When The Lord Closes A Door

Chapter 9

Maria glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand once again, then up at the building she was standing in front of. Yes, it was the right address but what on earth was she doing there?

It had taken Maria a several hours to get the children back home then wait for their mother Ruth to arrive back to look after them before she was able to able to go and find Georg. Ruth had been curious about this sudden 'friend' of Maria's that she had to go and help in a hurry since Maria had never mentioned any friends before prior to that day. Maria had been hesitant to say any more than she had already had in fear that more questions would be asked. It had already been awkward enough to explain to Ruth why she wouldn't be able to look her children that afternoon let alone revealing that she was going off to meet with a man.

Maria had found the address that Georg wanted to meet her at quickly but once she'd arrived and seen that the place was an impressive and high-class apartment block, she began to have second thoughts about going inside to meet him. What was he playing at? Maria wondered. Months ago, they had agreed not to meet anymore due to their increasing feelings for one another, yet here he was, appearing out of the blue and requesting to meet her at such an intimate spot. Maria knew what it would look like if anyone saw her entering or leaving such an exclusive place yet she also remembered the look of despair on Georg's face back at the park and she knew that she couldn't let him down.

Maria looked up once again at the imposing façade of the posh apartment block. Taking a deep breath, she tucked the piece of paper back inside her sleeve then pushed the large front door open and stepped inside the foyer. Scanning her eyes around the entryway, she located the directions to the various numbered apartments before making her way up the grand spiral staircase several flights before coming to stand outside the appropriate door. Maria lifted her hand to knock on the door but hesitated. Doubts re-entered her mind about what she was even doing there and she was just about to turn and leave when the door opened, causing her to jump.

"Er… I saw you out on the street from the window," Georg quickly explained seeing the surprised expression on Maria's face. "But it took you long enough to get up here," he added dryly with a hint of sharpness in his voice.

"Well I…," Maria stammered, hardly knowing what to make of Georg's changed demeanour. At the park earlier, he appeared wild and panicked, a man consumed by anguish and desperation. But now, there was an eerie calmness about him. He had removed his coat and tie and undone the top few buttons of his shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and he held an empty whiskey glass in one hand.

Maria gawked at him open-mouthed. Georg inclined his head towards the direction of the apartment. "I suppose you better come in now you're finally here," he sneered, stepping backwards to allow Maria to pass by him.

Cautiously Maria entered the apartment and looked around in interest as Georg closed the front door behind him. Simple, yet elegant furniture styled the small lounge room and one side of the room had French doors which opened out onto a large balcony. There was a short hallway that ran off the other side of the room and Maria could see a bedroom with a large four-poster bed through the door at the end of the passageway. Maria shivered involuntarily: she didn't feel particularly comfortable being there.

She turned back around to face Georg. Arms crossed, he was leaning casually back on the closed front door and watching her intently. Wordlessly, he walked over to the coffee table and re-filled his glass with more whiskey from the decanter. Never taking his eyes off her, he took a large sip from the glass and shuddered slightly as he swallowed it. "How much have you had to drink?" Maria asked.

"Not enough, not nearly enough," he replied with a growl, then continued to stare at her.

The way he was intently scrutinising her reminded Maria of her first moments at the von Trapp villa when Georg had caught her snooping the ballroom. Feeling even more uncomfortable under his watchful gaze, Maria quickly spun around and walked over to the French doors to look out upon the view of the setting sun over the city.

"Uh, what is this place?" she asked offhandedly, sensing all too well that she knew what the answer would be.

"It's my city apartment," Georg replied slyly. "A place I come to when I need privacy." Maria couldn't help but hear his voice linger on that last word and instantly her mind began to whirl with all sorts of thoughts of the possible scenarios and implications of being in such a private apartment, not to mention what almost happened between them the last time they were together. Now it really seemed like a bad idea to be there. She needed to leave.

"I really don't think I should be here…" Maria began to move towards the door but Georg beat her there and placed his hand over the doorknob, thereby stopping her leaving. "Relax Maria," he spat, sounding exasperated. "I assure you your virtue is entirely safe with me. That's not what I asked you here for."

"Well why did you?" she asked, feeling perplexed. Honestly, his behaviour that day was truly bizarre. From practically raving lunatic to now snarling beast, she didn't know what to make of him. He looked at her hard for a moment in silence, but then he just shrugged and walked away from her, taking another swig of his whiskey.

All Maria wanted to do was leave right there and then, yet she knew there was something very amiss with Georg. He was not himself. He had asked her for help earlier in the park and he wasn't the type of man to ask anyone for help unless he really needed it. Whatever was on Georg's mind was urgent enough for him to come and find her and Maria was determined not to leave until he told her what it was.

"Georg?" Maria said. He didn't reply. "Georg, please can you tell me what's wrong?" she asked, half pleading, half infuriated. When he still didn't answer, she let out a frustrated huff and placed her hands on her hips. "Look, obviously something is going on, something important enough to come and find me as ask me here. Well, here I am! Tell me what's going on right now, otherwise I'll leave."

Maria had a fiery temper and Georg had no doubt that unless he said something, she would make good on her threat and actually leave. He couldn't let her do that. "Don't go," he croaked.

Georg knew he owed Maria an explanation but he was a mess. Arriving at the apartment hours before, Georg found his mind swimming with thoughts of the past. Ever since Elsa told him about her illness, a floodgate had opened for all the memories that he had fought so hard to forget. It was agony. As he waited for Maria, he had begun to drink, lapsing back into the habit he had picked up during the weeks and months following Agathe's death. The alcohol had dulled the pain somewhat, but he knew it was causing him to act like a bit of brute towards Maria. She deserved better.

Turning around and seeing Maria's anxious face, waiting in expectation for his reply, Georg was instantly reminded of that other time long ago when he had to face seven worried faces, anxiously waiting to hear how their mother was.

"Father, how is Mother?"

"Father, when will she be getting better?"

"Father, can we see her?"

The memory of their wailing and tears that followed when he had told them that their mother had died threatened to completely consume him. Georg shut his eyes for a second and shook his head slightly, like he was trying to shake the old memory away. He opened his mouth to speak but like back then, his mouth dried up and he felt his throat constrict as he tried to get the words out.

Seeing the anguish on Georg's face, her heart went out to him. Maria took several steps towards Georg and stood right in front of him. She placed one hand on his arm. "Georg, please tell me what's wrong," she begged.

"It's Elsa," Georg began, his voice strained. "She's sick."

"Sick?" Maria repeated, her brow furrowed. How sick was sick? she wondered.

Georg swallowed hard, silently preparing himself for speaking the words that seemed so hard to say. It had been difficult when Agathe was dying and it was just as difficult this time around with it now being about Elsa. "Maria… she's dying."

"What?" Maria breathed, hardly believing her ears. She looked deep into Georg's eyes, searching them for any signs that he may be lying or over exaggerating the truth, but she didn't find any. He nodded faintly, almost in answer to her unspoken question.

Maria didn't know how to react: she was a loving and compassionate woman who never liked to hear of anyone becoming sick or dying, yet the Baroness was the woman who had manipulated her into leaving the von Trapp villa the night of the party, the woman who had come between her and the man she loved, and the woman who Maria had every reason to despise.

Tearing her eyes from Georg's face, she looked blindly around the room until her eyes came to rest on Georg's half-drunk glass of whiskey still in his hand. Without even stopping to think, she grabbed the glass from his hand and then sculled the remaining liquid in one gulp. Instantly her throat burned and she began to cough uncontrollably.

As she bent over gasping for breath, Maria felt Georg take the glass from her hand. He slapped her back gently as she continued to cough, trying to recover. "I didn't know you drank," he remarked sounding surprised.

"I don't," Maria admitted as she caught her breath. "It just seemed like a good time to start."

Georg chuckled quietly. Maria sensed he was starting to soften up somewhat. "Here, let me get you something less toxic to drink," he offered. Maria nodded thankfully and watched as Georg poured her a glass of wine. She took a cautious sip then placed the glass on the table in front of her.

"Are you alright?" Georg asked her.

"Yes," Maria replied. "Just in a bit of shock."

"Uh huh," Georg nodded. "I understand. I felt the same way when Elsa told me earlier today."

Now that he had told Maria about Elsa, Georg felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He started to relax and began to breathe easier. He sat down on the nearest sofa and patted the seat next to him. Dutifully Maria came and sat down beside him. Quietly Georg began to tell Maria about Elsa's strange behaviour over the past month or so and about how he believed Elsa was having an affair only to find out earlier that day that, in fact, she was sick and dying. And as he talked, Georg could feel himself starting to sober up too.

Now that Maria had recovered from the initial shock and seeing that Georg had calmed down somewhat and was opening up, she began to bombard him with all sorts of questions about Elsa and her illness. Some he could answer, but most he could not.

"I don't understand," Maria said after the sixth unanswered question. "How come you don't know?"

Georg shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I, uh, sort of ran out on Elsa just moments after she told me."

"You what?" Maria exclaimed sounding horrified. "Oh Georg, how could you?"

Georg buried his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. "It was wrong, I know, to run from Elsa and not even offer her words of comfort or support but I couldn't stay there… I just couldn't! It was too much, you see… it reminded me too much of… the memories of before - the last time this happened… when she died…"

"She?" Maria questioned, slightly confused but then it hit her – Georg was referring to his late wife. "Oh…"

There was a long silence. "You've never spoken of her before," Maria finally stated quietly.

"No, I have not," Georg replied stiffly.

"Why haven't you?" Maria asked gently. "The children strangely never mentioned her; like she was a forbidden topic or something. The only things I know about her was what the Reverend Mother and Frau Schmidt told me."

"And what was that?" Georg asked, looking up at her.

"Only that you lost her and then everything changed."

Georg shook his head scornfully as he stood up. "Everything changed," he repeated with a bitter laugh. "Of course it changed!" he cried. "She was gone and nothing would ever be the same again." Georg began to pace the room. "I loved her Maria. So much that I never thought I would recover from her death. The grief was all consuming and I was angry at the world." He turned to face her again. "I suppose it seemed easier to block her all out and try to at least pretend like she never existed; much easier than having to face the pain of her death."

"Oh Georg," Maria sighed as her heart went out to him.

"When Elsa told me she was dying, all I could see in my mind was the memory of the doctor telling me that my darling Agathe was not going to recover. The pain was immense, so fresh and raw like it had happened just the day before, rather than years ago. It was suffocating! I knew I had to get out of there…" he paused, "and find the only person I knew I could trust and confide in…"

"Me?" she asked in a whisper. Georg nodded, his eyes locking with hers. Maria felt the same lurch in her stomach as she had when Georg had gazed at her at the end of the Laendler and her cheeks began to burn.

Maria tore her eyes from his and gently coughed, breaking their intense moment. "Surely you have other people to talk to," she tried to brush off. "Herr Detweiller, perhaps?"

"Max?" Georg scoffed. "Well, Max is a good friend and useful to have around, when he wants something. But as he can be the most incredible gossip, he is sometimes the very last person that I'd want to confide in, particularly in err… sensitive issues…"

"I see," replied Maria, looking down at her hands.

Maria was trying to digest all that Georg had told her about the Baroness's illness and how tormented he was, feeling like he was re-living losing his first wife and she wondered how much of his distress was because of the recalled memories or because he was going to lose another wife that he loved desperately. But did he really love the Baroness like that? Maria remembered that Georg had once told her that that while he loved the Baroness in his own way that he wasn't in love with her. Did he still feel the same way? And what of the way Georg felt about her? Maria wondered. Georg and the Baroness had been married close to a year now and perhaps they had grown much closer since she had stopped meeting up with Georg. Maria supposed it was only natural for a husband to be in love with his wife and she, Maria, was just the former governess whom Georg now saw as nothing more than a friend to confide in. It was already torture enough seeing Georg married to someone else let alone having to see and hear how distraught he was that the Baroness was dying.

Suddenly she couldn't bear to be in the room with Georg anymore. She stood to go. "I'm sorry Georg," she tried to explain. "Perhaps I'm not the best person to talk to about your wife dying, especially after…" she stopped as words failed her. Maria blinked away a tear which had started to form in her eye and took several steps towards to door when Georg called out to her.

"Maria, wait."

"No," she shook her head sadly. "I can't stay here while you tell me how devastated you are that your wife, whom you love so much, is sick and dying."

Georg was confused for a second but then the penny dropped. "No, Maria," he said taking her hand and leading her back to the sofa. They sat down. "I know that it seems like asking you here is all because of Elsa, and it probably feels incredibly insensitive of me to do so, especially considering the way you and I feel about each other." He paused. "Maria, there are so many things that are going through my mind right now. Elsa's illness is very difficult for me to face because of what I've gone through in the past with losing Agathe. It is dredging up old, difficult and hurtful memories that I'd wished to bury forever. I never thought that I could share with anyone the pain of what I went through when Agathe died until you came along. You opened my heart and showed me that I could trust you with the secrets of my innermost soul and I know I'll have the strength to face all my demons with you beside me…" Maria shuddered unconsciously: Georg's words were melting her.

"But," he continued, his voice slightly louder, "I won't deny that I am upset that Elsa is ill – I would hardly be a decent person, or husband, if I wasn't upset! I feel incredibly guilty about running out on her when she really needed me and I don't know if I can ever make that up to her. I also can't bear the thought of Elsa becoming so sick and then dying. She is a good and kind person whom I've known for many years. Even though our marriage was a mistake, in my own way, I do love Elsa and I'm thankful to her for many things, including helping me find some meaning in my life when I thought there was no meaning left. But," he stroked Maria's hand, "she is not the woman I am in love with. You are."

Maria looked away and nodded slowly, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. But Georg knew she wasn't really understanding what he was wanting to say. "Maria," he slowly placed one finger under her chin and gently turned her face towards his so she was looking at him. "There is another reason why I wanted to find you today."

A hot, prickly feeling of warmth then coldness washed over Maria's body and her heartbeat quickened. "What's that?" she asked hesitantly.

"You see," he began, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "As much as it's awful to think about, or even contemplate, when Elsa dies…" his voice trailed off.

When Georg didn't continue, Maria's mind somehow filled in the gaps. "We could be together?" she whispered.

He nodded slowly.

The thought hadn't occurred to Maria before, but now Georg had said it, it made perfect sense. Maria's whole body started to tremble as a feeling of relief involuntarily came over her. But then she immediately felt guilty for wanting, or even longing for, a woman to die so she could be with the man she loved. Yet, wasn't this situation an answer to prayer? Hadn't she spent hours and hours praying to the Lord to somehow provide a way for she and Georg to be together? And yet now there was a way…

Her hands flew to her face as it hit her. She stood up and began to back away from Georg. "It's all my fault…" she whispered under her breath to herself.

"What?" Georg asked, not quite hearing her.

Maria looked at him in alarm, her face pale. "This… The Baroness... It's my fault she's sick."

"Your fault? How? Maria, you're not making sense." Georg scratched his head. "You couldn't have made Elsa sick."

"No," she cried, "but I asked for it, maybe not directly, but I did… Every night since I knew we could never be together, not even as friends, I've prayed to the Lord: begged and pleaded for Him to somehow find a way for us to be together. In the Bible it says 'ask and you shall receive'; that He will give you whatever your heart desires, according to His will. And even the Reverend Mother has always said to me: 'when the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window'. Well, Georg? Doors had been shut and now windows are being opened. My prayers have been answered, so how could this not have been all my fault?"

At once, tears began to flow and Maria broke down sobbing. Instinctively Georg took Maria into his arms and held her as she cried. "Maria," he soothed. "Despite what you think, Elsa's illness is not your fault. She has been smoking for years so it's hardly surprising that she has become sick." Maria shut her eyes and shook her head, silently disagreeing with him. "While I'm sure the Reverend Mother believes in the power of prayer," he continued, stroking her hair lightly. "I know from experience that not all prayers are answered in the ways that we want, no matter how hard someone might pray." A distant memory of Georg praying desperately at Agathe's bedside as she lay dying past quickly in front of his eyes.

"But prayers can be, and are answered all the time," Maria protested. Georg looked at her wistfully. "Alright," Maria said after a moment. "Suppose you're right and my prayers had nothing to do with the Baroness's illness, I was still praying and yearning for a way for us to be together."

"There is nothing wrong with wanting to be with the person you're in love with."

"No, unless he is a married man." She hesitated. "Georg, I have every reason to despise the Baroness, for marrying you and coming between us, and for the n-…" Maria stopped knowing she was about to reveal to Georg what the Baroness had done and said to her the night of the party, something she had vowed never to do. "Oh help!" she wept. "What kind of person am I? Maybe I've never said it out loud before, but at times deep down I had hoped and even wanted something to happen to her, and now she is going to d… Oh, I'm so, so sorry," Maria burst into tears again and Georg pulled her tighter to him.

"Everything will be alright," he murmured into her hair.

"How?" Maria choked.

"I don't know," replied Georg honestly. While Maria's confession about her feelings towards Elsa had shocked him slightly, he couldn't blame her. There had been times that he had despised Elsa too, especially since he was trapped married to her and not the woman he was in love with. Yet he knew Maria: she was the most loving and kind-hearted woman he had ever met, apart from Agathe. There wasn't an evil bone in her body and he knew Maria's feelings of animosity towards Elsa were stemmed from hurt, desperation and love for him.

He hugged Maria even closer to him, wanting somehow for the pain and hurt of everything that was happening to go away. He felt like a failure: first with Agathe. He had been powerless to stop her getting sick and then dying. Next, he had failed his children. Pushing them aside for years and distancing himself from them had damaged their relationship. He had even consented to send the children away to boarding school, something that had been eating away at him since they'd gone. Then Elsa had become sick and he hadn't even been man enough to stay with her while she'd poured her heart out to him. And now Maria – the woman he loved and lost, only to hurt her once more by marrying another. He should have let her go for good while he had the chance, yet, again he had dragged her back into his life and heaped all his problems onto her. It wasn't fair. Georg knew there was nothing he could do right that instant about all the other messes in his life, but he did have Maria in his arms right then and he could offer her the comfort she deserved and share the burden with her.

Instinctively, Georg touched his lips to her hair softly then rested his chin on top of her head as Maria buried her face into his neck. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave mixed in with a bit of whiskey and let out a deep sigh, barely noticing Georg placing more light kisses on the top of her head. His arms were so warm and comforting around her, and she felt safe and loved and like everything would be alright, somehow.

Eyes still closed and lifting her head ever so slightly, Maria felt Georg's kisses move from the top of her head to her forehead, then down to her temple, his day-old stubble lightly grazing her skin. It would have been foolish not to realise that they were playing with fire, yet in the privacy of the apartment and with their arms around each other, it seemed easy to pretend that nothing else existed, or mattered, apart from the two of them.

It wasn't really meant to occur, but somehow it did. Maria didn't know exactly how it happened, whether it was Georg or herself who had initiated it first, but suddenly his lips had found hers for one long, sensual, breathless kiss. A second, deeper kiss followed, one that felt a fraction clumsy as their first moments of kissing each other were a little strange and new; their tongues touching briefly as their mouths opened slightly.

Georg let out a moan of pleasure as they shared another long, slow, smouldering kiss. As they parted, he caressed Maria's face with one hand before guiding her lips back to his as he kissed her again. "My love," he murmured in between kisses.

Maria's head was swimming. Her knees felt like they were about to buckle and she was thankful Georg's arms were around her holding her up. Her heart leapt. They were kissing! Squeee! For so long she had dreamt of this moment: the moment when they would finally kiss and it was even better than in her imagination!

But then Maria was suddenly struck with the realisation of what they were doing. Her blood turned cold. They were kissing! Oh no…! Georg was a married man. No matter how much she wanted it, or how wonderful it felt, it was wrong! It needed to stop.

At once Maria broke the kiss and pushed Georg away. "No," she whispered as she stepped backwards away from him.

Georg stared at her open mouthed in shock. He didn't know what to say. His mind reeled - he hadn't intended on things getting so out of hand between them.

Maria felt her cheeks flush red and she placed her two palms flat on her burning cheeks and took another step backwards. Her chest was heaving and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She had known that it was a bad idea going to Georg's apartment and she didn't know how things had gotten so out of control so quickly. But the only thing she knew she could do was to run…

Georg saw the confused and panicked look in her eyes – the same look she'd had as she'd backed away from him at the end of the Laendler and the same look she'd had when she'd left him in the park that day. He knew what that look meant: she was going to run.

And whether or not he should, Georg knew he couldn't let her get away from him. No, not again.

Together, they moved at the same time: Maria for the door and Georg for Maria, but Georg got to Maria first.

Georg grasped Maria by the shoulders and spun her around, stopping her from leaving. They stared breathless into each other's eyes for seconds, both unsure what they were going to do next.

Yet suddenly, there was only one thing in the world that they both wanted and needed to do.

Like an invisible force pulling them together, they flung their arms around each other and kissed passionately again.

A/N: Thanks everyone for their reviews. They are so encouraging. Still lots more to come. Please review!