, that was, as usual, singing its heart out. “I suppose you are the only one that understands me,” he uttered sadly, stroking the feathers of his bird, which had tamely come out of its cage and sat on one of his outstretched hands. As the bird finally settled on his shoulder, he reached for his pipe, lit it and sat down to routinely open the newspaper, only to be staring again at the name of the architect Reinhardt. “The city council has decided to honor him in naming one of the streets Reinhardt-Straβe,” the paper cited.

  “Anything at all, as long as this name would never be linked with the name von Wintersberg!” he thought.

  ∼

  Philip had, as he had promised, waited day after day for Victoria, but had not even seen any sight of her. He was devastated not to have at least received any response, not even by her maid. He had made sure to include his new address in the telegram, and the more he thought about it, the more he thought that her father might have kept the telegram from her, and that she too might be waiting for a sign from him. In his gloomy state of mind, he finally asked a waiter to find out for him. With a generous tip, one would always find out more than what one had asked for. Again, he faulted himself for not having thought of this sooner. He completely failed to understand why he had encountered such difficulty with von Wintersberg. The waiter declined, politely explaining that he could be fired for such indiscretions. Even though disappointed, Philip respected his honesty. He mused that waiters like this were still a rarity, when he encountered Consul Kronthaler and his wife entering the café in a rather jovial mood.

  “Heaven sent!” he thought, immediately getting to his feet to greet them both cordially. “I’m not sure whether you remember me and I ask your pardon for my uncivil manner, since I have not formally been introduced to you and, therefore, don’t even know your names.”

  “Kronthaler, Ernst. My wife Irma. And you are Mr. Philip Reinhardt,” the Consul said easily, perceiving Philip’s obvious discomfort about his unusual approach.

  “Oh!” Philip stammered. “I am happy to make your acquaintance and I am glad that you remembered me from when I brought Miss von Wintersberg over to your table.”

  “That would only be one reason! However, there are not too many people in Vienna who have not encountered at least one of the Reinhardt family.” The Consul smiled and continued. “And as it stands now, every newspaper carries details about the life and death of your late grandfather!”

  “This is very typical of Vienna. Once in the grave, one is rated higher. For, while alive, he made many enemies!”

  “That’s not what we hear! We had the pleasure of meeting him on several occasions.”

  “May I offer you a seat in my booth? Unless, of course, you are expecting someone.”

  “It’s our pleasure, Mr. Reinhardt! It’s just our coffee time.”

  In the course of their conversation, they came to talk about the von Wintersbergs and Philip grasped his chance to mention his deplorable situation with the Count, when he had been asking for Victoria, and finally came to the point of inquiring about her whereabouts.

  “Mother and daughter left quite unexpectedly for Berlin about a week ago, according to the Count. I understand they are expected to be back within the next few days, since Victoria is going to resume attending her classes. By July, she will have her diploma in art.” Irma gave him all the free information he would not have dared expect to receive. “You may use our address, in the event of any urgency, and be assured, all will be handled with the utmost discretion!” She smiled conspiratorially and added, “Not because we are diplomats, but because we are Victoria and her mother’s best friends.”

  “Count von Wintersberg is having a rather difficult time at this point in his life,” the Consul added, handing him their address.

  “Thank you so very much!” Philip smiled gratefully at both and took leave from them after a renewed apology, brushing her outstretched hand with a slight kiss and exchanging a hearty handshake with the Consul.

  Since the hospital offered the safest place for a one on one talk with his father, Philip decided to take the short walk there. His father and he had become very close within the past few trying weeks, and had resolved between themselves that Verena would be left with very little choice but to adapt herself to the situation in time. But since they both were certain that a life without her two men would be most unlikely, they were hoping she would come around in the very near future.

  “May I interrupt you for a bit, Father? I have some rather good news I’d like to share with you.” Philip surprised his father in his office, smiling broadly and cheerfully.

  “When will you ever believe me when I tell you that you will always be welcome, Philip? Sometimes, however, you may have to be a bit patient, should I be in surgery.” Hannes patted his son’s shoulder, adding, “Maybe I did leave you with the wrong impression in the past, but now that we are both grown men, I believe that w
e can both understand why there is sometimes some waiting to be done to have a good conversation. Now then, sit down and tell me all about your good news!” He looked expectantly at him, glad to finally hear something positive since he had gotten used to his son’s constant disappointments.

  “I’ve just found out that Victoria and her mother have gone to Berlin, apparently an urgent matter in connection with her brother's death, but they are returning soon. By sheer coincidence, I met her friends, the Kronthalers, at the Cafe Pracher! You remember, I told you that I had met them at the ball. By the way, they were surprisingly open about knowing our family." He continued, tongue in cheek. "For Prussians, they sure are fond of Austrians! Anyhow, I don't believe that they were putting on a front just because of their profession. I believe that they are genuinely sincere, which is a lot more than one can say about some other diplomats!" He smirked, thinking of Count von Wintersberg, and watched his father, who in turn had been watching Philip's expression.

  Reading his mind, Hannes commented, “Of course, there are always those who consider what is actually their duty a burden and are not as nice as others, may they be Prussians or Austrians.”

  “What luck!” Philip told him. “Just think, they both offered to pass on any messages or letters I might want to forward to Victoria von Wintersberg, and left no doubt that they are friends of Victoria and her mother!”

  “How very convenient for you, and how kind of them! But what are you planning to do now, Philip?”