Voice of the Heart (51 page)

Francesca leaned forward, her hands resting on the skis, her smile wide with happiness. ‘I’d like you to stay at Wittingenhof with us,’ she said, having resolved earlier to be honest with him, to let her feelings show, regardless of the consequences. She waited, became aware of his indecisiveness, and rushed on, ‘Diana took me down to the hotel in Königssee late yesterday afternoon, and although it’s the best, it’s not what you’re used to, and they didn’t have a suite available. Only a rather grotty room. So apart from anything else, you’d be much more comfortable at the house.’

Victor looked at her carefully. This is one hell of a switch on her part, he thought. He said, ‘Won’t it create problems for you later, if I do? Won’t you have to explain to yo—’

She cut him short. ‘Of course not!’ she exclaimed, smiling reassuringly. ‘I don’t think we should worry about that now.’ Her voice was smooth, unconcerned.

Momentarily nonplussed, in view of their long discussion about her father on Saturday night, Victor intensified his scrutiny. He could see that her mood of gaiety and enthusiasm was undiminished, and he was suddenly convinced she knew what she was doing. Yet he had difficulty in acquiescing. He was not sure why. ‘Well, I’m still—’

‘Excuse me for interrupting, Victor,’ Diana said. ‘But I’d like to make something clear. The Schloss is large. You would
have your own suite of rooms and your privacy. We won’t intrude on you in any way, and you can come and go as you like.’ She laughed lightly, threw him a quick glance. ‘I never restrict my guests.’

‘Hey, Diana, that’s not why I’m hesitating. I know you’d make me welcome and comfortable.’ He swung his head to face Francesca, noted the expectancy in her eyes, made a snap decision. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay at the house. Providing you’re sure it’s all right, Francesca.’

‘Absolutely,’ she cried, unable to disguise her excitement. ‘Oh good. It’s settled. On to Wittingenhof, Dibs darling.’

Victor chuckled. If Francesca could accept the situation with such apparent insouciance and pleasure, who was he to argue. He settled back in the seat, relaxing, and took out a packet of cigarettes. He lit one, smoking in silence for a few minutes, and then he said, ‘I hope this doesn’t mean a lot of extra work for you, Diana.’

‘Not at all, we have excellent help. And actually, your suite is already prepared and waiting for you. Christian insisted on that. Ah, we’re almost at the Austrian border. Do you have your passport handy, Victor?’

‘Sure do.’ He reached into the inside pocket of his Harris tweed sports jacket and pulled it out.

‘
You
have mine,’ Francesca said, tapping Diana lightly on the shoulder.

Diana nodded. ‘Yes, I do. They may not be needed, but it’s best to have them ready.’ She braked as the border guards came forward to meet the car. When they saw Diana, who was leaning out of the window, they smiled and nodded and waved her on. Within a few minutes she was sliding to a stop at the German frontier. Once again the border patrol seemed to know her and they chatted cordially, glanced indifferently at the passports, and signalled her to pass through the barrier which had just been raised.

When they were over the border, and speeding down
the road again, Victor said, ‘They didn’t seem particularly interested in us. Is that normal procedure?’

‘Not really, but I’m backwards and forwards to Salzburg all the time, and the guards at the German side live in and around the area. They’ve known me for many years,’ Diana explained. She slackened her speed. ‘Victor, do look around. Isn’t Bavaria beautiful?’

He peered out of the windows with interest. Forests of pine rose majestically on either side of the road, the stately firs of a green so dark they were almost black, their branches weighted with frostings of snow that glistened in the brilliant sunshine. The wooded landscape stretched as far as the eye could see, its impressive sweep unbroken by any form of habitation or signs of civilization. And towering above these great coniferous forests were the glacial Alps, awesome in their grandeur and solitary beauty under a sky of dazzling azure.

‘It’s breathtaking,’ Victor pronounced. ‘I can’t wait to hit those slopes.’ He indicated the range of mountains on the far horizon.

‘I know what you mean,’ Diana said. ‘Francesca tells me you’re a champion skier.’

‘She said the same about you!’

‘Oh, I’m not too bad,’ Diana answered off-handedly. ‘And since you’re obviously an experienced skier, I’ve decided to take you up on the Jenner tomorrow. Then if you want a longer run, we can tackle the Rossfeld on Friday. The snow has been good this year. It’s lasted well. Conditions are ideal. You’ll get some good skiing, Victor.’

‘I hope so. I’ve been looking forward to this break for weeks on end.’

Francesca said, ‘I don’t think I’ll be joining the two of you. At least not on the Jenner or the Rossfeld. They’re too difficult. To tell you the truth, even the nursery slopes seem a bit frightening to me this year. Perhaps I should skip the skiing entirely.’

‘That might be best. You’d better not tax yourself,’ Victor cautioned. ‘You’ve been sick, remember. I think it’s wiser and safer to do something less dangerous.’

‘I’ll potter around the Schloss and keep Christian company.’

‘Oh that
will
please him, Cheska,’ Diana smiled, affection ringing in her voice. She said to Victor, ‘I hear you usually go to Klosters. The skiing is certainly comparable here.’ She sighed lightly and shook her head. ‘When you’re up above six thousand feet everything down below seems so very petty, utterly sham, wherever the mountain is located. Up there, surrounded by such incredible beauty and purity, you feel closer to God, nearer to the truth, and you suddenly get a totally different perspective on the world, see it with clearer eyes. Isn’t that so, Victor?’

Before he had the opportunity to respond, her laughter echoed around the small car. ‘Oh dear, I’m sounding much too serious and philosophical. The wrong mood entirely.’ Her eyes flicked to Victor and she smiled, brought her gaze back to the road. ‘Cheska and I decided last night that these next few days are going to be carefree, and lots of fun.’

‘That suits me,’ Victor said. ‘And I hope you’re going to let me take you all out to dinner one night…’ He stopped, remembering Diana had said he was conspicuous, and added, with a quirky smile, ‘I guess I’ll have to go incognito, wearing my skiing gear and goggles.’

The girls laughed, and Diana said, ‘That’s an interesting thought. And thank you for your lovely invitation. As a matter of fact, there are some charming old taverns in the area, and also in Salzburg, which I know you’d enjoy. But… well, we’ll see,’ she finished on a noncommittal note.

Francesca reached out and touched Victor’s shoulder. ‘It’s Diana’s birthday later this week. There’s going to be a small dinner party on Thursday evening. It was planned before she and Christian knew we were coming. You don’t mind meeting a few of their friends, do you?’

‘I’m
entirely in your hands, kid. And the party sounds great.’ He made a mental note to talk to Francesca about a birthday present for her cousin, wondering absently if there were any good shops in the town.

Diana and Francesca launched into a discussion about clothes and the outfits they would wear for the party, and Victor lit another cigarette, listening to them with half an ear, amused by their feminine chatter, as well as by the turn of events. You never know in life, old buddy, you just never know, he said to himself.

Victor sank into his own thoughts for a few moments. Francesca’s cousin was unusually mature and sophisticated in the best sense of that word. Young as she was, she had undoubtedly experienced her own heartache. There had been a ring of conviction and truth and knowledge in her voice when she had mentioned the worthless, the petty, and the sham. The whole world was sham, wasn’t it? The question hung there and he pondered it, and found himself thinking about Francesca. There was nothing sham or shoddy about her. She was pure gold, and very real. The genuine thing, and then some. She’s also
verboten
, he reminded himself with a start. Unexpectedly, Victor was no longer able to push aside his feelings for her, nor ignore the attraction she held for him. And he was filled with disquiet, contemplating the five days ahead of him, and of living under the same roof with her. Oh Christ, he thought, what have I done?

***

Victor glanced at his watch. They had been on the road for almost an hour now, and he was about to ask how much farther it was to Wittingenhof, when Diana announced, ‘Here we are, Victor.’

She dropped her speed and came to a standstill, waiting for another car to pass, and then she drove across the highway and began to climb a dirt road, patched with ice in places and recently layered with cinders. It was narrow and twisting, and rose steeply through a dense wood of giant Scotch pines
and drifting banks of frozen snow. They continued to climb for a good twenty minutes. The road began to widen and gradually it levelled off, became a wide flat plateau where the forest thinned out.

Victor was staring ahead. He could see a stone gatehouse, its white-washed facade intersected with dark wood beams, small windows with wooden shutters and brass carriage lamps on either side of a great stone arch. This cut through the centre of the gatehouse like a tunnel, and from it swung massive black iron gates hanging wide open. Victor lifted his eyes as the Volkswagen rumbled over the cobblestones under the archway. He read the name, Schloss Wittingenhof, and the date, 1833, carved in the stonework above the entrance leading into an estate of some considerable size.

Diana swung left and stopped in front of a complex of buildings adjoining the gatehouse, obviously stables and garages, and pulled on the brake. She jumped out of the car, calling to Victor, ‘Let’s release poor Cheska, shall we?’ and began tugging at the skis.

‘I’ll do that,’ he cried, also alighting, but she had already removed them when he came round to the other side of the Volkswagen. Francesca clambered out, stretched herself, and pulled a face. ‘God, I was just about ready to scream. I’m terribly cramped and stiff.’

‘Don’t blame me. I offered to get a taxi for the luggage,’ he reminded her. ‘Listen, swing your arms and touch your toes. That’ll work out the kinks.’ She did as he suggested, and he made a motion to lift his bag off the back seat.

Diana hoisted his skis onto her shoulder. She said, ‘Don’t bother with your luggage, Victor. Manfred will bring it in later.’ She set off down a patch cut through a wide expanse of clean snow, her silver-gilt hair gleaming in the sunlight as she walked in the direction of the house.

Victor retrieved his overcoat from the front seat and hurried after Francesca, who was gaily skipping along behind Diana, for all the world like a little yellow bird let out of
her cage. He smiled at his comparison, his eyes fastening on her. And it was true, Francesca did seem different to him, freer and less constrained than she was in London. Perhaps her present demeanour had something to do with being in a foreign country, far away from the strictures of her everyday life and all that this entailed; it could be induced by the holiday spirit they all shared; it might even be Diana’s influence at work. But whatever had wrought the change was irrelevant, as far as he was concerned. He liked her joyful, unfettered mood, for it suited her and, furthermore, it made him feel more relaxed.

Victor pulled his eyes away from Francesca and directed them sharply to the end of the path. Here stood Schloss Wittingenhof in all its ancient glory. Although Diana had said it was large, he had not envisioned a house quite this size, nor one so impressive, for in essence it was a grand manor house of some distinction. It was of excellent proportions, long and relatively low and rambling, with various wings protruding from the central structure. These wings, perfectly balanced to the main building, helped to create a flowing and harmonious effect. Roofs of blue-grey slate pitched gently down to touch stone walls the colour of eggshell, a soft off-white that had a hint of beige. The many windows were flanked by black and white shutters, whilst the double front door, with a lintel of stone, was painted white and decorated with black nail heads and black iron hinges. A series of dormer windows were cut into the roofs, which, in turn, were topped by fat squat chimneys, and all added to the charm of the picturesque architecture.

Wittingenhof nestled against a backdrop of splendid fir trees. These swept upwards over the slopes of the mountain, which continued its soaring ascent immediately behind the Schloss. The mountain, for all its immensity of size and spread and height, did not diminish the house. Rather, it threw Wittingenhof into bold relief, the grandeur of the natural setting underscoring its intrinsic beauty. The plateau
upon which the house was built was on high ground, and the atmosphere was clear, bracing, and the intense glare from the crystalline snow converged with the lucency of the sky to create a light of supernatural brilliance, a light that blinded with its clarity. Victor blinked, shielded his eyes with his hand, and caught up with Francesca. ‘The Schloss looks a sensational place,’ he said.

‘Yes, it’s lovely, and wait ’til you see inside. Diana has done a marvellous job with it.’

‘Is the architecture typical of the area?’ he asked, falling into step.

‘Yes, to a certain extent. It’s very much in the Bavarian tradition, but modified, less Hansel and Gretelish. I forget who designed it, someone quite famous in his time though. Wittingenhof is considered an architectural classic, and it’s well over a hundred years old.’

‘Yes, I noticed the date on the entrance when we drove in, I guess it was built for the family, wasn’t it?’

Francesca nodded. ‘One of Diana’s ancestors owned this mountain and the surrounding land, and I understand that he built the Schloss for his young wife, who was frail in health and needed the air at this altitude. She must have had lung problems. After she died, the house fell into disuse. The family only occupied it occasionally in the summer months, for holidays. It was Diana who actually decided to open it up for full-time use, and she and Christian have made it their permanent home for a number of years now. It’s just as beautiful in the summer. These…’ She pointed to the snowy areas in front of the house, ‘are all lawns and there are meadows at the back, and a lovely lake. Oh look, Victor… you’ve got a welcoming committee!’ she cried tugging at his arm.