Two more weeks passed before the ship made Valencia. Activity on the docks appeared hectic as the great cargo ships were relieved of their containers by the industrious speed and efficiency of the dockside workers.
While Matt helped with the unloading, Rosa busied herself with the ship’s inventories. To all intents and purposes they were part of the ship’s fabric of society, going about their duties entirely above suspicion. Night had fallen by the time the remaining containers had been removed from their resting places on the ship.
After sharing a hearty meal with the crew the two fugitives disembarked onto shore with their belongings. Rosa had told Matt they would be contacted here, though had provided no detail as to by whom or how. Ten further minutes passed as they waited patiently at the side of the ship, filling the time with meaningless small talk.
Headlights appeared, adding to the dockside illumination and making their presence by the ship more conspicuous. Matt decided they were too large and too many to belong to an ordinary passenger car.
The long HGV drew up alongside and they heard someone jump out from the cab on the opposite side, the driver’s feet hitting the ground with a heavy thud. A figure, around the same height as Matt, came into view.
Dressed in denim shirt and dark jeans, his feet were clad in black Timberland labelled half boots. He strode energetically towards them.
“Johannes!” shrieked Rosa. She skipped towards the approaching figure and leapt against his chest, tucking her legs around his waist.
She kissed frantically at the man’s cheeks, delighted to be re-united with the reddish haired stranger.
The masculine face was shaven of facial hair, revealing a strongly defined jaw and high cheek bones. Matt noticed his left ear was pierced with a metal ring, small and round in circumference but thick with gold. The guy had money.
This had to be the man in her life. Not that this concerned him unduly. Matt was happy for her. Rosa had made it clear during the voyage their relationship was to be a business arrangement only. Now he understood why. Her total being, everything she was, belonged to this man.
For several moments Rosa and her beau prolonged their welcome embrace. Once she had been lowered to the ground the man looked at her fellow fugitive, standing quietly by.
“I am Johannes,” he said in a thick Germanic dialect. “You must be Matt, the man Rosa has spoken about.”
He thrust out a large fist and clasped Matt’s hand in a firm handshake. The man’s dark brown eyes matched Matt’s gaze and he studied the Englishman’s face while they greeted each other.
“Pleased to meet you, Johannes,” he responded.
“Come, we have a long distance to journey and much to talk about on the way,” said the Austrian. With that, he led them into the cab of his lorry.
Safely ensconced within the vehicle, the three began to share information about the current situation.
“Do not worry about border controls,” said Johannes as they approached the exit gate, “I am well known here.”
Sure enough they passed unchallenged from the dockside and were soon out onto the main roads, away from the main town. Rosa did most of the talking initially, snuggling up to Johannes and providing Matt with a potted history on the man in her life and on how they had got together.
She had met him by chance, when she was on the op in Austria, three years ago. He came from a wealthy family, his father having developed a business in transportation which included both road haulage and ocean cargo. Although he was now responsible for the commercial empire Johannes enjoyed life on the road, and it was not uncommon for him to do some of the wagon runs.
Keeps me normal, was all he added to her commentary.
This ‘hands on’ approach had endeared him to his workforce and caused Matt to recall his own approach to management back in the North East of England. Rosa spoke with pride on the positive comments the employees had for Johannes. She was clearly much in love with this down-to-earth, very grounded, man.
They appeared a peculiar match at first. He soon twigged it was Johannes’ very ordinariness, despite his wealth, she found attractive. He was a man at total ease with himself, largely undemonstrative yet capable of open displays of affection. Rosa, her guard completely let down, was almost childlike in his presence.
Matt warmed to the Austrian. In a different world he was sure they might well have become friends. As the journey unfolded, Johannes brought them up to date with the progress he had made.
“My step sister, Eva-Maria, works in the Department for Constitutional Affairs at the EU in Brussels. She has spoken to the head of Department, a woman called Catherine Vogel, who I think will help you. She is a good person, also born in St Wolfgang. All the best Austrians are,” he joked. “She holds much influence in the Commission.”
“Catherine Vogel?” questioned Matt. “That’s a familiar name.”
“She is well known,” said Johannes, “with a reputation throughout Europe for her beliefs in democracy and freedom. Catherine was heavily involved in the development of The Lisbon Treaty, which is how she came to assume her position. That’s how you will most likely have heard of her.”
“No,” said Matt, “I’ve never really followed the detail of the EU too closely. Then again I’ve never really been into politics much until recently.”
“How else could you know of her?” asked Rosa.
“I’m not sure. Her name is familiar though, for some reason or other.”
He searched the inner recesses of his memory, trying to place where he had seen the name before.
“If you are not with comfort about Catherine, then I am not sure who else you could talk to,” said Johannes.
Matt shook his head, disappointed his memory had deserted him. It was probably nothing. All the same, it nagged at him.
“Okay, Johannes. If you firmly believe this woman can help us, then we have to meet her.”
“She gave me an e-mail address,” and the Austrian took out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “This is a safe contact point. I hope she will meet us in St Wolfgang.”
The writing read, ‘[email protected].’
“Is this secure Rosa?” asked Matt. “Is any e-mail address safe these days?”
“As long as there were no key words used, it should be alright,” she responded.
The driver handed over another piece of paper.
“This is the message I had sent and the reply back from Catherine.”
Rosa inspected the wording of each contact.
“It looks okay, as long as they are not already monitoring the site.”
“How would we know?” asked Matt.
“We don’t,” Rosa replied. “Johannes believes it is safe. It’s your call.”
Matt was bothered without understanding why and tried again to recall how the name seemed familiar, only for his memory to continue to let him down.
“How long will it take us to get to St Wolfgang?” he asked.
“Around two days,” said Johannes. “Longer, if Rosa does not take her share of the driving.”
“Rosa!”
“I have a licence,” she chipped in. “Girl of many talents,” she laughed.
“Having a licence is one thing, being able to drive this monster safely is an altogether different issue,” remarked Matt, and she reacted by thumping his arm in mock anger.
Johannes caught the playfulness between them from the corner of his eye. He had noticed their relationship appeared close. The physical contact was frequent, affectionate and not in the least part forced. He reasoned this was due to the months of time they had spent together, alone, in each other’s company.
Johannes was a man who had always been comfortable with his own persona. For the first time in his life he felt insecure, harbouring reservations on his ability to retain the love of this woman. Despite the passionate welcome he had been given he found himself consumed with doubt, suddenly unsure about Rosa.
The mid afternoon sun shone brightly outside
as the vehicle came to a halt at the service station. One by one the three occupants climbed out of the cab into the brisk, cold breeze of the day. Matt and Rosa shivered under the sunlight, folding their arms together to retain some heat in their bodies, their breaths weaving pretty patterns in the sub zero air each time they exhaled.
Johannes took the rapid drop in temperature in his stride, handing them a fifty Euro note apiece before pointing them towards the service area.
“Food and a warm drink,” he said ushering them towards the building’s entrance. “I will join you soon.”
He turned and headed for the small brick office set to the side of the lorry bay area. Matt and Rosa hurried from the cold air into the warmth of the service station. They looked for a table away from the windows, towards the rear of the building where it was gloomy and few others were located. Assuming the place operated on a self service basis they approached the hot meal counter, only to be advised to return to their seats and wait to be attended.
The place was spotlessly clean, typical of the country. If they had been in the UK, Matt was sure the tables would have felt grimy with bits of food deposited on the floor around their feet.
Not here, though.
Their meal soon arrived, piping hot and deftly presented on a square plate accompanied by a large steaming hot cup of coffee. Hungrier than they had imagined, they devoured the food almost as soon as it had been placed upon the table with barely a word of conversation.
Matt had no idea what he had eaten. There was no English menu and he had to guess at the contents of his order, loathe as he was to alert Rosa he had no understanding. But it was meat and very tasty.
Taking a sip from the large round cup of coffee he looked up to see Rosa struggling to contain her throaty laugh. He couldn’t understand what should be so funny about taking a simple sip of coffee.
“You are the last person I would have expected to eat horse meat,” she remarked, her smile subsiding into a more serious expression.
“What!” he yelped, and spewed the hot brown liquid back into the coffee mug. His response returned the laughter to Rosa’s face, her mirth only louder and throatier than before.
Johannes appeared out of nowhere and sat in the seat next to Rosa, curious about the playful banter between them. The incident cemented his view they had established a deep and strong affection. It discomfited him.
“We are close to St Wolfgang. From here we go by car, as soon as you have finished.”
He rose from the chair almost as quickly as he had sat down and made for the exit. Rosa, sensing all was not well with Johannes, followed him immediately leaving Matt to settle the bill.
Within half an hour they had reached the edge of the Wolfgangsee. They were in the Salzkammergut region of Austria, an area of the country where vast lakes sat in plains surrounded by huge mountainous peaks capped with snow. The Wolfgangsee is one of these lakes.
Sat in the back of the cavernous Mercedes, descending the bank from the wooded edged single lane carriageway, Matt caught his first sight of the enormous stretch of water. The lake stretched into the far distance; so far he could not see its end. Despite the winterish conditions the mass looked calm and serene, placid even. The shape of a passenger ferry could just be made out on the horizon of the water, heading away from them.
St Gilgen was the first village into view on reaching the bottom of the bank. To the right of the road Matt could see a cable car structure rising up into the adjacent mountain, the Zwolferhorn, according to Johannes. The attached cable cars moved slowly up into the sky and then disappeared into the heart of the forested landscape. To the left a small village sat by the lakeside, revealing numerous chalet-shaped three and four storey houses built in layers from the ground.
He remembered Johannes saying the houses in Austria were constructed this way to accommodate several generations of individual families. The eldest would occupy the lowest floors, the next generation the one above and so on. Matt considered the arrangement to be exceptionally clever in its pure simplicity.
The road hugged the shores of the great lake. Johannes explained the waters of all the seven lakes in the region were virtually fit enough to drink from source. It was certainly true of Lake Fuschl as he had drunk from the lake there himself, an impressive anecdote. He pointed Matt’s attention across to the other side.
“St Wolfgang,” he said proudly.
Matt noticed the wooded hills first. Then a small looking village came into view. The tall thin white church tower was the first building visible, followed by a string of houses spread out along the lakeside to the right. It was a truly picturesque setting.
Circling the Wolfgangsee took another ten minutes. Driving past the village of Strobl, also built at the lakeside but directly opposite St Gilgen, they reached the outskirts of their destination. The car filed down the narrow street, lined by pretty painted houses and shops, before coming to rest outside a gasthof.
“Why are we stopping?” asked Rosa.
“I have a room here for Matt,” replied Johannes. “This is where I hope Catherine will come to meet you,” he continued, looking at his male passenger in search of Matt’s approval.
He nodded, understanding Johannes wished to separate him from close proximity to Rosa. For all his masculine assurance and swagger, Matt considered the driver to be unnecessarily disturbed by his girlfriend’s attachment to the Englishman.
“Where will I stay?”
“At home of course,” said Johannes, feigning surprise she would think it could be any different.
“Johannes is quite right,” interrupted Matt. “We shouldn’t be together.”
“But I want to be at the meeting too,” she insisted.
“You will be,” said Johannes. “Matt will need time alone to prepare. This way he will be undisturbed.”
Matt’s reassuring smile confirmed his agreement with the Austrian’s summary. He patted her shoulder gently as he exited the rear of the car. Johannes led him down a gentle slope into the hotel, to the reception point immediately to the right of the entrance door.
“Guten Morgen, Wilhelm,” he said to the heavyset man behind the desk.
“Johannes!” welcomed the man excitedly. They continued to exchange pleasantries in their native Germanic tongue for some few minutes longer.
Matt was introduced to his host, Johannes’ cousin as it turned out. Before separating, he was handed a package by Johannes and told the costs of his room and refreshments had already been settled.
“We will call later tonight,” were Johannes’ parting words.
Wilhelm led Matt to his room. He noticed the computer on the ground floor, by the stairs. A useful tool, he considered.
The room finish was of a higher standard than he expected. A recently refurbished shower room and separate toilet were situated immediately to either side of the door. There were two single beds inside the oblong sized room accompanied by a desk, chair and television cabinet. At the end of the room the single patio door opened onto the wide wooden balcony overhanging the roof of the floor below, offering two views of the lake around each side of the building directly in front. Had Matt had to make his own reservation at the gasthof he would surely have asked for this room.
Wilhelm explained the hotel had been renovated last year to accommodate a growing influx of tourists to the town, particularly from Britain. He hoped his guest approved of the refurbishment, which Matt confirmed, and then left the Englishman to freshen up from the journey and settle into his new surroundings.
Matt decided to open the curious package he had been given. Inside the envelope he discovered several thousand Euros, more than he dared estimate, and was instantly grateful to the Austrian.
His watch read four o’clock, time to shower and change and then use his newly acquired skills to find his bearings around the town.
Stepping from the hotel Matt decided to test his training. Two phrases came to mind, mapping and spatial awareness. She had made him practice endle
ssly. First he had to memorise every avenue and alleyway in and around the town, including exit routes. If something went wrong he would have to find his way around the vicinity, without thinking.
Secondly he needed to acquire a thorough understanding of measurement and distance, between each street and potential exit point. He had to understand where these points led to and how long it could take to get there. Matt had already checked out the fire exits in the hotel, and was sure he could find them blindfolded if necessary.
Surveying the scene from the front door, he noticed the narrow alley immediately to his right running along the side of the gasthof. It would lead to the small square at the rear of the building, underneath his room window, he would later discover.
Matt chose to walk the twenty feet or so to the main street in front of the hotel and turned left, past the newsagent, where he counted twenty paces down the slight incline leading to the main square. On the other side there were two cafes and a bar pressed up against each other, so tightly packed it seemed they were deliberately huddled together to shield themselves from the cold.
A left turn took him through the square to the red painted building, the most expensive hotel in the village as revealed by the three high spec German automobiles parked in front. This led him to the back of his own hotel and he saw exactly where his room was situated. There was a short drop from the balcony onto the roof below, the restaurant, and another ten feet or so from the roof to the ground.
Next, he wanted to seek out the hotel boathouse down by the lakeside. He turned right and moved purposefully towards the waterside. The streets in this part of the town were narrow, with a series of smaller avenues leading off to all directions on either side.
By pure chance he caught sight of a shop, just off the first turning and looked through the window. He made up his mind quickly, though variety of choice wasn’t one of the shop’s keenest selling points. Matt used some of the money Johannes had given to him for the purchase.
Returning to the main path he made his way to the lake and turned left. This took him along the waterside, passing several other boathouses before he came to the one owned by the hotel. Matt retraced his steps and counted again.
I can do that blindfold now.
“How do you find St Wolfgang?” asked Johannes.
“It’s a beautiful place,” Matt replied, “I can see why you don’t want to live anywhere else. There was only one building I could see up for sale.”
“A single apartment,” confirmed Johannes. “It will not go unsold for long.”
“I hope you’ve been doing your homework, Mr Durham,” said Rosa and he nodded, as if in deference to a respected teacher. “Let’s see then,” she added.
A series of questions followed, after she asked him to close his eyes. Matt had to offer up descriptions of a number of places within the village. He provided detailed responses to every probing question. Street and shop names; the colours of buildings and the number of windows; entrance and exit points; ferry timings. He was picture perfect.
“I’ve taught you well,” she laughed.
He raised his hand to cut short her merriment and reached down to his trouser leg and produced the freshly purchased large, serrated knife from its sheath.
“Hmm, I have taught you well,” she said in admiration of his choice of weapon.
Offering the blade back to Matt, she then made her excuses to powder her nose. After Rosa disappeared into the heart of the restaurant the two men turned their attentions to the peaceful lake, its surface glistening under the moonlight. They gazed out of the window of the lakeside restaurant in silence, bar the noise from the water fountain in front coloured by the lighting of the roof bulbs shining from above. A few minutes passed before Matt turned to look at his host and break the tranquillity.
“Why transport?” he asked.”
“Austria is located in the heart of Europe. Most, if not all, goods traffic passes through the country to get from one side of the continent or the other. It is therefore the staple industry of my country. Shipping became a natural extension to the overland transportation of goods,” he shrugged.
Matt was impressed with his European companion, clearly a man of vision.
“Thank you for the money, Johannes. You have been very generous.”
The Austrian did not respond, appearing to have something else running through his mind. Matt waited for him to speak.
“Rosa likes you,” he said slowly, almost in a subdued tone of resignation.
The statement was not unexpected. Matt looked across the dark lake and thought carefully on the response he would give.
“Yes, she does,” he replied plainly. “However, it is you she is in love with my generous friend.”
Another pause came between them.
“Did you make love to her?” Johannes asked, without a hint of emotion.
Matt turned his head and stared the Austrian in the eye.
“No.”
His gaze never faltered.
Johannes clearly had it in his mind some form of physical attraction existed between the two, given the amount of time they had spent so close together and their behaviour since. He had been convinced something had happened between them. Even if it had been true, Matt would have lied. A half smile emerged on the Austrian‘s face, in relief as much as gratitude.
“I did sort of make one enquiry,” added the Englishman glumly.
He raised his shirt sleeve to reveal the extent of the heavy bruising to his upper arm. Johannes roared with laughter at the Englishman’s deadpan expression.
Matt was relieved to put Johannes’ mind at rest, pleased the issue had been raised and now resolved. He felt sure a tentative friendship had been secured.
Rosa was pleasantly surprised by her lover’s lighter and more relaxed mood when she returned. Whatever the slightly tense atmosphere she could sense between the two men before, it had appeared to lift in the short time she had been away. She peered questioningly towards Matt a few times during the evening as they chatted on. He smiled back on each occasion, without commenting, pleased not to have come between them.
They planned the next day. His two hosts would show him the sights of St Wolfgang and the surrounding area during the day. Catherine Vogel was set to arrive later in the evening because of work commitments. All three would attend, at the gasthof, where Matt would reveal the Milieu conspiracy. The big question, Johannes was convinced, were not so much if Vogel wanted to help more how she could engineer an audience for Matt with those States not involved in the conspiracy.
As the evening drifted by and the red wine flowed, fears over the unknown future diminished and the atmosphere became more frivolous. The friendship between the two men became fixed on this night and Matt was pleased his two companions had rediscovered their mutual affections. He envied their happiness, wishing he too had a companion by his side on this still and peaceful night.
At the evening’s end Johannes and Rosa retired to his home just outside the village while Matt returned to the third floor hotel room, to the quiet space.
He slept little.
The bedside lamp threw its light onto the white walls and ceiling, providing enough illumination for him to make out the four corners of the room as he lay quietly. His mind turned towards tomorrow evening and the hope this would mark the beginning of the end of the nightmare.
If everything went to plan, details of the Milieu conspiracy would soon be in the right hands. The following furore would cause international repercussions, stopping the project in its tracks.
And when it was over, then what?
There was no way he could return and resume his old existence. He no longer cared for it. Canada would have been a welcome option, though he was not sure he could face going back to constantly re-live old memories. All he did know was, when it was all over, he wished only for a quiet and peaceful life.
Gazing at the ceiling he could see no spider crawling along the surface. No-one was watching over hi
m, like in Canada. Apprehension invaded his mind, and a sense of foreboding crept into his soul.
Catherine Vogel, the name resonated around his mind like a glass marble in an empty sweet jar. He was sure he knew the name from somewhere.
In the morning, Johannes arranged for the trio to visit the hotel built on the peak of the Schafberg. The mountain stood almost six thousand feet up from ground level, the quickest access to the peak provided by the steam cog railway line.
As a rule the train didn’t carry passengers after October, the end of the tourist season. Johannes had exerted local influence to provide Matt with this treat.
“I will show you the beauty of Austria and the quality of its people,” Johannes had said.
Matt was introduced to Martin first, the regular train driver, a small wiry looking man with jet black short hair and a passive grin. He helped the driver load the boxes of supplies into the single carriage before they set off.
After passing through the edge of the village the route took them steeply upwards. The track was channelled through the mountain, such that all you could see during the first two thirds of the journey were large rocks and boulders on either side. The steep gradient of their ascent never allowed them to go much quicker than a snail’s pace. Fortunately, they were in no hurry and the gentle slow ride was, in its own way, relaxing.
Once they had reached the Schafbergalpe, the second stop along the way, the view began to open up and it was possible to get the first real glimpse of the surrounding meadows and forests. From there, it took a further ten minutes up the gently winding track to reach the end station, situated beyond a short dark tunnel which led onto a wide plateau.
Matt looked up to see the hotel, a further one hundred yards or so higher, built into the sloping mountain peak. It looked like the oblong shaped building had been raised by giant crane to the summit, and then pounded into the side of the mountain by an equally giant sledgehammer. The hotel was not so much built, as wedged into the rock of the peak.
To the left there was an additional structure, looking like a separate residence. Further along the ground sloped off before straightening and narrowing into a rocky spur, around one hundred yards or so away. Jutting out into the mountainous air, it offered a sheer drop from the peak to the valley below.
“Will you help me please, Matt?” asked Martin and he readily agreed.
Matt unloaded the boxes and then helped to carry them over to a pulley system on top of the tunnel. Once secured, Martin called up to the hotel in German and the supplies began to rise on the wooden pallet up the final incline.
“You did not have to help,” said Johannes, “Martin always looks for a way to reduce his workload.”
“Enjoyed it,” replied Matt. “Come on, I want to get to the top now,” and he led them briskly up the footpath, passing a small half roofed wooden structure on the way.
“What’s that meant to be?” he asked.
“Sty,” replied Johannes. “During the tourist season pigs are kept on the mountain, as are some other animals.”
“Wow!” said Matt once they’d finally managed to reach the viewing station at the peak of the mountain. “Is that stunning or what!”
Despite the lateness of the year the winter sun was shining brightly, lighting up the scenery of the region. As he turned full circle, no matter which way he faced, all he could see were lakes and mountain peaks spreading out far and wide into the distance. Matt felt like he was looking down and across upon the whole of Austria.
“Come,” said Johannes, “I would like you to meet some special friends.”
They strolled down the incline onto the concrete walkway and made for one of the wooden tables placed on a large patio area. Though approaching winter, it was warm enough to sit comfortably outside of the hotel.
A man and woman appeared from inside and approached the three friends with happy faces. The small jovial faced woman seemed particularly pleased to welcome them while the taller, lighter coloured haired man smiled politely.
“Johannes,” beamed the woman, “and his beautiful Rosa.”
She embraced them both excitedly with the tightest of bear hugs, and then turned her gaze on the Englishman.
“This is Martha and Gerhardt,” introduced Johannes, “the hotel owners. We have been very good friends for many years.”
“Matt,” he said, offering his hand to the ebullient woman.
“Matt? This is the English word for carpet is it not?” she replied with a frown. “What is your real name?”
Rosa gave out one of her throaty laughs at the unintended humour of the Austrian woman.
“Matthew,” she said. “His full name is Matthew.”
“Matthew it is then,” agreed Martha, smiling warmly.
They chatted for some time before the Austrian woman finally brought coffee. Matt was intrigued as to how such a hostelry could ever be financially viable, given its extreme and remote location. Apparently the place was highly used during the summer season.
“Everybody wants to sleep on top of a mountain for at least one night of their lives,” explained Gerhardt proudly.
Once the main tourist season was over the hotel was not as busy, used only by small numbers of winter hikers who would climb to the peak from time to time. On occasions, the place could be unoccupied by guests for a number of days.
“This is a good thing, Matt,” added Gerhardt. “I enjoy the peace and quiet, apart from Martha’s constant talking,” and she responded by clipping his shoulder with a clenched fist.
Martha soon found a way to bring the conversation back towards a favoured topic.
“So when will it be? When will you marry?” she asked directly. “Do not leave it too long beautiful Rosa. Although Johannes is the best of all men even he cannot wait forever. He nears an age when his seed will soon begin to weaken.”
Johannes laughed at her well intended enquiry while Rosa appeared embarrassed by the directness of Martha’s words, though said nothing. Johannes talked about his step sister, Eva-Maria, with almost paternal pride. His little Ariel was how he described her, after Disney’s Little Mermaid, because she could swim like one and had the independence of mind to match.
One day, Johannes hoped, he would have a daughter of his own. He needed a good woman first of course, but this would happen in time he had added and smiled at his girlfriend. The matter had clearly been a discussion point between them for some time. Her job had always made it impossible.
Maybe this is what had led Rosa to begin to question her old vocation in life. Her tepid enthusiasm for this project however, told Matt she had yet to fully agree with her partner. Perhaps she had seen too much of the darkness of this world, enough to make her wonder. Not that this stopped Johannes talking about having children and the wonderful environment St Wolfgang provided for them.
Matt couldn’t disagree. The place had a peace and serenity about it most other places would find difficult to match. And on a clear summer’s day, you could see for tens of miles in every direction. The natural environment all around felt wonderfully clean reminding him of Canada, the country he so enjoyed. It was clear Johannes felt the same way about his home country.
“Johannes enjoys life up here on the mountain,” said Rosa. “Whenever I call and he’s not at home I go to his lodge, in the hills to the west of the village, where he has a replica model of the railway. If he’s placed the toy engine at the top of the mountain I know exactly where to find him, every time.”
The Austrian smiled.
“A man can almost touch the sky up here,” he said. “Yet still be close enough to the ground to see what is happening below. There is no place in the world like it.”
Matt recognised the sentiment, understanding exactly what the Austrian was trying to convey. He felt as though he was in the presence of a kindred spirit, a man after his own heart.
“Sumac Pacha,” said Matt.
“What?” Rosa asked.
“An old saying of the true nativ
e peoples of the Americas, Beautiful Mother Earth is the English translation.”
He looked up to see Martha’s furrowed brow.
“Are you sure you are an Englishman?” she asked, and Rosa gave out one of her deep throaty laughs.
For the afternoon, Johannes treated them to a lake tour on the hotel speedboat. No more than a few minutes and they had reached Strobl, at the left hand side of the lake from the village. Then they went the full length of the water, all ten miles, across to St Gilgen. Matt kept remarking how placid the waters were, almost devoid of current. Johannes assured him it was very possible to drift across the lake. As they approached St Gilgen Matt caught a better view of the cable car leading up into the mountains, stretching up further than the eye could see.
The long wooden pier, pressed against the right side of the shore, had been constructed for the official passenger ferries. To the left sat a smaller wooden pier jutting directly out into the lake, suitable only for the mooring of smaller craft such as the speedboat they were travelling in.
Once onto land they strode briskly up the inclined street leading into the village centre, passing between the two tourist shops situated by the lakeside, and found a café for afternoon coffee.
The time passed quickly for Matt in the company of his friends. He listened to the stories of how the relationship between Rosa and Johannes developed and the Austrian’s madcap, and increasingly desperate, pursuit of her affections.
On their return across the lake to St Wolfgang, Matt considered the similarities between this episode of his life and the one he briefly had back in Victoria. That previous life ended in death and destruction. He prayed history would not repeat itself here in Austria.
Chapter Twenty Five
Lakeside Incident
The Milieu Principle Page 24
