Chapter 4: "Oy vey!"
"No, Max." Georg rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"But why not? it's a wonderful idea. It's fresh, it's original. It will be a sensation."
"Max, somehow I recall making it quite clear how I feel about a book being written about my family."
"But Georg, think about it, it's a wonderful story."
"Max, what part of no don't you understand? I can't think of anything more horrifying than having our private family life exposed to the public. There will be no book."
"But the story is extraordinary. It's got everything: nuns, Nazis, singing, music, mountains, all those beautiful children, a miserable old sea captain who happens to be a war hero, and an adorable governess who falls into his clutches. And all of them singing like angels with their beautiful voices. The public will love it. It's like a real-life fairy tale."
Georg shook his head dismissively as he poured drinks, not even bothering to respond. But Max wasn't ready to give up.
"It would be a runaway best seller. They might even make a movie of it. Can you imagine if Hollywood in America got to hear of it? I just know they would make it into a motion picture. Why, you might even be played by Clark Gable or Cary Grant or Gregory Peck. We'd have to use artistic license to make you seem a lot nicer though," he added cheekily. "I promise you, generations of women will be swooning over Captain von Trapp for ever more."
"Thank you Max, for pointing out so precisely all the reasons why I do not want a book written about my family."
Max continued on regardless, gazing into the distance, his hands up framing a rectangle like a camera shot. "And Maria, why, she could be played by Grace Kelly or Judy Garland or Ingrid Bergman. Just imagine it: the actress who plays Maria could start on the top of the Untersberg, twirling around wearing her habit, surrounded by the magnificent glory of the Alps."
"No, Max."
"There could be shots of Nonnberg Abbey and the beauty of Salzburg. The film would be something so extraordinary, so unbelievable, so magical, the whole world would fall in love with it. It would capture people's hearts forever."
Georg raised a derisive eyebrow. "Your fevered imagination is getting out of control. Don't tell me you fancy yourself as a motion picture director now? The answer is no."
Max sighed. "Well you can't blame me for trying."
Maria came into the room. "Can't blame you for trying what Max?"
Georg responded dryly as Maria kissed him, "Trying my patience. As usual."
"Maria, please try to talk some sense into Georg will you? I've been telling him that you really must write a book about your story and your family. It will be marvelous. It's like the most enthralling of fairy tales: a love story, a family story, a story of heroism, patriotism…"
"Oh Max, I really don't think anyone would be interested in us," Maria laughed at the thought, as she settled next to Georg on the sofa. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head as she nestled next to him.
"Au contraire, my dear. Trust me, it's a story that everyone would love. Just think if that grumpy old husband of yours was played by Errol Flynn!"
"Errol Flynn," Maria sighed dreamily. But then she looked up to see the narrow-eyed gaze of her husband and hastily added "… is not nearly as handsome as you are darling. And you're not old either. Though the grumpy part…."
She trailed off teasingly, as Georg retorted dryly: "Good save, Maria."
Maria cupped his face and kissed him lovingly as she laughed, forgetting Max was in the room until Max cleared his throat dramatically. She blushed and stopped immediately.
Georg said sardonically, "Oh are you still here Max? We had forgotten all about you."
"As usual," Max responded cheerfully, unperturbed. "I'm used to it. Now where were we? We were just agreeing about Maria writing a book about her story and your family. It could be translated into English and then I am sure Hollywood in America would be interested in it. How could they not? It's a story that will set the whole world on fire."
"I did not agree Max, and I will not. It's absolutely out of the question. The very idea is nonsensical," Georg replied irritably.
"Oh but it is fun to dream about it, though I'm sure no-one could possibly be interested in us." Maria laughed at the thought. "All those American movie stars seem so glamorous."
Georg shrugged indifferently.
Maria's eyes were sparkling with wonder. "Just imagine if one day, we might even get to visit America. It seems like such an enchanting place, full of people with hopes and dreams of a better future, where anything is possible. Do you know, I've never met an American? I am sure they must be terribly exotic."
"I've met a few Americans," Georg murmured. "Very friendly people. But the one I got to know the best was really quite unusual. I am sure she wasn't typical at all. Governess number nine was quite a character."
"One of your governesses was American?" Maria squeaked in surprise. "Oh how lovely," she said, captivated. But then she looked at him indignantly. "You never told me about that before! Getting governess stories out of you is like getting blood from a stone," she complained.
"Oh didn't I mention it before?" Georg responded innocently. He rubbed his chin. "Mmm, I thought I did."
"You know you didn't. What was she like?" Maria asked eagerly.
"Yes, tell us Georg, and then we can get back to the subject at hand," Max agreed, sipping his drink.
Georg threw him an irritated look. "Alright then. Well, I admit when she arrived on my doorstep I was rather desperate. Governess number eight, Fraulein Gertrude, had just fled screaming into the night. Two of my 'adorable' little fiends had dressed themselves in sheets and pranced around her room making mournful ghoulish sounds in the middle of the night."
Maria tried to look suitably stern, but her love for the children shone through instead. "Oh the naughty little dears," she said lovingly, her eyes bright with laughter.
Georg just grunted in response. "Governess number nine was quite unusual as I said. I'd never met anyone like her before, and I haven't since. Rather an acquired taste I must say. As soon as I met her she described herself to me as a "pushy broad from the red apple.""
As Max and Maria looked mystified, he shrugged. "Yes, I didn't understand it either, but apparently 'broad' is the American word for lady, and the 'red apple' is New York. Or was it Big Apple?" He tilted his head as he mused. "Anyway, it was quite an education meeting her. I learned all kinds of phrases I'd never heard before."
"What was her name?" Maria asked, bursting with curiosity.
"She called herself Miss Fine. Fran Fine from Flushing, Queens, New York."
"How fascinating. Tell us more about her."
"She talked non-stop. My God that woman could talk! I learned far more about her in the first few hours than I know about Max after thirty years. But, God in heaven, I didn't want to know any of it. It was always 'yadder, yadder, yadder' with her."
As his companions looked puzzled again, he translated. "I think it means talk, talk talk."
"What did she look like?" Max asked, intrigued.
"Let's just say subtlety was not her strong point. She had very big hair piled on her head, and she wore bright red lipstick and tottered about in insanely high heels. All her clothes were ludicrously tight. They must have been at least two sizes too small and too short for her."
"How marvelous," Max observed, enthralled.
"When she first arrived she was wearing some shockingly bold clothes. Of course I told her she should put on something else before she met the children, but she changed into so many different outfits – all of them equally inappropriate and flamboyant - that I finally gave up. I think she had about twenty suitcases full of them."
"Oh she sounds delightful," Maria giggled.
"Mm, I think I'm in love already," Max agreed.
Georg scoffed, "You wouldn't be the only one. The boys were completely mesmerized by her. They hadn't met anyone like her before: so flashy and showy. They followed her around like love-sick puppies. The girls enjoyed her too, because she just seemed to want to talk about boys and clothes, and 'girl' things all the time. They thought she was riot. I, on the other hand, did not."
"Why not?" Max asked. "She sounds rather adorable."
"Well for one thing she was always late for everything." Georg looked pointedly at Maria.
Maria put a nonchalant look on her face as if she didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about. "Really?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, I don't know how it's possible, but at least two of my governesses were always late for work - despite living in the same house as the children," he said dryly as Maria bit her lip with a guilty smile.
"And another thing was that she was so frivolous and flaky, and completely fixated on marrying a rich man, though thank God she showed no interest in me. But I am sure she was the one who filled Liesl's head with all that ridiculous romantic nonsense about boys, parties, champagne," he grimaced.
Maria refrained from pointing out it was all just part of a young girl growing up.
Georg went on, scowling. "And it wasn't just Liesl either. She seemed to want to drag all my daughters down that path. I remember one time she got the girls all dolled up, wearing the most ghastly dresses, and they had make-up plastered to their faces. Can you believe it? Even the little ones!" he said, distastefully.
He didn't notice as Maria and Max exchanged secret amused looks.
"They all looked like damned showgirls, with big hair and lipstick, mincing about in ladies' shoes. I arrived home unexpectedly, and hit the roof of course. But Fraulein Fran seemed unperturbed by it all. She said it was just a bit of fun and that I should "lighten up already," whatever that means."
Max chuckled. "I have a feeling I know what it means."
Georg ignored him. "I wasn't the only one annoyed by her. She really seemed to rub Franz up the wrong way. It was partly her terrible nasal voice and partly her outrageous sense of humour. And dear God she had a laugh that could stop a charging bull in its tracks. It sounded like a cross between machine gun fire and a donkey braying."
Maria and Max listened, entranced and amused, as he continued.
"She seemed to go out of her way to get on Franz's nerves, claiming that he wasn't nearly as much fun as the butler in her previous place, Giles, or Niles or something. She would make jokes all the time that Franz didn't understand and it would make him livid."
Maria privately thought Franz didn't have a sense of humour at the best of times. He was always so dour and disdainful, she could just imagine him being riled by Fraulein Fine.
"What kind of jokes?" Max asked intrigued.
"Oh you know, things like: "Franz, quick! Get a doctor!" and Franz responded: "Why Fraulein, what's happened?" And she replied: "because I'm thirty and still unmarried!" Then she doubled up laughing her hee-haw laugh while he just stood there baffled and enraged."
Max chortled. "Poor Franz."
"Or another time she said: "Franz, would it have killed you to give us a good wine?" As he looked offended, she started to whine in her dreadful nasal voice about the weather or some such thing, and then said "There, I've done it for you. Ya' can thank me later."
"Every time she made one of her awful jokes she would poke Franz in the ribs, which would infuriate him even more. I almost felt sorry for him. If she had stayed much longer I am sure he would have had an apoplexy."
Maria suppressed her mirth as her husband looked unamused.
"Who did she work for before?"
"She talked incessantly about her previous employer, Mr Sheffield. I knew everything about him too, and I wish I didn't. Even when we were supposed to be talking about the children's lessons, it was all about her unrequited love for that blasted man. As if I gave a damn," Georg muttered, aggrieved.
"I had to keep snapping at her: "Focus, Fraulein Fran!" and then she would reply mournfully that I sounded just like him. She had been in love with him for years and he had been foolish enough to tell her he loved her, but then he took it back apparently. Not that I can blame the man. She would have driven anyone mad."
"She sounds delightful," Maria objected. "And it's terrible that this Mr Sheffield didn't return her love. How could he have taken it back?" she said indignantly.
"Dear God, that's what she said a hundred times a day! She kept wailing that he had plunged a dagger into her heart and it was twisting inside her every day. God the theatrics of the woman! It got on my nerves. Honestly, I couldn't care less. I just wanted Miss Fine to be a good governess to the children, but she seemed rather deficient in most subjects except hairstyles and clothes and something she mysteriously called 'dating.' I don't know what it is but I have my suspicions."
"I'm glad the children liked her so much. She sounds like she was a lot of fun," Maria smiled. "What happened to her?"
"The Sheffield chap just showed up out of the blue. Apparently he had crossed the Atlantic to find her."
"Oh how romantic," Maria said delightedly. "What was he like? Dark, intriguing, brooding?"
"Hurmpf. He seemed like a bit of a dandy to me – coiffed hair that he obviously spent far too much time combing, tailored suits, and he claimed to be an English aristocrat."
"Sounds vaguely familiar," Max chuckled quietly into his drink as Georg threw him an aggravated look.
"There was a big dramatic scene when he arrived. Fraulein Fran screamed with joy, flailing her arms wildly and then she ran over to him in her ridiculously high heels. I swear I thought she would break her neck before she got to him. She kept shreiking:"Mistah Sheffield, Mistah Sheffield, you came for me!" Frankly I'm surprised he didn't turn and flee in fright at that dreadful nasal voice."
Maria laughed in delight.
Georg snorted disagreeably, "I've heard love is blind, but in this case, it must have been deaf too."
"Oh, he chased after her! All the way across the Atlantic. How wonderful," Maria said happily.
Georg looked uncomfortable, remembering how he hadn't chased after Maria when she fled in distress to the Abbey. He cleared his throat guiltily and continued even more irritably.
"In the middle of all the commotion, he got down on one knee and proposed. In front of everyone. Can you imagine? I thought the British were more stoic and reserved than that!"
Maria gasped with delight and Max's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Well that was dramatic."
"Yes it was. I could have done without all that melodrama. My five girls were jumping around in various stages of hysterical rapture, while Fraulein Fine was screeching: "Oh My God, Mr Sheffield, this is so sudden!'"
Georg rolled his eyes. "I don't know how she could possibly say that, the man had been dragging his feet for six years apparently. Whereas, I, only took six weeks to propose," he said loftily.
Maria smiled at his smugness. She thought it best not to remind him that their romance had hardly been plain sailing either. She leaned up to kiss his cheek adoringly and sighed happily. "Oh I do love the stories where the governess is swept off her feet and carried off into the sunset by her dashing employer."
"Which is exactly why you should write a book about your story," Max intervened craftily. "Everyone loves a love story."
"Maaax!" Georg warned him, his brow beginning to furrow.
Maria sighed wistfully. "Oh darling, hearing about her makes me want to visit America even more. It seems like such a fun place, with such delightful people. Maybe one day…."
"Well with the way things are going here, we may have to leave Austria one day. We may very well end up somewhere else," Georg said moodily, staring into his drink.
As usual, Max misjudged Georg's mood entirely whenever Georg thought about the current political situation. He spoke flippantly.
"Which is all the more reason to write a book about your story Maria. It's your ticket to Hollywood. I can still imagine the closing scene, it could be one of those big romantic screen kisses that they always finish up with as the scene fades."
"Oh for the love of God, Max! I thought the governess story would distract you but you are like a dog with a damned bone." Georg snapped, getting to his feet in anger.
Seeing that the lid was about to blow off Georg's temper, Maria stood up too and hastily placed a soothing hand on his chest and reached up with the other to stroke his face.
"Oh sweetheart, Max is just teasing us about this silly idea of a book," she said softly. "We all know no-one could possibly be interested in our lives."
As her husband still scowled furiously, Maria wished Max would take the hint and leave them alone so that she could soothe Georg the way she knew best.
She held him close until she felt his body start to relax and then she thought of something to distract him.
"Darling do you remember that American film we saw recently 'Gone with the Wind'? Wasn't it terribly romantic the way Rhett picked Scarlett up?"
It worked. Georg snorted. "Pah! I think we can do better than that!" He reached down to put a hand under her knees and scooped her up in his arms in dramatic style.
Maria laughed in surprise. "Stop Georg, what are you doing? Max is here," she scolded reprovingly, ruining the effect with a giggle.
Georg gave her his most rakish smirk. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."
Maria laughed again delightedly, but was silenced as her husband leaned down to kiss her. She forgot all about Max once more as she wrapped her arms around Georg's neck, twining her fingers in his hair. She was soon lost in the bliss of the moment.
Max cleared his throat and then sighed as it became clear the other two were only aware of each other. "Right well, I'll just see myself out then, shall I?" He was met with silence, except for Maria's sighs of pleasure.
"Fine, fine, I can see where I am not needed." Max got up to leave, making sure to take a bottle of wine with him.
He closed the door behind him, leaving the oblivious couple inside, locked in a passionate embrace. He wondered how he could get Maria to use her influence to change Georg's mind about the book. If only Georg would see sense and realize they were sitting on a potential goldmine. Who knew, they might all get to go to America one day after all.
He strolled off, his thoughts filled with glamorous American movie stars and a motion picture he was sure would make a pile of lovely money for some lucky producer. It might even be a bigger box office smash than that 'Gone with the Wind' film.
Now, all he had to do was to think of a good title. What about: The von Trapp Family Singers? No, too boring. The Sound of….. Money? Too mercenary, even for him. The Sound of …..Maria? Too schmaltzy.
Well, it would come to him eventually, he decided confidently, whistling merrily.
oooooOOOOooooo
A/N: For those of you who have seen 'The Nanny,' was it just me, or did Mr Sheffield seem like Georg to you: same hair, impeccable suits, debonair aristocratic charm? (And fun fact: the actor who played him became a British Baron recently. I guess that is life imitating art.)
I would love to know your thoughts. Thanks for reading.
I do not own TSOM or The Nanny.