“Just walking.”
He seemed surprised. Disapproving, I thought.
“Were you alone? If you had a witness, there might possibly be a chance of tracing the car.”
“There was no witness,” I said steadily.
He gave me an odd look, as if he didn’t believe me and was wondering why I’d lied. But Raimund merely laughed.
“That’ll teach you to wander around on your own after dark, Gail.”
Sigrid frowned reprovingly. “You shouldn’t make a joke of it, Raimund. But he’s right, Gail, you really must take more care in future. It is unwise to walk on the roads after dark.”
“It was hardly after dark, just twilight,” I protested, resenting their implication that I myself had been partly to blame.
In the salon after dinner Karl came in bearing a white telephone with its cord in a neat coil. Herr Schiller was on the line, he announced. Would Frau Kreuder take the call in here? She nodded, and he plugged in for her.
Sigrid spoke in English, which she normally did when I was around. A frown appeared on her brow as she listened, and I watched her fingers pinching up a crease in the folds of her purple silk gown.
“But I told you ... no, I am quite sure. Please do as I ask, Ernst.” Her gaze flickered towards Anton, met his, and fell quickly away. ‘Thank you, yes, we are all well. Poor Gail has had rather a shock this evening ... a drunken driver. She might easily have been killed.” Sigrid answered his question about where it happened, assuring him that I was unharmed. “No, Ernst, we haven’t informed the police. There would be no point, would there, when we can give them no information? Yes, I will tell her. Wiedersehen. Oh, just one moment ... I think Anton wants to speak to you.”
In fact Anton wanted to speak to Helga. And when she came on the line he spoke in German. Half listening to him, Sigrid told me that Ernst had said if I happened to remember anything about the incident, to let him know at once and he would take the matter up.
“It’s kind of him to offer,” I said, “but I’m sure I won’t, because I just didn’t see any more than I’ve already told you.”
Raimund, I noticed, was listening to what his half-brother was saying on the phone with an expression of growing astonishment. This was explained when Anton replaced the receiver.
“I was asking Helga if she’d like to come to Geneva tomorrow, Gail. It would be nice if we could make up a foursome. Raimund and I have to go there on business, and ...”
“I thought you said it would be a waste of time,” Raimund cut in. “So what’s happened to make you change your mind?”
Anton didn’t mask his impatience. “What I actually said was that you wouldn’t have the time. That was when I expected I’d still be in America and everything would be on your shoulders. But now that I’m back and things at the silk mill are reasonably straight, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t go to Geneva.”
“But I’ve got a date in the evening,” Raimund objected.
“Then cancel it. This is business.”
Perhaps to forestall a disagreement between her son and stepson, Sigrid intervened by explaining to me that there was to be a fashion show in Geneva next day.
“Lafay’s, one of our top couture houses, is exhibiting a summer collection,” she said, “and they will be making a feature of Kreuder silks. If it wasn’t that air travel upsets me, I would have very much liked to go myself.”
“I see.” I glanced at Anton. “I hope you’re not thinking of this trip purely on my account?”
“Not at all, but I thought you’d be interested. I know Helga will enjoy it, and she’s agreed to come. What do you say?”
I hesitated, thinking of Willi. If I went with them to Geneva tomorrow, I’d not be able to see him until the following day. But I could hardly refuse this invitation without appearing churlish.
“I’d love to come,” I said.
Anton nodded. “Good, then it’s settled. We’ll make an early start.”
“And I advise you, Gail,” added Sigrid, “to go to bed early. You still look pale. I’ll give you one of my sleeping pills—they’re very mild—and it will help you to get a good night’s rest.”
But it didn’t help. In fact I lay awake far into the night. And when I finally dropped off, my sleep was disturbed by images of blazing lights and a rush of sound, so real, so vivid, that once I suddenly sat up in bed, shocked into wakefulness.
By morning, I felt so drained that a trip to Geneva seemed the very last thing I wanted to do.
* * * *
It was a crisp, bright morning. Beyond the balustrade the lake was ruffled by a skittish breeze, the water stained pale apricot by the early sun. I had come out of doors to breathe the fresh air and try to shake off the lassitude of a restless night.
By my watch there was still over half an hour to go before Anton and Raimund would be calling back for me. According to Ursula, they had departed for the silk mill first thing. It was typical of Anton, I thought, not to permit the wasting of a precious working minute. I was only surprised that he’d decided both he and his brother could afford to take most of a day off for this fashion show.
The gardener’s truck was parked in its usual place, and it made me think again of Willi. If I used my car I would just have time to go up to the chalet to see if by chance he was there. It seemed worth a try. As I backed the Fiat out of the garage I knew that Josef was watching me, leaning on the handle of his besom broom. I refused to acknowledge him, not daring to trust my temper.
The drive up the rutted track took scarcely three minutes. As I stepped out of the car by the chalet I was disappointingly aware, with that curious instinct I seemed to have acquired where Willi was concerned, that he wasn’t here. All the same, I went inside and glanced around. The usual tidiness greeted me, yet I sensed that things were not precisely as they should be. Then I remembered the carvings, the boat and the three figures, which Willi had dropped when his father had come storming in. Where were they now?
My eyes scanned the room. I went to the corner cupboard and opened it. Willi’s other carvings were still there on the shelf, but not the ones I was searching for. Nor were they in any of the other cupboards. So Willi must have returned, last night or earlier on this morning, and removed them. Why? Why?
From fear of his father, perhaps? Or fear of the man who was symbolised by that third crudely carved figure? Three people ... Benedict Sherbrooke, Valencienne Kreuder—and who else?
The minutes were slipping by, and I had to leave. Outside I hesitated, aware of a movement among the fir trees behind the chalet. Peering into the gloom, I saw Willi’s cat staring back at me, its eyes a sullen, sulphurous yellow. I advanced towards it, calling encouragingly and holding out my hand. But it retreated, body arched, lips stretched in a snarl as it spat hatred. This time there was no coaxing it into friendship.
Was Willi there too, hidden somewhere among the pines, watching me? I shouted his name, over and over again—pointless, of course, to a boy unable to hear. There was no response, and only a breathing stillness in the wood after the little cat— with a sudden bound—had vanished rustling into a patch of last year’s dead bracken.
I had no more time to spare. I returned to the Fiat and bumped down the track as fast as I dared. I was crossing the main highway when I saw Anton’s blue Mercedes approaching the turning. He followed on my tail as I drove through the gates of the Schloss and continued on into the courtyard. The moment I was out of my car he came striding over to me, a dark frown on his face.
“We have to leave in five minutes, Gail. You were supposed to be ready and waiting.”
“Well, I am ready.”
He didn’t like being put in the wrong. “All the same, you’ve cut it rather fine. Where have you been?”
“If you must know,” I said coolly, “I just stopped by the chalet to see if by chance Willi was there.”
“And was he?”
“No.”
Anton’s frown deepened and his lips went ta
ut. “You seem to be obsessed with the boy. But you’re not doing him a kindness, you know, by trying to befriend him. He’ll only miss you when you’re gone.”
When you’re gone.
Those words again, they sounded so chilling. Once more I felt a pang of dismay at the thought of leaving Switzerland. Who, except Willi, would miss me when I went away? Would Anton? Or would he be thankful to see the back of me? Since that episode on the mountain there had been a wariness between us, and I sensed that he found my presence here an embarrassment to him. Was that the reason, I wondered guiltily, why I felt so anxious to build a relationship with Willi, because I knew in my heart that nobody else would really care whether I stayed or whether I left?
In a mood of defiance, I said, “I feel that Willi needs a friend, even if I am only here for a short while longer.”
Anton sighed impatiently. “I believe that within his limitations Willi is contented. He’s well cared for by his aunt and uncle.”
“And his father?”
The smoke-grey eyes were steady as they met mine. “If I found out that Josef was ill-treating Willi in any way, he wouldn’t keep his job. I’m sure he knows that.” He glanced around as another car drove up. “Good, here’s Raimund. We’ll get moving right away.” Almost as an afterthought, he added in a gentler voice, “How are you feeling this morning, Gail? Still shaken up?”
“I feel a lot better than I did.”
He studied my face. That scratch is scarcely visible now. The day out should do you good.”
* * * *
We flew first class to Geneva, and I was given a conducted tour of the city. Raimund was as cheerful as a schoolboy let out on a surprise half-holiday, and even Helga managed a thin smile at me from time to time. Anton seemed abstracted, though, as if he had something worrying him.
We lunched, magnificently, at one of the lakeside restaurants. Reflections of sunlight on water danced across the ceiling, and somewhere in a distant room a pianist played waltzes by Lehar and Strauss.
And then by taxi to the House of Lafay.
The mirrored salon, all powder-puffy Pompadour with decorated woodwork and crystal chandeliers, dainty little gilt chairs and bowls of hothouse roses, was already crowded to overflowing.
We were greeted by the elderly Madame Lafay herself, looking superbly elegant, unperturbed by the panics and battles of temperament that I guessed were raging behind the scenes. I felt the vibrant impact of her personality as she sized me up in one swift glance, my British nationality, my off-the-peg outfit of pleated cream skirt and black velvet blazer, my total lack of importance to her.
“Ah, the Messieurs Kreuder. How delightful to see you, how kind of you to attend my little collection. And you have brought your sister. How nice.”
“May I introduce Gail Sherbrooke, from London,” said Anton.
I was awarded a gracious smile, a flattering question or two.
“You will all come to my private party this evening, of course,” she went on, adding kindly for Helga’s benefit and mine, “It is to be quite informal. No need to dress up—come just as you are.”
“It’s very good of you to invite us, Germaine,” said Anton.
“I shall be honoured to have you there ... the creators of these glorious fabrics. I hope you’ll think I have done them justice.”
Madame Lafay drifted away to other guests, and soon the show commenced. In silence a tall blond girl stepped out onto the podium, displaying an evening gown of jade green crepe de Chine, with flying panels of the peacocks and pagodas print I had seen in the Kreuder showroom. She paraded, poised and self-confident, spreading her silken wings and looking like some splendid exotic bird. It was a breathtaking beginning.
As the show continued, Helga disparaged the beautiful clothes while Raimund applauded the girls wearing them. A long-legged sun-tanned model was showing off a sexy cat suit when Madame Lafay drifted our way again, and I heard Anton whisper to her, “I wonder if I might use your phone, Germaine? I’d like to ring the mill.”
“But of course, cheri. In my office. You know where.”
He returned five minutes later, looking displeased.
“I’ll have to get back right away,” he told Raimund.
“Why, what’s the trouble?”
I knew already that Kreuder’s had been commissioned to produce a replica of some ancient Persian silk cloth for the palace of an oil sheikh, and it appeared that the incorporated gold thread was giving trouble on the loom.
“I’ve had an uneasy feeling ever since this morning that something would go wrong with this job,” Anton said. “That’s why I rang Franz Lemmer.”
“Surely he can handle it himself?” Raimund seemed puzzled. “There’s not much that Franz doesn’t know about silk weaving.”
Anton shook his head. “I’d rather not take the risk. We’re badly behind schedule on this order. If I can get the trouble rectified at once, they can put in some overtime on it tonight.”
“Germaine won’t be any too pleased if we walk out on her show. And don’t forget the party this evening.”
“I’ve already made my apologies to Germaine, but naturally you three must stay on.” He glanced quickly at his watch. “I can just about make the next plane if I hurry. I’m sorry to have to rush away, but there it is.”
I was swept by a sense of desolation that he was going. Just because this day with Anton was suddenly to be cut short, I felt crushed. I wanted to clutch his arm and beg him not to leave us.
He paused in the act of turning away. “What is it, Gail? You’ve gone quite pale.”
“It ... it’s nothing.”
I was pale no longer as colour flooded my face. How cruelly unfair to be caught like this—so totally off my guard—with the sudden discovery that I loved him. I needed desperately to be on my own, to assess the situation coldly and argue it away. Because it was impossible. Unthinkable. His wife and my father in a sordid liaison which had culminated in a double drowning. That it was neither any fault of mine, nor any fault of Anton’s, was an irrelevance. The stark fact lay between us in all its horror.
“I ... I’ve really got to go.”
But still he didn’t move, and a strange expression came into his eyes. He flicked a glance at his brother. “Raimund, take care of Gail, won’t you?”
And then he was gone. I watched him walk away, and the crowded room seemed empty when he’d disappeared. The show continued, but I saw nothing of it. Until Raimund turned to me and said, “There aren’t many women who could get away with a dress like that, Gail, but you’d look fantastic in it.”
I shook myself out of my daze and saw a dark, petite girl modelling a body-hugging creation in red silk jersey. I tried to think of a flip answer, but Helga was looking daggers at me, and I decided it was best to keep silent. Glancing away, I allowed my mind to wander once more, following Anton on each stage of his journey back to Zurich.
The evening party was held in Germaine Lafay’s apartment in a tower block high above the city. I found welcome solitude on a balcony that was scented with hyacinths. I leaned against the wrought-iron balustrade and watched the moon come up over Lake Geneva, drawing a glittering silver finger across the dark water. My throat was thick with tears and I wanted to linger here, away from people, to indulge myself with secret dreams of Anton.
But the growing chill of the April evening finally drove me back inside, and I tried my hardest to chat and look as if I were enjoying myself. I found it easier to cling to Raimund, and he made no objection, seeming rather gratified.
We had to leave quite early to catch the last flight back to Zurich. And from there, because Anton had taken his car from the airport park, we went by taxi. After we’d dropped Helga at her home in Wollishofen, I realised that I’d made a mistake in sticking close to Raimund, it had given him the wrong impression. He moved nearer to me, and slid his arm around my waist.
“Poor Helga, it was tough on her having an attractive girl like you around. It highlighted the
contrast.”
I edged away from him. “Don’t be so unkind to your sister.”
“She’s unkind to herself. Helga’s been her own worst enemy for as long as I can remember.”
I tactfully changed the subject. It was a wonderful show this afternoon. You must have felt proud to have so many compliments about Kreuder silks.”
“Maybe. But I felt prouder still of having you with me, Gail.” He turned in the seat so that his face was close to mine, and I felt his breath warm against my cheek. “We make a great pair, don’t we?”
“Oh, stop being silly, Raimund.”
“Silly? You like me, Gail, don’t you?”
“Yes ... but that’s as far as it goes.”
He laughed and said confidently, “Give it time, Liebes, just give it time.”
The village was deserted and almost in darkness as we passed through, still a little before midnight. But there were lights on at the Schloss, and Karl came into the hall when we went in. He said he hoped we’d had a pleasant day in Geneva, and asked if we wanted refreshments. Frau Kreuder had retired some time ago, he added, and Herr Anton had also gone to bed.
“No, I don’t think I want anything, thanks,” I said to him. “I think I’ll go straight up myself.”
“So will I,” said Raimund. “Gute Nacht, Karl.”
The manservant hesitated, glancing doubtfully at me, then he muttered something to Raimund in an undertone. Raimund asked a sharp question, Karl mumbled a reply. There was another exchange, then Raimund shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to me.
“Is something wrong?” I enquired.
Both men were looking at me uneasily. Raimund made a slight silencing movement with his hand as if to forestall anything Karl might have said.
“It’s just ... something that’s cropped up, Gail.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean to be nosey. But from the way you were speaking, it sounded serious.”
Raimund forced a smile, forcing a casualness into his voice. “It’s certainly nothing you need bother about, not tonight. Come on, let’s go upstairs. I’m dog tired.”
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