Disclaimers, acknowledgements, notes, warnings, etc: Please see Chapter 01.
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The Sound of Music Chronicles
Part I
The Twelfth Governess
Chapter 11
Before the storm
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"After every storm the sun will smile; for every problem there is a solution, and the soul's indefeasible duty is to be of good cheer."
William R. Alger
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"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky."
Rabindranath Tagore
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A few moments earlier…
His ship was sailing smoothly at last. There was no sign of a storm looming on the horizon - none whatsoever. Everything was running perfectly on schedule, which meant that governess number twelve was on her way to Aigen, due to arrive in precisely fifteen minutes. If Captain Georg von Trapp was aboard one of his ships, this would be the perfect time to find a quiet corner, prop his legs up and allow himself the luxury of simply enjoying the seascape.
In the privacy of his study, the only thing missing was the ocean.
"Well, I think I can remedy that soon enough," were the pleasant thoughts of the almost entirely relaxed sea captain, as he anticipated the long postponed trip he and Elsa had been planning for a while: to sail the Dalmatian coast, all the way down to Greece. If governess number twelve – the nun – proved to be half as successful as he hoped, the vacation would soon become a reality. He should, in fact, call Venice and ask them to prepare the sailboat.
He would not tell Elsa about it so soon, of course. Not until he was sure everything would be well with the children. Instead, he had just informed her on the phone that he would leave for Vienna the next day, as early as possible. Elsa's voice coming from the other end of the line, distorted as it was, sounded like music to his ears.
"You must stay in my house this time, darling. It pains me to think of you all alone and miserable in some big bed in a little hotel room."
"I'm terribly sorry, Elsa, I already made my usual reservations at the Sacher," he said apologetically.
"Then at least tell me you reserved the Presidential Suite this time. You know – the one with the big bed…" her voice became husky, and he smiled.
He honestly did not know how long he would still be able to keep Elsa at arm's length. Worse, he also did not know how much longer he would be able to resist. Tempting as her offer was, he was a man of principles. His intentions with Elsa were the honorable possible, he meant to marry her – that entirely excluded the possibility of keeping her as his mistress. Not anymore.
"Elsa…" he warned gently. "We discussed this, darling. You know why we can´t…"
"Yes, I know! Sometimes I do wish you would stop being such a gentleman all the time. It is adorable, you know, but so frustrating." Her sigh on the phone was audible. "If we could only find a way."
"There is no way, darling," he said softly. "
"Oh well, you can't blame this girl for trying, can you?" She sighed again. "You know, it would help if I knew that you are as frustrated as I am, that we are in this together," she hinted.
If he were completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that he wasn´t completely sure, but he could not risk hurting her feelings by admitting it to her. He cared for Elsa too much. She was obviously talking about sexual frustration, but he still had no way of knowing if it was indeed Elsa he craved for, if it was just any woman´s body, or something else that he would never have again, something that had died with Agathe… Such thoughts were distracting; he avoided them as much as possible. What was important to consider was that Elsa was the perfect match for him. They were compatible in every way he could imagine: intellectually, physically, culturally… That he did not love her as he had loved his wife could not be considered an important detail under the circumstances. He would never love another woman like he had love Agathe, not even Elsa von Schraeder. It was… impossible.
"Georg? Are you still there?"
"Yes. I am sorry. I lost myself for a moment." He had not realized he had been silent for too long. Closing his eyes, he massaged his temples, feeling what could be the beginning of a terrible headache.
"As long as you were losing yourself with me, I think I can forgive you."
"Of course it was you, who else?" he teased.
"Mmmm – I think that if we were only a little creative… What is the name of that lovely little place in Ireland – or is it in Scotland – where young lovers used to run away to get married in the old days?"
"Scotland - if you are talking about Gretna Green," he said, amusedly. "How charming!"
"I´m sorry, this must be appalling to you, but you know how atrocious my Geography is…" Her sigh was audible from his end of the line. "No, don´t worry, it is a terrible idea. A little too… cliché, don´t you think? We are not exactly a pair of desperate young lovers; I think we can do better than that."
"Elsa," he began. It was probably a good moment his idea for a trip down the Adriatic, but she would not stop chatting.
"What if we found ourselves stranded in some isolated place? Accidentally, of course, but completely on purpose."
"Accidentally on purpose?" He chuckled. "How on earth do you think we would accomplish that, my wicked Baroness?"
"You are the clever strategist, darling, not me. I am sure you´ll think of something."
He was still laughing, as he heard a knock on the door. "Hold on a moment would you please, darling?" And then he called, covering the receiver with his hand. "Yes?
"What is it now?" he asked impatiently, as the butler walked in since he had specifically asked not to be interrupted.
"Eh – the… person from the convent, Captain. Your… uh – governess, I presume." Georg raised his eyebrows, unsure what to think of Franz's strange hesitation.
He nodded towards the door. "Thank you, Franz." Turning his attention back to the phone, he continued. "I'm sorry darling, I must hang up now."
"Don't tell me – the children again! What are they up to now?"
"Actually, they are surprisingly well behaved this morning. No, it was not the children this time." He took a deep breath. "The new governess is here."
"Well, finally!"
After a few more words, he ended the call. Rising from his desk, he tapped the breast pocket of his jacket, as if to make sure that his boatswain whistle was there – he would certainly need it to summon the children. Opening a drawer, he picked another whistle – this one was to be given to the governess, to be used according to his instructions.
He left the study, marching to meet his new employee, mentally ready to perform the same routine for the twelfth time now. The fact that this one was coming from a convent would ensure that discipline and decorum would be maintained at all times. After all, that's what nuns were known for.
The sight that greeted him when he reached the front hall was the first indication that, this time, things would not exactly go as planned. His keen eyes scanned every detail – the room was empty. There was an old, worn out carpet bag and a guitar case, also in a bad state, lying on the floor, next to the far staircase. Other than that, there was no sign of the new governess.
"What the devil…" he muttered. Hadn't Franz told the woman to wait for him? Where was she?
For a brief second, he thought that perhaps the children had really outdone themselves this time, and scared away the governess even before he had a chance to meet her. Highly possible, since they knew that he was just waiting for her arrival in order to be able to leave for Vienna. He was about to call the butler to inquire about the woman, when he noticed something else – a very important detail which had escaped him before: all the doors that led to the main hall were open. Including the door to the ballroom.
His fists clenched.
The instructions to all employees of the house and to the children were clear and very specific. Those particular doors were to be kept closed at all times, no exceptions. The reason was simple – the ballroom had been Agathe´s room, his wife's favorite place in the house. She used to spend more time there than anywhere else. It was to the ballroom that she took the children to play when the weather was bad outside. It was in the ballroom where he had taught her the steps of the Ländler, where he had begun to teach Liesl how to waltz. Agathe had been in the ballroom with the children when she felt the first symptoms of the disease that would end up taking her life. And even on that day, it had been a room full of joy, laughter and music.
It was odd, but he had little trouble sleeping in the same room, in the same bed they had shared after she died – he supposed it was because she had not occupied it for about a month before it happened, having been taken to the hospital in a vain attempt to regain her health. The ballroom, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
Georg knew, realistically, that he would have to deal with the place again one day, and with some other closed rooms in the house, especially now that he was seriously considering another marriage. Certainly Elsa would not be able to live in Salzburg for more than a month without throwing a couple of lavish parties. But choosing the moment for opening those doors was his decision and not anyone else's. Nun or not, he would not tolerate some noisy female in his ballroom without his permission.
Letting out a low curse from his wild early days at sea – something he dared to do only when he was alone – he walked briskly towards the ballroom, his hands still clenched into fists. He peered inside.
There was a female dancing in his ballroom. No, not quite a woman yet, just a mere slip of a girl, dowdy and gangly. If he were not so angry at the invasion of his privacy, he would probably have laughed at the ridiculous way in which she performed first a curtsy, then a bow. Her clothes were equally ludicrous – her antiquated gray dress was probably already out of fashion five years ago, and it looked like it was a couple of sizes larger than it should have been. If there was anything remotely resembling a female figure underneath that curious contraption, it hid it completely – but then it occurred him that, as a future nun, that might be exactly what she wanted. The burlap jacket she wore was just as unflattering, and, contrary to the dress, it appeared to be a size too small. She wore an old leather hat of an unspeakable color, which covered most of her head – all he could see was that she had unusually short hair.
No, he would not allow himself to be amused. This frumpy would-be-nun invaded his privacy as soon as she was invited to his house. Now she was using Agathe´s beloved ballroom as her own little, ridiculous, vaudeville stage. It was almost… sacrilegious. The audacity of it! He had started the day in a surprisingly good mood, feeling lighter than he had felt in years, and now this… creature had completely ruined it all.
Yes, he could still be a little bit optimistic. He could understand Franz hesitation when the butler announced the governess´s arrival. There was actually a minimal chance that this was not governess number twelve. Perhaps the woman had fallen ill and the Mother Abbess sent a replacement for a day or two. Well he would find out soon enough, he planned to ring the Abbey as soon as possible.
Governess or not, her attitude was unforgivable, and if there was something that Captain von Trapp excelled at was dealing with rebellious subordinates. Before he did anything else, he should make his displeasure known.
He took hold of both doors to the ballroom and opened them with full force, determined to give the future nun the fright of her life. The sound resonated all over the silent house.
The woman – or girl – straightened immediately. The light fell squarely on her face. The sight was unexpected. She was young, yes – perhaps too young, which would partly explain her unforgivable fault. But then he had to remind himself that the Reverend Mother had told him that she was not even a novice, she was still a mere postulant at the Abbey. She was not exactly a conventional beauty, although there was no logical reason why he should expect one. A slight blush tinted her cheeks, due to the circumstances in which he had surprised her. Big, clear blue eyes stared openly at him, with a mixture of curiosity, anticipation and… total amazement.
He had been trained to read people on sight. It was a matter of necessity in order to become a good commanding officer, but also a matter of survival. During the war, he had been able to get out of a number of difficult situations simply because he was able to tell if someone was being untruthful. In a mere second, the nun – no, the postulant, he corrected immediately – showed herself to him like an open book. It was lucky for her that she was destined to a chaste religious life, because hers could be her downfall. Not because of its beauty, but because it was so expressive. It was brutally honest and wholesome. Every little nuance of feeling, every emotion was there, for the keen observer to read.
"This one will be a dismal liar," he concluded. At least that aspect suited him perfectly, for she would never be able to fool him – or the children. Now that could be a problem, on the other hand.
As for the rest…
Patting down her dress to straighten any imaginary wrinkles, she ran past him, giving him another fearful glance. When she did that, the same particular perfume reached his nostrils – lavender. It was only when he followed her with his gaze, back to the front room, that he noticed the black boots and stockings, and he knew it immediately:
The Reverend Mother had sent him the black sheep of Nonnberg!
"There must have been a mistake."
The mischievous glint he had seen in the eyes of the Reverend Mother had not been a product of his imagination after all. The woman had indeed been up to no good.
Why would she do something like that to him? The woman was so saintly, so holy that he simply refused to be angry at her without knowing her reasons first, which was, of course, impossible under the circumstances. She was supposed to send to him a postulant, a future nun to look after his children. Someone for whom discipline was the breath of life so that it would be only natural for her to impose some of it to his children. Someone who was balanced and wise enough to succeed where he had failed – being a parent to his children. What he had envisioned for his children was certainly not the awkward misfit pirouetting in his ballroom, who apparently lacked the most basic social skills, after all. He needed someone who would be firm with the children, someone who would guide them in their social upbringing, not someone who kissed floors and slid down banisters.
He must talk to the Reverend Mother to clear the matter of the… black sheep.
At once.
He knew that the elder woman was clever, and if there was a reason behind this appalling miscommunication, he wanted to know about it.
Now.
But first things first…
In the quietness of her own study, the Reverend Mother of Nonnberg Abbey stared at the telephone, waiting for it to ring.
"Reverend Mother?"
"Yes, Sister Margaretta?"
"I am awfully sorry to interrupt you, but we have a small problem in the chapel that needs your attention."
"I will be there in a moment, as soon as I finish my phone call." Sister Margaretta looked at her funnily. "There is no need to look at me like that. I haven´t lost my mind yet. This telephone will ring in the next ten minutes."
"Maria?" was all Sister Margaretta said.
"Who else?" the Mother Abbess replied, resigned.
"Oh Reverend Mother, if you don´t mind me voicing my opinion… I know you have faith in your doubts, but sending Maria to that man - Captain von Trapp… Are you sure it was a risk worth taking?"
The Reverend Mother sighed.
"I don´t know yet, but if that telephone rings in the next five minutes, I think we will be off to a good start, Sister Margaretta. In his present state of mind, Captain von Trapp is as predictable as Maria is unpredictable. I am expecting there will be quite a shock when those two meet, not only for the Captain, but for our rebellious postulant as well. I´ll be honest, I do worry for both of them. I just sent him exactly the opposite of what he asked for and that child has little or no idea of what to expect. Knowing them both, I am quite sure that he will not be silent, and neither will her. I am predicting that he will either send her back to us immediately, or he will ring me… If he dismisses her, there will be nothing I can do, but if he calls…"
The telephone rang. Sister Margaretta´s jaw dropped.
"Captain von Trapp?" the Mother Abbess said, as soon as she picked up the receiver with a serene smile on her face. She signaled for the Mistress of Novices to leave the room. "I was expecting your call..."
A/N: (1) Rodgers & Hammerstein, I Have Confidence.