Tears of Autumn, The

by Wiltshire, David

  After that she crashed out and slept for ten hours straight, leaving a shaken Biff to open the window and smoke a cigarette, looking at the lights of the town below, and hearing the waves breaking on the faraway cliffs. He decided that he wasn’t a pervert after all, and that he’d like to do that again please.

  Chapter Eight

  The girls wore sunglasses and headscarves in the morning, and only really started to come to life after a stop for coffee and cakes on the journey back to Sorrento.

  Anna shook her hair free first, and then as Rosemary laid her sunglasses on the café table, said: ‘I’m sorry – did I misbehave last night?’

  Rosemary removed her scarf. ‘No more than anyone else.’

  She shot a guilty glance at Biff, who pretended to be interested in Konrad throwing stones into the sea from the shingle beach before them.

  Anna’s face lightened.

  ‘Oh – good. I’m afraid I can get carried away sometimes. I didn’t mean to drink so much. It just happened. I was having such a good time.’

  Rosemary nodded. ‘I know just what you mean.’

  As the coffee cups and saucers were laid out, and a plate of cakes set down, Anna said ‘Honestly, I feel I’ve known both of you since … childhood.’

  ‘Isn’t that strange. I feel that way too.’

  Rosemary was genuine; in Anna she had a friend she had chimed with immediately. She could easily convince herself that she had been at school with her, the bond felt so strong.

  Biff nodded at Konrad who had started back towards them, coming up the steps to their table.

  ‘I must admit, he is like the brother I never had.’

  ‘Brother?’ Anna chuckled. ‘That would make you my brother-in-law – yes?’ Konrad slumped into a chair beside her.

  ‘Biff your brother-in-law? How is that?’

  Before Anna could answer an embarrassed Biff said:

  ‘I was just saying, you’re like a brother.’

  Konrad grinned and gave him a punch on the arm.

  ‘I agree. Brothers – just so. We should see more …’ he stopped abruptly, his face clouding. ‘But we live in difficult times. We should not forget that.’

  Biff looked intently at him.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  With his blond hair bright in the sunshine Konrad took a second before replying, conscious that they were all looking at him.

  ‘All I mean is, the world is restless, is it not?’ He gestured at Biff.

  ‘No doubt you will have to leave England and go and fight somewhere in your Empire, India or Iraq, perhaps? And I for my part will probably leave my comfortable, boring job with the admiral; it must soon come to an end, and I could be floating off the coast of Africa, or Russia or some other god-forsaken place in a few months’ time.’

  No one replied immediately, the only sound was of the sea lapping on the beach. Biff found Rosemary’s eyes. They were troubled.

  He stirred himself.

  ‘Well, we chose to be sailors and airmen didn’t we, Konrad? Presumably because we didn’t want to be in offices all our lives.’

  Anna laid a consoling hand on Rosemary’s.

  ‘Don’t worry – look at these two. They will be all right.’

  She glanced at Konrad. ‘What do you think you are doing, depressing everybody?’

  He attempted to be jolly, rolling his eyes.

  ‘Sorry. I shall leave that to you as usual.’

  They welcomed the arrival of the coffee, joking again as Anna poured and handed round the cups. After the cake they all enjoyed a cigarette before getting back in the car and heading for Sorrento.

  But they lapsed into silence, broken only by the occasional remark at some passing scenic splendour.

  Konrad had caused a heaviness in all their hearts, put into words at last by Rosemary, looking across at Anna.

  ‘When do you go back?’

  Anna frowned. ‘What day is today?’

  ‘It’s Monday.’ Konrad had heard them and turned round in his front seat. ‘And we leave Saturday.’

  ‘Oh.’ Anna’s face fell.

  Both girls looked at each other.

  ‘Only four more days.’ Rosemary was crestfallen.

  Biff tried to cheer her up.

  ‘So let’s make sure we do things together from dawn to dusk.’ Konrad chimed in, trying to dispel the gloom that he had instilled in them all.

  ‘We drink champagne and we eat and we dance – every night.’

  As the car started to weave through the streets of Sorrento, past road sweepers cleaning up from Mussolini’s visit, it was decided. They would go to Capri, they would swim, more tennis, and visit the town for shopping and lunch together.

  By the time they turned into the hotel’s drive they had cheered up a bit. As they collected their keys and prepared to separate, they agreed on a time to meet out by the pool.

  ‘After the tennis competition, we shall now have a Germany against England swimming match,’ announced a beaming Konrad.

  In their room Biff untied his canvas shoes, took them off and collapsed on to the bed. Disconsolately Rosemary kicked hers across the floor, then flung herself down beside him.

  ‘Oh Biff, isn’t it sad? We won’t ever see them again, will we?’

  Biff put his arm around her.

  ‘’Course we will, darling.’

  But in truth, he realized that what Konrad had been trying to say was true. Whether or not there was a war in Europe, it would be difficult for them to pretend that they would be able to see each other regularly in the next few years, but he tried to cheer her up – and himself.

  ‘We might be able to arrange something, we shall have to see. I’ll have a word with Konrad.’

  She snuggled up to him.

  ‘Oh darling, would you? I’m so fond of Anna I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m going to miss her when they go. It’s so unfair. I know I’ve got all my friends at home, but Anna is just – well, we think the same way, we laugh at the same things.’

  He gently stroked her hair.

  ‘I know, darling, I know. Konrad could be one of the chaps in the squadron.’

  He meant to convey that he would trust him with his life.

  They were the first down at the pool, Biff diving in and doing a length and back before pulling himself out, his grey wool bathing-trunks heavy with water.

  Rosemary looked beautiful in a one-piece dark-blue costume with a thin white belt.

  ‘I’m not going in until Anna gets here.’ She waved her rubber bathing-cap in the air. ‘Speak of the devil, here they are.’

  Biff turned. Konrad was in a tighter, racier pair of trunks that made Biff feel positively old-fashioned.

  But it was Anna whom he couldn’t take his eyes off – or rather he did, but it was a struggle.

  She was slender, a little less curvy than Rosemary, but her shoulders were square and athletic, and her dark hair was shown up by the white swimming-suit made of some shiny material.

  ‘Gosh, you both look terrific.’

  ‘Flattery will not get you anywhere,’ laughed Anna as she pulled on her rubber cap and pushed up errant dark curls under its edge.

  ‘We are going to beat you in revenge for the tennis.’

  And they did, though Konrad and Biff were virtually equally matched, the former just getting his nose ahead on the last lap of the five they had set themselves.

  As they stood side-by-side, arms on the pool edge, Konrad wheezed.

  ‘You sure you are not in the Royal Navy, Biff?’ He shook his head. ‘You swim like a fish.’

  Biff had his little finger in one ear, trying to get the water out.

  ‘Not as good as you though, you’re more like a destroyer the way you cut through the water.’

  Konrad grunted. He almost said something but changed his mind.

  Rosemary had ordered a bottle of champagne on their bill; the waiter, already briefed, brought it out in a bucket of ice dressed with ribbons and a b
it of greenery which was supposed to be laurel.

  ‘To the victors – the swimming team from Germany – we present this trophy,’ Biff called aloud as the girls clapped. Heads turned, and a large man got up and ambled over with his camera, gesturing for Konrad and Rosemary, now with her cap off and blonde hair free, to stand on either side of the ‘trophy’.

  Konrad frowned, spoke in German to the man, who said something, and then looked quite surprised as Konrad gave a laugh, shaking his head.

  Puzzled, Rosemary asked Anna,

  ‘What did the man say?’

  Konrad pointed to Anna, then beckoned her to stand beside him and Biff to go with Rosemary, all the time addressing the man with the camera.

  Anna chuckled. ‘He is another German, Konrad met him earlier on. Very boring, a member of the Nazi Party and he doesn’t let you forget it.’

  Frowning, Rosemary said: ’I still don’t understand?’

  Anna turned to her, eyes alive with amusement.

  ‘He thought you were Frau von Riegner, not me, because you are so Aryan looking – with your blonde hair.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rosemary didn’t know whether to be flattered or not.

  Anna stood with Konrad, the ‘trophy’ in front of them, as the man held his camera steady and took a photograph.

  There was another exchange in German, in which ‘English’ was mentioned.

  ‘He wants to take one of you two now.’ Anna gestured for them to stand together. They were duly photographed, and then, with further joking and guffaws, they were photographed again, this time Konrad with Rosemary, and Biff with Anna. The man, who was of massive build, shook them all with a hand the size of a dinner plate before ambling back to his seat.

  ‘He is going to get his film developed tomorrow and he says he will give us a copy each, isn’t that nice of him?’

  Konrad was trying hard to keep a straight face. ‘He is very difficult to refuse, yes?’

  The champagne was popped as Rosemary whispered to Anna: ‘Still, they will be nice to have, won’t they?’

  That night they dined out in the town, in a garden of olive trees, under fairy lights and a full moon. They decided to walk home, Konrad escorting Rosemary, Biff with Anna on his arm.

  They stopped at a point where the road ran by the sea and, from a cliff top, looked at the moonlight shining on the water.

  Nobody said anything. It would have spoilt the moment.

  In the morning they caught the steamer to Capri. Whilst the girls sat in deckchairs and talked the two men walked the deck, taking in the salt-laden breeze and the hiss of the waves as they washed down the side of the boat. They ended up in the prow, looking at the mountainous island that was Capri, with at one end the sheer drop into the sea where the Emperor Tiberius had had people thrown to their deaths from his villa.

  They docked at the marina grande and took an open-topped ‘Capri taxi’ up the steep road that repeatedly bent back on itself, time and time again, until they reached the higher town.

  After wandering the alleyways they ended up in a little square, and celebrated with some pasta and a bottle of Chianti, before returning to the boat and sailing back again.

  Standing in the stern, Biff watched the island recede, white in the sun … white … white.…

  When he looked up he was surprised to see the nurse in her white overall looking down at him.

  ‘Mr Banks. Mr Banks. Come on, my love, it’s time to get you ready for bed.’ She never stopped talking as she got him to the bedroom and helped him undress and get into his pyjamas.

  Biff found himself in the bedroom being told in the nicest possible way: ‘Now don’t forget to brush your teeth properly.’

  She bustled off to fix his evening medicines.

  Fumbling as he squeezed out the striped paste on to his brush, he grumbled aloud: ‘Told to clean your teeth when you were eight and still being told, eighty years later.’

  After he’d done them and rinsed out, he splashed his face with the cold water.

  She was ready for him, plumping up his pillows and helping him into bed.

  ‘Now, are you quite sure you wouldn’t like something to eat? I could make you a sandwich.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘No thank you. I’ve eaten far too much today already – and besides,’ he flashed her a look of triumph, ‘I’ve already cleaned my teeth.’

  She shook her head in good-natured annoyance and clicked her tongue.

  ‘So you have. Well, here are your pills.’ She handed him a tumbler of water and loudly counted them out. ‘One, two, three?’ as he swallowed them.

  ‘I can count, thank you very much.’

  She ignored him; he was slightly cantankerous that evening. She’d got to know his moods pretty well over the last few months since she’d been brought in after the death of his wife. Normally pleasant, she had noticed recently that he had seemed absent at times, at others very slightly irritable. She would report it to the doctor, perhaps there was some slight brain pathology? She kept her mind open though, he was allowed to be grumpy at eighty-eight.

  She made sure he had his alarm call button around his neck before spending a few more minutes going around the house making sure everything was secure. He heard her tidying up in the kitchen before she came back into the bedroom.

  ‘Well, I’ll be off now. You’ve got everything – water, tablets?’

  She made the motions of tucking him up, and turned on the television.

  He nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

  Although she was a professional to her fingertips she had grown very fond of him.

  ‘See you in the morning then.’

  He said goodbye, listening as she slammed the front door, pushing at it several times to make sure it was shut.

  He turned off the television immediately.

  Silence descended.

  He turned to his combined alarm clock and CD player and selected a disc from a small rack of favourites.

  When he was sure it was running he turned off the light. The room was plunged into blackness, which slowly resolved into shapes picked out by the faint light coming from the curtained window. It had to be a full moon out there.

  The crooner’s soft voice floated in the room backed by the muted saxophones. It was recorded in 1938.

  Biff and Anna moved slowly around the room, her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music.

  It was their last night, out on the terrace, the orchestra in white DJs, the tables lit by little red lamps, the moon on the wane, but still bright above a placid ocean. Konrad and Rosemary were sitting the dance out and she had moved to be beside him, their blond heads close together as they talked.

  Anna whispered in Biff’s ear.

  ‘It’s very sad – parting, isn’t it?’

  He nodded. ‘We shall miss you.’

  When the dance ended he led her back to the table.

  She sat down next to Rosemary who mournfully said: ‘I can’t bear to think that you are off in the morning and we shan’t see you again.’

  Anna leant forward, forearms on the table, a finger stabbing at the white cloth. She looked around at them all.

  ‘No, let’s meet again this time next year.’

  She saw the doubtful looks in Konrad’s and Biff’s eyes, and added, frowning:

  ‘All right, I know it may be difficult, but we will try every year until we do.’

  Rosemary clapped her hands with enthusiasm. ‘Yes, and after five years, that would be in …’

  ‘October nineteen forty-three,’ grunted Biff.

  ‘Yes, then we make a very special effort.’

  Triumphantly Anna added, eyes flashing challengingly at the boys: ‘And if all else fails – even in October 1948, we must do it, we must meet again.’

  ‘We will,’ said Rosemary firmly. ‘Let’s exchange addresses right now.’

  With paper and pen supplied by the waiter they busied themselves with writing. Anna said as she finished with a flourish: ‘W
e live in Hamburg – and you?’

  Rosemary showed her the address, pointing with her pen at the paper. ‘We’ve rented a cottage. It’s in a little village in Essex called Tolleshunt D’Arcy – not far from London, about thirty minutes by train.’

  Biff and Konrad must still have been showing their unease, because Anna turned on them, especially her husband.

  ‘What is it now?’

  There was a glint in his wife’s eye that Konrad already knew so well.

  ‘All right, all right, I want to meet this Englishman again very much.’

  He gave a playful punch to Biff’s stocky shoulder. Not to be outdone Biff ruffled the German’s hair.

  ‘And I want to see him again before he goes bald.’

  They spent the rest of the evening talking about their holiday, and their time on the Amalfi trip. When they noticed that they were the last ones, that the orchestra was already packing up, they stirred themselves.

  ‘What time do you leave tomorrow?’ asked Rosemary, as she and Anna walked slowly arm in arm.

  ‘We have a taxi booked for seven o’clock.’

  ‘We shall come down to see you off.’

  Anna shook her head.

  ‘No, Rosemary, it’s far too early to be getting up on your holiday. We will say goodbye now.’

  ‘No – I won’t hear of it.’

  Whilst the girls argued Biff and Konrad walked quietly behind them.

  ‘Well, it’s come at last.’

  Konrad nodded at the girls. ‘Whatever they decide, I’d like to say goodbye quietly – now.’

  Biff nodded. ‘Take care of yourself, Konrad.’

  ‘And you too, Biff.’

  They glanced knowingly at each other.

  In the event, after a restless night, Biff and Rosemary were up and in the foyer of the hotel before Konrad and Anna appeared, watching as their trunk and cases were hauled out of the lift by the porters.

  Eventually Anna came down the stairs, dressed in a grey suit with a fox fur draped around her shoulders, a little netted hat on her head.

  It seemed strange seeing her in the everyday wear for a colder climate. They had only ever seen each other on holiday, and dressed appropriately.