It had taken longer than she'd hoped to settle the children and Hede in the sitting room, just as it had taken every ounce of effort to hide her impatience. Thankfully, with Hede's surprise arrival and Herr Detweiler on hand to provide his usual brand of entertainment, it was easy to explain away their father's sudden disappearance to the study. Still, she could see it had unsettled the children, especially the older ones. The poor things! It had only been a handful of weeks, so of course, they still bore the scars from those years after their mother passed away.

Glancing down at the plate in her hand, she found a smile. She hadn't been able to escape the sitting room until she'd promised Marta she'd take a small plate of afternoon tea and a glass of lemonade to the study. After everything that had happened before she'd arrived, she was often left speechless at the love and caring the children showed their father.

Rushing across the foyer and turning into the hallway towards the study, her smile had already fallen away. Judging by Georg's face after reading the telegram, he'd need something stronger than lemonade.

What on Earth was in that telegram?

Whatever it was, Georg's reaction told her it was bad. Was it news from John? It couldn't be – the Whitehead's had only left that morning. Was it something to do with his investments? He'd mentioned just yesterday how London's stock market was one more bad headline away from free-fall. Not that she cared how much money they did or didn't have. She thought they'd both agreed, as long as they have each other and the children, it didn't matter what was in the bank. Did it have something to do with his meeting in town? He'd been uneasy about it all morning, and horribly distracted on the ride home.

Juggling his afternoon tea, she stopped outside the study and took a long, deep breath before turning the door handle. Wishing she knew what to expect, she held her breath and pushed the door open with a foot. Her eyes fell on his back. It must be bad. Usually, she'd find him sitting behind his desk, all business-like and in control. This was very, very bad. He was standing, facing the fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back. The fingers on one hand tapped impatiently against the palm on the other, keeping double time to the ticking clock. She stood in the doorway, waiting for him to turn. But he didn't. So deep in thought, he hadn't even heard her.

Stepping through the door, she closed it gently behind her with the same foot. He hadn't turned around. Placing the glass of lemonade and plate on the edge of the desk, she walked across the room to him. Still, he didn't turn. Stopping beside him, she reached out and gently placed her hand on his arm. Jumping a little under her touch, he turned his head to her.

One quick look at his face, and her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Something was obviously wrong, terribly wrong. She was too scared to ask. Tightening her grip on his arm, steadying herself for what was to come, she was already dreading whatever it was. They looked at each other for what seemed an eternity, the clock ticking away the seconds. But still, she was too scared to ask...

"It's Berlin…" he couldn't get any more words out.

"Berlin?"

He turned his body to hers and pulled her roughly towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could, his cheek rested against her hair. Neither of them said anything, they simply stared at each other. Closing his eyes, he breathed in. Her… He just needed her.

"What does Berlin want?" Maria wavered over the question, dreading his answer, already knowing it would be him. She felt him sigh in her arms, her heart already starting to ache.

Loosening his hold, he pulled back and stared into her wide blue eyes. God, she was beautiful, even with tears welling in those blue eyes. Reaching up, he brushed the back of fingers against her cheek, smiling as she closed her eyes at his touch. He couldn't imagine their world without her, she was as much a part of the family as any of them. But would she find it in her heart to forgive him? He wasn't sure he could forgive himself. His children were being punished because of him. God knows, these past years, he'd already caused them enough pain…

"Tell me, Georg…" she murmured, encouraging him to trust her. Whatever it was they could face it together.

"Berlin have requested I report to Bremerhaven," he answered bitterly.

"But I don't understand…" she frowned at him. The dread loosened its grip a little. "They've asked before, and you've turned them down?"

"I wish it were that simple…" he sighed

"But it is," she told him with a confidence she didn't feel.

"They don't just want me to report there by the end of the week…" He sighed. How could he tell her? He watched the frown return, the look of confusion in her eyes. "They're obviously testing my allegiance…" the word stuck in his throat, barely making it past the lump of emotion. "This time, they've requested I bring the children…"

"The children…?" Her world started tumbling, lurching away from her. None of this makes any sense…

He nodded sadly. "To visit their new schools…"

"Schools? In Bremerhaven…" Barely hearing her own words, her mind was in free fall. She felt sick, sick with fear. Can't think, can't imagine here without him, let alone the children…

He nodded slowly. It was easier than trying to find the words, let alone try to put them together. He reached for her, pulling her into another tight embrace. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, he closed his eyes at the feel of her fingers in his hair. "I can't do it…" he murmured. "The children, growing up among Nazis… going to Nazi schools…" He could feel the burn of tears. He closed his eyes tighter, fighting them back. He wouldn't cry. He had to be strong for Maria, strong for the family. He refused to cry…

"It's alright, Georg…" Maria soothed. "We might not have an answer right this minute, but we'll think of something… shhhh… I'm here…"

He tightened his hold on her, the touch of her fingers moving slowly on his scalp – back, then forth, stopping, back and forth – the only thing holding his emotions in check.

"I'm here, Georg…" she whispered against his ear.

Her warm breath sent a shiver down his spine. Did she realise how much he needed her? He doubted it. God knows, he barely understood it himself…

"Whatever happens, I'll be with you," she whispered. "Whether it's here or Bremerhaven…"

His eyes shot open and he pushed back from her. She didn't understand… He frowned, looking at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"What is it, Georg?" The look of pain sweeping across his face was starting to frighten her. "Tell me… what else?"

"You weren't mentioned in the telegram…"

"Why would I be, Georg?" Maria shrugged. "Despite all the gossip, apart from Herr Detweiler, Hede and the children, no one else knows about us…"

"We have to be there by the end of the week," Georg whispered. "The telegram said no staff…"

"Oh…" Maria's face dropped. "Well…" her face started to lift as her mind raced, "school is still weeks away, you'll only be gone a few days…"

"But if we go to Bremerhaven," Georg whispered his hollow look now replaced with tenderness, "we won't be coming home…"

"What…?" Maria choked. Can't breathe, can't think, can't… "No! Not that…" The tears were spilling over her lashes, leaving hot tracks down her red cheeks. His arms were around her, holding her up, holding her against him, protecting her, keeping her safe.

This can't be happening…

oOo

"I hope I haven't kept you too long…"

Looking up from his newspaper, Zeller glared over the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Why did he have so much riding on a man who couldn't even keep a simple appointment? "Not at all, Anders," he gave the man a thin smile. He wouldn't waste a minute of his time with this fool if it wasn't for his connection to von Trapp.

Zeller took off his reading glasses off the end of his nose and placed them in the case in the inside of his pocket. "Take a seat…" his words drifted off as he searched around for that pretty waitress with blonde hair and blue eyes. A most perfect example of the Aryan race if he'd ever seen one.

"No, nothing for me," Leitner dropped into the armchair facing Zeller, and placed his hat on the small round table between them. "I had more than enough over lunch…" he settled back and undid the strained buttons on his jacket. Too many lunches and too much drink. "I'd forgotten how much von Trapp can put away, and God knows Anna will kill me if I go home drunk."

"Mmmm…" Zeller nodded, trying his best to feign interest in the Leitner's domestic situation, but he really couldn't care less. The woman probably realised what she'd married years ago. He caught the eye of the pretty young waitress and signalled for another gin and tonic, before reluctantly turning his attention back to Leitner. "A successful lunch?"

"That's not quite how I'd put it…"

"For God's sake, Anders, you didn't make a mess of it, did you?" Zeller snapped impatiently.

"Oh, quite the opposite…" Leitner gave Zeller a self-satisfied smile. "I would say it was a very successful lunch… extremely successful in fact."

"Good man!" Zeller held up his near-empty glass in toast and emptied it in one gulp. Thank Christ for that! "I had every confidence in you."

"Well, thank you," Leitner's sarcastic response was accompanied by a curt nod. He hated being patronised by a man like Zeller, a man who'd only ever served a cause from behind the safety of a desk. He'd already decided he wasn't going to tell Zeller everything. He was certain von Trapp would hand over the drawings, but he was equally certain Zeller would take all the credit. "In the end, it was like taking candy from a child."

"Really…?" Zeller had his doubts. He'd already learned Leitner was prone to exaggeration, especially when it came to himself. "You're telling me, von Trapp really has had an epiphany?"

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes…" Leitner's words drifted off distracted by the approaching waitress balancing Zeller's drink on a silver tray.

"Thank you…" Zeller's tone and demeanour softened as the girl placed his drink on the table. "Esther isn't it…?" If he noticed the waitress giving him an awkward, uncomfortable smile, he didn't let on. "Such a pretty name," he murmured, his eyes following her as she retreated hastily across the room, silver tray under her arm. He took a sip, before turning back to the matter at hand. "So, tell me, Anders…" he rested the glass on the arm of the leather chair, "what caused von Trapp's change of heart?"

"Siding with the British and French was a step too far."

"But isn't his father-in-law English?" Zeller frowned.

"John Whitehead's parents were," Leitner shifted uncomfortably in the armchair at the mention of John Whitehead. He looked away, shifting from the glare of Zeller's beady eyes. The wood panelled room was filled with leather armchairs grouped in circles around small tables. At this hour of the afternoon, there was only one other group of men, their hushed discussion in the far corner little more than soft background noise. But in an hour's time, as more men gathered to do business over a drink, the room would be full. "I don't think the old man was even born in England," he turned back to Zeller, "somewhere in Italy or Croatia."

"Mmmm… I had heard something along those lines." Of course, he already knew that, having done his homework on the Whiteheads as part of his background on von Trapp.

"John's ties with England are non-existent," Leitner continued, "they never even visit."

"Really…" Despite his rising status, Zeller had never moved in the same circles as von Trapp or the Whiteheads. Of course, all of that was about to change… But, until then, he was forced to make use of idiots like Leitner. Being part of the same social set for generations, there was little they didn't know when it came to the history and machinations amongst the pompous establishment.

"Anyway, we're meeting again in a few days…" Leitner added.

"Again…?" Zeller's curiosity was pricked. "Whatever for?"

"Call it insurance," Leitner gave Zeller a thin smile.

"Insurance…?" Perhaps he'd underestimated Leitner.

"Given his recent history, I think it's best we make sure his change of heart is genuine, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Zeller agreed impatiently. Of course, he had his own way of testing von Trapp's loyalty, but he wasn't going to share any of that with Leitner. The man was a useful idiot, not a confidante. Pushing back the sleeves of his shirt and jacket with a long, slender finger, he glanced down at his wristwatch. Quarter to five.

He smiled at Leitner and took another mouthful of gin and tonic. A silent toast to himself, for being such a brilliant strategist. While he sat here enjoying a drink at the club, von Trapp would no doubt be at home, absorbing the contents of the telegram. This would be the ultimate test. Deciding he'd wasted enough of his time with Leitner, he uncrossed his legs. He had far more important matters to attend to. "Well, I'd better be off to my next appointment." There was no harm in creating the impression he was moving between important business meetings. Well, it was a meeting of sorts…

Taking a final mouthful of gin, his thoughts were already on the shapely lady waiting for him in an apartment just down the road. Soft, luscious flesh and clever hands…

"…anything else you need?"

Zeller barely caught the end of Leitner's desperate effort to be more useful than he was. "No that will be all for now, thank you, Anders," he cleared his throat, trying to keep his body's instinctive reactions in check. Argh, there really was no substitute for the experience of a mature woman.

He watched Leitner stand up and button his jacket. Demanding or submissive, flirtatious or shy – how will he find her today? Of course, never knowing was part of the thrill. "Your efforts won't go unnoticed," he added as Leitner reached down to pick his hat up from the table.

"Thank you, I do appreciate reward for effort," Leitner smiled, thinking of the bonus he'd receive when he delivered the blueprints. Of course, there was still time to decide whether he needed Zeller for that. "Later…" he nodded before turning to leave.

Zeller nodded back, watching Leitner walk across the room. But long before the ex-naval commander disappeared out of sight, his mind was already on the large poster bed with its plump pillows, silk sheets and the skilled, soft mouth waiting for him…

oOo

Maria felt like she was sleepwalking. Obviously, she wasn't. The sun was still well above the horizon, and they hadn't yet had dinner, but the hour had passed by in a blur. Surrounded by all the excitement and commotion, she felt invisible, like someone looking down as everything unfolded below in slow motion. It felt like an out of body experience. She just hoped she'd smiled at the right moments, answered the children's questions as sensibly as she could, and didn't attract too much attention from Hede.

She'd composed herself as best she could in the study and returned to the sitting room to find Hede surrounded by the children and Herr Detweiler balancing a saucer of cook's petite fours on his knee. After Marta had explained it was his second plateful, she'd somehow managed to scold him good-naturedly.

But her mind, like a prisoner intent on scaling the gaol walls, kept escaping back to Georg. When she was leaving the study, he'd moved to his desk, reassuring her he'd have a solution by dinner time. Worried he was just trying to lift her spirits, she kept telling herself, if anyone could mastermind a way out of this mess, it was Georg. Their futures couldn't be in more capable hands. She must have told herself that a hundred times since sitting on the settee and pulling a tired Gretl onto her knee.

After the children had finally run out of questions for their Aunt Hede, they talked over each other describing their strawberry-picking picnic and adventures with Uncle Max, followed by their singing lesson. She promised the children they'd stop by the kitchen to see what wonderful dessert Frau Sudholz had dreamed up with their fresh strawberries. Of course, they were keen to see if any of them had guessed correctly.

The children had asked if they could go to the ballroom before dinner and try out Uncle Max's new song with the puppets. But she'd suggested poor Uncle Max needed a rest and perhaps they could spend time with the puppets after dinner instead. Thankfully, they all seemed happy with that compromise. None more so than Herr Detweiler.

She looked down and smiled at Gretl. The poor thing had fallen asleep in her arms. How could she ever say goodbye to the children? It would leave such a hole in her heart. That's if anything was left of her heart after Georg left for Germany. She tightened her jaw, feeling the ball of emotions sitting at the base of her throat. Think happy thoughts, DON'T CRY, smile at Kurt's antics, DON'T CRY, swallow, DON'T CRY, breathe, DON'T CRY, not here, not in front of the children…

"…Fraulein Maria?"

"I'm sorry…" breathe, smile, DON'T CRY, "what was that, Louisa?"

"Before dinner, can we show Aunty Hede the new goldfish in the pond?"

"Oh, I think we're going to have trouble fitting that in before dinner, don't you?"

"Maybe…" Louisa answered reluctantly. "How long are you staying, Aunty Hede?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" Friedrich rolled his eyes at his sister.

"It's hard to hear anything when you're yelling over the top of everyone," Louisa pulled a face at her brother, before turning to her aunt.

"We need to check with your father…" Hede smiled and turned to Maria. "A few days perhaps?"

"Oh, you'll have to stay longer than that!" Liesl turned to Fraulein Maria. "Fraulein Maria, you have to tell Father to let Aunt Hede stay until the end of the holidays…"

Maria forced a smile. The end of the holidays? That seemed like a century away. DON'T CRY, don't choke on your tears, breathe, just breathe… "Hede, you know you're welcome to stay as long as you like." Forget the end of the holidays, would Georg and the children be here at the end of the week? It might just be her, Hede and Herr Detweiler. School in Germany…? DON'T CRY, breathe… "But there's plenty of time to work that out…" she forced a smile between Hede and Liesl.

Liesl nodded at Fraulein Maria, but her look lingered. She'd been unusually quiet – subdued, flat, not her usual self. It looked like a light had gone out somewhere behind her blue eyes. They'd lost their brightness. Was it something to do with that telegram Father received? He didn't look happy. He'd just walked off without a word, and they hadn't seen him since. She thought she was the only one who'd noticed, but Fraulein Maria had gone to check on Father as soon as she could. She'd been gone for ages, and now, she looked sad. No matter how much she tried to pretend everything was alright, she just looked terribly sad.

Her breath caught in her throat…

Was it Gromi and Poppy?

Had something happened to them? But they'd only left this morning, surely, there hadn't been time for them to send a telegram. Was it Father and Fraulein Maria? It couldn't be. Father looked at Fraulein Maria the same way he'd looked at Mamma. The way he hadn't looked at Baroness Schraeder. She glanced back at Fraulein Maria. She looked a million miles away. She'd just have to ask Fraulein Maria as soon as she got the chance…

"Oh no, thank you, young lady…"

Maria forced a smile at Brigitta holding out the plate of small pastries to Herr Detweiler.

"As it is, I won't have room for dinner…"

"But Uncle Max, after all our hard work, you have to have dessert!" Kurt looked horrified at the thought of someone skipping dinner, let alone dessert.

"Which is why I should excuse myself, before I'm tempted to have another plateful of these delightful pastries," Max stood up and placed his empty teacup on the side table. "I'll see you all at dinner," he nodded and disappeared out into the foyer.

Gretl shifted on her lap, making Maria turn from the empty doorway back to Hede and the children. She had to stop thinking this could be one of the last dinners they might have at home. Would the children ever go strawberry picking in the woods again? Would they ever get a chance to put on a puppet show? Would they be together next week…

"…can we go to the kitchen, Fraulein Maria?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"And then can we show Aunty Hede the swans?" Louisa asked.

"Why don't we stop by the kitchen on the way to showing Hede to her room?" What would happen to Mozart and the other orphan swans? Breathe, DON'T CRY – you've been doing so well – just breathe…. She forced a smile as the children cheered and jumped up from the settees or where they'd flopped on the floor. Even little Gretl seemed to find a new burst of energy as she jumped off Maria's lap to join her brothers and sisters.

Standing, she watched the children lead Hede out into the foyer. She tightened her jaw, biting back against the tears. Breathe, DON'T CRY, keep breathing, just because you're alone doesn't mean you can cry, breathe, DON'T CRY, you can't cry…

oOo

"Alright, out with it!"

Georg's head shot up from the desk to find Max closing the door behind him.

"Good God, man, you look worse than usual…" Max muttered as he walked across and dropped into one of the visitor's chairs.

Georg didn't speak, he simply tossed the telegram across the desk towards his friend.

Max ran his eyes over the first line. "So what?" He looked up at Georg. "Berlin's asked you to go to Bremerhaven twice already," he shrugged. "What makes this invitation any worse…" he waved the telegram in his hand.

"Keep reading…" Georg mumbled.

Max dropped his eyes to the piece of paper. "What…?" He looked up at Georg. "The bastards mean business this time, don't they?"

oOo

"Well… after the day I've had, it is nice to hear your voice again," he purred.

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies…" she answered coyly, pleased to hear the smile in his voice from so far away.

"I only say that to the ladies with beauty and brains."

"Keep talking like that, darling, and I might just believe you…" she trailed off into a laugh designed to tease.

Smiling at the sound of her laughter down the telephone line, he joined in. Still in a good mood after his little detour on the way home, he was hopeful this would be the beginning of more substantial arrangements with the woman from Vienna. Although, he had to keep his wits about him. This woman was good – damn good – and she'd eat him alive if she had to.

"So, what do I owe the pleasure of tonight's call?" She'd discovered long ago, the words to use and the emphasis needed to make them work in her favour.

"I wanted to thank you." Truth was, he wanted more...

"Oh…?" the word drifted into a throaty sigh, filled with wonder and possibility. "You know there really is no need…" Pull them in, push them away.

"Well, it hardly seems fair…" he continued, undeterred. Her telephone call had been timely, and her information had been more than useful. "It only seems fair to return the favour…"

"Mmmm…" she murmured, picturing the effect she was having on the man almost two hundred miles away. "A favour…" she toyed with the word as much as she was toying with him, "that could be fun…"

"I was wondering, is there anything I can help you with…?" His question hung in the air expectantly. He rarely received calls from these kinds of women. Women who were often too good for him, who'd always been too good for him. And here he was, like a stupid schoolboy. His mouth was dry, and his heart was pumping the blood around his body harder, faster.

"Hmmm… well, it's funny you ask…" she answered playfully in a husky voice perfected over the years. If she strained her ears, she knew she'd hear his breathing growing heavier over the line. Good, he was right where she needed him to be – in the palm of her hand! "Now, you know I don't like to ask for favours, especially when that gorgeous wife of yours is such a dear friend…" They'd only met once at some frightful charity thing.

"No, no… there's no need to concern yourself with Ingrid," he reassured, determined not to let his wife get in the way of a blossoming arrangement. "She adores you and would want me help any way I can…" Here he was yet again, hanging expectantly on her response.

"Well, only if you're sure…" she answered hesitantly, drawing out the suspense like a cat playing with a mouse. She sighed, a breathless sigh – was there any other? She knew it would have the desired effect. "You know, it is rather lonely now…" Straining her ears, she smiled at the sound of his breathing coming harder and faster. "I was wondering… only if you have time, of course, and promise to tell me if it's too much trouble…" her words had a deliberate breathlessness to them, "but perhaps next time you're in town, we could meet for a little dinner…"

"Dinner…?" The word sounded strained as the vein pulsed dangerously in his neck. "Hmmm, that sounds rather… nice." His mind was racing a million miles an hour.

"I was thinking you might come to my place… it is a little out of the way, but that does make it rather discreet…"

His mind was racing, clutching at the myriad possibilities and loose ends. Travel, excuses, when, hotels – would that even be necessary? Ingrid wouldn't need to know, of course. How far out of the way? Does it even matter?

"Well, as luck has it," he forced himself to sound nonchalant despite jumping out of his skin with anticipation, "I need to be in town for business at the end of the week…" Once again, his words petered out expectantly. It was a complete lie, of course! Holding his breath, he prayed she'd jump at the chance.

"Oh, so soon!" She gasped with excitement. "As luck would have it, my week is free!" Of course, it was, she thought bitterly, she wasn't supposed to be back in Vienna for weeks.

"Why don't I call when I have firm details?"

"Oh…" she sighed seductively down the line, "promise you will!"

"You have my word!"

"Well, until then, auf wiedersehen, darling…" She smiled at his mumbled farewell. Returning the receiver to its cradle, she looked at it in disbelief. It was never any different, it never got any harder! She should stop being surprised at how ridiculously easy it was to have these men dancing around her little finger. She laughed out loud. By the time he arrived in Vienna, he'd be bristling with expectation.

But seriously, the man was delusional!

In any other time or place, she wouldn't be caught dead with a weasel like Zeller.

As if Elsa Schraeder would give him a second of her time unless she was forced to!

Oh well, she supposed entertaining the fool for an evening was the least she could do. After all, she had to repay the favour… But then, that was the most delightful thing! He thought she'd done him a favour, when in fact, it was the other way around.

Despite everything, it looked like Georg's brats were off to boarding school after all! See how they enjoy that! Especially, the eldest girl who didn't know her place. Taking a sip of champagne, she placed the flute on the table beside her and picked up the latest edition of Vogue. Turning the cover, she paused, gazing across the sitting room. She'd have to thank Hannah's brother for giving her Zeller's contact details.

Reaching for her champagne, she wondered if Georg's eldest might even learn to respect her elders. She wouldn't hold her breath.

She smiled – a self-satisfied, triumphant smile. There was one thing even better than teaching those unruly urchins a lesson.

By the end of the week, that interfering nun would also feel the pain of losing Georg…

oOo

Oh my, what just happened?!

I thought we'd heard the last from Elsa, but somehow, she's broken free from the attic in Vienna! Oh well, there goes my invite to the Baroness Fan Club's Christmas party this year…

Thank you for continuing to read, and special thanks to the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally.

I don't own TSOM, just having a lend.

"Immerse your soul in love"