Becoming Lola

by Harriet Steel

  Contrition overwhelmed her. What if her demands had caused his illness? She came over to where he sat and touched his cheek. ‘Oh my poor Luis,’ she murmured, ‘I am so sorry. But why did you try to keep me away?’

  He looked startled.

  ‘You do not mind this - this repulsive affliction?’

  She bent down and kissed his forehead. ‘You are still the dear man I love and respect above all others.’

  Tears sprang into his eyes.

  ‘What do your doctors say?’ she asked.

  He sighed. ‘It is a malady that has troubled me before. They say what they always say: I must rest and let it run its course.’

  ‘I’ll speak with my own physician. Perhaps he can think of a way to help you. Meanwhile I’ll come every day. We’ll read and talk together like we used to do, just the two of us.’

  She picked up the book that had fallen on the floor and sat down in the chair beside him. ‘Don Quixote. How many happy hours Cervantes has given us. Shall I read to you now?’

  The tears rolled down his cheeks. He knelt before her and rested his head in her lap.

  ‘My darling Lolita,’ he said in a cracked voice, ‘just the sight of you makes me better already. How did I ever think I could live without you?’

  She smoothed his grizzled hair. All was not lost: he still loved her.

  Chapter 27

  The house in Barerstrasse was ready at last. Even General Heideck, still tormented by the avalanches of bills that brought the cost to a total far larger than agreed, had to admit the result was magnificent.

  Through windows that reached from ceiling to floor, the spring sunshine streamed into elegant rooms frescoed in the style of ancient Rome or painted with scenes from Don Quixote. A fountain decorated with marble dolphins played in the entrance hall and a crystal staircase led up to Lola’s boudoir on the upper floor. Ludwig had made her presents of a valuable Etruscan vase from the Royal Collection as well as an outstanding copy of a Raphael Madonna and a piano with exquisite silver and brass inlays.

  There were few distractions to disturb them during his convalescence. The prospect of opportunities for even greater privacy now she had her own household excited Ludwig. He kept the model of her foot close by. When he touched the smooth, cool stone, his blood quickened.

  By the end of April, he felt well enough to appear in public once more. The city had returned to a semblance of normality but he was aware that trouble might flare again at any moment. Although he spent all his spare hours with Lola, he took care not to neglect his duties. Lola left him in peace on the subject of her title and contented herself that he commissioned the court artist to paint her portrait. The finished painting was hung in the palace gallery.

  *

  Summer came and the queen left Munich to take the waters at Franzenbad. On the second evening after she had gone, Ludwig and Lola spent the evening together at Barerstrasse. In the Don Quixote room, he read his poetry and she listened, occasionally praising a line or suggesting an alteration.

  At midnight, the time when he usually left her, he closed the book.

  ‘You look tired,’ she said with a gentle smile. ‘You should go home and sleep but promise me you will come back tomorrow?’

  A muscle worked in his cheek. ‘I do not have to leave.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He took her hands and clasped them to his chest. She felt the hard edges of the gold buttons on his coat. A faint apprehension flickered through her. Something had changed. She sensed that if she sent him away, she would regret it. She knew what she must do. She leant forward and kissed him tenderly. ‘Then stay.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. I am going to my room now. Come to me soon.’

  *

  When he woke the next morning, he marvelled that she was there beside him, her dark hair spread over the lace-edged pillows. Where the sheet had slipped down, he saw the curve of her breast. He put his lips to the dark aureole of her nipple. She stirred and he drew back.

  ‘I hope the old fiddle played a good tune,’ he asked shyly.

  She smiled and stroked his cheek. ‘Dearest Luis,’ she murmured, ‘you need have no doubts about that.’

  ‘I am not a young man. I was afraid I would not . . .’

  She put a finger to his lips. ‘No man can compare with you. You are everything to me.’

  So it was done at last, she thought as her maid dressed her hair after the king had gone back to the palace. She had made him happy. Perhaps tonight would be a good time to remind him of his promise of the title.

  ‘I will be the Countess of Landsfeld,’ she whispered.

  She touched the small bruise at the corner of her mouth. After last night, he might want more but she would have what she desired first. She deserved it. Let people call her selfish if they wanted: she didn’t care. No one knew how much suffering and disappointment had brought her to where she was. If people would not be her friends, then they must take the consequences of being her enemies.

  Chapter 28

  It was a fine summer evening and, as the king was engaged at a state banquet, Lola invited some of her new friends from among the students to a party. The windows to the gardens stood open to cool the rooms and the scent of lavender and roses drifted in on the breeze.

  Dressed in a loose, ivory silk robe, she lounged on one of the sofas in the drawing room, smoking cigarillos and laughing and talking with her guests. Halfway through the evening, two young men joined the party. She knew one of them but the other, tall with thick, dark hair and a handsome profile, was a stranger to her.

  She turned to the student beside her. ‘Who is that?’ she asked.

  ‘Fritz Peissner. He is in the Palatia fraternity as I am but he’s far more important than me. He holds the office of senior, while I am a mere foot soldier.’

  ‘Why haven’t you come to visit me before, Fritz Peissner?’ she asked with mock severity when his friend brought him over to introduce him. ‘I am offended.’

  He flushed. ‘I had no wish to offend, Dona Montez.’

  ‘I’m teasing you. Come, sit beside me and we’ll make up for the time we have lost.’

  ‘Thank you.’ His air of grave courtesy charmed her.

  ‘I often wish I were a man,’ she remarked after they had talked for a while. ‘It must be marvellous to study at the university and belong to one of the fraternities. We poor women are denied the camaraderie you men enjoy. It seems very unfair. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘I am sure you would be an ornament to any fraternity.’

  ‘I insist you join ours,’ his neighbour joked. He took off his cap and gave it to her. She put it on her head at a jaunty angle.

  ‘How do I look? What do you think, Fritz Peissner?’

  He swallowed and avoided her eyes.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  His colour deepened. ‘Forgive me, I may have misled you. It is forbidden for anyone outside the Palatia to wear the cap.’

  The student who had given it shrugged. ‘Don’t be a bore, Peissner.’ Wine slurred his words.

  Lola saw the other students who still had their wits about them exchanging uneasy glances. So this business of fraternities was far more important than she had realised. She removed the cap and handed it back.

  ‘There,’ she said gaily. ‘I have been a member of your fraternity for a whole minute. That is enough for me.’

  She smiled at Peissner and took his arm. ‘You are quite right: the fraternities should be respected. I’m glad I will be able to rely on you to correct me when I need it. We will be great friends, I know it already. May I call you Fritz?’

  Peissner nodded and she noticed how sweet his smile was.

  She tapped his arm with her fan. ‘And you must call me Lola.’

  She kept him beside her for the rest of the evening. When the party ended in the small hours, he was one of the last to leave. Lola walked to the drawing room door with him.

  ‘Come again
soon, Fritz Peissner,’ she smiled. ‘Come whenever you wish.’

  *

  The time came for the king to leave Munich and join the queen for the rest of the summer. ‘Every day will seem like a year,’ he sighed when he said goodbye to Lola.

  ‘I’ll write you a hundred letters. Parting will be agony for me as well. At least you will have the distractions of the court to amuse you.’

  ‘I doubt there will be much amusement.’

  The next morning, when he had left, she sat down to pen a note to Peissner. What harm would a little flirtation do? She could still make the king happy and she would be discreet.

  Ludwig wrote every day, giving her minute details of his daily life. In one of his letters, he begged her to send him something she had worn next to her skin. She smiled at the thought that if she and Fritz had gone a little further down the path, and had he been more worldly, the choice of what to send might have proved a diverting game for the two of them, but she didn’t want to frighten him away. As it was, she mentioned it to no one when she ripped up her scarlet petticoat and drenched some of the pieces in Ludwig’s favourite perfume.

  Kiss these for me until we are together again, she wrote. They have touched the places I know you love the best. She paused a moment then added: Can it be barely a year since we first met? I cannot imagine what I lived for before then.

  A week later, the letter she received in return made her heart leap. It read: This morning I wrote the order to prepare your nomination as countess so that it can be ready on my birthday. Until the day of publication, it must remain secret but after that, I will tolerate no objections for I can do without the sun above, but not without my Lolita shining in my soul.

  She let out a cry of joy and clasped the letter to her. It was done: he had defied his ministers for her sake. She skimmed over the cautious advice the rest of the letter contained. There was no need to take much notice. She would conduct herself as she wished. What use was there in being a countess if one had to spend all one’s days pretending to be invisible? Ludwig would soon see he need not worry. The Bavarians loved him. Now he had shown the way, they would love her too.

  It was a Sunday and she drove to church to give thanks for her triumph. All the bells rang out and the city sparkled in the sunshine. Afterwards, she gave a splendid dinner for her students. There would be plenty of time to entertain Munich’s elite later.

  *

  Court festivities occupied most of Ludwig’s time in the weeks leading up to Christmas and Lola saw little of him. It was not her only cause for discontent. Even though he had at last openly conferred the title of countess on her, the queen still refused to receive her and her invitations to Munich’s aristocracy went unanswered. Nevertheless, she rallied and planned lavish festivities with the Thierrys and those of her students who had remained in Munich for the holiday.

  On New Year’s Eve, she gave a party. She intended it to do more than ring in the New Year. It would also be an occasion to mark the creation of a new fraternity. It was of special interest to her, for it had been formed in her honour.

  Quite a feather in my cap, she thought gleefully. She had discovered such a step had no precedent. It showed how much her students wanted to please her. Peissner had not opposed it, although she guessed that of all of them, he was the one who had had the fiercest struggle with his conscience. The fact he had given up his position in the Palatia to join confirmed just how fervently he admired her.

  By midnight, many toasts to the Alemania – as the fraternity was called – had been proposed and drunk. Heads were muzzy with champagne; fires blazed in every grate and the windows were closed against the freezing night air. Flushed with wine and heat, many of the students had removed their thick, woollen breeches and were sauntering about in their shirt tails.

  As the chimes died away, Lola felt weariness overcome her. She looked around for Fritz, but could not see him in the smoky drawing room. He had been drinking heavily earlier in the evening. Perhaps he had gone outside for some air. A tremor of guilt went through her. She had paid him very little attention although at the outset of the party she had intended something very different. After the sacrifice he had made, he must claim his reward. She smiled to herself and thought that he could have done so weeks ago if he had not been so diffident.

  With a murmured excuse, she left the group she was with and went to the glass doors that led out to the balcony. Through the frost that filigreed their panes, she saw him standing in the freezing night air, his back to her and his shoulders hunched. She went out and joined him at the balustrade. Above them, a million stars twinkled.

  ‘I think you are angry with me,’ she said.

  ‘Angry? Why would I be angry?’

  ‘You have ignored me all evening.’

  He grunted. ‘You seem to have found plenty of other people to talk with.’

  She reached across and stroked his cheek. He trembled as she ran her fingers down to touch his lips. ‘I don’t care about any of them. All I want is to be with you.’

  His voice was full of longing. ‘Ach Lola, is that really true?’

  She put her lips to his ear to whisper her answer but before she had time to do so, a shout went up behind them: ‘Lola! Lola! Here she is!’

  She swung round and found herself in the arms of two burly students. They hoisted her onto their shoulders and carried her back into the lighted room. The other students formed a procession behind them, some banging gold plates together like cymbals, others blowing across the lips of empty champagne bottles to make a rhythmic drone. The rest flourished their red caps and sang their new fraternity song.

  Giddy, she looked down at the expensive furniture and priceless ornaments yards below her. ‘Take care,’ she shouted, ‘you will break everything.’ But the excitement was infectious and she was soon laughing and singing herself. Then suddenly, flames danced before her eyes and heat stung her face. Her head struck the heavy, crystal pendants of the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling. She smelt something singeing and realised it was her own hair. She screamed but the students were too drunk to see the danger, then there was darkness.

  When she regained consciousness, she lay on a sofa. Anxious faces loomed over her. Dazed, she put her hand to her forehead and felt the stickiness of blood.

  ‘Lola, for God’s sake, speak,’ the voice belonged to Fritz. With difficulty, she opened her eyes. His face was very close to hers, the fear in his expression was palpable.

  She tried to smile. ‘Dear Fritz,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll be all right in a moment, but promise you won’t leave me?’

  He smothered her hands in kisses. She saw he was on the verge of tears. ‘Thank God,’ he mumbled. He turned to the others. ‘Get a doctor, you fools. Hurry!’

  By the time the doctor arrived, the students had collected their discarded clothes and dressed themselves. Fully conscious now, Lola lay propped up on a bank of cushions. Fritz held a pack of ice to her head.

  The doctor examined the wound with practised fingers then opened his bag. ‘It is a clean cut, a few stitches and you will be as good as new.’

  She gave him a mischievous smile as he threaded his needle. ‘Then I must bang my head more often.’ She didn’t complain as the needle pierced her skin. Fritz watched her with adoration in his eyes.

  *

  A few days later, she made a place for him beside her at her evening gathering.

  ‘You were so kind to me the other night,’ she whispered, touching his hand. ‘I’d like to thank you properly. When I send the others home, make some excuse to stay.’

  ‘Lola, I . . .’

  ‘What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?’ She leant closer. ‘I thought you loved me, Fritz.’

  ‘I do,’ he stammered. ‘I worship you.’

  ‘Then what is the problem?’

  He flushed. ‘I’ve never…’

  She squeezed his hand. How attractive his confusion was.

  ‘Then I will show you how,’
she murmured. ‘And I promise it will be all you have dreamt of and more.’

  It was past midnight when the rest of the students departed, leaving Lola and Peissner alone. She poured him another brandy and left him to drink it by the fire.

  She had sent her maid to bed earlier in the evening. In her room, she brushed out her hair and changed into a silk peignoir. She went to the door and called to Peissner. Tentatively, he came into the room and she held out her arms.

  When they embraced, the ardour of his kisses thrilled her. They stumbled to the bed and he tore off his clothes; her peignoir fell open. She took his hand and guided it over her body. ‘Touch me,’ she whispered. ‘Here - and here – and here.’ His fingers caressed the moist heart of her clitoris. She moaned with pleasure. How good it was to be with a man who aroused her once more. ‘You learn quickly, Fritz Peissner,’ she murmured.

  Suddenly, she frowned. ‘Why have you stopped? What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m afraid of hurting you.’

  She laughed softly. ‘Don’t be: pleasure and pain are not so far apart. Come into me now.’

  He was young and vigorous. Lola’s every nerve crackled as he plunged deeper and deeper. They reached the height together and she floated in a warm sea of sated bliss, but then as she lay in his arms, she realised he was weeping.

  ‘Oh Fritz, what is it? Didn’t you like it?’

  With a shaky laugh, he wiped his eyes. ‘Ach Lola, you are an angel. Of course I liked it - I think I liked it too much.’

  Chapter 29

  That year, the short days of January didn’t oppress Lola’s spirits. She was happy with Fritz and her happiness spilled over into her time with Ludwig. There were no more raised voices or broken vases. The hours they spent together were some of the best they had ever enjoyed. Ludwig’s contentment convinced her she had no need to reproach herself and, with a clear conscience; she dismissed Fritz’s own doubts.