Matt had slept little during the seemingly endless journey to St Wolfgang. He felt more than a little weary. His muscles ached through lack of use over the last day or so, making him feel uncomfortably hot and bothered. This led him to believe his priority should be an ice cold lager from one of the local taverns before he did anything else.
He was looking forward to meeting up with Rosa. With any luck, and the right opportunity, he would be able to properly explain to her the circumstances behind Jenna’s presence at his house in Victoria.
Strolling into the centre of the village, he couldn’t decide whether to stay in one of the local gasthofs or make for the hotel at the top of the Schafberg. The decision was taken out of his hands. It was the excitable voice that assaulted him first, quickly followed by the tightest of bear hugs from the diminutive owner of the voice, almost squeezing the air from his lungs.
“Matthew, Matthew, you have returned.”
“Hello, Martha. I see you’re fit and well,” he managed to gasp.
“Have you come to stay? Tell me you intend to stay,” she bubbled enthusiastically, refusing to release her grip around his waist.
“I can’t say anything until you let me breathe again,” he replied with a warm smile.
She relaxed her hold, raised her body up on her tiptoes and kissed frantically to both of his cheeks.
“Why did you not say you were coming? I could have prepared.”
“I didn’t want to put anyone to any trouble. A room in the centre of town is fine.”
“Nonsense, boy, you stay with us. Gerhardt and Martin will be delighted to see you once more.”
Martha had one of those personalities that drew a person in towards her. Motherly by nature, she was practically born for the role. One of those women who could make all your problems seem that little less daunting once she’d wrapped you in her warm embrace. There was something about one of Martha’s hugs which cocooned a person from the anxieties of everyday life. Matt was convinced if she were able to wrap her arms around the whole world, then all of the people on the globe would feel better for it.
The close bond between him and the diminutive Austrian woman had formed quickly once they had first met. He’d always regarded her with affection. Perhaps it was because his own mother had passed away while he was young that had him believing Martha was special. She had this capacity to partially fill a void in his life. Certainly, she possessed all the attributes a mother should have.
“This is a small suitcase you have beside you,” she said.
He paused before responding.
“That’s because I’ll only be here for a few days. I have a bit of business to sort out in Europe, and then I’ll go home.”
“Ooh, young men,” she muttered under her breath, “so stubborn, so very stubborn.”
“Martha, what are you chattering on about?”
“This is your home. Can you not see? Has it not entered your mind yet this is where you belong, in St Wolfgang?”
He reacted with a nervous laugh, trying hard not to offend the well meaning woman. He had considered it though, should he ever leave Victoria.
“You know I am right. I am always right. The women are always right.”
And then she gave him a broad smile and pecked his cheeks again.
As they walked down the inclined street towards the cog railway line, which would carry them the six thousand feet up the mountain to the hotel, Martha continued to chatter away. Throughout the gentle stroll to the station she refused to allow her arm to slip away from his waist. Already lugging a light suitcase in one hand, Matt’s other arm was propped over her shoulder where she held his fingers tightly with her free hand.
Normally Matt found constant, pointless conversation a nerve shredding experience. With Martha however, her excitable words sang harmonious melodies to his soul. In no time at all, he was feeling totally relaxed and comfortable at being here.
Martin’s face lit up the moment he saw Matt approaching the train station with Martha. The passive grin he usually wore disappeared in an instant, and he welcomed Matt with the most vigorous of handshakes. There was to be no question over where these particular passengers would be seated on the train, it would be the first carriage, close to the engine driver.
Matt remembered this journey well, recalling memories of a period in his life which now seemed an age ago. Once they’d passed through the edge of the village the train would move sharply upwards. The route was channelled through the mountain, so the most you could see on either side during the first two thirds of the six thousand feet journey were large rocks and boulders. The lack of scenery at least allowed the conversation to flow and they talked most of the way up to the Schafbergalpe stop, the last resting place before the peak. As the train pulled away for the last leg of the climb, Matt raised the subject on his mind.
“I have to call on Rosa at some point. I need her help with something,” said Matt.
“Rosa?”
He was surprised by the tone.
“Yes, doesn’t she live here anymore?”
“Her home is here, however she spends much of her time in Brussels. She holidays for the next two weeks.”
“I thought she was on permanent holiday these days,” he quipped.
Martha gave him a slender smile.
“She is away with Stefan.”
“Stefan?”
Martha saw the arrival of surprise in his eyes. He blinked, hoping she hadn’t read too much into his reaction and that he’d managed to recover the situation.
“They were introduced by Catherine Vogel several months ago, at a dinner held for one of her good causes, or some other thing.”
“Is that so?”
“Catherine has become quite attached to Rosa since Eva-Maria left.”
“What is Catherine’s daughter up to these days?”
“Of course,” said Martha sadly. “You do not know about Eva-Maria.”
Her eyes drooped into melancholy and he responded by giving her a quizzical look, curious over what she was about to say.
“Eva-Maria was on holiday with friends, in the South of France,” she began. “One night, she became separated from her people after leaving a nightclub in the early hours of the morning. The police found her body the next day.”
He was visibly shocked.
“That’s terrible, Martha. I had no idea.”
“Catherine refuses to say anything on the matter and I have never seen her grieve. This is not a good thing, not healthy for the mind. At first, she filled her days with work and only work. So Rosa took it upon herself to visit Catherine. They have been close ever since. Perhaps it was a time when they both needed someone to confide in. It was Catherine who introduced Rosa to the social circuit she now appears to find so compelling.”
“Maybe I should call on Catherine too, offer her my condolences.”
Martha looked into his eyes and smiled.
“I think she would welcome this. Catherine mentioned your name many times in conversation after you returned to Victoria. Presently she is on a six week fact finding mission to China. When you visit she might introduce you to Rosa’s new man.”
“You mean this Stefan bloke?”
“He is a nice boy, perhaps a little too confident of himself. He works as an adviser to the European Parliament and has acquired much wealth. Stefan is quite smitten with Rosa, and has asked her many times to accompany him to his villa in Italy. Until recently, she has always declined. Perhaps the trip to North America has cleared her mind.”
Matt turned his head away from Martha in a bid to hide his disappointment. She sat quietly and waited for him to return her gaze. He smiled weakly, causing Martha’s brow to furrow.
“Did she not tell you this when you met in Canada, last week?”
“She did pop across to Victoria for a short time, caught me at a bad time though.”
“A bad time, what is a bad time?”
He shook his head.
“It’s not important,” h
e said.
He could see a sense of confusion in her expression, which was rapidly dismissed as soon as her mouth stepped back into its stride.
“You must not tell Gerhardt, as I am sworn to secrecy, but Stefan has confided his hope to ask Rosa for her hand in marriage during their break. And I believe she is now ready to accept. I am so excited. Nothing can compare to an Austrian wedding.”
Her words were like an arrow to his heart, drawing the air from his lungs as if he’d received a blow from an angry fist to his solar plexus. Without thinking he raised a hand to his scalp and rubbed at it feverishly.
“Matthew, are you alright?”
“Yes,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry, Martha. Guess I’m feeling slightly jet lagged. It’s been a long flight.”
Her frown had returned, only it was deeper and more anxious this time. Matt knew he had to sound more positive.
“That’s really good news for Rosa,” he said, “though I confess to being a little surprised. I remember her telling me once she expected to end her days being known as the merry widow of St Wolfgang. So I just assumed ...”
“You speak in English riddles, Matthew. Why would you think like this? Rosa cannot live in the past. She must build a new life for herself, as you have done.”
“Yes, you’re right, of course,” he replied with a gentle smile.
Martha’s eyes darted to all parts of his face in an attempt to understand his words and read his mind. It took her a while to move the conversation along.
“Tell me about your woman,” she demanded, in the way only she could demand.
“What woman?” he replied with a slight laugh.
“Your woman, the one Rosa spoke of. She is a children’s nurse, correct?”
“Oh, you mean Jenna,” he replied with a broad smile.
“You have another?”
He started to openly laugh.
“Chance would be a fine thing.”
Through the corner of his eye he saw Martha’s perplexed expression, and decided to cut his humour short.
“No, I don’t have a woman,” he told her.
“But this nurse lives with you, does she not?”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.
“Jenna lives across the water. She came to the island to attend a wedding one day and stayed later than intended. So I put her up for the night. I’d forgotten how uncomfortable the bed in the spare room was. In hindsight, I should have made her sleep there.”
The conversation lulled as Martha sought to rationalise the information.
“Did you not say this to Rosa?”
He kissed at her hand again and grinned.
“Sometimes what you see isn’t real, but mostly it is,” he said.
Martha descended into silence once more.
“Yes,” she replied slowly. “Those were Rosa’s words.”
The train had by now wound its way to the open meadow and through the short tunnel leading to the final stop on the plateau. Matt looked up to their destination, about a hundred yard walk away up a steep embankment. It was exactly as he remembered it. The hotel still looked as though it had been hammered into the side of the mountain top by a giant with a huge sledgehammer. The owner’s residence stood square and proud some way to the left, just before the rocky spur which leapt out sideways from the mountain into open sky.
“You must tell Rosa I will be disappointed not to receive an invitation. If she accepts that is,” he said, climbing down from the train.
Martha was about to speak further on the matter when he quickly changed the subject.
“I hope you’ve decorated inside since I was last here,” he said.
She smacked his arm playfully and offered up a friendly scowl.
“But of course. Guests have to pay more because of this, so do not expect to sleep here as cheaply as before.”
“Yes, mother,” he quipped.
Chapter Ten
Gratia Fuchs
Milieu Dawn Page 9
