The Foreigner

by P. G. Glynn

  “Australia!” Marie was shocked rigid. “That’s a ghastly thought. We’d be weeks on the ship and I’d be endlessly seasick. I’d also sooner be almost anywhere else, even … ”

  “ … Bohemia?”

  +++++

  They were travelling again, but Marie was finding to her surprise that she didn’t mind. Being on the move was actually preferable at present to being stationary … and there was relief in putting London behind her. Too many memories had come crowding in while she was based at Claridge’s – of Charles and the Tavistock as well as of Uncle John. She at least knew that her uncle was better off now, whereas she had no idea how Charles was faring … and her hands were tied because she had no means of finding him: none, at least, that she could pursue. So it was comforting in a sense to have left England and to be heading back to Schloss Berger – which, extraordinarily, seemed more like home than Beulah had proved to be.

  Strange that Uncle John had intimated her current destiny lay in a different direction from London! Recalling his words as she sat sunning herself on the deck of their Hamburg-bound boat, Marie said: “It’s as if, upon death, people know the future.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “In that dream I had of him, if it was a dream, Uncle John implied that buying a house in London just now would be a waste of money. And he was right, wasn’t he? We won’t be needing a house there until after Mama has met Hugo and I have my equilibrium back.”

  “He was and we won’t,” Otto agreed happily. Everything had worked out perfectly, even to the extent of Daisy having been willing to accompany them to Herrlichbach so that he had Marie to himself whenever she could bear to be parted from Carla. He could not fault his lucky star. “Perhaps, in that sense, the dead are better off than we are. Not,” he added quickly, “that I’m in any hurry to die and establish the facts of the matter first hand. With you and our children, I’ve far too much to live for. Have I mentioned that as soon as we reach Germany I’ll buy us a car so that we can travel home in comfort?”

  “You have … and you’re acting altogether as if made of money.”

  “Am I?” He tried to sound surprised.

  “You must be aware that you’re demolishing all those stories you used to tell about being hard up because of the money Ludwig had lost.”

  “Must I?”

  “Stop sounding like a parrot! Of course you must … unless you’ve suddenly come into funds?”

  This line of discussion was potentially worrying, so Otto protested: “Anyone would think that buying a car was a major expense. Don’t forget that we went to London expecting to buy a house, so I naturally took as much currency as was permitted – plus a bit extra – with me.”

  A sudden memory afflicted Marie. “Lucy!” she exclaimed in distress. “How could I forget that she’s relying on us? In all the rush to leave London I’d forgotten her completely. We must be back there long before September so that she can lodge with us as promised. I’m sure Nell will help in respect of chaperoning her for her audition.”

  “You’re assuming,” Otto said uncomfortably, “that Lucy will get into the Royal Academy.”

  “She’ll get in. She’s my sister, isn’t she?”

  “She is … and if she wants to act even half as much as you did, no setback will stop her becoming an actress.”

  “Lucy must have no setbacks … and don’t ever forget that my acting ambitions are not in the past tense.”

  +++++

  Lucy was feeding the chickens when she saw old Thomas-the-Post making a detour across the back lawn towards her. Straightening up, she greeted him asking: “Has my letter come?”

  “There is one for you,” he said, peering hard at the crested envelope instead of handing it over, “but it isn’t from that Academy in London. Looks to me as if it’s from your sister over there in Czechoslovakia.”

  “It can’t be,” Lucy told him impatiently. “Marie isn’t over there. She’s … ” Having almost snatched the letter, Lucy now stared at it unable to speak. The writing was Marie’s and the stamp was Bohemian.

  “Perhaps she and that foreign husband of hers had a change of plan, fach,” Thomas said, rubbing the side of his nose and trying to think of some words of wisdom. “There’s never no knowing with foreigners what they’ll do next. Don’t upset yourself till you’ve read what your Mary says.”

  “I’m not upset,” Lucy told him, fingering the envelope and showing no inclination to slit it open. “I’m just … surprised that she isn’t where she’s supposed to be.”

  “Wasn’t she meant to be stopping on in London so’s you could stop with her when you ?”

  “Yes,” Lucy butted in. “Forgive me, Thomas, but with you talking I can’t think.”

  “I’ll be off, then.”

  She watched as he went, ambling amiably along, knowing everyone on his round – and their business! – and known by them. Feeling guilty for having been short with him, she also felt relieved that Mam was in Abergavenny, giving Lucy some time to herself … time to read her letter without Mam looking over her shoulder asking why Marie had written to her sister and not to her mother. There was time, even, to go to her special place to do her reading …

  It did not deter Lucy that her mountain was shrouded in mist. Having crossed the canal via the bridge at the top of the village, she climbed and kept climbing until she had passed Mr Button the boot-maker’s cottage, below her now by the little stream. The mist was quite thick up here but she could see as much as she needed to see. And there was something comforting about being in a cloud, surrounded by sheep. Lucy was not sure why she needed to be comforted.

  She saw that some of the spring lambs were almost black and that that was not their true colouring. Would their mothers tell them to wash themselves in the stream … or didn’t ewes worry about muddy offspring?

  Lucy smiled. There had been so much rain lately that Mam kept complaining about the mud brought in. Since everyone knew better than to enter Beulah with outdoor shoes on she didn’t see how Mam could have grounds for such a complaint, but then Mam didn’t need grounds necessarily. Grumbling about things was just her way.

  Funny how different everything looked from the top of a mountain, even when one could not see for cloud! Up here thoughts and feelings became clearer somehow … and there was less apprehension about reading Marie’s letter.

  Sitting on a grassy hummock Lucy extracted the embossed envelope from her coat pocket and, after again studying its family crest and foreign stamp, inserted her thumb to open it up. Slowly unfolding a large sheet of cream notepaper covered on both sides with Marie’s familiar bold handwriting, she then read:

  ‘Dearest Lucy

  I hardly know how to begin. You will have seen that I’m back in Bohemia. I’m almost as surprised to be here as you must be to see that that’s where I am. It all happened so quickly that I don’t seem to have drawn breath yet.

  Still tired from my long journey, I’m writing while the maid is unpacking our trunks. You’re the first person I’ve written to, because you’re the most important in the sense of my commitment to you and your future studies at the Royal Academy. Believe me, I’m just as committed now as I was in Gilchrist … and plan to be back in London well before your term starts in September.

  But the manner of darling Uncle John’s death affected me badly and Otto thought it best to put distance between us and London for a few months. I think he was possibly right in that I’m already seeing recent events from a different perspective. So everything will turn out well in the end and I’ll make arrangements with Nell regarding your audition. As soon as a date has been set, let me know, and I’ll ask Nell to act as your chaperone. I’m sure that she and Mrs Sedgwick will also be happy to welcome you for a night or two to their extraordinary home in Dalmeny Avenue. You’ll love it there, just as I do.

  I’m so sorry not to be meeting you off your train and taking you to Gower Street for your audition, but I acted in haste and am now paying. Having lef
t London without thinking things through I now have you on my conscience as well as a shock to contend with this end. You’ve never met Ludwig and Lenka, so can’t imagine just how shocked I was to find them installed again in Schloss Berger. Lenka had been gone from here so long I’d virtually forgotten about her, but they’re both back from Berlin and there’s open hostility in the air. I don’t think either of them can forgive Otto and me for having two children when they haven’t yet managed to have one – and it especially upsets them that Hugo’s a son. That makes him heir to Schloss Berger, you see, unless Lenka can conceive. Oh, happy families!!

  Please, dearest Lucy, forgive me for being absent when you audition at the Academy. I’ll never let you down again. Ensure that you don’t let my current absence stand in the way of your future as an actress. Be strong, if necessary, with Mam.

  Fond love always

  Ever your wayward sister – Marie’

  After reading the letter twice, Lucy folded it carefully and then put it within its envelope back in her pocket. She went on sitting where she was, not noticing that her skirt and knickers were damp from the wet grass, or that the sun was beginning to penetrate the mist. She sat very still, thinking.

  She had hardly known Uncle John, whom Mam had dismissed as a useless drunkard. She could solely remember meeting him once, when she was very young, but had grown up with Mam’s opinion of the family’s ‘black sheep’ … and now had to admit that that had affected her thinking more than a bit. Lucy thought back to the lambs that were almost black from the mud they’d been playing in. They were white underneath but she might easily just have seen that they were muddy. Mam would most likely just have seen mud, whereas Marie would have looked beneath to see their true colour. This was one of the umpteen differences between Mam and Marie. Mam saw the surface while Marie – who, Lucy knew, had loved Uncle John deeply - saw much further. As for Lucy – what did she see?

  For the first time it occurred to her that whatever she saw must be seen with her own eyes and nobody else’s. She must be herself, not strive to be a replica of Marie.

  She could never be her sister, no matter how much she admired her. She could not do the things Marie did, nor go where she went, and it was wrong to want to. Lucy certainly would not want to be in Bohemia with a sister-in-law like Lenka! Nor was she brave enough to take centre-stage. She was not even sure that she was brave enough to leave Wales …

  If she was honest, since sending off her application to train at Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree’s Academy she had been half-dreading the letter that would tell her when to go to London for her audition. The thought of standing in front of strangers and performing two monologues scared her clean out of her wits … and now, perhaps, she wouldn’t have to do that.

  Mam would never agree to Lucy staying with the Sedgwicks. And even in the unlikely event that she did, Lucy would never get through the audition because she was a mouse, not a lion. Better not to do it than do it and have to tell everyone she had failed. She couldn’t face failure and didn’t want to be a poor copy of Marie.

  She wanted to be Lucy and to live among mountains and among people who knew her, even if it meant being a boring dressmaker. Living with Marie would have been lovely but Lucy was not so sure about living far from home in an unfamiliar place with hidden dangers. Going to London might have been a big mistake! She would write today telling Marie so, and telling her not to feel bad on Lucy’s account about being back in Bohemia.

  +++++

  Mama Berger could not understand Marie’s reaction. “Why shouldn’t I give my granddaughter a puppy?” she asked her. “You can see for yourself how much Carla and Bobo love each other.”

  “I can,” Marie agreed, as the two babies played in the shade of the lime trees, “and I can also see that Bobo keeps licking Carla and giving her his germs. The point I’m trying to make is that she’s my daughter, not yours or Lenka’s or, for that matter, Anna’s … and that I must be consulted before any of you three make decisions affecting her welfare.”

  “Bobo’s licks won’t hurt her,” Marta said mildly, thinking that Marie was over-reacting as ever. “Being too protective of them is bad for children.”

  “You’re missing my point completely! The issue is that if anyone gives my child a puppy it should be me … and that an Alsatian is the last breed I’d choose, if I were choosing. You’ve absolutely no right to go over my head and present Carla with him as a fait accompli.”

  “No right? But I am her Omama!”

  “Yes – and Lenka and Anna are her aunts. That’s all you are, whereas I am her mother … and the one to decide what’s good or bad for her.”

  The two women were sitting with Anna in partial sunshine on the western side of the castle. Otto and Rudolf had gone off for a walk and Ludwig and Lenka were taking their siesta. Since returning from Berlin those two had made much of going to bed after luncheon. Mama hoped they would soon complete Lenka’s cure by making the baby she so longed for. “You want to part them,” she said, “now that they’re such friends?”

  “No,” Marie sighed, watching as Carla wrapped her arms round Bobo’s neck, hugging him and chatting happily. “Parting her from him now would cast me in the role of spoilsport, which isn’t at all how I wish my daughter to see me.”

  “Of course it isn’t,” Mama agreed, “and that isn’t your role by any means. But have you thought, my dear, how having a dog of her own will help Carla if ever she feels left out on account of all the attention shown to Hugo?”

  “As well she might, considering the favouritism lavished on him.”

  “That’s unfair. He’s nobody’s favourite … but it must be remembered that he is the Berger heir.”

  “As if anyone could ever forget!” Marie snorted. “Since bringing him here I’ve been made to feel as if I’m nothing to do with him. This family monopolises him to such a degree that I frequently have to remind myself who his mother is.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating, rather … and mistaking our very natural joy and pride in Hugo for a takeover bid. Then again, it’s important for him to be brought up from the very beginning to understand the degree of his responsibilities and learn how to shoulder these. Our family fortunes will, after all, one day depend on him.”

  “Schau mal an!” said Anna as Bobo playfully bowled Carla over, only for her to make a token protest and stand up again on wobbly legs. “They are best friends, yes?”

  “So,” said Lenka’s husky voice from behind them, “I’ve found where you’re all hiding. Daisy told me I’d probably find you here.”

  “We’re hardly hiding, sitting in the garden large as life,” Mama said patiently. “Where are Hugo and Daisy? It’s almost time for his next feed.”

  Deciding against mentioning that she had found Daisy in the arms of one of the under-gardeners, with Hugo’s pram parked beneath a nearby tree, Lenka answered: “He didn’t seem hungry … but I reminded the girl of her duties, so she has taken him up to the nursery.”

  “It isn’t your function to remind her of anything,” said Marie tartly. “My giddy godfathers, what’s wrong with this family?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with us,” Lenka told her, thinking it ridiculous that Mama, Marie and Anna all wore hats with big brims to keep the sun from their complexions. In summer she never wore a hat and seldom more than a sleeveless sundress – although often less! “You are in the wrong, for being so possessive. Children are not possessions and you’d do well to remember that.”

  “And you’d do well to remember that before the summer is over I’ll be bringing my children up in my own country, which still won’t be far enough from the Bergers.”

  “Now, now, you two!” Mama said soothingly. “There’s no need for you to argue, nor for Marie to make threats she doesn’t mean. We can surely all live together harmoniously and see each other’s point of view. Believe me, there’s much to be said for living in harmony … ”

  +++++

  Otto wanted above all else t
o make Marie happy. But she was not settling very well and had now told him to stop buying her things, especially jewellery. Lenka had commented that, considering the number of jewellers Otto had recently summoned to Schloss Berger, Marie’s collection of jewels must rival that of the last tsaritsa and she was not far wrong, yet he had stopped summoning them in accordance with Marie’s clearly expressed wish. She was all too succinct when telling him that she’d had more than enough unsolicited gifts … and family interference.

  She was already looking ahead to when they would be leaving Herrlichbach again and he could hardly tell her the truth of the matter. Hard to imagine her reaction to the fact they were now here to stay – except for periodic holidays! That did not bear imagining, given Marie’s temperament and her determination to return to the stage. When Lucy’s letter arrived, telling of her decision to forgo the audition, it had seemed to him as if things were going his way just as they always did. But he had been reckoning without Marie’s plan to go back to acting … and without her mounting chagrin over the behaviour of the other Berger women. She could not seem to see that Mama and Anna – and, yes, even Lenka – were simply expressing their love for Hugo and Carla. All she saw was that they ‘interfered’ and undermined her role as the children’s mother. Otto must help her see things differently – and the task required vast reserves of ingenuity.

  As soon as he spotted the Selve he knew he had found his immediate answer. He had never previously seen a two-seater quite like this one, in sporty red with swish black running boards and soft leather upholstery. Open-topped, it also boasted a folding hood to protect the driver and passenger in bad weather. Today, though, beneath a cloudless blue sky, conditions were ideal for a drive. Here was a motor-car quite clearly meant for Marie …