Reaching angrily for the door handle, Georg paused, reminding himself this might be John's friend. Pulling open the door, he stared blankly at the man on the doorstep. "Yes?" he enquired with a frown.
"Captain von Trapp…" the man's nicotine-stained fingers fidgeted nervously.
"And who are you?" Georg narrowed his eyes at the middle-aged man with the weather-beaten face. Was this the man enlisted to help them? John hadn't named the friend in his note – no doubt, wanting to avoid trouble in case it was read by someone else. Squaring his shoulders against the dawning day, he guessed he'd just have to navigate this on his own.
"I didn't think you'd recognise me… after all, it has been twenty years," the man's smile didn't shift the frown. "Hermann," he wiped his right hand on his trousers and tentatively offered it to the Captain. "Lieutenant Hermann…"
Georg narrowed his eyes at the man on the doorstep. There had been a Lieutenant Hermann when he'd taken command of the base at Cattaro in the last months of the War. But surely, this man was far too old. "Is that you, Johann…?"
"Yes, it is…" his weary laugh was more of a scoff at the hand life had dealt him. "A little worse for wear, these days, I'm afraid."
"Good Lord! You're the last person I expected to find out here," Georg forced a smile to hide his curiosity. "I'd invite you in, but I'm afraid everyone's still sleeping."
"No, no… I understand, Captain, there's no need to explain," Hermann nodded.
"You're right, it has been years," Georg answered mechanically, while he tried to decipher the motives behind this early morning visit. "What are you up to now?"
"Working on the dock," Hermann answered, motioning somewhere down the road with his head.
"I didn't realise you were in Trieste," Georg couldn't help wondering how a man he'd barely known, who he hadn't spoken to for over twenty years, could possibly know he was in town. Unless, of course, John had told him. "Have you been here long?"
"Been here a few years now," Hermann continued, relieved to see the Captain was thawing a little.
It was obvious to Georg the years hadn't been easy on the man. But then, they hadn't been easy on most men who'd served the Imperial Navy in its final days.
"Anyway…" Hofmann cleared his throat when it became clear the Captain wasn't going to say anything, "I'm here to help."
"Help…?" Georg's suspicion piqued by the offer. "That's very kind of you, but what makes you think I need help?"
"I saw you and the family arrive last night…" he paused, but his answer was met by a blank look. "There's a group of us old navy boys in town," he hurriedly explained, "we often meet for a drink at the place across from the station."
"I didn't realise we stood out so much," Georg responded defensively.
"We were at a table near the window," the man continued, "and well, we noticed your family because there were so few on the street at that hour of the night. One of my friends, who served in the U-boat fleet, recognised you."
"Argh, I see," Georg supposed the explanation was feasible.
"Are all those children yours, Captain?"
"Yes, they are…" Georg's body tightened at the sudden interest in the children. He still had no idea if this was John's friend, but surely if he was a friend, he'd know something of the children. "How did you know where to find me?"
"Well, we just guessed you were staying at your in-laws," the seaman shrugged.
"Lucky for you, you guessed correctly," Georg studied the man closely. Still no mention of being sent by John…
"One of my mates is a supervisor at the Whitehead's plant and mentioned the boss was away," Hermann continued. "So, that's when I thought I might come around and see if you needed anything."
Georg weighed up the man's explanation. It seemed Hermann's only connection to John was a drinking mate who worked at the torpedo factory. Hardly the type of person John would recruit. "It's the middle of the week…" he frowned, "you're not working?"
"I work on a fishing trawler, so we've already been out this morning," Hermann answered quickly. "Not that we have much to show for it," he scoffed. "Same old story at this time of year," he answered the Captain's furrowed brow.
"Well, thank you for stopping by," despite being dismissive, Georg's words were overly polite. "But I don't think we need any…"
"I can help with anything… anything you might need," determined not to leave just yet, he cut off the Captain – something he wouldn't have dared do in the past. But he'd been given his orders, and he was determined to carry them out. And God knows, he needed the extra money.
"Thank you for your concern…" Georg was starting to get annoyed at the man's persistence.
"I can arrange a boat," Hermann cut off the higher-ranked and much-honoured Captain a second time. "Of course, that's if you need a boat…" The only way for the von Trapps to leave Trieste would be across the water.
"A boat…?" Georg frowned. Why was Hermann so convinced he needed a boat? It was a very specific offer in the midst of a supposedly random encounter.
"I can take you and your family wherever you want to go, Captain," Hermann leaned in and smiled knowingly.
"Well, that is very interesting…" Georg mused, giving the impression of thoughtful consideration of the proposal and its possibilities. Apart from everything else, he was wondering how on Earth this lieutenant, who looked like he'd fallen on hard times since the War, could possibly have access to a boat. "What say, you stop by this evening?"
"This evening…?"
"It was a long trip yesterday, and as you seem to already know, we arrived well after dark last night," Georg explained. "We're yet to make plans for tomorrow, but a trip to one of the islands sounds tempting."
"I'd be more than happy to arrange that, sir. After all, it's the least I can do," Hermann smiled, knowing that he'd be paid handsomely for his efforts. "And I'd be honoured to crew for the day."
"I'm not sure that will be necessary," Georg tried to deflect Hermann's over-zealous attempts to help. "Anyway, won't you be working tomorrow?"
"With the catches so small, the boss will be happy if I don't turn up," Hermann shrugged. "One less wage to pay…"
"Well, let's see, shall we?" Georg decided it might be wise to concede a little ground without over-committing.
"Until this evening, Captain," Hermann held out his hand.
"I appreciate it, Lieutenant," Georg shook the man's hand and placed his other hand on Hermann's shoulder. Watching the ex-naval officer turn and walk down the path towards the front gate, the fingers on his left hand started flexing as he stood in the doorway.
Hermann had definitely been sent by someone. But who…?
oOo
Slowly turning the handle, he opened the door. As much as he didn't want to disturb her, he didn't want to draw attention either. He should have gone to his own room, but he needed to see her. He was unsettled, uncertain – and she would help straighten his thoughts.
Closing the door silently behind him, he leaned back against it, catching his breath after coming up the stairs. Agathe had insisted he give up smoking years ago. Heaven knows what his lungs would be like if hadn't…
He glanced across the room, but the empty bed stared back at him. Where had she gone?
His feet started moving, taking him across the room to the doorway that led to the small ensuite. Drawing closer to the door that was slightly ajar, he could hear the water running. He gently pushed on the door. Directly in front of him, she was leaning over the small hand basin. The fingers on his left hand started moving. God, she was beautiful. Leaning against the door jam, his eyes roamed over her. He could stand here watching her for hours…
Turning off the tap, she felt around for the hand towel. He smiled. She wasn't even close! Stepping forward, he took the towel off the rail and placed his other hand around her waist.
"Oh!" startled, she stood up and opened her eyes. Blinking at the mirror, she smiled at his reflection. In that moment, suddenly everything seemed right in the world. It was a few moments before the droplets of water tracking down her forehead and cheeks reminded her where she was, what she was doing. Tearing her eyes from his, she took the towel. Drying her face, she let out a squeal, smiling as he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her hair.
"Well, good morning…" she smiled, but her voice dropped away as she spun around to face him. "I didn't hear you leave…" she raised a playful brow at him.
"There was someone at the door," he answered abruptly.
"Oh, I didn't hear the doorbell," she frowned, wiping her hands on the towel. "Who was it?"
"I'm not sure exactly…" he reached up and tugged at his ear. "It was all rather odd."
Maria hung the towel over the edge of the basin. "Come and tell me all about it," holding onto his arm, she turned and led him through the doorway, settling on the edge of the bed with him.
"What is it John's friend…?" she whispered, still holding onto his arm.
"I'm not sure," he frowned, deep in thought. "I don't think so…"
"Who was it then?"
"Someone I haven't seen for twenty years," he sighed. "He served under me in the navy for a short time."
"The navy…?" Maria frowned at him. "If it wasn't John's friend, how did he know you were here?"
"Hmpf… told me he was having a drink with some friends last night and saw us walking from the station," he explained.
"Did he follow us here?" she shivered at the thought.
"No…" Georg shook his head. "When I asked him, he said one of his drinking mates worked at the Whitehead factory and knew John was away…" he murmured softly.
"He doesn't sound like a close friend of the Whitehead's to me," Maria frowned.
"I agree…" Georg nodded.
"Do you trust him?"
"Hardly!" Georg scoffed. "I've never believed in coincidences, and I'm certainly not going to start now."
"What did he want?"
"Well, that's the really odd thing, he insisted he could help us," Georg reached up and pushed her hair back from her face with his fingers. It was still a little damp. "He offered us a boat but didn't seem to have any specific plan in mind."
"Why would he think you needed a boat?" Maria asked wide-eyed.
"He wouldn't… not unless he'd been told to say that by someone in Salzburg or Berlin," Georg's attention shifted from her tousled hair, returning to her wide blue eyes.
"Salzburg or Berlin…?" Maria's voice sounded choked as her grip tightened on his arm. "I thought we'd left them behind, Georg."
"We have, darling," he patted her hand, hoping to reassure her. "Don't let it worry you."
"How can we not be worried?" she snapped. "They know where we are, and they have people here. Who knows what they might do…"
"He won't be back until tonight," Georg whispered soothingly.
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
"I told him the children were tired from the trip and would be resting today."
"So, what happens tonight?"
"I'm not sure yet…" Georg murmured. "But hopefully, in the meantime, John's friend makes contact, and we've come up with a plan."
"But what if John's friend doesn't get in touch… what if he can't," Maria asked, wringing her hands on her lap. "We don't know who he is, or even where to find him."
"He'll find us," Georg answered with more confidence than he felt. "It's early, there's still plenty of time…"
"Time…?" Maria's voice was rising with panic. "Georg, we need to leave… we're not safe here…" she started looking around the room, suddenly overcome with an overwhelming need to pack. Searching blankly around the room, it suddenly struck her – they came with nothing…
"Maria…" Georg soothed, "at the moment, this is the safest place for us."
"But how can you say that?" She frowned, wondering why he was being so calm. "I'll go wake the children…" she went to stand, but he caught wrist, pulling her gently back down onto the edge of the bed.
"Maria…" he drew out her name in his low baritone. "There's no need to wake the children…"
"No need…?" she looked at him as if he were completely mad.
"Just remember, we know more than this Hermann character," Georg explained, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"How can you be so sure?" she snapped.
"Lieutenant Hermann is no threat. Believe me, he sits at the bottom of someone's pecking order," Georg whispered. "Obviously, they know we're in Trieste, but he's been dragged in as part of some hastily cobbled together plan."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Well, I can't be certain… but I doubt they were keeping an eye on John and Aggie before we arrived," Georg pulled her into an embrace. "I do know one thing, for him to appear on the doorstep at this hour, they're making things up on the run," he pulled back and looked at her. "After all, we didn't know we were coming here until yesterday morning, did we?"
Maria looked up at him and shook her head slowly.
"Coming here yesterday, wasn't part of our plan, so sending Hermann this morning isn't part of their grand plan either," he whispered.
"So, what should we do?" Maria asked.
"Right now, nothing. We just play along," he answered simply. "Hermann will think he's fooled us. He doesn't realise we know he's either been sent by Zeller, or directly by Berlin if they've lost patience with Zeller." He pulled her into a tight embrace.
She sighed against his chest.
"Besides, we can't leave just yet, we need to wait for John's friend," Georg reminded her. "He should make contact today." He pulled back, relieved that the fear and panic had left her blue eyes for the moment. "Hopefully, he arrives before Lieutenant Hermann turns up in the evening," he added.
"I just wish the children didn't have to go through all of this," she looked up at him, biting her lower lip.
"So do I," he nodded. "If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have to, and neither would you."
"Don't blame yourself," Maria's voice was soft and tender, wanting nothing more than to erase his guilt. "You're not responsible for their mad ideas."
"I know, but still…" he shrugged helplessly.
"We're together, Georg, that's the important thing." She reached up and cupped his cheek, her fingers scraping against the dark stubble on his jawline. He was so impossibly handsome…
Closing his eyes, he leaned into her hand. All he needed were her words, her touch, her…
"What on Earth did I do to deserve you, my love?" he murmured, almost to himself.
"Oh, Georg…" she whispered, "I ask myself the same thing about you all the time."
Eyes still closed, he smiled. She was close. So close, he was losing himself in her heady scent, could feel her warm breath tickling his ear. What on Earth was she doing…? Holding himself tight, he was determined to let her explore. Fighting the temptation to open his eyes, he could feel his heartbeat starting to skip… A shiver ran down his spine as her fingertips found the jagged edges of the scar on his chin. She'd confessed to being fascinated by it from the day they met, just as he'd been fascinated by her. Her fingers left his chin. What was she…
Oh, dear Lord…
Shocked, her soft lips brushed his. Gentle, tentative, teasing… And then, again. This time lingering a little longer. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He swallowed hard. His mind was blank. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her, to savour her. But he forced himself to be patient, forced himself to let her take control.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else…" she whispered against his mouth. "I love you, Georg."
"I…" he began to declare his love – tell her how much he loved her, needed her, wanted her – but without warning, her mouth was on his. This time, there was nothing gentle or tentative about her kisses, as she threatened to bring him undone. Hungry, urgent, fierce… His fingers found her hair – raking, grabbing handfuls – just as her kisses deepened, her tongue finding his. Bold, determined, desperate… Her sighs were answered by his growl of approval.
Somehow, she'd found her way onto his lap, her arms around his neck, fingers raking his hair. His hands pinned her in place, her greedy kisses devouring him. Nothing mattered, nothing except her. His heart was racing, his mind was blank. Got to have her, need to have her…
And then suddenly, without warning, her mouth left his. His eyes shot open. Staring wide-eyed at each other, they shared the same heated air – ragged breaths, desperate mouthfuls of air as they tried to fill their lungs. Did he realise how much he loved her? Moments became seconds. Her eyes grew darker, mirroring his own desire. There was only thing that registering in his mind. Her chest, rising and falling against him.
He caught her breast in his fumbling hand. Surprisingly gentle fingers exploring, hesitating. Feeling her arousal come to life in his hand, his movements became bolder. Still, she held his gaze – daring him, willing him on. His touch grew rougher, experienced fingers now demanding, urgent, relentless...
He needed her. They needed each other…
"Maria…" he purred her name, his breathing still laboured. "I love you…" A smile tugged at her plump, swollen lips; exhilaration surging through his veins.
Holding onto her, he rolled their bodies to the side, their fall gently broken by the soft mattress and a creaking of springs. Hearing her squeal of surprise, he let out a low, wicked laugh. Rolling her onto her back, he pressed down, resting his weight on her body. Looking down at his handiwork, he gave her a half-grin.
Nuzzling her neck, his lips nipped and tugged at her jawline, making her squirm beneath him and throw her head back and giggle.
How utterly delightful!
He smiled down at her, his fringe falling over his forehead. Reaching up, she brushed his hair back, the touch of her fingers, electrifying. Leaving a trail on his skin, he wanted more. Wanted to feel all of her, taste every delicious inch of her. Unable to hold back any longer, his lips found hers. Teasing kisses intended to frustrate her didn't last. Intensifying quickly, his kisses suddenly filled with a ferocity and fierceness he couldn't contain. His mind was blank.
Should slow down, should stop…
His kisses were answered by her sighs, stifling his thoughts, drowning them out.
Need to think, need to slow down…
Her hands held him down, his body pressing delightfully against her, encouraging him, arousing him even more.
Oh, Maria…
oOo
"Fraulein…" Georg sighed, placing his cutlery on the edge of the plate. How much longer would she continue ignoring him? "I really wish you'd sit down and eat something," his fingers drummed the table impatiently. When she didn't turn, his treacherous eyes drifted down, lingering on her narrow waist, thoughts shifting dangerously to the large bed in the spare room upstairs. He sighed. Thankfully, good sense had intervened...
Eventually, she turned to him, her face a little flushed, a streak of flour clinging to her cheek. Clearing his throat, he shared a look with her. God, she was beautiful…
"Oh, I will…" she promised, turning hurriedly back to the large frypan on the stove, flipping utensil in hand. With no staff but a larder still stocked with the basics, she'd decided to make crepes – with the children's help, of course. She wasn't sure she had the recipe quite right, but no one seemed to mind. Softly humming to herself, she waited patiently for a few more bubbles to appear on the crepes in the pan before turning them.
She smiled as she caught snippets of the children's chatter between mouthfuls of their third or fourth crepe. Their excitement and laughter had helped ease some of her concerns about their mysterious, early morning visitor. Although, Georg should probably take most of the credit for that! Blushing furiously, she concentrated on the frying pan.
"Father's right, Fraulein Maria," wiping her sticky fingers on a napkin, Liesl was on her feet and walking toward the stove. "It's your turn to sit down."
"Flip these ones now," Maria smiled her thanks at Liesl as she handed over the turning utensil. "The other side will be cooked in a minute or two," she added, taking a seat beside Georg at the long table in the middle of the kitchen.
Pleased to see that she was finally sitting down in the empty chair beside him, Georg busied himself pouring Maria a cup of tea from the pot that had been brewing.
"Thank you," she smiled, glancing sideways and catching the wink of his eye. Only intending to glance in his direction, her eyes lingered, holding his. Moments became seconds… Suddenly aware that she was staring, her eyes dropped, falling on his mouth – hungry, desperate kisses turning her inside out. Feeling the heat in her cheeks and a warmth unfurling in her stomach, she looked away, only to realise he was still holding her teacup – strong, clever hands; searching, demanding, insistent. Clearing her throat, she took the teacup and tried her best to concentrate on one of the children's conversations around the table …
"…you can't make me pick up seaweed!" Brigitta screwed up her face in horror at Louisa. "It's slimy and stinky…"
Maria's sudden, newfound interest in seaweed was interrupted by Liesl walking over to the table, frypan in hand. Placing two of the crepes on her plate, Liesl lifted the other two out of the pan and onto the plate in the middle of the table.
"Does anyone want another one?" Georg asked, reaching for the plate in the middle of the table.
"I have room for one more, Father," Friedrich nodded.
"Kurt…?"
"I couldn't eat another thing," the boy slumped back in his chair with a pained look, rubbing his stomach. "I think I'm going to burst…"
Georg looked around at the girls, but they all answered with a shake of their heads. Picking up his fork, he placed one of the crepes on Friedrich's plate, and the other on Maria's. She went to protest, but he raised a challenging brow to silence her.
"Do you want me to make Uncle Max and Aunt Hede some?" Liesl called out from the stove.
"Why don't we let them make their own?" Maria looked up from her plate of crepes, melting butter and sweet strawberry jam.
Liesl nodded placing the frypan on a cooler part of the stove and found a tea towel to place over the large jug half filled with batter. Returning to her seat at the table, she smiled at her father. Perhaps this morning, he might tell them what they were really doing here. But she wasn't holding out too much hope. Father was acting like everything was completely normal – it was so far from normal – and he seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood…
"Well, good morning, everyone!" Hede called out cheerfully as she appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Good morning, Aunt Hede!" the children chorused as one.
"We had Fraulein Maria's special crepes for breakfast!" Marta announced.
"Is that what smells so delicious?"
"I'm sorry, Hede, there weren't too many options…" Maria apologised with a shrug.
"Oh, no, crepes are one of my favourites!"
Liesl was already on her feet, walking towards the stove. "Can I make you some, Aunt Hede?"
"Thank you, that would be lovely," Hede sat down at an empty seat between Louisa and Brigitta.
"We're off to the beach after breakfast," Brigitta explained to her aunt.
"Oh, that sounds like fun," Hede smiled, as Georg poured a cup of tea and passed it to Friedrich, who passed it to Louisa to place near the children's aunt.
"You can come with us!" Kurt called out.
"Ooh, yes!" Gretl squealed with excitement.
"Say you'll come…" Brigitta begged.
"Alright, everyone!" Georg called out, bringing the children's chorus to an abrupt end. "Let your poor aunt eat her breakfast in peace."
"I don't want to hold you up," Hede looked across to Georg, nodding her thanks. She wasn't used to sharing her breakfasts with such a large crowd. "Perhaps you can go on ahead…" she added, much to the disappointment of the children.
"Yes, what happens if Uncle Max wakes up and finds the house empty?" Maria asked, wiping the sticky jam from the corners of her mouth.
The children nodded reluctantly in agreement.
"Well, I don't see why we can't go to the beach this afternoon," Georg with a smile, resting his hand on Maria's thigh. His heart soared as the children's faces brightened.
oOo
As soon as Georg opened the front door, a wave of sea air rushed into the foyer, washing over everyone. Pushing through the doorway, the children gathered in the front yard with their sand buckets and the football they'd brought with them from home. Breakfast, warm sunshine and the promise of the beach had helped them forget about everything else. Even Maria had to admit, she was feeling better. Georg was right. They didn't have to agree to anything with this ex-navy man, and John's friend still had all day to make an appearance. Assuming of course, they weren't the same person – which Georg seemed certain they weren't.
Trailing the children, she had to admit, she was just as excited. Ushering the children along the footpath, she tried to distract them while Georg busied himself making sure the front door was locked behind them. The children would only worry if they saw him being so cautious.
"Can you hear the sea, Fraulein Maria?"Louisa called out over her shoulder, trying to catch the first glimpse of the beach through the large trees and thick bushes in the front garden.
Maria called back that she could, the sound as unusual as the odd smell that filled the air.
She glanced over her shoulder, smiling as Georg quickened his pace and caught up with them. Reaching the front gate first, Friedrich threw the ball, catching Kurt off guard. Rolling his eyes at his brother's spilt catch, Friedrich unlatched the large iron gate and waited for his sisters to pass through and his brother to retrieve the ball.
"Don't get too far ahead," Georg called out above the children's excitement. They turned and nodded.
Guiding Maria through the gate, he latched it behind them. Walking along the footpath to a short crossing, he realised Maria had stopped walking. He turned, questioningly.
"It's so beautiful…" she whispered, staring out across the street, shielding her eyes from the sun. Now that their view wasn't interrupted by the Whitehead's front garden, all she could see was white sand and blue. She'd never seen so much blue…
Georg smiled, his heart bursting with pride, as if he'd been solely responsible for the water stretching out as far as the eye could see. Pleased to see her so impressed by his second home, he loved that he could finally share it with her.
"It goes on forever…" she murmured, struggling to find the point where the blue of the water met the cloudless sky. It all seemed to merge somewhere in the hazy distance.
"Hurry up, Father!" Kurt called out.
They turned to see the children had reached the crossing and were waiting for them up ahead.
"Come on," Georg smiled widely, his hair ruffling in the sea breeze.
Crossing the street, they walked a short distance along the footpath to a gap in the wall, where steps led down to the sandy beach. Once on the sand, the children kicked off their shoes. At this early hour, the beach was deserted, so they left them in a pile near the steps.
"You have to take yours off too, Fraulein Maria," Liesl called out over the sound of the breaking waves and hopeful gulls, drawn by the possibility of food that always comes with a crowd of people.
Maria looked at Georg. He gave her a smile and a nod.
"Go on," he encouraged. "There's nothing quite like sand between the toes."
While the children went on ahead, she sat on the bottom step, unlaced her boots and rolled down her stocking socks. Looking up, she could see the older children had reached where the waves rolled onto the sand, petering out into long, jagged lines of foam.
Taking the hand Georg offered, Maria stood up, and turned to him with a smile.
"Off you go!" Georg nodded towards the water, more than happy to stand and watch.
Letting go of his hand, she walked cautiously onto the sand, giggling at the feel of it between her toes. Georg was right! It felt like nothing else. It was so fine and soft, squeaking with every step. As she approached the water, her eyes were occasionally drawn to a shell. Brigitta's words came back to her, and she made a point to steer clear of the brown, leathery clumps that she guessed must be washed up seaweed.
Georg narrowed his eyes against the sun reflecting off the water, watching her walk across the sand to catch up to the children. Above the sound of breaking waves, and the odd gull in the distance, he could hear her laughter. God, she was beautiful! She reached Marta and Gretl and they took a hand each.
As soon as Maria's feet touched the wet sand, damp from the breaking waves, she stopped. She watched in amazement as the power of the tide dragged the waves away from the shore. Looking down at her toes, she could feel the water being sucked from the sand beneath her. And then, just as she was wondering how far her feet would sink in the soft, squelchy sand, the next wave would break, lapping around her toes, swelling the sand beneath her feet.
Georg watched from a distance as his little girls jumped from one foot to the other while the breaking waves raced toward them. He could tell by the way she threw back her head, Maria was laughing. Smiling, she turned and waved at him. God, he loved her! He laughed, too.
For a moment, he forgot all about the troubles at home, the drama and uncertainty that had followed them here. For a moment, he could almost believe the world was at peace and they were a family enjoying a holiday by the beach before returning home at the end of the summer holidays.
But they weren't. And it would be a long time before they returned home.
All too soon, he could feel the overwhelming sadness and the gnawing guilt of not knowing what the coming days or weeks held for his family…
oOo
"So, just to be clear, our man on the ground has reported back?" Holding the receiver of the telephone to his ear, Walther looked across the room, watching Elsa stare dejectedly out the window. He hated seeing her like this. This wonderful woman didn't deserve this kind of humiliation. Damn von Trapp! He had to be held accountable for his actions.
"Contact has been made…" This time, he spoke a little louder, smiling to himself as Elsa spun around to face him. So, she had been paying attention to him!
"We can expect further contact this afternoon," he nodded encouragingly at Elsa. Finally, some good news after yesterday's debacle. "I trust, this time, surveillance is up to the task," he rolled his eyes in Elsa's direction.
Normally, he wouldn't talk to Zeller so boldly, but Elsa had begged him to place the call to Salzburg. And watching her, as she now clung to his every word, gave him newfound confidence and purpose. "I see… of course, I understand…" he sighed, "but we can't have a repeat performance, can we, Herr Zeller?"
Elsa wrapped her arms around her waist and turned back to the window. She smiled at the thought of Zeller trying to weasel his way out of this unholy mess. But there was one positive from all of this. It would make him more compliant and accommodating. And it didn't hurt that Walther was giving him a hard time. A much-deserved hard time.
She sighed. Georg and his unruly children should be waking up in Bremerhaven this morning, far away from that damned governess. And she should be packing, readying herself for a reunion with Georg. God knows, everyone was entitled to a little indiscretion. And with that bloody nun back at the convent where she belonged, there wouldn't be any distractions. Well, none except her! And she would prove to be the perfect distraction.
This time, she had all kinds of tricks and games in store for Georg. She managed a small smile, but it quickly slipped away.
Sighing again, she reminded herself of the cruelty of the situation.
God certainly had a twisted sense of humour…
When Georg told her he'd left the children in the care of a governess from the abbey, she'd imagined an elderly woman in a habit. Instead, he'd been sent an untamed woman with no boundaries, no class, and even less clue. Defying all good sense and reason – and all of her best efforts – the girl had stolen Georg's attention.
It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair!
She didn't do anything to deserve any of this. She shouldn't be the one nursing a broken heart and bruised reputation. That nun had snatched Georg right out from under her nose. It was humiliating! Still unsure when she'd be able to face the public, she balled her hands into fists, telling herself the gossip would blow over eventually. She just needed to be patient. Before lone, a carefully worded hint of innuendo and intrigue would appear in the newspapers, an indiscretion would be discussed in hushed tones, another sordid scandal would surface, and…
"Elsa, darling…"
Jumping a little, she turned at the sound of her name and tightened at the unexpected hand on her shoulder.
"Elsa, try not to worry too much," Walther's voice was low and calm. "The net is closing in, and the news will only get better."
"I hope you're right…" Lord knows, she needed some good news.
"Zeller's contact in Trieste is one of Georg's old navy friends, so who better to trust in a strange town, than a familiar face?"
"As long as Georg doesn't catch on and give him the slip," Elsa huffed.
"It won't happen a second time," he ran his hand soothingly up and down her arm, trying to shift the torment in her eyes. He resisted taking her in his arms – oh, what he'd give to hold her, to love her...
"I hope not…" Elsa sighed. "I don't think I can face another disappointment."
"You won't have to," he replied confidently. "Georg's invited this fellow back tonight, apparently to make plans for a boat trip tomorrow," emboldened, Walther took her hand. "You'll see. Once he's on the boat, our man can take him anywhere we want."
"Anywhere…?" Elsa brightened a little.
"Anywhere! By the end of the day, we'll have forgotten all about yesterday's disappointment," Walther announced emphatically. "I promise…" he added, perhaps a little too optimistically.
"I hope you're right…"
"Trust me, Elsa…" his words drifted off as he pulled her into his arms and held her tight, perhaps a little tighter than their friendship would deem appropriate.
oOo
Kurt ran ahead, pushing open the iron gate. Standing to the side, holding it open, he waited for everyone to pass through, laughing as his father brought up the rear and ruffled his hair.
"Off you go," Georg smiled at his youngest son's infectious laughter. Turning, he made sure the latch was closed behind them.
Louisa had reached the front door first and tried to turn the handle. But it was locked. Looking back questioningly at her father, he held up the front door key. Friedrich came back, taking it from his father, then raced up to the front step to unlock the door. Georg watched on as all the children piled inside. After running around on the beach and wading in the shallow rock pools, no doubt they'd forgotten all about breakfast and were now looking forward to lunch. But he didn't care. He'd give anything to see their smiles and hear their laughter.
"I don't know where they get their energy from," Maria sighed as Georg caught up to her on the path. They'd spent the better part of an hour at the beach, and she was ready for a nap.
"They'll come to a screeching halt soon enough," Georg laughed. "They always…"
"Captain von Trapp…?"
Georg and Maria froze for a moment then turned in the direction of the strange voice.
"What do you think you're doing?" Georg asked gruffly as a man emerged from the shadows of the garden. Instinctively, he moved his body in front of Maria.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you…" the man whispered in Italian, holding both hands up in front of him as a sign he didn't mean any harm.
"Who are you?" Georg snapped back in fluent Italian.
"I'm Gianni… Gianni Mansera…" he held out his hand.
"What are you doing lurking in the bushes?" Georg asked, eying the man suspiciously.
"I rang the doorbell earlier, but there was no answer, so I thought I'd wait," he answered a little nervously.
Georg stared back, unmoved. At least, Hede had followed his instructions and not opened the door.
"I apologise, I didn't mean to startle you," the stranger continued.
"You still haven't explained why you're here," Georg bristled, squaring his shoulders.
"I'm John's friend," he explained, still holding out his right hand. "And I assume you are Captain von Trapp."
Georg didn't move. How could he be sure this wasn't someone else sent by Zeller or Berlin?
"I spoke to John yesterday morning before they sailed," Gianni continued, still holding out his hand. "He told me you'd be arriving with the family from Salzburg," he looked over the Captain's shoulder and smiled at the woman standing behind him.
"Forgive me for being so cautious," Georg finally took the man's hand and gave it a firm shake. "I am Georg, and this is Maria," he stepped aside and placed a hand on Maria's arm before turning back to the dark Italian.
"Pleased to meet you both," Gianni nodded respectfully. "Although, I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances."
"Georg…" Maria whispered from behind, "I might go after the children… they'll be wondering where we are."
Georg nodded, giving her a grateful smile. It looked like most of this conversation would be in Italian, anyway. "I shouldn't be long…" he called after her. Watching her, his eyes staying on her until the front door closed.
"Why don't we take a seat?" Georg motioned for the man to follow him across the garden to a pair of benches placed on the edges of the lawn in a shady corner. At least, if they were being watched, they'd be less conspicuous than standing out here than near the front door.
"Did John tell you about our plan?" Gianni asked in a low voice when they'd both settled on separate benches.
"There wasn't a lot of time to discuss plans," Georg studied the man closely, still weighing up how trustworthy he might be. "We couldn't be sure our conversations weren't being monitored, especially over the telephone lines," he explained. "Why don't you tell me what you and John discussed."
The man nodded, appreciating and fully expecting the Captain's cautious approach. "Earlier in the week, John asked me to arrange two yachts," Gianni began. "One sailed yesterday, with him and the Countess onboard, the other is to set sail on Friday," he explained. "Originally, you were due to arrive either tomorrow or Friday. But then, very early yesterday morning, John was in contact, telling me your plans had changed."
Georg nodded. So far, everything the man said either agreed with what he'd discussed with John or tallied with the note he'd found in the study.
"Anyway…" Gianni continued when he realised the Captain wasn't going to say anything, "I tried to bring forward the second yacht, but I couldn't."
It was Wednesday, so that would mean they'd have to stay in Trieste another forty-eight hours. Two more days of trying to avoid Zeller and Berlin. Georg wondered if that were possible. Especially, when he still was still deciding if he could trust this Italian.
"How do you and John know each other?" Georg asked.
"My company supplies steel to his plant, has done for years," Gianni smiled to himself at how cautious the Captain was being. John had warned him that would be the case. Not that he could blame the man. In a similar position, he wasn't sure he could place the fate of his wife and children in the hands of a complete stranger, given what they'd been through, so far. "John actually bailed out my company, back in the late twenties when the bank failed," Gianni continued. "He's a good man…" he added.
"One of the best men I know," Georg nodded in agreement.
"I realise, I'm asking a lot for you to trust me, especially when we've only just met," Gianni conceded, "but I'm eternally indebted to John." He looked at the Captain long and hard. "You have my word, I will make sure you and your family are safe."
"Thank you, Gianni," Georg nodded his thanks. "What you've told me so far, ties with what John had explained."
"Well, it should," Gianni frowned a little.
"I apologise for being overly cautious…" Georg sighed, deciding he might as well tell him about the visit from Hermann. "We had a visit from someone early this morning, so I can't help but be suspicious."
"I can't say I blame you," Gianni gave the Captain a grim smile. "There are a lot of shady characters around – I know it's to be expected for a port town – but these days, more so than usual." He paused, shaking his head at what the world had become. "If you don't mind me asking, what did this man want?"
"Offered to help," Georg ran his fingers along his jawline, making a mental note that he needed a shave. "Told me he could arrange a boat."
"A boat…?" Gianni frowned. "How did he know you were in town, and why would he assume you'd need a…" his words drifted off as the realisation hit him.
"Exactly!" Georg leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, and clasping his hands. "In my mind, there's no other explanation…"
"If they know you're in Trieste, and have established you're staying at John's, do you think it's a good idea to stay here?"
"No." Georg answered simply. "But we don't have too many options."
"Mmmm, I see what you mean," Gianni agreed, his eyes following a wren dancing across the lawn.
"It's far from ideal," Georg sat up straight. "But even if there was somewhere else, they already have us under surveillance," he sighed. "Wherever we go, they'll just follow."
"You know…" Gianni turned to Georg. "There is another place, one that's much safer…"
"What do you have in mind?"
"The Bishop's residence," Gianni answered in a hushed tone.
"The Bishop's residence…?" Georg looked at the Italian as if he'd gone completely mad.
"Bishop Santin will take you in for a few nights, I'm sure," Gianni stood up and started pacing, as the idea took hold.
"Don't we need to ask him first?" Georg stared up at John's friend.
"No, he won't mind," Gianni explained with a wave of his hand.
"We can hardly just turn up at the man's front door," Georg frowned.
"He's always taking people in," Gianni explained. "Especially, during these times," he continued. "At the moment, he's got some families from Croatia and Slovenia, and of course, there's always a Jewish family or two."
"Well, I doubt he has room for eleven more," Georg muttered.
"If there isn't room in his home, there's always room at the convent or they've even used some of the school rooms in the past," Gianni hoped he was able to convince the Captain, but he didn't seem to want to budge. He'd seen his type before. A proud man, reluctant to admit to himself he needed help, let alone strangers. "You said yourself, Berlin knows the exact location of your family," he decided to try a different tack. "None of you will be safe here," he glanced around at the perimeter of the block. "We both know, you're being watched as we speak."
Georg sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The man was right. As long as they stayed here, whoever sent Hermann would know their every move. "So…" he finally spoke up, "what do you suggest we do?"
"Every afternoon at three, there's Mass at San Giusto's," Gianni sat back down, relieved the Captain had finally conceded there was no other choice. "Bring whatever you need to take with you, but not too much. You don't want to draw attention," he dropped his voice, "you want them to think you're simply off to Mass."
"What happens when they follow us?" Georg asked. "I'm sure the Bishop doesn't need these types hanging around."
"Let them come," Gianni smiled, the plan now taking hold. "The crowds are big, so big, they'll lose you."
"Are you sure?"
"We've done this type of thing before, many times in fact," Gianni reassured the Captain. "I know I'm asking a lot for you to trust me," his voice was soft and kind, "but John placed his faith in me to look after you."
"You're right, Gianni," Georg looked at him with a steely gaze. "John chose you for a reason, and I need to trust that reason."
oOo
Thank you everyone for continuing to read and review. Apologies for this chapter taking a little longer than expected to post – life took over, once again.
Bishop Santin was indeed the bishop of Trieste throughout the Second World War and for many years after. Somehow navigating the restrictions of the Mussolini regime and the wave of nationalism at the time, he offered safe haven for refugees displaced from Croatia and Slovenia. He was also credited with taking in many Jews fleeing from persecution.
I don't own TSOM, just having a lend.
"Immerse your soul in love"