Read Tears of Autumn, The Online
Authors: David Wiltshire
It was a magical moment, one that the men would remember for the rest of their days.
It was a short walk through more gardens full of camellias, bougainvillaeas, roses and lemon trees to the Villa Cimbrone. It had been, they were told, renovated only that century, in classical and medieval styles, by the man who was responsible for Big Ben, one Lord Grimthorpe.
But Rosemary was only excited by the fact that Greta Garbo had been there that year during her notorious ‘fling’, as she preferred to call it, with Leopold Stokowski the conductor.
The candlelit dinner, with a string quartet playing softly outside the room, on the terrace, was unforgettable. At the end of the evening they walked slowly back, Rosemary on the arm of Konrad, Biff escorting Anna.
‘That was wonderful, Konrad.’ Rosemary was sleepy, leaning heavily on him. ‘Thank you for organizing it. We would never have done this on our own.’
He patted her hand with his and chuckled.
‘Thank my darling wife, Anna. Her dislike of
Il Duce
was the reason.’
His wife was apologizing to Biff.
‘I’m sorry – was the concert not to your liking – were you bored?’
He shook his head violently.
‘Not at all, whatever gave you that idea?’
Anna smiled, her face caught in the light from the lamps along the path.
‘I thought you were asleep at one point.’
They were holding hands. He felt close enough to her to lift it and gave it a mock slap.
‘You were mistaken. I was letting the music flow over me.’
She giggled.
‘I could see that.’
They drove back down the hill, still with the roof off, the warm night air full of the scents of the unseen trees and bushes, their yellowish headlights picking out fluttering moths and the occasional black shape of a bat. As they came into Amalfi Biff turned in the front seat and looked back. Konrad was in the middle, the two girls slumped with a head on each shoulder, both fast asleep.
He grinned, but by the time they got to the hotel the girls had begun to stir.
Biff got out first and opened the door for Anna. She was dreamy, so he leaned in and gently pulled her to her feet. She stumbled into him, and he had to steady her with his arm around her waist for a moment. He was conscious of her warmth, her softness, her perfume and the reaction of his body.
Konrad got out. ‘Thank you, Biff,’ he said, and Anna snuggled up against him as Biff hurried around to the other side and helped a blinking stretching Rosemary. He felt guilty, as if he had been unfaithful to her, but he knew that that was being stupid.
It was not every day that an attractive young woman fell into his arms.
‘Come on, old girl, let’s get you to bed.’
Anna must have woken up a little, because she giggled.
‘You English. If he called me an “old girl” I’d hit him.’
Konrad made a face of horror.
‘I wouldn’t dare, my darling.’
Biff sniffed.
‘Yes, well, it’s a way we English have of showing our affection.’
‘Funny way.’ Anna was staggering a little as they walked into the hotel. Biff realized she had drunk an awful lot of wine – both of them had, only with Rosemary it had made her quiet – up to now.
They got their keys from the desk, the girls making a noise
one moment, excessively shooshing with forefingers to lips the next.
Their rooms were adjacent.
Konrad and Biff opened the doors with their keys, keeping one hand on their swaying and still shooshing wives.
For the first time Anna had a slight accent.
‘Now be a good boy, Biff, my friend wants to go to sleep, don’t you, Rosemary?’
Rosemary gave her a huge wink, and they fell into each other’s arms, whispering loud enough to be heard by anybody standing yards away.
Anna said ‘You call me, Rosemary, if you need help – pilots can be very demanding when they are at the controls.’
Rosemary seemed to think that was very funny.
‘And you too, Anna. Don’t let him torpedo you when you are not looking.’
They went off into gales of laughter, which their menfolk did not find amusing, pulling them apart and pushing them quickly into their rooms.
Konrad and Biff shook their heads in mock despair.
‘A great day, Konrad,’ said Biff. ‘Thank you.’
‘It was good,
ja
? See you in the morning.’ With that they followed their young wives into their rooms and gently closed the doors.
The only sound that could be heard in the corridor after that was the odd girl’s voice giggling with pleasure, and the rhythmic creaking of ancient springs.
To Biff’s bewilderment at first, a tipsy Rosemary had insisted on facing the pillow, rearing and pushing back at him like a young mare. But then, with increasing pleasure and forcefulness he held her by the nape of the neck as she enjoyed herself immensely, pretending to be a long-maned, highly strung and proud arab steed being broken in by her master.
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.
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 bit 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?’