"What brings you here today, my child?"
"I have some news…"
"News…?" Despite the slight inflection at the end of the word, the Reverend Mother's facial expression remained unchanged. Truth be told, she'd given up being surprised years ago, having been tested by more than her fair share of rebellious postulants and wayward nuns. Only a little more than halfway through her secondment to the von Trapp household, perhaps she'd decided to settle on a career in teaching after all. If that was God's will, it certainly was a sudden turn around. The Lord knows, Maria had been more determined than most young girls to become a nun. "Well, well, Maria… I wasn't expecting to see you for weeks."
"I know, Reverend Mother," Maria answered a little too quickly. "But it couldn't wait, and it's only right you should be one of the first to know," talking too fast, her words were running into themselves. "And, well… I don't want you to hear from anyone else, well not that anyone else really knows, but you never…"
"Maria…" the Reverend Mother held up her hand to cut off the torrent of words tumbling from the girl's mouth.
"Yes, Mother…?"
"Why don't you catch your breath while we take a seat?" Smiling at the rosy cheeks and wide blue eyes, she turned and stepped slowly towards the large desk. With her back to Maria, her brow furrowed. She'd learned not to worry unnecessarily – all would be revealed in God's own time – so her frown wasn't for the postulant who'd turned up so unexpectedly. It was aimed at her chair, which seemed miles away, instead of a few yards. It often did these days. Her ageing joints had paid the price of too many long winters in cold, draughty abbeys where, despite an abundance of fireplaces, there was never enough firewood to keep the bitter chill at bay. Finally reaching her chair, she sat down and motioned for Maria to do the same. "Tell me this news, my child."
Maria dropped down heavily on the hard chair and straightened her skirt before gathering her hands together in her lap. Taking a few long, deep breaths, she finally found the courage to look up.
"Take your time, Maria," the Reverend Mother smiled reassuringly. At least, the girl looked well. She hadn't lost any weight, didn't appear tired or gaunt, and her skin was clear and tanned from the summer sun. But clearly, something was troubling her.
"Yes, Mother…" Maria nodded, forcing a smile. Tightening her clasped hands, she took another deep breath and let it go, before deciding she was as ready as she was ever going to be. "For the longest time, all I've ever dreamed about was joining the Abbey," she paused to compose herself. "Please don't be upset with me, Reverend Mother… but I'm afraid I won't be returning…"
"Not returning…?" The Reverend Mother raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, a momentary hint of surprise before her usual calm, serene demeanour returned. "What are your plans, my child?"
Maria could feel her cheeks grow warm. "I plan to stay on at the villa."
"At the von Trapps?" This time, struggling to hide her surprise, the Reverend Mother wondered if she'd heard correctly. Surely, there was some mistake. "But the children will be back at school after the summer holidays," she explained, trying to summon a gentle, even tone. "The Captain will no longer have a need for a governess…"
"Oh, I won't be staying on as his governess…"
"You won't?" The Reverend Mother frowned, giving up trying to hide her confusion.
"Not as his governess, Reverend Mother…" Maria paused to take a breath, "as his wife..."
"His wife…?" Heaven help her! What was this madness?
Maria nodded. Saying it out loud, she wondered if it would ever stop feeling like a dream. She waited for the Reverend Mother to say something, hoping she'd offer up some of her wise words, but instead, all she got was a blank stare. "You see, the Captain has asked me to marry him, and of course, I had to say yes."
"Oh, I see…" the Reverend Mother answered automatically. Captain von Trapp and Maria? Truth be told, she hadn't seen this coming at all. Had to say yes? She hoped that didn't mean there was something untoward behind this rather odd union. Realising she had to say something, she gathered herself together and took a deep breath. "When you were sent to Captain von Trapp's," she finally found her voice, "I asked you to find out what you can expect of yourself, if you could accept a life at the Abbey and the sacrifices that required. I must confess, Maria, I did not expect this… not at all." she narrowed her eyes. "How do the children feel about this news?"
"Oh, Mother, the children have been wonderful…" Maria smiled. "They made me feel welcome from the very…" she stopped suddenly, recalling clammy frogs and spiky pinecones, "well, almost from the start. Each of them is adorable, in their own special way. The eldest, Liesl, well, she's more like a friend than…"
The Reverend Mother smiled as Maria described in detail her summer at the von Trapp villa. Still overflowing with her enthusiasm for life and joy for the simple things, the girl – young woman, she corrected herself – hadn't changed. But clearly something had. Captain von Trapp and Maria. It seemed such an unusual match. But then, she'd spent most of her life learning that God works in mysterious ways. And this union clearly was a mystery. She hoped there wasn't more to it. The Captain was an honourable man, but this was most unexpected. Although, she had to admit, it did solve one of her problems…
"…so, the children have just been wonderful," Maria blushed, realising she'd spoken for far too long, when the Reverend Mother was only wanting a simple answer to her question from five minutes ago.
"Maria, before you were sent to be governess to the von Trapp children, I made some enquiries," the Reverend Mother clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "I believe part of the reason he was having trouble was the time spent away from the children. Wasn't the Captain was courting a Baroness from Vienna?"
"Baroness Schraeder," Maria nodded slowly.
"Yes, that's right, Baroness Schraeder," the Reverend Mother assumed that was the woman in question. "I hope there wasn't any trouble…"
"Oh no, Reverend Mother, there wasn't any trouble. In fact, everything was fine," Maria frowned a little. "Well, that was, until the Whiteheads arrived,"
"The Whiteheads…?"
Maria nodded. "Yes, the children's grandparents came to stay, and Countess Whitehead had learned some details from Baroness Schraeder's past," she explained. "I'd rather not say too much, Reverend Mother," she dropped her voice to a whisper. "But let's just say, the Baroness doesn't particularly like children, and when there are seven, well, it's not really going to work, is it?" She shrugged. "And when she announced, they'd be going to boarding school after the summer holidays, well the Captain had no choice."
"I suppose not." The Reverend Mother answered simply. Is that why the Captain was marrying Maria – because she was a good governess and got along with the children? She narrowed her eyes. "Where is the Captain?"
"Oh, he's waiting in the car," Maria could feel her cheeks growing warm, but wasn't really sure why.
"The car…?" The Reverend Mother raised her brow.
"Sister Sophia wouldn't let him past the gates."
The Reverend Mother tightened her jaw. Sometimes, she wished the sisters could show a little discretion. Still, discretion requires independent thought, and she'd learned years ago, that kind of thing was best left at the front gates. "I'll walk out with you, my child," the Reverend Mother placed her palms on the desk and pushed herself up slowly from the chair, her joints taking time to straighten after being seated behind the desk. "Maria, I need to speak to Captain von Trapp."
"Oh…?" Quickly getting to her feet, Maria wasn't sure she liked the Reverend Mother's tone.
oOo
Shaking her back to the real world, at the sudden jolt of the carriage, she looked up and smiled at the breath-taking scenery. She really should spend more time enjoying the countryside, rather than scribbling in her journal. Already overflowing with ideas from her recent pilgrimage through Turkey, the last thing she needed was more ideas waiting to be translated onto canvas or into an etching.
She sighed, closing it with a satisfying snap on her lap. Searching for the little pouch where she kept an assortment of lead pencils, charcoal and ink, her outstretched fingers finally found it, wedged between the edge of the seat and the carriage wall.
Thankfully, she'd been able to book a whole compartment and didn't have to share the trip with strangers. Or worse, be stuck with someone she vaguely knew, or someone who knew someone she did. There'd be hours of forced chit-chat, pretending they were more than mere strangers. As soon as she'd boarded and found her compartment and closed its sliding door, shutting herself off from the aisle that ran the length of the carriage. Sitting down near the window, she'd deliberately looked out at the platform, not making eye contact with the passengers filing past.
She looked around the small but comfortable compartment, with its two leather bench seats lining the walls from the aisle to the window. Perhaps she shouldn't be so extravagant. After all, the money from last summer's Berlin exhibition wouldn't last forever.
Having just passed through Linz, they were now starting to climb again. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd taken the journey to Salzburg, but it must be getting onto a few years. Unlike many people, she enjoyed train journeys, enjoyed the monotony of the clicking and clacking as they rushed along the tracks.
Staring blankly out the window, she looked beyond the conifers peppered beside the track, not noticing the distant rocky outcrops of the majestic Alps capped in white.
Her mind was already in Salzburg…
Georg had sounded different this time. Relaxed, happy, at peace. Of course, he'd tried to talk her out of making the journey, brushed aside her questions, tried his best to act like it was no big deal. Her little brother was engaged to be married – of course, it was a big deal! Especially, after all that had happened.
She glanced down at the fingers on her right hand, smudged black from the charcoal. Reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief, she tried her best to wipe them clean. Georg had grown up with her being carefree – he'd call it messy and disorganised – and she hoped his fiancé wasn't expecting her to be more like her brother. The woman was going to be bitterly disappointed. Sighing, she hoped she wasn't going to be another one of those uptight socialites.
Honestly, as long as he wasn't marrying Elsa Schraeder, it didn't matter!
She'd met Elsa a few times when Georg was in Vienna. Such a snooty piece of works! Always looking down on her for not wearing the right clothes, for her hair not being perfectly in place, for choosing to work – as she'd put it very impolitely. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself, there was no point wasting energy on the likes of Baroness Schraeder, especially now that Georg had finally seen sense.
Perhaps this new woman was more like Agathe. She sighed. Poor Georg didn't just lose his heart the day he lost that beautiful woman – he'd lost his spirit, his strength and there were times when she'd wondered if he hadn't lost his mind as well.
Elsa Schraeder, for God's sake!
She sighed. In typical Georg fashion, he'd been evasive on the telephone last night. She still had no idea who this woman was, how they'd met, or even how long they'd known each other. It was why she'd insisted on catching the train this morning. She couldn't bear her brother wasting more time on another unsuitable woman, who was more interested in his status and wealth than the children, or indeed him.
Even her gentle teasing hadn't been able to prise any details about this mystery woman. He'd said he didn't want his older sister to be judgemental – what did that mean? She huffed under her breath. Georg accusing her of being judgemental was a bit rich, given how much he'd judged her over the years, no matter how good-natured it might have been.
Passing over the River Vöckla, they must be nearing the pretty town of Vöcklabruck, one of the last stops before arriving in Salzburg. She huffed again. If Georg refused to tell her anything, then she'd just have to spend time with this mystery woman and make up her own mind. She smiled out the window, as the fields rushed by. Hopefully, the woman liked children! Georg's children could be rather full-on, so she hoped the poor thing knew what she was getting into.
It was one of the many puzzling things about his relationship with Elsa Schraeder. The woman was a ruthless social climber, a fair-weather friend from what she'd heard, who'd cut people loose without reason or warning. Underneath the flashy veneer, she didn't have a kind or maternal bone in her body. What on Earth had Georg been thinking…
"Hede…?"
Pulling herself from her thoughts, she turned slowly and frowned at the doorway of her cosy compartment. She'd been so deep in thought, she hadn't noticed the sliding door had been pushed aside. A vaguely familiar face was standing there, with another woman hovering behind her in the aisle.
"Hede, it is you!"
"Hello…" Hede mumbled. Oh for God's sake, it was Baroness Herrmann! The other lady, she wasn't sure – had they met before?
"Well, isn't this a lovely surprise," Baroness Herrmann smiled broadly. "You don't mind, do you?" Without waiting for a response, she took a few more steps into the compartment and perched herself on the bench seat opposite Hede.
"No…of course not," Hede forced the brightest smile she could muster.
"I'm not sure if the two of you have met before," Baroness Herrmann motioned impatiently for her companion to close the door and take a seat in the compartment across from her. "This is Baroness Rheinhardt," she nodded at her friend, who was trying to make herself comfortable in the strained, awkward air of the small compartment. "And this…" she turned towards the window end of the seat, "is Hede."
"Pleased to meet you, Hede," Baroness Rheinhardt smiled, taking a seat at the opposite end of the same long bench where Hede was sitting.
"Actually, we're on our way to Salzburg for the opening of the summer exhibition at the DomQuartier," Baroness Herrmann explained, not because the question had been asked, but as a way of kick-starting the conversation. "It's an Impressionist theme this year. Some rare Cézanne's I believe."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Hede smiled, genuinely excited at the news that one of her favourite artist's works were being exhibited during her stay. She made a mental note to try to catch it while she was in town, not that she said so out loud.
"Hede's a fabulously talented artist herself, aren't you?" Baroness Herrmann gushed to her friend.
"Oh, I'm not that talented," Hede brushed off the over enthusiastic compliment as best she could.
"Nonsense!" Baroness Herrmann was having none of Hede's modesty. "Anyway, who knows, we might run into you there," she added imagining an exhibition of this consequence was quite unusual for a town like Salzburg. "Although, I imagine you'll be spending most of your time sorting out that brother of yours…" her eyes shifted dramatically across to Baroness Rheinhardt. "Georg von Trapp…" she gave her a knowing look.
"Oh my…" Baroness Rheinhardt's hand shot up to cover her mouth. "You're Hede von Trapp?"
Hede smiled. "Yes, I am."
"Well, you're bound to have your hands full," ignoring her friend, Baroness Herrmann continued on in a sympathetic tone.
"Georg might have seven children, but they're not that much of a handful…" Hede began to explain, but was abruptly cut off.
"Hede, I wasn't talking about the children," Baroness Herrmann shook her head in dismay. If only she were. "Oh no… I imagine you'll be trying to make that brother of your's see sense…"
"Georg…?" Hede said her brother's name before she could stop herself. Oh no, what had Georg done?
"Oh, I'm surprised, you haven't heard…"
"Heard what…?" Hede immediately hated herself for asking.
"Why, the reason Elsa Schraeder called off their…" she paused and glanced between the women seated opposite her, "well, let's face it, they were practically engaged, weren't they?" Baroness Herrmann paused, waiting for a response. But the only response was Hede's blank stare. Obviously, the poor thing hadn't heard about her brother's goings-on. Straightening the skirt of her two-piece tweed travelling suit, she debated whether or not she should say anything. After an extended, and rather awkward pause, she decided that the only right and proper thing to do was to arm poor Hede with the facts.
"Well, I don't like to gossip…" Baroness Herrmann continued, lowering her voice. "But it's probably best you know exactly what you're walking into…" she glanced at the compartment's sliding door, making sure it had been tightly closed behind Baroness Rheinhardt.
Hede tightened her grip on the journal still resting on her lap. Ordinarily, she'd walk away from women like these – but of course, here in the train compartment with her only exit blocked, there was no escape. She'd always despised these high society types who thrived on scandal and traded in gossip, delving into people's private lives where they had no business. But left with no other choice, she decided she'd have to stay put and hear what was being said about her brother.
"At first we thought there must be some mistake," Baroness Herrmann began apologetically. "None of it made any sense. But you spoke to Baroness von Kirsch, didn't you, Hilda," she turned to her companion, waiting for a nod that gave the news she was about to deliver some much-needed weight and gravitas.
"I'm afraid that's right, Hede," Baroness Rheinhardt nodded on cue. "Baroness von Kirsch was in Salzburg over the weekend attending the opera. The same night as your brother, so it happens," she explained. "Now, she admits she didn't see it with her own eyes, but she assured me she'd spoken to people who did," she paused to catch her breath. "Oh, Amelia," she looked across the compartment to her friend, "it might be best if you continue… I don't think I can…"
"This is very difficult… such dreadful business," Baroness Herrmann shook her head in distaste. "I don't know how to put this gently, but because we're all women of the world, I think I'll just come out and say it." Pausing for effect, she waited a moment before continuing. "It seems there has been something going on between your brother and…" she lowered her voice to a horrified a whisper, "the children's governess." Confirming the scandalous liaison with a nod, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, adding weight to the news.
"The governess…?" Hede frowned. Georg hadn't said anything about the governess.
"Yes, I know, it comes as a terrible shock," Baroness Herrmann sympathised as warmly as she could. "Word is, this unsavoury business has been going on for most of the summer," she added solemnly. "Right under poor Elsa's nose…" she shook her head once again, this time in disgust.
Hede stared at the woman, not saying a word, trying to maintain her poker face. Georg and the governess…?
"Perhaps one small indiscretion could be overlooked, but all summer long?" Baroness Herrmann continued, "and to think the girl's a nun!"
"A nun…?" Hede squawked in shock before she could stop herself. Did that mean, the governess was a nun?
"I know, have you ever heard anything so outrageous?" Baroness Reinhardt leaned into the conversation.
"I'm sure there must be some mistake…" Hede suggested as politely as she could. A nun? What was Georg thinking?
"I wish there was," Baroness Reinhardt reached out to the woman beside her and placed a well-meaning hand over Hede's. Not one for outward displays of affection, no matter how small, she removed it almost immediately.
"And, unfortunately, that's not the worst of it," Baroness Herrmann joined in. "Well, ladies, let's be honest, it's impossible to sugar-coat these things, especially when the young girl is with child. I mean, have you ever?!" There was much tut-tutting between the two women.
"According to Baroness von Kirsch, she's little more than a child herself," Baroness Reinhardt shook her head in disbelief. "It's worse than that nasty business Baroness von Gerlach got himself involved in last Christmas."
"And to think, Hilda," Baroness Herrmann dropped her voice lower, "we thought, after that, we'd seen it all…"
Despite her shock at the revelations, Hede refused to show it. How much of it was true? According to Georg he'd only proposed to this woman yesterday. Surely, there hadn't been time for the good ladies of Vienna to hear the news, let alone piece together such a scandal. And what on Earth had Georg done at the opera that had everyone talking?
"Little wonder, poor Elsa is in such a state," Baroness Herrmann jumped in, reminding herself it was always appropriate to acknowledge the wounded party, despite one's feelings towards them. And besides, Captain von Trapp's sister was still shaken by the revelations and in no fit state to respond. "Dearest Elsa, it's impossible to hold your head high after that kind of shock and humiliation."
"How will the poor woman ever recover from this?" Baroness Reinhardt's question, aimed at no one in particular, hung in the air of the small compartment. "I'm not sure she can…"
"And to think the girl was a nun, sent by a local abbey…" Baroness Herrmann clicked her tongue in disgust. "Poor Agathe would be turning in her grave."
Hede's grip of the journal tightened, her turning knuckles a tell-tale white. How dare this woman pretend to know what Agathe might be thinking.
"Well, Hede, I think we've taken up more than enough of your time," Baroness Herrmann's tone was suddenly bright and pleasant as she abruptly stood up. Steadying herself against the movement of the carriage, she reached out as elegantly as train travel allowed, bracing herself against the panel of timber and glass that separated the compartment from the aisle. She gave Hede what was intended to be a sympathetic look, but ended up more condescending and pitying than anything. "It's always lovely to run into people you know, especially on a long train journey. It helps pass the time, don't you think?"
Hede nodded mechanically.
"Yes, we were just on our way back from freshening up, when Amelia thought she recognised someone she knew. We'd better get back before our husbands send out a search party," Baroness Rheinhardt laughed at the absurdity of her comment. The chances of their husbands noticing the length of their absence, much less missing them, were remote to say the least. Following her friend's lead, Baroness Rheinhardt and stood up to leave. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Hede."
"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," Hede answered flatly, her smile as forced as her courteous farewell. "Enjoy your stay in Salzburg," she added as Baroness Rheinhardt slid the door to the side and stepped carefully into the aisle-way, trying to time her steps with the sway of the train.
"I do hope your stay isn't too difficult," Baroness Herrmann turned back, offering moral, if somewhat shallow, support.
"Thank you…" Hede mumbled. Stunned, she was still staring at the empty doorway, long after the women had slid the door back into place and swayed out of view along the narrow aisle.
The governess? A nun? An affair? A pregnancy?
Now it made sense why Georg was so evasive on the telephone last night.
What in God's name was she stumbling into?
oOo
"Kurt! Louisa!" Max called out. "Don't wander too far into the woods!"
Two guilty heads turned and nodded. Honestly, he had no idea how Fraulein Maria managed to keep up with Georg's children. He was far too old for this kind of thing. He thought they were supposed to be sad and subdued after their grandparent's departure. The only consolation was, with all this skipping and larking around, they might run out of energy. He sighed, not believing that for a minute. The weight of the wicker picnic basket hanging from his arm was a constant reminder how unlikely that was. Adding more fuel to these children seemed madness.
Perhaps after lunch, while the children picked strawberries, he could stretch out on one of the rugs and enjoy a nap in the sun. Who knows, he might even dream up a way to punish Sascha Petrie for stealing that group out from under his nose. With the handle of the basket already cutting off the circulation at his elbow, he wondered how much further this picnic spot was. It felt like the children had been walking him around in circles. He'd been swapping arms with increasing regularity, and it wasn't helping one bit. It wouldn't be long before his arm lost all feeling.
"Friedrich!"
"Yes, Uncle Max?" Friedrich turned back with a frown, lifting a hand to shade his eyes from the sun.
"Your turn…" Unable to lift it any higher, he motioned at the wicker basket with his head. Giving the boy a grateful smile, he placed it down on the overgrown path and started flexing his fingers. After some of the feeling had been restored, he lifted his hand and wiped his damp brow. It was getting warm under the midday sun. "Are we nearly there?"
"It's not much further, Uncle Max," Friedrich answered with a smile, stooping down to pick up the basket.
"Hmmm… I'm starting to wonder if you children aren't having a lend of your poor Uncle Max," he frowned at them. "We seem to have been walking for miles."
"But it's an enormous patch of strawberries," Liesl explained coming to a stop beside Uncle Max. Realising she was twirling a daisy between her fingers that had half its petals plucked off, she quietly dropped it on the edge of the path, hoping no one had noticed. "We stumbled across it with Fraulein Maria the other week."
"All this for strawberries!" Max huffed, then smiled to himself at the protests of the children. "We could have just asked your father to bring us some back from town."
"But Fraulein Maria says they taste sweeter when they're freshly picked," Brigitta answered, squinting against the sun.
"And they should be ripe now!" Marta answered brightly.
"Alright, alright…" Max muttered, still bending and stretching his arm to get the feeling back. "I hope Fraulein Maria's right, because I'd hate all of this to be a big waste of time."
He watched as the young girls skipped ahead, while Friedrich carried the basket and Liesl continued her daydreaming. Turning around, he wondered where Louisa and Kurt had got themselves, sighing when he saw them appear from behind some shrubs, further back along the track. As his feet started moving, his eyes landed on the picnic basket hanging from Friedrich's arm further ahead on the overgrown track. He hoped Frau Sudholz had prepared a delicious lunch for them.
And hopefully, she'd packed him a nice bottle of wine…
oOo
Resting his bicycle against the imposing fence, he stepped past the gate post and stared through the bars of the gate. Looking up, he guessed they must be eight feet tall. He swallowed hard, remembering the last time he'd ventured onto these grounds. As pretty as she was, she wasn't worth the trouble. And besides, he told himself, he could choose from plenty of pretty girls in town.
Lifting the latch, he let himself through the gate and closed it silently behind him. He should be grateful there weren't any dogs to concern himself with. But who needs dogs when the Captain's snarl and growl was as good as any Alsatian or Doberman. Amused by that thought, he smiled grimly as he crunched across the gravel drive, the bravery and determination of his stride belying his apprehension.
Stepping up to the front door, he reached across and rang the bell. Counting away the seconds – one, two, three… –his heart was beating twice, maybe three times faster. Behind the door, steady footsteps grew louder as they drew near. He'd reached the sixth count by the time the handle started turning. Holding his breath, he prayed it wasn't Captain von Trapp. As the door opened slowly to reveal the butler, his muscles relaxed, gradually releasing their nervous tension.
"Good day, Rolfe."
"Good day," he held back a relieved sigh. Don't show any sign of weakness, not even to an ally. It was a lesson he'd learned early in life, probably in the first years of school, where a small, shy boy was easy prey.
"Can I help you?" Franz asked abruptly, maintaining an unresponsive façade. Determined to preserve the appearance of disinterest, his smile suggested otherwise, hinting at the intrinsic link shared by collaborators.
"I have a telegram," Rolfe announced full of self-importance as he pulled the folded paper from his pocket. If the butler noticed he hadn't been acknowledged, he was too polite to show it. Not that Rolfe cared. Having been a nobody all his life, things had now changed in his favour, and he wasn't going to miss any opportunity to assert his superiority, even if it was to an old butler. Captain von Trapp was a rich and powerful man, not someone to be messed with, but when it came to his butler, he had the upper hand. It wasn't the old man who moved in the right circles, or spoke to people who knew comrades who'd seen the Fuhrer – and both he and the butler knew it.
He'd charmed the right people, had access to the kind of information they needed, and most importantly understood the need for discretion. How many times had he proven himself collecting critical intelligence just by doing his job? And in today's world, information was power. These days, no one scoffed about him being the boy on a bike delivering telegrams. No one, except the arrogant, smug Captain von Trapp.
Franz took the tightly folded paper from the boy. He looked down at the name on the envelope. "I'll see he gets it," he waved the tightly folded yellow paper in his pale, waxy fingers.
"Make sure he does. It's important," Rolfe nodded for emphasis. Of course, he had no idea what was in the telegram, but he wasn't going to admit that, not to the butler. He tipped his cap and turned to leave, stepping down off the front step. Hearing the front door close behind him, he glanced over his shoulder.
"Erhm, any other news…?" Franz leaned back against the front door, his voice barely a whisper.
"Things are moving fast… very fast," Rolfe hissed, stepping closer to the butler. Stopping at the front step, his eyes darted left then right, confirming they were alone. "But of course, I can't say too much…"
Franz nodded. It was as much a dismissal as it was acknowledgement that standing on the front doorstep wasn't the most discreet place. In the midday sun, anyone could see them from an upstairs window, any number of people might have noticed him stepping out the door. He watched the boy – no, young man – walk back up the drive, towards the front gates.
He sighed. The sigh of an old man, tired with the world and tired with his lot in life. It was true, he'd been treated well by the family over many years, but these days that didn't count for anything.
Now, it was time he looked after himself...
oOo
"Normally, I'd say the middle of the day is far too early for one of these, but can I tempt you?" Captain Leitner held up the decanter questioningly.
"I agree, it is far too early…"
"A wonderful brandy, exceptionally smooth," he teased, smiling to himself when his enthusiastic pitch was met with a curt nod. "Of course, everything tastes much sweeter when it's free." Please with himself as his boast was met with a hearty laugh. Pity the Jew who refused to show him the respect he deserved – he'd never pay for anything in that shop again!
"I suppose it's never too early to celebrate."
Nodding at his guest, Leitner turned back to the small side table and poured two generous glasses. He walked across to the large desk and handed one glass across to his visitor, before taking his seat. "A toast…?" he suggested tentatively, pausing out of respect. He may have left the Imperial Navy years ago, but he'd never forgotten the importance of rank. And right now, he was clearly outranked.
"To our future leader, the fearless Fuhrer!" The glasses made a satisfying chink as they came together, before both men took a sip.
"Of course, I hate to point out we haven't quite delivered him the grand prize – yet." Leitner swilled the brandy in his glass – arrogantly, pretentiously – before taking another sip. Swallowing hard, his throat continued to burn from the sting of the liquor. "But I'm glad we're working together again," he raised his glass in respect. "To mutual benefits," he added with a sinister grin.
"Well, you did the right thing reaching out to me."
"Working together was never in question. And, God knows, I owe you for all this," Leitner swept his glass around the opulence of his office in the centre of town. Oh yes, he'd certainly landed on his feet. "When I received the call, I realised it was an opportunity too good to pass up," he took another mouthful of brandy. "For both of us," he nodded knowingly.
"You're an honourable man, Captain Leitner!"
Leitner smiled as the glass across the desk was raised toward him in a gesture of appreciation before it was emptied in one gulp. He hated sharing the credit for anything, but this time, it would be worth it! This would get him the recognition that was not only deserved, but long overdue.
"Now, I'd better leave you to it," picking the hat from the corner of the desk, it was placed firmly on his head. "Don't call me, it's too much of a risk," he added quietly. "Let's meet at the club later, say four." Not waiting for an answer, he turned to leave. Regardless of rank, he'd worked out these military men some time ago. Give them a command, and they followed like pet lambs.
"Sixteen hundred, it is," Captain Leitner confirmed unnecessarily. He hadn't been asked whether the time or place suited, it was taken for granted he'd be there. "And thank you again for the opportunity," he called out.
His visitor prickled – this opportunity was his Plan B. It had little to do with Leitner, who was merely a means to an end. Pausing before reaching the door, he turned with a self-satisfied grin that contradicted the stone-cold eyes. "Don't be mistaken, this is an opportunity for both of us," the veiled threat suggested something unsavoury would be waiting for the ex-naval officer if he made the mistake of venturing off on his own, or worse, made a mess of things.
"Oh, I do understand," Captain Leitner shifted uncomfortably in the chair behind his desk. "Trust me, I do appreciate everything you've done for me, Herr Zeller…"
oOo
Thank you for continuing to read! Special thanks to the guest reviewers, who I can't thank personally.
Of course, you know I don't own TSOM, just having a lend.
"Immerse your soul in love"