Disclaimers, acknowledgements, notes, warnings, etc: Please see Chapter 01.
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The Sound of Music Chronicles
Part I
The Twelfth Governess
Chapter 27
Telegrams
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On a windswept hill
by a billowing sea,
my destiny sits
and waits for me.
Robert Brault
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A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.
Jean de La Fontaine
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Maria did not recall being so exhausted before in her life. She did not recall being so pleased, or proud of herself either.
"Mission accomplished, Captain!" she exclaimed, performing a mock salute just before throwing herself in bed with a sigh of sheer contentment.
Only that the Captain had not known exactly what her mission had been – certainly not one he had ordered her to accomplish in the first place. Most probably, the task in his mind would have to do with sending her back to Nonnberg as soon as he returned from Vienna – whenever that happened. The children kept telling her, again and again, that it was highly possible, they reminded her whenever she suggested that they did something they feared he would not agree. What they did not know was that it was something she never needed to fear, since she had not exactly wanted to leave the Abbey in the first place. Yes, she would not fear the high and mighty Captain von Trapp´s reaction to the changes around the house, although she would be undoubtedly upset. A quick dismissal would mean she would be less than what the Reverend Mother expected of her, but she would find a way to make up for it in her mentor´s eyes… beginning with insisting upon taking her final vows as soon as possible and ending with becoming the most devoted nun who ever lived within Nonnberg´s walls. After all, it wasn´t Maria´s fault that Captain von Trapp was such an impossible man to deal with. Yes, the Mother Abbess would understand…
She did a quick mental calculation, as she recalled the events since her arrival:
Three weeks.
Dozens of pranks, tricks and practical jokes during the first week, until her unruly sailors finally conceded that they had been defeated.
One hopelessly ruined dress.
One ruined pair of stockings.
One scraped knee.
A bump in her forehead.
Sore fingers, because of too much sewing and guitar playing.
Several sleepless nights.
One broken telephone and one very sick butler.
One distrusting sixteen year old with a questionable choice for a boy friend.
Three weeks until the children had managed to successfully sing their first Lied on tune…
And…
Seven sets of play clothes made with the old curtains that were in her room, not to mention another set, made from old colorful summer tablecloths that were going to be discarded.
It was fun to remember all that, and Maria made a mental note to write down the curious list in her journal later.
A knock on the door interrupted her reveries, and told her that she wouldn't have much time to rest. It was Frau Schmidt.
"Dear heavens, you do look tired!" the woman exclaimed, as soon as she saw the dark circles under Maria's eyes.
"Tired but happy," Maria sighed, smiling. "Did you hear the children singing this afternoon?"
"Oh yes, I did – they sounded wonderful. For a few moments it was almost like going back to the good old times," she sighed.
"Is there anything I could do for you, Frau Schmidt?"
"Yes, but looking at you know I almost regret coming here," the housekeeper said. "I had a little favor to ask of you, but it looks like you need your rest first."
Maria didn't feel it in her heart to refuse. While most of the other servants either solemnly ignored her or openly questioned her methods, sometimes quite harshly. Frau Schmidt, on the other hand, next to Frau Poppmeier had proved to be her biggest ally in the von Trapp household. They often shook their heads in disbelief whenever Maria suggested something that seemed outlandish to them, but most of the times they could not hide their amusement.
"There is no need to worry, Frau Schmidt. I´m just fine, I am used to harder work than this. You can ask me anything - you've been a great help to me these first few weeks, and I can't thank you enough. So please, tell me, how can I help you?"
The elderly housekeeper still hesitated.
"But my dear, tomorrow you'll have a day to yourself, and I would advise you to use it to rest. You'll get sick if you keep working so hard."
"Oh no no, I'm never sick," Maria assured her with a little dismissive gesture.
"Very well. I was wondering if you were planning to go to town tomorrow."
"As a matter of fact I am. I wanted to go to Nonnberg and visit my friends. I haven´t seen anybody since the day I left to come here."
"I understand. Would you mind going a little bit out of your way and stopping at the Post Office and telegraphing the Captain? I am sure that it will take only a few minutes of your time."
"The Captain? Why?"
"With Franz still sick, as you know, and the phone still not working, he hasn't had any news for about a week now. He must be concerned. I would do it myself, but my daughter is coming to visit me, and I have been spending so little time with her. You know, she is expecting."
"Really? How wonderful!"
"Yes. It will be my first grandchild."
"Well, Frau Schmidt, you be with your daughter then. I can easily manage that telegram. What should I say?"
Frau Schmidt shrugged.
"Just a few words, nothing that worries him, of course," she said, meaningfully.
"Well, that is easy. There is really nothing happening here that should worry him, is there?"
"You think?" She threw Maria one of her dubious glances. "Well, never mind that, he will see the changes with his own eyes when he returns, there is no need to bother him now, is there? Just to assure him that the children are well and that… his ship is running smoothly."
Well, the children were indeed well – better than ever, in fact. The ship was indeed running smoothly, but not exactly following the course set by its Captain.
When the time came, however, she knew exactly what to say.
"Have you been with Baron Eberfeld lately, Georg?" asked Max.
"Not since I´ve been back to Vienna. I´m afraid I´ve been… otherwise occupied," the Captain replied, with a little wink to Elsa.
"Then you did not hear about good news. His daughter is to be married next fall. I believe we met the dashing young groom the last time we were in their house, he is an Army officer."
"Oh yes, I remember that evening."
"How could he not?" intervened Elsa. "It was the night that Baroness Eberfeld finally gave up her attempts to throw poor Pauline in Georg´s unwilling arms."
The Captain chuckled.
"That is unfair, Elsa. Pauline Eberfeld is a lovely young woman and an adequate pianist. I can only wish her and her future husband happiness. As for Baron and Baroness Eberfeld… I can´t blame them, they were only being parents doing what they thought was best for their only daughter."
"At least they were doing a far better job than I would ever do without Agathe," he thought grimly.
Elsa, however, was not so easily convinced.
"I wonder if you will still say the same when it is Elizabeth´s turn," she taunted.
"Liesl?" Max laughed. "He won´t have to. Pauline Eberfeld is beautiful, but Elizabeth von Trapp is a stunning young woman. Our Captain von Trapp will have a hard time chasing the hordes of suitors away."
Georg wasn´t exactly amused. Liesl had suddenly grown up before his very eyes, and lately she started to worry him. Max was right of course, she was not only beautiful she was a striking young woman. And she was his daughter, and Agathe´s. He had finally realized Liesl was not a child anymore, and he wasn´t quite sure how to deal with it. It was so much easier just to treat her like one of the young ones, but he was clever enough to realize he could not do that anymore, not without damaging his daughter´s future life.
"Yes – those useless fencing lessons we had to suffer through in the Naval Academy will finally put to good use," he retorted acidly to Max´s comments.
"Good Lord, Georg. Sometimes you are so terribly… medieval," Elsa scowled him gently. He merely smiled at her. "First you hire a nun to be the poor girl´s governess, and now this – challenging your daughter´s prospective husband for a duel."
"Trust me, darling, it is not the prospective husbands I worry about," he said grimly. "More like telegram deliverers with questionable political beliefs…" he thought, but decided to keep the words to himself, at least until he dealt with the problem without making the relationship with his eldest daughter worse than it already was. It was something he would have to do soon, preferably just after he returned to Aigen – that is after he took care of dismissing number twelve first.
"Excuse me, Captain von Trapp," an employer of the Sacher Hotel said politely, approaching the table. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt you, but there is a telegram for you, sir."
"Thank you," he said.
"Sacher Hotel – Vienna – the next day…
To: Capt. Georg Ritter von Trapp – Hotel Sacher – Vienna
From: Frl. Maria Heller – Aigen-bei-Salzburg
Telephone dead. Children having marvelous time. No thunderstorms."
He had to read the telegram several times to convince himself that it was true. Next, he was rendered absolutely speechless.
He did not know whether to laugh or yell in anger when he read the handful of words. Not for the first time he thought that if the gods of fate were playing tricks on him, they were indeed very cunning and cruel. A small, insignificant piece of paper symbolizing everything that was keeping him from sleeping peacefully at night: Liesl and her telegram boy, not to mention a governess who happened to be a future nun.
His face immediately became a mask, and he crumbled the piece of paper in his hands.
"Speaking of the devil," Max began, only to be silenced by a furious look.
"Max, behave, or else we will never invite you to dinner again," Elsa said, feigning offense.
"Oh, you will always invite me, darling, you can´t live without me," he replied, amusedly. "You two need me desperately, remember?"
"No, we don´t, at least not as desperately as you think. As a chaperon you are practically useless, you should know that. I am sure Georg and I can find someone else who…" She stopped when she noticed Georg´s stony face.
"What is it, darling?" asked Elsa, a bit alarmed, touching his wrist.
"There is only one way out of this storm," he thought. "It begins now."
"This is not fair," she wanted to scream.
She was now holding his hand, but it felt cold. His shoulders were unbearably tense. Once again she was desperate to know what had the power to reduce him to such as state, because if she knew that, her protective instincts would take over. She would have to do something about it.
It all happened so quickly.
Just before the conversation had shifted to the subject of Pauline Eberfeld´s upcoming wedding, Max and Georg were delighting her with tales of the few days they had spent in the Navy together. Georg had been telling her about the day he had been tempted to have Max Detweiler court-martialed. His mood had been as light as she had ever seen. For days he had not mentioned the children, or his problems with the help in the Aigen villa. He was again her Georg, the man she had rescued from the depths of despair. The man she hoped to be married to, and now there would be nothing that could possibly stop her. Gone were the inexplicable periods of silence and the sudden outbursts. The gentleman was back, the impeccably charming aristocrat, with his sarcastic humor at his best.
Until that telegram arrived…
Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat, throwing a sideways glance at Max, who was also puzzled.
"Yes, Georg, what is it now? Not Berlin again, is it?" he asked.
"No, it is not Berlin this time. It is Aigen," Georg replied ominously.
Aigen!
He must be joking!
For some reason, Elsa was not relieved. If there was something that would cause that kind of reaction in the Captain were the threats hanging over his beloved Austria. Yet, at that moment, she would rather have Georg dealing with bad news about his politics than with whatever was happening in the idyllic Salzburg countryside.
"Are the children all right?" Max asked.
"Oh, the children are just fine. They are…" he paused and uncrumbled the piece of paper, reading part of its contents, "… having a marvelous time - whatever the hell that means," he finished. Next, he proceeded to burn the telegram in one of the candles on the table.
"Perhaps we should…" Elsa began to speak, but he silenced her, placing one hand over hers. It was odd, but burning that piece of paper seemed to have restored most of his light mood.
"Perhaps we should join them." Her hand tensed under his, and she entwined her fingers with his. "How do you feel about anticipating your trip to Salzburg for a few weeks?" he asked, smiling at her.
What an interesting turn of events! Oh, she would give anything to read what was written in that telegraphic message!
Elsa did not smile back. Something was still amiss. The wicked half smile was back, but there was still something odd about his sudden change of mind. Only the day before, he had actually been talking about the possibility of staying an extra two weeks in Vienna. After that, they would go to Paris for another week or two. She´d been to Paris before, more times than she could count but not once with Georg. Knowing how fond he was of the city of lights, she could not help but feel excited about the prospect. Maybe – just maybe – in the incredibly romantic and definitely more liberal atmosphere of the French capital would inspire him to forget about his intent to keep her at arm´s length.
And now this… a meaningless piece of paper ruining everything. Or almost!
"Well, not everything, Elsa," she told herself. "Don´t be so pessimistic, this could be for the best. You don´t want to be his mistress in Paris or anywhere else, you want to be his wife in Salzburg. You will never have his ring on your finger if he doesn´t speak to his children first, it is just the way he is…"
"Elsa?" he insisted with a gentle whisper.
"Isn't it too soon? Do you think it is time?" she asked, still a little unsure. "I mean, only yesterday you were speaking about postponing your return."
Georg merely nodded.
"What about Paris and London?"
"I think that both the Parisians and the Londoners will be devastated, but they´ll survive without us for another month or two. Max?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers. She gulped – something told her that this would be the closest thing to a proposal she would hear from Georg.
"Yes, I'll come along. Didn´t I just say you two needed me desperately? There is your proof."
"Quit that infernal rambling, Max. Who says I am inviting you?" Georg taunted.
"Hah, you better be inviting me. Or do you think I would miss an opportunity to enjoy your superb villa?"
"Even as our chaperon?" Georg teased.
"I need more champagne," she said breathlessly, raising her glass, which was immediately refilled by a nearby waiter.
"For you two, my dears, I am always available," Max said, offering them a toast with his glass.
Elsa hardly heard them, lost in thoughts, considering the enormity of what just happened.
Georg was taking her to Salzburg to meet his family.