by P. G. Glynn
Hugo, with all his talk of budgeting, couldn’t seem to comprehend this. So Otto saw it as his fatherly duty to take the boy in hand and show him how to be more relaxed about managing funds. What did it matter whether books balanced or whether money stretched to the end of the month? Some solution always turned up. It was odd that Hugo was such a worrier – and that he had insisted on being booked into an ordinary Pension rather than into the Sacher. Still, even the Pension Nossek am Graben would be a step up from a basement on Landstrasse in the Third District. Otto had obviously included himself in the booking. It would save on taxi fares to and from his lodgings if he stayed under the same roof as Hugo. Wonderful to think that he, Helena and the children would be here imminently!
“I might as well not have come,” Lenka grumbled, “for all the attention you’re paying me.”
“You wanted attention as well as the chance to greet my family?” he queried, his eyes on the gate through which the first passengers from Hugo’s plane were emerging. “If you’d only said so, I’d have told you to stay at home.”
“And you’d have paid for the taxi yourself, I suppose?”
“Either that,” he grinned, “or let Hugo pay for it both ways.”
“Have you no pride – or shame?”
Deaf to her question Otto exclaimed: “There they are! Look – over by the barrier. Hugo, Helena … ” Waving and calling, all too conscious of how much of his grandchildren’s development he had missed, he swiftly moved through clusters of bystanders toward them and the greetings began.
It was soon apparent that all three children shrank from kissing Lenka, who said: “You are afraid of me, yes?”
Their father having impressed upon them that they mustn’t utter the word ‘murderess’, the twins responded in unison: “We aren’t! We wouldn’t even be afraid if you’d mur … ”
“How are you, Tante Lenka?” Hugo quickly interrupted. “I must say, you’re looking well – and as youthful as ever. Let me introduce my wife, Helena.”
“So little Hugo grew up and became a husband,” Lenka said, tiptoeing to kiss him on both cheeks before kissing Helena and saying to her: “He also became very tall, didn’t he? It seems to be a trait of tall men that they marry short women.”
Suzy, who believed Nama implicitly but didn’t think Great-Aunt Lenka looked like someone who could commit a murder, turned her attention to Nandad and said: “It’s funny, isn’t it?”
“What is?” he asked her, bemused by the violet-blue of her eyes and the velvety blackness of her hair.
“That Nama saw us off from London and that you are meeting us here, in Vienna.”
“I wouldn’t describe that as funny, exactly,” he answered.
“How would you describe it, then?”
“As sad,” he said.
They succeeded in squeezing into a taxi that had three extra pull-down seats and soon the twins were more interested in looking for soldiers than in looking at Great-Aunt Lenka and trying to remember to keep quiet about her being a murderess. It was under the Yalta Agreement made between Churchill, Stalin and Roosevelt at the end of the war that soldiers still patrolled here, Austria having been divided into British, French, American and Russian zones. Vienna as a whole came under Russian rule, although the First District was within the jurisdiction of the Allied Commission, the four Powers taking turns to be Chairman of the Month. Residents hoped that the Soviets would soon reverse their position so that the Austrian State Treaty could become a reality and Vienna could revert to the Viennese. Nine years on from the war’s end, that didn’t seem too tall an order.
Smiling indulgently at his son, Otto told him when there was a gap in the boys’ excited chatter: “I’ve invited Lenka to dine with us tonight. I knew you’d want to repay a little of her hospitality to me.”
“Naturally,” Hugo said, despairing of both his parents. First there was Mama creating complications her end and now here was Papa issuing invitations and being generous at Hugo’s expense. “She’s very welcome. It’s reassuring for me, Tante Lenka, to know that you keep an eye on Papa and see to it that he doesn’t starve.”
“I’m glad that my presence helps you rest easy in your bed.” Lowering her voice then, so that the driver couldn’t hear her, she added: “Mine might be Nazi money, but your poor Papa’s in no position to be choosy as to whom he eats with.”
“What’s nasty money?” asked Daniel.
“She said Nazi, not nasty,” corrected Suzy.
“What’s the difference?” asked Robert.
“Nazi money has blood on it,” Otto told them, delighting in his grandchildren and their interaction.
“Whose blood – Carla’s?” asked Daniel, blanching.
“No,” said his father, thinking that the trip could hardly have got off to a worse start. “Ah, here we are, on the Graben!”
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It was exasperating trying to get through to Papa. Helena said he was wasting his breath and that there could be no changing a man of Papa’s age. But Hugo didn’t want to change him. He simply wanted to help him see that money was a hard won commodity.
Today, though, after visiting the Schatzkammer and seeing the Crown Jewels that had once been worn by Austria’s Emperors and Empresses, when he again broached the question of economy Papa had smiled wisely and suggested going to the Sacher Hotel for tea! Despite spending the past nine years in virtual poverty, Papa was obviously still wealthy in his thinking. How extraordinary this was … and how very hard on Hugo’s pocket!
“We shouldn’t have to scrimp so that he can live like a king,” he told Helena indignantly.
“We don’t have to do it,” she said. “We choose to … and even if we didn’t, he would still be kingly.”
“How do you mean?”
They were strolling in the Stadtpark with Suzy beside them while Papa romped with the twins. From Papa’s behaviour one could have been forgiven for thinking he was younger than they were. He entered into their games as if a small boy again.
“He perceives himself to reign over Vienna. Our sending money, or not sending it, makes no real difference to him. He’ll always live as if still rich. He is rich in all that’s important.”
“Why do we bother, then?” Hugo queried. “I mean, if it makes more difference to us than to him, why do we do it? And what are the important things that he’s so rich in?”
“We bother because you’d worry if we didn’t. Your father isn’t a worrier, whereas you are. Regarding his riches: he has learned to appreciate the air he breathes and how to live in the moment, which seems the best way to live, if we can master it.”
“Are you saying that he’s right in being profligate and I’m wrong in trying to live within my means?” Hugo asked tetchily.
“Of course not! All I’m suggesting is that where Papa’s concerned you save your energy. He is as he is – and just look at his happiness, getting to know the twins!”
“Nandad’s being pathetic,” Suzy said, watching his antics in teaching Robert and Daniel how to connect the tips of their tongues to their noses. “I can’t imagine Nama ever marrying him. She wouldn’t have, would she, but for Charles’s baby?”
Shocked to the core, Hugo exclaimed: “That’s a terrible thing to say! Even worse is the thought of what your grandmother must have been saying, for you to ask such a question. What has she said, altogether?”
“Nothing,” protested Suzy, stricken. “I worked it out for myself … and must have got it all wrong. I’m sorry, Daddy. Please don’t be any crosser with Nama than you are already.”
“Who’s cross with Marie?” asked Otto, momentarily bringing his attention from the twins to them. “Not you, Hugo, surely. You’ve enough to do, being cross with me over my budgeting inability!”
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Hugo was beginning to wish he hadn’t come to Vienna. Everything seemed to be going horribly wrong and he wasn’t making any progress with Papa. That was amply illustrated as they left the Capuchin church crypt, w
here the Habsburg Emperors were buried, when Otto said: “It’s a wonderful thing that one British pound purchases seventy-three Austrian Schillings! While reflecting badly on our economy, it must make you feel as rich as Croesus.”
“If you’d been listening to me you’d know that the favourable exchange rate simply enabled me to bring my family over for this holiday. Had it been less favourable I couldn’t even have considered making the trip. You might mock my need to budget, but if everyone lived like you do the whole world would be in a financial stew.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is, Papa – and the sooner you understand that, the better.”
“There’s something you need to understand too.” Otto smiled benignly at his son as they trailed behind Helena and the children, who were asking her questions about the nature of death. “One day we’ll all be in our tombs. When we are, what shall we have left behind - sweet memories of our former selves and a life well spent, or a sense of regret for the people we might have been and for lost opportunities? To my mind we’re wise to live each day as if there won’t be another. Then we don’t waste a moment in worry … or in judging others, or in self-analysis. Just give of our best and let God do the rest. Does that make sense?”
Hugo sighed. “In theory it does, except that in practice tomorrows keep coming and I’m a worrier. Why I am, when neither you nor Mama seem to worry … ”
“Could it be that we’re the chief source of your worries?” Otto interrupted with a grin. “Parents are often a problem, or so they tell me! And just as I am for you, you are for Suzy.”
Frowning deeply, Hugo queried: “Whatever do you mean?”
“She’s perplexed by your attitude to her beloved Nama.”
“Has she said she is?”
“It doesn’t need saying. Her perplexity is there for all to see – except that you aren’t seeing. You’re too wrapped up in your own misery to notice how miserable she is when the subject of your mother comes up. What’s happening to you, Hugo? Why are you so … so disapproving?”
“I’m not! Or rather, I don’t mean to be. I just feel … ” he clenched his fists, “as if neither of you has any sense of responsibility. And Mama acts as if she has some prior claim over Suzy.”
“Ah!” When Hugo glanced sideways at his father, Otto enlarged: “I’d wondered if that was it – Marie looking at Suzy and seeing Carla. So for you history is repeating itself and you are again competing for your mother’s affections, except that now you feel you’re competing for Suzy’s too. But that isn’t how it is.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. It’s only how you see it. Believe it or not, we choose how we look at things ... and how we deal with them. You’ve chosen to think in terms of competition when instead you could be thinking how wonderful it is that love is infinite. Just as you have so much in your heart that you’ll never use it all up, so does everyone. That always strikes me as being cause for awe – and for gratitude. Shall I tell you what else I’d be grateful for, in your shoes?” Without waiting for a response he went on: “Having a wife who’s deeply in love with you and who wants nothing more than your happiness. That in itself is beyond price, Hugo, especially as you are deeply in love with her too. It’s rare, I believe, for two people to love each other equally. So often there’s more love on one side than the other. Then there are your children – all three of whom are healthy and very beautiful – who look up to you and still see you as the epitome of everything they want to be. Before they grow up and begin to see you as merely human, my advice is to take stock of the example you’re setting them and ensure it’s the best you’re able to set. Once their childhood has gone you can never have this precious time back again. Hold on to the moment, Hugo, because in real terms we only have today.”
“Why are you speaking in German?” asked Suzy, materialising in front of them and regarding her grandfather quizzically. “Is it because you don’t want me to know what you’re saying?”
“No,” answered Otto with a grin. “It’s because I didn’t know I was. I often don’t know whether I’m speaking German or English.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly! What does that say about me?”
Looking at her father now, Suzy answered: “I think it says Nandad’s cleverer than he pretends, don’t you, Daddy?”
Feeling curiously enlightened by Papa’s philosophy and experiencing a great rush of love for the daughter who was currently studying him with anxiety in her eyes, Hugo – knowing that he must somehow show Suzy, the child, that loving Nama was not a crime - told her: “I agree. He’s probably the cleverest Nandad in history! Come on – let’s all go to the Sacher Hotel for tea, shall we?”
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They were in Beethoven’s bedroom and Suzy was hoping to see his ghost. Everything in the room was so old that she had not been surprised to read he had died a hundred and twenty-seven years ago. She didn’t know much about ghosts so couldn’t be sure whether he would still be haunting his old home.
“What are you doing?”
Suzy heard the husky voice and smelled Great-Aunt Lenka’s garlicky breath. Except that she must remember to leave out the ‘great’ when addressing her. The twins had been told off for leaving it in. There were so many things to remember, especially the fact that she was a murderess! Suzy shivered and said: “It will sound silly.”
“Not to me.”
“I was trying to see … Beethoven’s ghost.”
Lenka smiled. “I too have tried to see him, Liebling. I haven’t yet succeeded … but I have heard him.”
“His footsteps?” Suzy queried apprehensively.
“No – his music! You will know that he was deaf – so I expect he played his piano louder than composers with hearing. Which might explain how I once came to hear the echo of one of his concertos as I stood where you’re now standing. Listen hard and see if the same happens for you.”
Suzy listened intently but could hear nothing except her grandfather’s voice in the background telling the twins that Beethoven had only lived to be fifty-seven. “Nandad talks too much!” she said in frustration. “He keeps giving us history lessons.”
“You aren’t interested in history?”
“I am when I’m in London,” Suzy said pensively, “but then it’s Nama doing the telling.”
“Do you see much of your Nama?”
After looking round her to ensure Daddy was not in earshot, Suzy answered: “Not nearly enough.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because … ” she hesitated, unable to credit that she was on the brink of confiding something to a murderess she hadn’t confided to anyone before.
“Because?” Lenka prompted.
“Daddy doesn’t want me to see much of her. He says she was a bad mother.”
“That’s fascinating.”
“No, it isn’t. I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t know why I did.”
“It’ll be our secret,” Lenka said, hugging Suzy. Her hug was somehow reminiscent of Nama’s in the warm feeling it brought. “You can trust me, whatever anyone has said to the contrary. Don’t forget that I lived in the castle and know what went on there. I also know,” she whispered, “that lies are told about me when I am not present to defend myself. There’s little worse than a liar, Suzy.”
“Nama would never lie to me.”
“Perhaps not deliberately. But she can’t see inside my head or heart, can she? You need to hear my side of the story. Will you spend an afternoon with me, so that we can talk freely and I can tell you why your father feels as he does about his mother … and a little about the life that was lost in Schloss Berger?”
Feeling disloyal to Nama but too curious to refuse Aunt Lenka – as well as flattered that she was being treated by her like a grown up - Suzy threw caution to the wind and said: “Yes … if Daddy will let me.”
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Hugo had been hesitant in agreeing, before telling himself that Tante Lenka was now perfec
tly sane as well as the epitome of elegance and respectability. He must stop judging others and must leave the past where it belonged, behind him: not necessarily an easy task but he could achieve it. Papa had talked a lot of sense after their visit to the Capuchin crypt. Hugo intended to worry less and let the future take care of itself. He would miss Suzy when she went off with Tante Lenka but had no fears for her safety.
“Where do you intend taking her?” he now asked his aunt.
“To Schoenbrunn,” said Lenka.
“We’re going to the Prater,” chorused the twins, who were confused by their father giving permission for Suzy to be alone with their great-aunt after that warning from Nama. “It’s a ginormous funfair,” said Robert, with Daniel adding: “It even has a big wheel made from real railway carriages, and … and Nandad says we can ride on everything. So come with us, Suzy. You’ll be glad you did.”
“I won’t,” Suzy told him, “because I’m not coming. The Prater can’t be better than Battersea Park … and I’d far sooner see the summer palace where the Emperor and his Empress lived when it was too hot for them in the Hofburg in Vienna.”
“Pooh!” said Robert, pulling a face. “I wouldn’t.”
Daniel asked anxiously: “Aren’t you staying in Vienna, then?”
