Katerina's Secret

by Mary Jane Staples

  ‘Yes? It isn’t dull? You would really like to play again and then have tea?’

  ‘If you’ll allow me to play at my slow pace, Katerina.’

  ‘Oh, you may play as slowly as you wish,’ she said, ‘and I, of course, will remember not to overexert myself. Dr Kandor has commanded restraint.’

  ‘I’m sure he has,’ said Edward. As before, there were no other people to be seen. Dr Kandor did not appear, nor were there any signs of servants. ‘Who keeps your garden so well, and your lawn so perfect?’ he asked as they advanced to the croquet area. The mallets and balls were out.

  ‘Oh, Sandro is our gardener. He works on it each morning. He’s also a house servant with Anna. That’s all, just Anna and Sandro. They see to everything, except that I look after my own room and a few other things. Edward, I’m not simply a player of croquet. I’m in the garden only in the afternoons mostly.’

  ‘I assure you, I’d never think of you simply as an exponent of croquet,’ said Edward. With his back to the sea, he surveyed the villa. Beyond it was the wall, and beyond that were the pines and the road. And beyond the road was the rising incline covered with maquis scrub, desultory pines and wild olives. Somewhere up there, Rosamund had told him, a person had been using a spyglass yesterday morning. The garden of the villa was visible from way up. He wondered a little, remembering the original incident, and feeling certain it was Dr Kandor who had fired that shot over the head of the man Gregory.

  ‘Edward, what is that you have?’

  He turned to her. She was looking at the leather case he was carrying.

  ‘My camera,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d very much like to take a photograph of you.’

  Katerina stiffened.

  ‘But why?’ There were little vibrations in her voice.

  ‘It worries you, that I’d like a photograph of you?’ he said, curious because she seemed so reluctant.

  ‘No, of course not, but—’ She stopped as Dr Kandor emerged from the villa and walked down the terrace steps towards them.

  ‘Mr Somers, welcome,’ he said and shook hands with Edward. His eyes picked up the meaning of the leather case. ‘You’ve been taking photographs?’

  ‘No, none so far,’ smiled Edward. ‘But I’ve asked the countess if I might take one of her.’

  ‘And she’s expressing modesty?’ Dr Kandor’s smile did not disguise his tendency to take the world seriously. A smile was merely a momentary lightening of his inbuilt gravity. ‘The countess is convinced she photographs badly.’

  ‘A rose may hang its head,’ said Edward, ‘but can never look anything but beautiful.’

  Katerina laughed, but still did not give him permission to use his camera.

  ‘Well, Countess Katerina?’ said the doctor. ‘Are you able to refuse him one photograph after that?’

  ‘Dr Kandor?’ she said, regarding him uncertainly.

  ‘Be generous,’ said the doctor.

  ‘I really don’t wish to press her if she’d rather not,’ said Edward, a little surprised that the taking of a snapshot should become something of an issue.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll take an admirable photograph,’ said Dr Kandor, and smiled again, this time at Katerina.

  ‘Oh, I will sit for you, Edward,’ she said, ‘but first must get my hat.’

  ‘I’d like you without your hat,’ said Edward. He did not want her to hide her magnificent hair.

  ‘I agree,’ said Dr Kandor. ‘Let him take the photograph while I get your hat, for you should wear it while you’re playing croquet.’

  He made his way back to the terrace. Katerina’s hat lay on the table there. Edward took out his camera and his subject stood with the sun on her face, her expression a little tense.

  ‘No smile?’ said Edward. ‘I’m not taking a tooth out, you know – there’ll only be a click and hardly any pain.’

  She laughed then and he caught her in close-up, her face vivid and animated, and her hair a shining, burnished crown.

  ‘It was all right?’ she said.

  ‘All right?’ Edward laughed. ‘That doesn’t cover it at all. You may rely on it, Katerina, that if the photograph is no more than all right I’ll throw the camera away. I’m expecting nothing less than exceptional.’

  He would have liked to take several of her, but since she did not offer, he let it go. Dr Kandor returned with her hat. Edward removed his jacket for the game, the sun being hot, and very kindly the doctor took the garment and the camera up to the terrace. He hung the jacket over the back of a chair. He looked over his shoulder and saw the two of them preparing for the first strike. He re-entered the villa, taking the camera with him. He opened it up and exposed the film to the bright light of the window for long seconds. One had to accept the probable, the showing of the photograph to friends, to fellow ex-officers, perhaps, and it was not difficult to imagine someone saying, ‘She reminds me of – let me see, who does she remind me of?’ And then the guesses and perhaps a reference to a newspaper or a book.

  He returned the camera to its leather case and placed it on the chair. He sat down, took out a pipe, filled it, and sat quietly smoking and watching.

  Katerina was alive, as alive as an exuberant girl.

  ‘Edward – oh! You’re cheating!’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘But you are – you’re taking a croquet without making a hit.’

  ‘I glanced your ball, I thought.’

  ‘No, no.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Well, I’m not precisely sure. Are you precisely sure?’

  ‘No, hopeful that you’ll concede.’

  Her laugh was rich, her eyes dancing.

  ‘Oh, I concede, then. Take your croquet, but if you thump my ball – oh, you beast – that’s fiendish. You’ve sent me into the shrubs. Off with your head!’

  ‘You’ve read Alice in Wonderland?’

  ‘Of course. English literature was Mama’s favourite reading.’

  ‘Bulgarian families seem commendably well educated.’

  ‘Oh, my family was exceptionally so. I am exceptional beyond praise.’

  ‘Very true,’ said Edward, smiting for a hoop and failing.

  ‘I am joking,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not. I’ll get your ball, Katerina.’

  ‘No, no, I will go.’ Her face was a little warm. ‘You must not run about.’

  ‘Neither must you.’

  ‘But we’re doing very well together, aren’t we?’ she said, and he watched her as she glided over the lawn to retrieve her ball from the bed of bright-flowering shrubs. It was impossible to believe that a woman so rich with life should have a weak heart.

  He watched her make her shot from the edge. She struck her ball with a smooth crack. It travelled in a rush over the mown grass, and a laugh of sheer delight broke from her as it cannoned into his red ball.

  ‘Now that is exceptional beyond praise,’ said Edward.

  ‘Oh, did you see it, Edward?’ She came up, warm, quick and glowing. ‘I’ve never played quite such a good shot as that, never. That’s because—’ She broke off, bending to place her ball against his red one. She looked up from under her hat. ‘Oh, it’s because I’m enjoying it so much. Is it foolish, even childish, to find so much pleasure in a little game of croquet? Is it the silly, aimless pleasure of people who have nothing else to do while others work?’

  ‘Perhaps it is for some,’ said Edward. ‘I don’t think it is for you.’

  ‘I’d like to be able to work, to be useful,’ she said. ‘I’d like to do many things.’ She might have said she would like to go out into the world and be as much a part of life as other women were. She bent to her ball again, and Edward wondered why there were apparently no friends, no caring friends, and, most of all, why there was no caring man who loved her and wanted her as his wife. Could any man have found a lovelier or warmer one? What did her weak heart matter? Her presence alone would bring light and joy to a home.

  He looked up, at
the silent Dr Kandor sitting at the terrace table, and at the climbing vista beyond. A little flash of light caught his eye. The reflection, he thought, of the sun on the polished brass of a telescope. It came and went. It came again.

  ‘There,’ said Katerina, sending his ball running.

  ‘Katerina, were you playing croquet yesterday morning?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I’m busy in the house in the mornings. I said so, didn’t I? I’m in the garden only during the afternoons. There, go – go – ’ She watched her struck ball. It passed through the hoop. ‘Oh, do you see, I’m at the top of my form, Edward.’

  She was a delight to him. They played on, he pacing himself and she in exhilaration. He had the oddest feeling that she was trying to cram the vitality of a lifetime into a single hour. There was no word of caution from Dr Kandor. He seemed not at all concerned about her physical extravagance. When she finally won the game, she appeared to think victory was marred by the conclusion of play.

  ‘Oh, how sad,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid it’s all over.’

  ‘Much to my mortification, it is,’ said Edward.

  ‘You’re really mortified?’

  ‘Not really. I enjoyed every moment.’

  ‘Oh, that’s everything, isn’t it, enjoying each moment?’

  ‘With you, yes, that’s everything, Katerina.’

  ‘You really are—’ She paused, she smiled.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Very nice,’ she said. ‘Shall we have tea now?’

  He climbed the terrace steps very slowly. He always climbed steps slowly. But in an instinctive gesture of concern, Katerina put a hand under his elbow. It made him wish for a return to vigour and health, so that he could stand before her with as much to offer her as any normal man.

  Dr Kandor shared tea with them, and they talked, all three of them. Edward asked questions about Bulgaria. The replies from both Katerina and the doctor were lightly informative. Edward thought, not for the first time, what an extraordinary aura of grace and regality she had. And her latent love of activity was in her eyes. They were quick, expressive and as clear as mirrors. She had, he discovered, little teasing moments, as if she could not wholly put aside the years of her youth. Yet she was, quite completely, an enchanting woman.

  When it was time for Edward to go, Katerina glanced at Dr Kandor, who reached for her wrist and felt her pulse. He pronounced it excellent.

  ‘That means I can offer you revenge, Edward,’ she said, and she accompanied him to the gate. ‘I’m not being too demanding, asking if you’ll come again?’

  ‘You’re being very gracious,’ he said, ‘but I think it’s my turn to do the honours. I’ve a car at the hotel. Would you care to take a ride with me – a morning or afternoon spin? I handle it very soberly, and you won’t be subjected to anything hair-raising. A gentle hour’s ride out and a gentle return? Would you like to?’

  He saw how the prospect tempted her, even fascinated her.

  ‘Oh, how lovely,’ she said, ‘Edward, how marvellous. I – oh, I’m not sure.’ Her lashes dropped. ‘Dr Kandor, perhaps, would think – No, I’ll speak to him and write you a little note. If he thinks it would be unwise, you won’t mind spending the time here instead?’

  ‘A car ride with you, or croquet with you, either would be a pleasure.’

  When he had gone, Katerina approached her doctor in such a beguiling way that his little alarm bell began to ring.

  ‘Boris Sergeyovich, you consider Edward a splendid gentleman?’

  ‘Have I said that, Katerina Pyotrovna?’

  ‘Oh, I think so, and I agree with you. He’s perfect as a friend, isn’t he?’

  ‘Is he?’ murmured the doctor.

  ‘Suddenly, how fortunate I am. I have sweet Celeste and Edward as my friends, and you to protect me. You also see to my health, so that I don’t have to call in strange doctors.’

  ‘I’ve little work to do as a medical man,’ said Dr Kandor. ‘I’ve no wounded soldiers in my care, and you are never ill.’

  ‘Well, perhaps I’ll develop a little chill this winter or sprain my ankle,’ she smiled. ‘Oh, by the way, Edward would like to take me for a drive in his car. I’d enjoy that very much. I can hardly say no, can I? Especially as he assured me he’d drive very carefully.’

  Dr Kandor sat up.

  ‘Madness indisputable,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen his car. You’ll be open to every pair of eyes he passes. And who can say he’ll return with you? Who is to say it won’t be the most specious way of abducting you and delivering you into the hands of your enemies? Edward Somers seems an honourable man, yes, but you and I could both be deceived.’

  ‘How could we be? He’s been staying at the hotel every winter for years, and we’ve been here not quite two years. Boris Sergeyovich, you aren’t thinking. Had he been a new visitor, had he suddenly appeared, then it would be reasonable to have suspicions. As it is – oh, you only have to look at him and speak with him to know you could trust him. I could trust him with my last breath.’

  ‘With your life, Katerina Pyotrovna?’

  ‘Yes, with my life.’ She was unhesitating. ‘As I trust you. Oh, you must consider him a genuine friend, or you wouldn’t have encouraged him to take that photograph of me.’

  ‘To be cautious, to be careful, doesn’t necessarily mean one is distrustful. The photograph will not come out. I opened up the camera and exposed the film.’

  ‘Oh, how could you do such a thing!’ Katerina flushed in distress. ‘That was unworthy.’

  ‘Nothing I do in your interests is unworthy to me,’ he said. ‘I did not spoil his film because I distrust him, but because it’s wiser for no one to have photographs of you.’

  ‘You let Edward take the photograph so that he wouldn’t think our refusal strange?’

  ‘I think you understood that at the time, Katerina Pyotrovna.’

  ‘I did not think you intended to ruin it.’

  ‘To want him to have a photograph of you is not the wisest thing.’

  ‘He’s my friend,’ said Katerina, ‘my only friend apart from Celeste. I’m even denied contact with the Grand Dukes—’

  ‘The Grand Dukes who live in Nice are of the kind who’d make the most dangerous friends of all. One or two of them would sell you to the Bolsheviks for less than the price of a necklace.’

  ‘Boris Sergeyovich, your protection of me is very precious.’ Katerina gently pressed his hand. ‘I know you are right about the Grand Dukes. But please let me go with Edward. See, I’ll wear a veil and ensure we don’t drive to Nice. There, that’s a splendid idea, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m uneasy,’ said the doctor.

  ‘You needn’t be.’

  ‘I’m uneasy about your feelings. I did not anticipate there was a danger you might fall in love. I’ve this moment realized the danger is very real. He is in your eyes, Katerina Pyotrovna.’

  The colour rushed to her face. She stood up and gazed fixedly at the sea.

  ‘I will not discuss that.’ She was quite imperious. ‘You’ve no right to ask me to.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to. I’m concerned about what it might lead to.’

  ‘I am not falling in love,’ she said fiercely, but he heard the vibrations in her voice, always a sign of emotion in her. ‘I’ve only seen Edward twice.’

  ‘Three times. Perhaps the first time was enough. You began to dream that day.’

  ‘Boris Sergeyovich!’ She turned. She stamped her foot. ‘I will not discuss it, no!’

  She swept away, into the villa, to hide what was in her eyes.

  He sighed.

  Edward woke up again that night. He was used to broken nights, to the hours when his suffering lungs brought him out of sleep and induced him to take one of the tablets prescribed by his doctor. He was not used to being woken up by a disturbed mind.

  Who was she, besides being Countess Katerina Pyotrovna of Varna? Who was so interested in her, but so unwanted, that Dr Kandor not only kept a rifle to han
d but was ready to use it? Who was using a telescope to observe her?

  Why had she been so hesitant to let him photograph her?

  Chapter Ten

  Close to lunchtime the following morning, Celeste arrived at Edward’s elbow. He was at work in the garden, detached as usual from the activities of other guests. Celeste had a letter for him. It had just arrived from the Villa d’Azur.

  ‘M’sieur,’ she murmured, ‘look – another billet-doux.’

  She stood by while he read it, for she wished to miss nothing of a developing relationship that was touching her romantic soul deeply.

  Dear Edward my friend, I am in such pleasure in informing you that Dr Kandor, having given your suggestion generous consideration, has said a drive in your car will do me no harm whatever, providing you are not a madman behind a wheel. I have assured him that you have assured me you aren’t. Will you let me know, please, when I am to expect you to call for me, with the car? I am, in friendship, Katerina.

  He read it twice, then smiled up at the hovering French girl.

  ‘Thank you, Celeste,’ he said. ‘This is from the countess.’

  ‘I already know that,’ said Celeste.

  ‘Then you’re not burning with unsatisfied curiosity? Good.’

  ‘Oh, m’sieur, you’re merciless in your secrecy.’

  ‘Shame on me. Well, if you must know, I’ll be taking her for a drive in my car tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, such an achievement,’ breathed Celeste rapturously. ‘She never goes out, she has to be so careful.’

  ‘Yes, very careful,’ said Edward.

  ‘Isn’t it sad, her fragile heart?’ said Celeste. ‘You must take the greatest care of her. But only think, m’sieur, how sweet her thoughts of you must be for her to risk a drive in your car.’

  ‘Your imagination, young lady, is running away with you.’

  ‘Write your answer,’ smiled Celeste, bobbed hair springing, ‘and Jacques will take it immediately after lunch. We mustn’t keep the countess in suspense.’

  ‘Oh, we’re all in this, are we?’ said Edward.

  ‘No, no,’ protested Celeste, ‘it’s just between you and me.’

  ‘I think that covers everybody here and in La Roche,’ said Edward.