“Please, Mefist,” asked Maria, “Will I be good enough?”
“Good enough?” He patted her bottom. “The men will be queuing up for you! I’d take you home myself, but Therese is very jealous. Go on with you, and let’s have the next one.”
Therese watched and noted as he measured each of them, chatting and calming them as he did so. He had just the right touch. Therese expected he would be good with animals too. When he had finished, he called them together. They had forgotten their nudity and stood together as if they were fully dressed. Therese was surprised it had happened so quickly. “Good work, girls. I have all your most intimate details in my little book. I’m going to send a telegram to Wanda, and I hope we will see her in a few days. You’ll like her.
“Now I have to compliment you. I have never seen so many pretty girls all at once. Wonderful, but I simply must get you some proper clothes.” He walked over to the table and pulled a pair of gray drawers from one of the heaps. “Look at these!” He held them up. “They are terrible! No one under the age of 103 should be permitted to wear them. Gather them all up, Therese. I shall take them down to the boiler house myself.”
The girls started to protest. “No, no. I won’t hear of it! I will not allow all these beautiful bottoms to be put in such uninspiring garments. You’ll have to manage with nothing at all. Think how nice that will feel on a day like this. Now get dressed, and in a few minutes we’ll all go down for lunch.”
Mefist led Therese to the new office and shut the door behind them. “Now it’s your turn, Therese.” She had resolved not to fight him, and anyway, all the girls had had to go through the same humiliation—and in public, too. She threw her headscarf onto the desk, turned her back, and started to undress.
“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” he asked behind her.
“I’ve seen grooms like you. A pocket full of sugar lumps, and they can make horses do anything they want. Except that you used combs and not sugar lumps. Tell me, do you really think they’re pretty?”
“Well, all ladies are pretty when they want to be, didn’t you know? Did you see them at the beginning? Cowering and trying to hide behind their hands? Then look at them just now, when I took their knickers away? Which picture looked prettier? It’s all in their minds, you know. Once they know a bit more about men, they’ll be strutting around like peacocks—you’ll see.
“They need attention, of course. They’re just so clumsy, and so hairy! Never mind. Wanda will fix that sort of thing. She’ll give them a bit of confidence too, I expect. Here, give those to me.”
Therese had just stepped out of her drawers when Mefist snatched them from her and went out. “Here, Dorota, add these to the heap!” She heard a giggle, and Mefist returned.
“Right, Therese, let’s have a look at you.” He took her hands and held them apart. “Very nice. Turn around.” He dropped one hand and, lifting the other, turned her as if they were dancing. “Beautiful, truly beautiful. Therese, I have to say you are the pick of them all!”
“I heard what you said to all the other girls, Mefist.”
“That was all true too, up to a point, but you are wonderful. If I had to elope, I know who I’d take with me.”
“Save your hot blood for someone else, Mefist. When this is all over I shall be back in the Convent, even if I have to be a lay-sister and take care of the chickens.”
“Let me kneel at your feet!” he said dramatically and brought out his measuring tape. She winced inwardly as he knelt in front of her. He was staring straight at her sex. My God, help me! I don’t think I can do this for much longer, she cried silently. Hurry up, Mefist! But Mefist took his time. Slowly he reached around her waist with the tape and tightened it up. Her skin tingled. He reached around her again to smooth the tape around her back. His face was near her, and she could feel his breath on her belly.
He dropped the tape and reached for the notebook. Then he reached for the tape again. As he bent forward, his hair touched her with an electric shock. She trembled as he smoothed the tape around her bottom and held the join tight in her hair. He did not seem to notice. He stood up to measure her breasts.
“These are truly magnificent, Therese,” he said, brushing the outsides of her breasts with his fingertips. “Look at them!”
Therese looked down. Her nipples seemed darker than normal and they were standing tight and erect, as if she were cold. A shiver ran through her as he adjusted the tape over her sensitive points, and she felt his brushing fingers in the depths of her stomach. “Holy Mary, Mefist! Stop playing with me!”
He smiled and leaned forward to give her a kiss on the forehead. “You’re a real Aphrodite. You’ll make some lucky man very happy. Now come for lunch.”
When he had gone, she fumbled for her clothes and got dressed. Her skin felt strange and alive as she walked down to lunch with the girls. The movement of her habit across her bare bottom made it worse. When they got to the refectory, Therese called the chief server over. Together they organised a separate table for the girls at the foot of the hall. From now on they would eat here, and Therese decided to sit with them.
“It’s the best place to be, Ma’am,” said the server. “You’re right next to the kitchen door, and your food will always be hot.”
Chapter 7
Therese and Maria sat in the last cleared meadow at the edge of the forest, high above Montebello. The floor of the narrow sloping valley was kept clear, partly as summer grazing, but even more so the huntsmen could shoot boar and deer from the hides at the forest edge.
The two women looked down the open strip between the dark forested slopes, towards the castle sleeping like a friendly beast on its ridge in the sun. Its red roofs and round white tower stood out against the smoky haze of the valley floor beyond.
Autumn was already taking the tree leaves up here, and the long grass bent brown and lifeless. The wild raspberries had finished, but there were still blackberries to find if you searched long enough. Therese poked at the small fire and added some more dry wood.
“It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it, Mistress? It reminds me of when I was a little girl.” Maria was sorting and trimming the mushrooms, mostly steinpilz and kurki, they had picked under the trees. She was an expert and would keep them all from harm. “My mother used to take me to the woods and we’d pick mushrooms day after day. She’d dry them for winter, or take them into town for sale. We were very poor then. She died poor, but that’s the way it is. God doesn’t look in your purse when you go to Him. Did you pick mushrooms, Mistress?”
“No, Maria, I was always too frightened. I’d pick the field mushrooms sometimes, but there’s so many in the forest that I never learnt the good ones. I used to have a pony, and I was too busy rushing around the estate or taking her to visit my friends. Then my family sent me to school in Interlaken, and the teachers there certainly didn’t think that young ladies should pick mushrooms. In some ways I was more restricted in school than in the Convent. Why did you become a nun, Maria?”
“I didn’t have a choice, really. My mother died when I was only twelve. I didn’t have family—well, I’d got an auntie, but she had no money either and already had more than enough children. My mother had left the few crowns she had to the priest with a letter begging him to take me in, so he found a place for me here. It was that or the streets, so here I am.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, not really. I mean, children and a family would have been nice, but it’s God’s work we do, isn’t it? I’m warm and comfortable, and I have my Sisters. I can’t complain.”
“But it’s not too late for you! You’re only thirty-four, aren’t you?”
“Thirty-three, Mistress. I’m not thirty-four until Christmas. God forgive me, but I’d love to have a little baby, husband or no, and now that might even come true! Do you think the Convent would throw me out if it happened?”
“Maria, if Mefist or the Convent didn’t take care of you, I’d send you to my father. Yo
u would have earned your peace by then.”
“Mistress, I always said you were the best Mother Superior a nun could wish for.”
Therese felt embarrassed at her gratitude. “Call the girls over, Maria. This fire must be big enough by now.”
The girls ran up, chattering and shouting to each other. They looked healthy; the exercise had put colour into their cheeks, and their eyes shone. Meike had a garland of autumn leaves around her head. “Get those sausages,” ordered Therese, “and you’d better all get a stick to cook them on. No stick, no sausage.”
Maria had already sharpened sticks, and she passed one to Therese. “Beer, Mistress? Mefist told me to make sure the girls all had some. He says it’s good for the complexion.” She started to open the half litre bottles and pass them around. “Come on, girls, share and share alike.”
Maria grabbed the pointed end of Therese’s stick and deftly threaded a sausage and half an onion onto it. “Here you are, Mistress, and some bread, and your beer. Mefist particularly said you had to have some.”
Therese sat grilling her sausage, deaf to the chatter around her, and drank from the bottle of dark beer, just as Mefist had ordered. It was strange to think that less than a week ago, she had only the slightest idea that Mefist existed. Now he had taken over the castle, and the lives of the girls, and her life too.
The funny thing was, it felt so natural now. All she believed in had been stood on its head, and she hardly noticed. She could see the same in the others; they did not seem upset at all. She passed the beer bottle to Maria.
“I do like Mefist,” said Maria, echoing her thoughts, “He’s a real gentleman. You know, not one of those that are full of their own importance and walk around with their bellies stuck out. He just is important. I think we’d do anything for him. Even have dancing lessons with no clothes on, like we did this morning. You should have joined in, Mistress, it was such fun.”
She half-wished she had, but she had only got back in time to see the last waltz before Mefist had packed up the gramophone and sent them all out with a picnic lunch to pick mushrooms. The girls had been enjoying themselves, whirling around like ice skaters, oblivious to their lack of clothes. Mefist was right about that too; even naked, they had begun to look beautiful. But he had also been right about the hair.
She had spent a frustrating two hours trying to telephone the Bishop. The Army had sorted out the telephone lines, and she got through to faraway Vojnicky Kapitula without too much difficulty. She had tried several times, but the Bishop had not been able to speak to her. She wondered if he knew of her troubles already, and if so, who had told him.
In the end, she poured out her heart to a deacon who had told her to wait by the telephone. Within a few minutes he had called her back. “The Bishop is sorry that his schedule means he cannot speak to you himself, but he asks me to tell you that he is confident your good conscience will carry you through these difficult times, and that you will be in his prayers.” She had felt a very unchristian urge to scream at him, but had hung the telephone up quietly. Mefist had understood. No one wished to share her burden.
Mefist had said they must go for a picnic because he wanted them out of the club. The carpenters had to install a bar, and the piano was coming. Therese suspected he really wanted to give her the chance to take her mind off the telephone and the Bishop. She had enjoyed the long walk up from the Castle with the girls. Searching for mushrooms in the forest had absorbed her completely. Now, sitting with her friends and enjoying the badly cooked sausages, she had set the phone call aside. The Bishop, fortunately for him, lived far away. She did not need him or his approval to do what was right. In fact, if the man himself walked out from the trees right now, she would not be interested enough to attack him.
They returned to the castle as the sun fell. The tents by the wagon park had gone, and the soldiers had moved up into the castle. The new sentry box stood by the outer gate, and military ideas of cleanliness had begun to impose themselves. The main gates, held permanently open, had a new coat of paint, and the curbstones had been painted white. The old guard room, long used for the porter and garden tools, had been brought back into use, and a neatly lettered sign stated that you were entering the Head Quarters of The Princess Royal’s 3rd Carpathian Brigade. The sentry smiled to the girls but saluted Therese as she passed.
She went to her room only to find that she had been moved. She found her things in the governess’s apartment on the first floor of the tower. A move up in the world that made Therese happy. She would have easy access to the tower gallery, and rare privacy because her room was not on the way to anywhere else. There were no other apartments in the tower, just a storeroom above her. Visitors to the tower could either carry on up the spiral staircase to the top or go back down again. The only other exit was a small door onto the roof of the main buildings, but that was only used for maintenance.
She had a large room, fresh and clean, with a writing desk under the small window and two comfortable chairs at the fireplace. A narrow door led to her own bathroom, a luxury indeed. And for some reason, she had a large double bed. Therese had never slept in a double bed before. She was writing at the desk when a knock came at the door. She opened it to Mefist.
“Well? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“But you can’t! It’s my bedroom.”
“Of course I can, and anyway, who’s to know? You could get up to all sorts of mischief up here and nobody any the wiser.” He walked in and took one of the soft chairs. “This is nice. It must be one of the coziest bedrooms in the castle. Do you like it?”
“It’s very nice; and I suppose I have to thank Mefist, who seems to be able to do anything.”
“Your humble servant, Mistress. Just say the word and I’ll walk through fire for you.”
“Well, thank you, but why are you here?”
“Oh, mostly to watch you enjoying your new room, of course, but also because I’m going to miss you at dinner. I have to run up to the front and I don’t know when I’ll get back. Probably late tomorrow, so you’ll have to meet Wanda at the train. I’ll arrange with Grossner to give you my car and a driver. I’m sure Wanda will have a mountain of luggage. She never travels light, and she’ll have all the things for the girls. If you wouldn’t mind taking care of her until I get back.
“Oh, and the hairdresser is coming tomorrow afternoon. No doubt it will take her a couple more visits to attend to everyone. I visited her in the village, and she knows that if I come back and find the girls looking like a bunch of frizzed up old grandmothers, she’ll be joining one of our mule trains. With a packsaddle on. I want long hair wherever possible. A few curls or waves if the girl wants, but I’m not interested in what ladies like. I want what all men want, and that’s long hair that spreads out on the pillow.
“What else? Yes, Corporal Horvath will bring in a consignment of drinks and glasses for you tomorrow morning. Horvath used to be a barman at the Metropole in Budapest, so he’s just the person to teach the girls how to serve wine and carry drinks to the tables. Then let him give a special session to the people who will work behind the bar. That should be you, of course, and I would suggest Maria—she’s sensible enough—and one other. A steady girl with some brains. Not Helena if she’s going to be playing the piano much, but someone reliable.
“Now I must be off. I’m late already.”
“It’s not dangerous, is it? I mean, at the front. Are they fighting up there?”
“No, there’s no fighting yet or we’d be hearing the guns. I don’t think there will be any fighting. It would be a stupid place to attack us, but you never know. So, I’m off.” He jumped to his feet.
“Do be careful, Mefist.”
“Don’t worry, little sister. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He brushed her cheek with his lips and left.
Chapter 8
Standing on the railway platform in normal clothes felt humiliating to Therese. Many of the village people would recognise her, and she had no wis
h to advertise her new status as bordello madam for the Imperial Army. She had come to the station as a nun several times before, and she had always waited in the stationmaster’s office with coffee and biscuits. Now she felt exposed and disgraced, and the large figure of Grossner standing respectfully behind her did not help.
The train appeared as a black dot in a cloud of white smoke. Therese flinched as the noise and steam of the engine enveloped her and the train squealed to a halt.
Wanda was unmistakable as the only woman in fashionable city clothes. Her skirt was shorter than normal, her stockings fitted perfectly, and her hat and coat were sharp and in a matching light fawn.
She held her hand out. “You must be Therese. It’s nice to see you. You are just as pretty as Franz said. Could your sergeant organize the porters? I’m afraid I have rather a lot of things. Ask the guard, Sergeant. He has the list.”
“Did you have a good journey?”
“My dear, it was terrible. These country trains can be so slow in normal times, but now they are positively crawling, and the main lines are so busy with army trains. Still, Franz says the valley here is going to be an island of tranquillity. I hope so. I don’t like to think of him in danger. How is it all affecting you?”
“Well, not at all really. It’s all very peaceful.” Therese stopped in surprise. “Well, it has actually affected us very much. I mean, a week ago, we were still nuns! Now we’re just…”
She could not bring the word out, and Wanda smiled at her. “I don’t think you’re just anything. You have a job to do, and Franz said if you hadn’t volunteered, they would have had to take women from the village. Franz was lucky to find you. The village people should be grateful, although I don’t think you’ll find any women to say nice things about you. Just forget about them and call yourself a hostess. That’s what I’d do. If anyone criticizes, ask her if she’d like to take your place.
The Prince and the Nun Page 5
