Posted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 9:58 pm
Rudi stood outside the castle, trying frantically to remember. Car keys. What had he done with them? They weren’t in his pocket: the only thing in there was the box containing the diamond ring that he’d chosen so carefully yesterday afternoon.
Where were they? In his room, because he hadn’t expected to need them. And where exactly had he put them? In a safe place somewhere that they couldn’t get lost … but where? He looked at his watch for about the tenth time in five minutes. Karen would have reached and left Spartz long before he got there at this rate. He was going to have to go straight to Innsbruck, and at this time of day he was bound to get stuck in traffic. Did he have any realistic chance of catching her? Well, he was just going to have to try. And, if he missed her at Innsbruck, then he’d go back to the castle, ask for the address of the Chalet School and take himself to Switzerland.
There was no way that he was giving up on her, not when they hadn’t talked through the issues that admittedly might exist, and she hadn’t even given him chance to tell her his idea. If she wasn’t so temperamental, she’d have told him exactly what was worrying her so that they could have had a rational conversation about it, instead of taking off like this and just leaving him a cryptic, tearstained note … but she wouldn’t be Karen if she was any different from the way she was.
Karen waited agitatedly for the Spartz train. The time was dragging: she was sure that the hands on the station clock were hardly moving. She took her book out of her suitcase and tried to read it, but she couldn’t concentrate and the words kept blurring before her eyes. Why had she had to miss the earlier train? The last thing she needed was time in which to think. She felt guilty every time she thought of him reading the note she’d left; and she was dreading the weeks and months ahead, having to get used to being without him all over again.
What other choice did she have, though? In the small, self-contained world of the Chalet School, a mere couple of hundred people, of whom only a minority were adults, lived under the same roof, day after day, together; and yet she’d never dream of going to sit in the staffroom and chatting to one of the middle class teaching staff any more than one of them would dream of coming to sit in the domestic staff’s sitting room and chatting to her or one of the maids. Society didn’t allow for gaps like that to be bridged even for friendship, much less for marriage.
She was relieved when the train finally arrived. Now all she had to do was catch the Innsbruck train at Spartz and then board the next Zurich train at Innsbruck, and she’d be away from here. Back to Switzerland, not that she was looking forward to that: she’d felt at home back in Tyrol over the last twelve days in a way that she’d never done and never would do in the Bernese Oberland. Back to real life. Back to her kitchen with its stove that never went out. And, once his niece’s wedding was over, he’d be going back to his hotel in Boston and the life that he’d made for himself there …and she’d never see him again … and she’d always be thinking “What if?” …
The road away from the Schloss Wertheim was, as Karen had found earlier, partially blocked by roadworks. All Rudi could see ahead of him was a long line of traffic. He wished that people would stop hooting their horns: doing that wasn’t going to make the cars in front move any more quickly, unfortunately. Maybe he’d be better trying to drive straight to the Gornetz Platz. No, he couldn’t do that. Quite apart from the fact that he had no idea of the way, he hadn’t got his passport with him. For now, he was just going to have to head for the Innsbruck Bahnhof and hope for the best.
Of course, although he hadn’t been here for a long time, he’d been born and bred in this part of the world. A lot of these busy main roads hadn’t been here in his youth. He knew a few back routes that other people would probably never think of. With a bit of luck, he’d be able to make it to Innsbruck before Karen did after all.
Karen left the mountain train at Spartz and asked for the time of the next train to Innsbruck. It would be the train coming from Salzburg, she knew. She was told that the next one was due into Spartz station in about twenty minutes’ time. That wasn’t too bad at all. She decided to have another go at reading the next chapter of her book: it wasn’t a particularly good one but it would help to pass the time.
Then an announcement came over the loudspeaker. “We are sorry to announce that the train arriving from Wien, via Salzburg, is running approximately quarter of an hour late due to engine trouble. We apologise for any inconvenience that this may cause to your journey.”
Karen went over to the ticket office. “Is there no other way of getting from here to Innsbruck?” she asked urgently, hoping that she didn’t sound too abrupt. “I understand that the train from Salzburg’s running late, but I have to get to Innsbruck and I haven’t got any time to spare. I need to get on a train to Zurich as soon as possible.” She’d have to change at Zurich for Interlaken, but she’d worry about that when she got there. Her concern at the moment was getting away from Tyrol. Tyrol, where everything important that had ever happened in her life had taken place: maybe it was fate that he should have come back here at just the same time as she’d come back here.
She made herself abandon her thoughts as the man at the desk looked up at her. “Zurich? There’s no need to change at Innsbruck,” he said. “The next train from Salzburg’ll take you straight through to Zurich. It’s the cross-border train.”
“Are you quite sure?” Karen asked in amazement. “Coming the other way I was definitely told to change at Innsbruck.”
“It depends on the time of the train,” the man told her. “Not all the Salzburg-Innsbruck trains run as far as Zurich, and not all the cross-border trains call at Spartz. This next train, which comes from Wien and then Salzburg, definitely goes on to Zurich after it’s called at Innsbruck.”
“Thank you!” Karen said. That made life much easier! Now all she had to do was get on this train and stay on it. She wouldn’t have to change at the Innsbruck Bahnhof after all.
Karen sat back in her seat as the train hurtled along on its way from Spartz to Innsbruck, and thought about how long it was likely to take to get from here to Zurich, from Zurich to Interlaken, and from Interlaken back to the Gornetz Platz. It would be a long journey, but by some point during the afternoon she’d be back at the Chalet School.
And the School authorities would think that good old Karen had come back early because the School was her entire life and she hadn’t know what to do with herself whilst she’d been away from it. And even if they did know what had really happened, they wouldn’t care as long as she made sure that all their cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing got done as and when they expected it. When, instead, she could be spending the rest of her life with someone who, amazingly, really cared about her, as much as she cared about him.
For a moment, she was so sure that she’d made the wrong decision that she almost decided to leave the train at Innsbruck, go back and hope desperately that he’d forgive her for running away like she had done and that he’d still want to marry her. There had to be some way that they could be together, some way that she could be accepted into his world. Maybe they could dream up a more suitable background for her, one that his friends and business associates wouldn’t be able to object to: maybe one of the doctors’ wives at the Gornetz Platz could give her some sort of training in how to behave like a proper middle class wife. Would he expect her to give afternoon tea parties like Frau Doktor Maynard did, she wondered wildly.
No: now she was being ridiculous. Even if she did try pretending to be something that she wasn’t and somehow managed to convince people of it, she knew that she’d never be able to live that sort of lie for long … and, anyway, his family would always know exactly who she was. But both of them would always be unhappy if they were apart. What was the answer? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know what to do.
Rudi reached the Innsbruck Bahnhof at last, parked the car and rushed into the station building. As he looked around frantically for Karen, he saw an elderly lady who was obviously finding it difficult to carry all her luggage, and knew that he couldn’t leave her to struggle. “May I assist you, meine Frau?” he asked. When she told him that she’d be very grateful for his assistance, he picked up her bags for her, saw her safely to her platform, walking as quickly as she could keep pace with, then looked around to see if there was some sort of noticeboard anywhere.
“I need to find out where the Spartz train arrives or where the Zurich train leaves from,” he muttered, more to himself than to her; but she heard and smiled at him. “They are one and the same at this time of day, mein Herr. The Spartz train stops here only briefly before continuing on its way to Zurich. Passengers travelling on from Spartz to Switzerland will have no need to leave the train here.”
He couldn’t believe it. Now what did he do?
“We are sorry to have to announce that this service will terminate at Innsbruck. Due to continuing problems with the engine, it will be necessary for all passengers to leave the train at Innsbruck. A replacement service will be provided as soon as possible for those passengers travelling on to Zurich and all stations in between. We apologise again for any inconvenience that this may cause. Please ensure that you have all your belongings with you when you leave the train. Once again, we are sorry to have to announce that this service will terminate at Innsbruck.”
Karen got off the train at the Innsbruck Bahnhof and made her way tearfully to the nearest seat whilst she tried to work out what she should do. Should she get on the replacement train to Zurich when it arrived, or should she turn back? If she went straight back to the Schloss Wertheim, would he still be there? And would he even want to see her, after she’d just walked out on him like that and said that she didn’t think they should see each other again. But if she just went back to Switzerland and left it like this, would she always regret it? At the moment, she didn’t think that she’d be able either to ask for a ticket back to Spartz or to ask where the replacement train to Zurich would be leaving from without starting to cry, so, before she did anything at all, she was going to have to stay put for a few minutes whilst she tried to calm herself down.
Rudi hadn’t quite been sure exactly what he’d been going to do when the Zurich train arrived, but he hadn’t had time to think about it before the train had pulled into the station, the doors had opened, and hordes of disgruntled people had poured out, all complaining volubly about the inadequacies of the public transport system and the inconvenience of having to wait at Innsbruck until a replacement train arrived. He found an emotional Karen a couple of minutes later, sitting on one of the seats at the end of the platform, staring at the ground and wiping away tears from her eyes. Not quite sure of what sort of reaction he was going to get and deciding that it was best to tread carefully, he sat down beside her and handed her his handkerchief.
“There’s supposed to be something very romantic about train stations,” he said wryly. “They seem to feature in a lot of films. Can’t see why myself: they always seem rather noisy and dirty to me. I gather that there’s a problem with the train going back to Switzerland.”
“I don’t want to go back to Switzerland,” she said miserably. She looked up at him. “I’m only going back because it seems like the only thing to do, for both our sakes: I don’t want to go back. I want to be with you.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” he said gently. “Wasn’t saying that we should never see each other again and then trying to flee the country a bit drastic, Karen? What could possibly have been so bad that you couldn’t have talked to me about it?”
Karen shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I just panicked. Everything was happening so quickly and the more I thought about it all the more it just seemed impossible.” She stopped there, unable to say any more, her eyes filling with tears again. He wanted to put his arms round her and tell her that everything was all right, but everything wasn’t all right and it was never going to be if they didn’t discuss all this sensibly and rationally. They’d both acted too hastily: both of them had always been too good at doing that; but now they were going to have to sit down and talk everything through slowly and calmly. What was more, they might be better off trying to do so in a public place, where the conversation wouldn’t end up with Karen shouting at him, him refusing to be put off by her temper and then the two of them falling into each other’s arms without anything having been resolved at all.
“Well, if you don’t really want to go back to Switzerland, how about coming to have a coffee with me instead?” he asked. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you look as if you need one. And I certainly do: I’ve just been on a mad chase halfway round Tyrol, trying to catch up with you.”
Karen managed a watery smile. “That’s better,” he said, touching her hand tenderly. “I can’t bear seeing you so upset. Come on. I’ll carry your suitcase for you. The café’s just over there. Let’s talk everything through, then we can decide what to do about it all, together.”
He picked up the suitcase with one hand, Karen clung tightly to his other hand, and they walked slowly towards the station café. He hoped that the coffee served there would be nice and strong. This conversation was inevitably going to be neither short nor easy.
There was hardly anyone else in the station café and Rudi found them a table in a quiet corner. Once the waitress had left their drinks on the table and gone away again, there was no-one else within earshot. “The coffee’s boiling hot,” he said softly. “I don’t want you trying to throw it over me. Had I better hold your hand to make sure that you can’t?”
Karen nodded and he reached over and took both her hands in his. “Please don’t look so nervous,” he said. “Not with me. I’m not going to ask you anything that you don’t want me to. I should never have rushed things like that in the first place. I was asking you to make a lot of changes in your life, all very suddenly; and I knew that something wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you,” she said. “You know it’s not you. It’s everything else.”
“Can’t you tell me? I think I can probably guess at most of it, but we’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t talk to me about it. Please will you tell me, Karen? Everything? I promise that I won’t say a word until you’ve finished.”
He was as good as his word and he sat in silence whilst she told him everything that was troubling her, although he did shake his head vigorously and squeeze her hand tightly when she said that she was afraid that she’d be an embarrassment to him. Once she’d started talking she found that the words came much more easily than she’d expected, and she poured out all her worries about how she didn’t want to come between him and his family; how she was frightened that the people he knew in Boston wouldn’t accept her and that she’d make him a social outcast; how she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to cope with living in a big city in a country that she knew so little about, whose language she didn’t speak properly and where she wouldn’t know anyone except him; and how she actually enjoyed being a cook and she was afraid that she’d be bored and lonely all day whilst he was out at work.
“It’s not that I’m not willing to try,” she insisted. “I want us to be together so much. But marriage is for life and we come from different worlds and I’m frightened that we’ll both end up being unhappy. There’s no point pretending that all these problems don’t exist, because they do.”
“All right,” he said when she’d stopped speaking. “I understand everything that you’re saying; but I honestly don’t think that there’s anything that there isn’t a way round. My turn to speak now. Hear me out, Karen.”
“About my family,” Rudi began. “You do know that I’d always put you first, ahead of anyone else, don’t you?”
“I don’t want to come between you and your relations,” Karen said.
He stroked her hand. “I know that the way my mother and father treated you was appalling, and I’ve not always found them easy to get on with myself; but you’d find my brother and his family very different. I’m sure you’d like them, and I know that they’d like you. My sister-in-law’s had her differences with my parents herself: my father more or less browbeat my brother into sending Gretchen to the Chalet School when she was only ten, when my sister-in-law wanted her to stay at the perfectly good day school she’d been at in Innsbruck, just round the corner from where they lived. And my parents have never approved of me; and that’s because of me, not because of you.”
“You said that you were going to try to make things up with them, though,” she said. “I didn’t get to see very much of my parents in the last years before they died: they were in Austria, and I was with the school in England and then in Wales. I couldn’t really have come over here any more often than I did, but there’s never a day goes by that I don’t regret not having had more time with them. I don’t want to be the reason that you can’t put things right with your mother and father and spend time with them whilst you’ve got the chance. And we both know what they’d say if you turned up at the Kron Prinz Karl with me.”
He shook his head. “A lot’s happened over the course of the last twenty-one years, Karen. They’re not getting any younger, and living through another war and years of foreign occupation’s made most people see things differently. Gretchen told me that they seemed quite pleased when she told them that I was coming here for the wedding. It sounds as if they’ve mellowed, and hopefully that means that they’d be willing to accept both me and you; but if they weren’t then I’m afraid that that’d be their fault. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did then surely we shouldn’t let them come between us again, Karen. Haven’t they done enough of that?”
Karen nodded. He was right. She’d try: she’d grit her teeth and do her level best to get old Herr and Frau Braun to accept her relationship with their younger son; but, if they didn’t like it, then, as he’d said, it would be their fault. She and Rudi had been apart all these years because of their families: they were more than entitled to be together now.
“As to thinking that people wouldn’t accept you, or this idea that you could somehow show me up, I wish you wouldn’t think like that; but exactly what sort of life do you think I live? How many events like last night’s do you think I go to in a year? I’m hardly a member of the nobility like the von und zu Wertheims, am I? I’ve had to work for everything I’ve ever had, Karen: everyone in my family has. Don’t you remember my mother and my father working alongside each other at the Kron Prinz Karl?
“I don’t even know that many people in Boston: settling into life in a big city in a foreign country isn’t that easy, as you said yourself. It’s a wonderful city but it’ll never be home to me in the way that Tyrol is. And this is me you’re talking to: do you really think that I’d mix with the sort of people who judge someone purely on their job or their background or which knife and fork they use? I don’t live that sort of life, Karen: I never have done. And even if anyone were to say anything they shouldn’t about you, do you really think that I’d still want anything to do with them after that?
“Anyway … we wouldn’t necessarily have to live over there, live even the way that I’m doing at the moment, at all. I’ve got something to suggest, something that I was going to tell you about last night. It’s only an idea, just tell me if you don’t like any of it … but … well … would you be happier if we could live somewhere in Tyrol and work together?”
Karen hadn’t expected that. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to try to adapt to a totally alien lifestyle if the two of them were to be together … so what was he suggesting now? Trying not to let herself hope for too much, she looked down at the table, then looked up at him again. “Tell me what you mean,” she said.
“I told you last night that Robert and I had decided that the idea of organising conferences in Tyrol seemed like a good one, and also that we’d decided that the Tyrolean resorts looked like becoming very popular with tourists before long. What I should have said next, before I said anything else, was that we’d decided to open a hotel of our own here. The original idea was to employ someone locally to manage it for us. However, we’re going to need someone who’s used to dealing with the American market to be in Tyrol for at least part of the time, to organise the conferences; and we both think that that ought to be me because I know the area. And it wouldn’t really make much sense for me to be splitting my time between two continents and incurring a fortune in travel costs when we could get someone to manage the hotel in Boston as easily as we could get someone to manage a hotel in Tyrol.
“And I want to come back to Austria, Karen. I like New England but I’m ready to come home. Not to Briesau, it’s not a big enough resort and anyway I don’t think that being too close to my mother and father would be a good idea, but maybe Kitzbuhel or Kirchberg, or more probably Mayrhofen. I don’t really know anyone in Mayrhofen but I’ve heard people say that it’s a friendly place and that you soon meet people, especially if you’re running a business there. And I’m very much hoping that it’s what you want as well, Karen. You’ve said that you hoped that the School’d move back to Austria one day; you’ve been sounding as if you want to come home as much as I do; but tell me if I’ve got it all wrong or if I’m assuming too much.”
“You haven’t got it all wrong and you’re not assuming too much,” she said shyly. “Mayrhofen sounds lovely. Wouldn’t you find it very different though, after running a big hotel in a city centre? The Tyrolean resort hotels, even the larger ones, only tend to be small.”
“Oh, I’d have more than enough to do, with the conferences to organise as well. Anyway, I’ve had enough of working all hours, taking paperwork home with me to keep me company: I always told myself that I’d never let my life get like that, but I have done. However, as you said, the hotels here tend to be very different from the one that I’m used to: they don’t have “management teams” like my hotel in America does. In fact, they tend to be family-run, like my parents’ hotel is. Usually by husbands and wives … which wouldn’t really be very good for a lonely old bachelor like me.
“And I know where I am with the business side of hotels but I don’t think I’d be all that good at organising the domestic side of things efficiently. Then there’s a problem in that the hotels in Tyrol tend to pride themselves on the quality of their food and I can’t cook to save my life: the staff at my hotel would tell you that I was my own hotel restaurant’s best customer, embarrassingly enough. And the restaurants at all three of the American hotels have the same menu so I don’t even have to worry about what goes with what, but it’s different here: the hotels usually offer a choice of two or three meals but it’s three different choices every night of the week.
“Am I making any sense, Karen? Like I said, it’s only an idea; and I haven’t had very long to think about it: tell me if you don’t like it. The coffee’s probably stone cold by now, so you can throw it at me if you’ve think I’ve got a nerve suggesting all this … but I thought that it’d be better than Boston for both of us, and you keep saying that you enjoy your job, and you said that you wouldn’t want not to work …”
“It’s perfect,” she said. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: she was still trying to take it all in. “You couldn’t have suggested anything better. But you’re not just saying that you want to come back to Austria and change your whole way of life because of everything I’ve said, are you? And your business partner won’t mind?”
“I can’t think that quickly! No; it’s a genuine business idea and we were planning to open a hotel here anyway … although even if we hadn’t been then I’d have suggested it if it’d would have meant that you’d say yes to me, Karen. And Robert’ll be quite happy about it, it’ll make no difference to him whether I’m here and there’s a manager in Boston or vice-versa. The only difference from his point of view will be that he’ll be dealing with both you and me as partners here instead of just me; and I know that the two of you’ll get on. Are you sure about it, though? It’s going to mean a lot of changes for you as well as for me. You don’t have to decide now. I’ll wait as long as you want.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “I told you, it’s perfect. You and me together. Back home in Tyrol. Being able to run things without Miss Annersley giving out orders about what sort of oven blacking to use.” She giggled. “Don’t ask! And we’ll get to know people in Mayrhofen, won’t we? Plus it’s close enough to Briesau and to Innsbruck for us to see plenty of the people we want to see there, and it’s not really all that far from the Gornetz Platz for visiting.”
“It’ll take a while to organise everything,” he said. “I’ll still have to go back to America after Gretchen’s wedding, but it won’t be for long and then I’ll be back here, and we’ll have plenty of time together before everything’s ready.” He smiled at her. “Are you really sure? And are you happy?”
“I’m really sure. And I’m very happy,” she said.
“Good. Now, I hate to return to more mundane matters, but seeing as the coffee’s gone cold and that I’m starving because I came chasing after you without having anything to eat first, may I suggest that we order some more drinks and see what they can offer here for a very late breakfast? And then that we go? There’s still one more question that I need to ask you, a very important question, and a train station café really isn’t the right place for it!”
“Where are we going?” Karen asked suddenly when they’d got to the car and he was holding the door open for her. “I can’t go back to the Schloss Wertheim. I told the Countess that I had to leave early because the School’s kitchen ceiling had fallen in!”
Rudi laughed. “Was that the best you could manage? Oh well, you did a lot better than me: I just left a message saying that some urgent business had cropped up in Innsbruck overnight, which I don’t suppose for a minute that anyone will actually have believed! I’m going to have to apologise profusely when I go back to collect my things: I dread to imagine what they must all be thinking about me! But just now, no; we’re not going to the Schloss Wertheim.”
“Where are we going, then?” she asked.
He grinned. “Wait and see!”
“I am not getting in that car until I know where we’re going!” she said furiously.
“Suit yourself, but I’m ready to leave and you won’t get very far without me,” he said, walking round to the driver’s side of the car and getting in. “I’ve just put your suitcase in the boot and you put your purse and your train ticket in it!”
Karen got into the car. She’d intended to give him a black look, but instead she pulled a face at him and they both started laughing. “You haven’t really changed very much, have you?” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder affectionately.
“Neither have you,” she said. “And I feel more like myself than I’ve done in years. I’ve spent all these years living with people who only see me as Karen-the-cook. Now I feel that I can just be Karen, at last.” She smiled at him. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
She realised before long that they definitely weren’t heading for the Schloss Wertheim: they were heading for the Tiernsee. He parked the car not far from the Kron Prinz Karl, and she looked at him questioningly. “It’s all right: I’m not going to suggest that we go there,” he said, as they got out of the car. “Not today, anyway. But I did think that it might be nice to revisit some old haunts around Briesau. I haven’t been here for a long time: too long. I certainly never thought that I’d be coming back here with you. We’ve been so lucky to have found each other again, Karen.”
She’d studiously avoided coming too close to the area around the Kron Prinz Karl when she’d been here the week before – which seemed like months ago now, given how much had happened since then. Everywhere around here reminded her of him. Even when the School had still been in Briesau she’d tried not to come near here: it would have been too painful. “I never came here, after you’d gone,” she said. “It would have felt all wrong, being here when you weren’t here.” She could feel tears coming to her eyes again: she was so happy now and at one time she’d thought that she’d never be happy again. “I missed you so much and I felt so lost without you. It wasn’t so bad when Marie Pfeifen was at the School with me, but then she went to live up at the Sonnalpe and I was so lonely. I had no idea where you’d gone; and I wasn’t even supposed to mention your name.”
He put his arm round her. “I know all about being lonely, Karen; believe me. But we’re together now, and hopefully soon we always will be. I’ve not upset you by bringing you here, have I? I was hoping that it might bring back happy memories.”
She smiled at him. “It does. Over there, just where that tree is, was where you met me to take me to the ice carnival. It was absolutely freezing when we got to the lake, and you insisted on taking your coat off and wrapping it round me so that I wouldn’t be cold. You said that you’d be all right because you’d soon warm up once you’d had a Schnapps.”
“And you said that my father’d go mad if he could see me having a drink out on the ice, because he thought that anyone who did that was “rough”! Oh dear, was it really all so long ago? We’ll have to come back here next time there’s an ice carnival, and see if it’s still just as good!”
Karen laughed. “I’ll hold you to that: I’d love to go to another ice carnival! And just here is where I ran into you that Sunday evening when I was coming back from my parents’ house. This is the exact spot: I’ve never forgotten it.”
“Nor have I.” He shook his head and smiled. “It really was a genuine coincidence, but you looked at me very suspiciously. I was sure you thought I’d been lying in wait for you!”
Karen blushed. “I’d completely and utterly fallen for you by then,” she said. “I knew that you’d realised; and I didn’t know what you were going to say. I thought you were going to laugh at me.” She looked up at him. “Until everything you said that evening, I didn’t understand that you felt that way about me too.”
“Well, I did,” he said quietly. “I still do. I loved you then, and I love you now, Karen. And I always will do.” He took the box containing the diamond ring out of his pocket and knelt down in front of her. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
Karen might have been very nervous about setting foot inside the Kron Prinz Karl and seeing old Herr and Frau Braun for the first time in twenty-one years, but she was determined not to show it even for a moment.
On the Tuesday night she’d stayed at Anna’s aunt and uncle’s home, as she’d arranged before leaving for the Schloss Wertheim the week before. She’d worn her engagement ring on a chain round her neck because she hadn’t wanted to tell them the news until she’d told Anna (which she was going to do as soon as she got back to Switzerland on Thursday), but at Rudi’s insistence it was now back on her finger. He’d spent the night in Innsbruck as he’d originally planned, having retrieved his belongings from the Schloss Wertheim late on Tuesday and apologised to a bemused Count and Countess for having left first thing in the morning and been gone all day.
Marie von und zu Wertheim, who didn’t believe a word of Rudi’s story about urgent business in Innsbruck any more than she’d believed a word of Karen’s garbled tale about the kitchen ceiling having fallen in, wondered why on earth two people should suddenly have started acting so strangely; but it all became clear when she received a letter from the happy couple a few days later, explaining everything. It might be an unconventional match in some ways, she supposed, but she hoped that they’d be very happy together and wrote back immediately to say as much. He was such a nice man even if he did have some rather strange ideas; and if anyone deserved to be happy then Karen did. She thought it was all rather lovely that, after they’d been parted all those years ago, they should have met up again so unexpectedly at her house party. It had obviously been fated.
Rudi had telephoned his mother and father on the Wednesday morning to say that he was coming to see them that afternoon if that was convenient, and that he had something important to tell them. He’d promised Karen that they could leave at once if either of his parents said anything that offended her but, having lost her own parents, she was determined to make sure that he didn’t end up being permanently estranged from his. She’d wondered about whether or not they’d realise who she was at first, but she saw recognition on both their faces as soon as she walked into the room at Rudi’s side. Then she saw in their eyes comprehension of and shock at what was going on before a word had been said, as the sunlight coming through the windows flashed on the diamond ring on her finger.
She saw them both open their mouths to speak, and she faced them with a glare that said that she wasn’t going to allow anything they said to get to her and that if they upset her fiancé then they’d have her to deal with and they wouldn’t find it a pleasant experience. Both of them closed their mouths again at once.
After that, they were all painstakingly polite to each other, but by the time they’d all seen each other on a few more occasions the atmosphere between them was beginning to ease. She got the feeling that they deeply regretted having seen so little of their younger son over the years and were anxious to make an effort to build bridges with both him and Karen, especially given that they were going to be living not far away; and for his sake she did her best to get along with them. As for the rest of his family, she found his brother and sister-in-law friendly and welcoming, and Gretchen (who insisted that she remembered Karen from the Chalet School years before and couldn’t wait to have her as an aunt) and her fiancé were both delightful and insisted that she must come to their wedding.
Anna cried when Karen told her her news, and that set Karen off crying as well. Joey Maynard came into the Freudesheim kitchen at that point and demanded to know what was going on, and was very disgruntled when neither of them would tell her. Karen wanted to do things properly and tell people at the School herself, and she knew very well that telling Frau Doktor Maynard anything was tantamount to broadcasting it on the wireless. She promised Anna that she’d write as often as possible and Anna promised to do the same, and they both reminded each other that it wasn’t that far from the Gornetz Platz to Mayrhofen.
Hilda Annersley nearly collapsed with shock when a blushing Karen came to her office (unbidden) and announced that she was engaged to be married and would be leaving as soon as was convenient. She was even more stunned to learn that Karen’s intended wasn’t some lonely goatherd or suitable similar equivalent, but was none other than the younger son of dear old Herr and Frau Braun! Whatever next? Judging by the look on Karen’s face, it was a genuine love match … which was all very well, but where on earth were they going to find someone else who’d do everything that Karen did and who’d understand all the School’s wonderful traditions? And the timing really couldn’t have been worse.
“Well, I don’t know what we’re going to do without you,” she said. “Especially this term of all terms. All the girls from St Mildred’s are moving into the main School to enable their building to be used as accommodation for visitors during the coming of age celebrations, so there’s going to be far more cooking and cleaning and so on to be done than usual; and we were taking it for granted that you’d see to it all. Then we’re expecting record numbers for the Sale, and we were assuming that you’d organise refreshments for everyone. I don’t even know where to start looking for anyone else, and it might not be all that easy to find someone who’ll appreciate all the School’s little ways.”
She shook her head in bewilderment. She was going to have to have a strong cup of coffee, maybe even one without any cream in it. “This is all very sudden. Are you sure that you wouldn’t like to wait a little while longer? You could wait until the School chapels are built and then have the wedding here: we’d let you use the Speisesaal for the reception.”
Karen was fuming. She’d wanted so much to leave on good terms, and she really had done her best to try to make that possible. She hadn’t told anyone at the Gornetz Platz, apart from Anna, her news before she’d told the Head: she’d offered to stay on until they could find someone else: she’d even offered to write notes as to how everything worked in case they were of help to her successor. Over twenty years she’d worked at this School, and this was the thanks that she got for it. She wished that she’d brought her sharpest knife from the kitchen with her, and told Hilda Annersley exactly where she could stick it.
“Do you have any idea of just how much work I’ve put in at this School over the years?” she demanded furiously. “Not just me, but everyone who works with me as well. I bet you don’t even know half their names: they just get referred to as “Karen’s minions”! Being treated as if we haven’t got an ounce of intelligence between us.” That was something that really rankled with all the domestic staff - the patronising way in which they were spoken to, as if they were all stupid.
“Constantly being short-staffed because you’d rather pay for new gym equipment or extra pianos than employ enough domestic staff, even though you don’t pay anything like as much as the hotels do. Being told what sort of oven blacking we should and shouldn’t use: I’d like to see you even try to clean an oven! Providing mugs of hot milk all round every time one of the girls decides to disturb all the others in the middle of the night. Cleaning the floors for a second time in one day when they’ve all been out in the snow and then tramped through the corridors in their wet boots, on their way to spending the rest of the afternoon sitting around drinking hot chocolate which we’ve had to make. Not to mention her next door giving me her special recipe for fruit juice – which I know for a fact is actually Anna’s recipe anyway! – and then expecting me to make enough of it for the whole School and everyone at Freudesheim besides. Twenty-one years I’ve been here, and I’ve given my all to this School, because I was grateful to you for employing me when I was a young girl from a poor family during difficult times and later because I liked to think of it as my home; and you can’t even manage to be pleased for me when I tell you that I’m getting married.” She was too upset to say any more.
Hilda, temporarily rendered speechless by this tirade from someone she’d always thought secretly worshipped the ground she walked on, was now feeling very guilty at her insensitivity. She thought of the way that Karen had worked to keep the school well-fed throughout the years of rationing, of the times that Karen had managed to put meals on the table even though the snow had been so severe that it had been impossible to get fresh supplies for days on end, of all the cleaning and washing and ironing that was done daily, of the picnic meals that were always made ready at short notice on days when the girls and the teaching staff went off on rambles or expeditions and the domestic staff were left behind at the School, and of all the rest of the hard work that she and all the other “upstairs” staff so often just took for granted.
“I apologise,” she said. “You’ve been with us for so long and it never occurred to me that you might want anything more than to carry on doing what you have been doing. I’m sorry. I should never have said what I did. I want you to know how much we appreciate everything that you and the rest of your department have done for the School over the years, and I regret the fact that that hasn’t been made clear. I’d be very grateful if you’d stay on for a few weeks whilst we try to make alternative arrangements and I’ll be very sorry for the School’s sake to see you go, but I wish you every happiness in your new life. You deserve it.”
The reaction that Karen got when she shyly told the rest of the domestic staff her news surprised and touched her. Although she’d always got on well enough with them all, she’d never really been sure what any of them really thought of her, the foreigner in their midst who ruled the kitchen with a rod of iron. The maids and Gaudenz’s wife Lisa all told her how much they were going to miss her, in between sighing sentimentally about how lovely it all was. Even Gaudenz said gruffly that he supposed he’d miss her ordering him about and that this Austrian fellow had better look after her.
The girls, from the Juniors to the Sixth Formers, all thought that it was wonderfully romantic; and went on saying so for days on end, until Matron declared that she’d never known such an outbreak of soppiness at the School in all the years that she’d been there and Joey Maynard got quite jealous because no-one had made this much fuss when she’d got engaged to Jack.
Karen had agreed to stay on at the School for another four weeks, but, although in some ways she supposed that she’d miss the place, she was counting down the days until she could go home to Austria. There were all the wedding preparations to see to, and a lot to be done in Mayrhofen; and, more than that, she was missing Rudi very badly. It was impossible even to have a private telephone conversation at the Chalet School. She was very glad when, during her second week back at the School, he said that he’d drive over to Switzerland on the Friday evening, stay overnight in Interlaken, and come to the Gornetz Platz on the Saturday to take her out for the day. Miss Annersley, who’d been showing the domestic staff rather more consideration since Karen’s outburst in her office, had agreed to let her have the day off.
She’d put on her Sunday-best dress and shoes, but when she saw him standing there by the car she forgot about trying to look dignified and ran straight into his arms. “I’ve missed you,” she told him. “I’m beginning to wish that we’d decided to get married straight away now.”
“I’ve missed you too … what’s the matter?” She’d gone bright red and pulled away from him. She realised that someone must have heard her asking Lisa if she’d oversee the domestic arrangements on Saturday and explaining why and from what time, because there seemed to be dozens of faces staring out of the School’s numerous windows to see what her fiancé was like. Oh no. This was so embarrassing!
“Let’s get away from here very quickly!” she muttered. “Everyone’s looking at us!”
“Oh, let them look!” he said. “Anyway, I thought we’d spend the day in Interlaken if that’s all right with you, but I was hoping you’d show me a bit of the School first. You did say that you thought of it as your home. And I’d like to see where you work, so that I’ll be able to envisage where you are when I’m thinking about you during the daytime over the next couple of weeks.”
“Oh well, all right then,” she said. “Just quickly, though. And none of your militant socialist talk in my kitchen, please. I can just see the mistresses’ faces if all the domestic staff walked out on strike!” Then she giggled. “Actually, on second thoughts...! No; maybe better not!”
Karen finally left the Chalet School after over twenty years with one or two tears but definitely no second thoughts. She’d worked extra hard during her last few days there, determined that no-one would ever be able to say that she hadn’t left everything exactly as it should have been. They still hadn’t succeeded in sorting out a permanent replacement for her and, although it was no longer her concern, she was going to be interested to know how things turned out. Anna had promised to keep her posted as to everything that went on there.
Robert Howard, Rudi’s business partner, had said that he was happy to leave the arrangements for the hotel in Mayrhofen to Rudi and Karen, pointing out that they both knew far more about the area than he ever would. They were lucky in finding a hotel that had enjoyed a good reputation before the war but had somewhat fallen into decline in recent years: the elderly owners, who were now going to live with their daughter in Salzburg and were eager for a quick sale, had rather let things go. The building was structurally sound and perfectly designed for a hotel; but everything was going to need painting, a lot of the furniture and all the linen and bedding needed replacing, and Rudi had to squeeze Karen’s hand tightly to stop her from saying exactly what she thought when she saw the state of the kitchen.
It took a lot of hard work, but eventually things reached the stage where the place was going to be ready for them to move into after their wedding at the end of the summer, and to reopen for guests not long afterwards. They nearly came to blows a few times over the décor, the staffing and various other things: after years of being able to get the rest of the School’s domestic staff to do her bidding with a well-chosen word or a certain look, Karen at first found it quite a culture shock having to share the decision-making with someone who was just as determined as she was; but they both adapted to their new situation soon enough, and anyway she didn’t mind the odd argument as long as they could kiss and make up afterwards.
Once everything had been painted and all the new furniture and so on bought, Karen, ably assisted by the hotel’s female staff and various of her own and Anna’s female relations, and even by Rudi’s mother, set about cleaning the entire building to within an inch of its life. Rudi, the male staff and several male relations were instructed by the women as to where to put all the furniture, under the eagle eyes of Frau Pfeifen, Frau Braun and Karen’s aunt with whom she was staying, all of whom were getting a little too old to be on their hands and knees cleaning for too long.
“You don’t have to work as hard as you have been doing, my love,” Rudi pointed out to Karen one evening when the staff had all gone back to their homes or the various other places in Mayrhofen where they were staying until the reopening, everyone else had gone back to Briesau ahead of them and she’d insisted on carrying on working after they’d all left. He’d been back to America after his niece’s wedding to deal with everything there, but now they were both back in Tyrol and not intending to live anywhere else ever again. It had been a tiring few weeks for both of them: he’d had to keep going from Briesau, where he’d accepted his parents’ offer to stay with them until the wedding, to Innsbruck to deal with various financial matters and then to Mayrhofen to see to things there, and Karen had been working all hours at the hotel, as well as making the final preparations for the wedding.
“I want to,” she said.
“I know you do.” He put his arms round her. He knew exactly what it was: after years of working at the Chalet School and before that at his parents’ hotel, this was the first time that she’d ever had anywhere of her own to look after. It might be a hotel, but it was going to be their home as well. “We’re going to get someone else to give the place one last cleaning and dusting before we move in after the wedding, though,” he told her firmly. “I’m taking you on a long, relaxing honeymoon, and you’re not going to be lifting a finger to do any cooking, cleaning, ironing or anything else like that all the time that we’re away.” He kissed her. “And that’s an order!”
Karen snuggled close to him. It was hard to believe that she’d ever been so nervous at the thought of being his wife. She couldn’t wait for their wedding day now.
Karen had insisted on adhering to the old tradition whereby a bride made the shirt that her bridegroom wore for their wedding herself. She was determined that it was going to be as near to perfect as she could get it, and consequently she’d made Rudi try it on so many times that everyone who knew about it had started teasing her, him included.
“There can’t possibly be anything left to do to it!” he protested when she’d made him put the much-discussed shirt on for what she’d promised would be one last time before the wedding, with a week to go until the big day.
“I’m not having you getting married in anything that doesn’t look just right, especially not when everyone’ll know that I’ve made it!” she said firmly. “And will you keep still for two minutes? How am I supposed to see if it looks all right or not when you keep wandering round the room?” She looked at him critically, then nodded her head in satisfaction. “Yes, I think it’ll do; even if I do say so myself.” Then she burst into tears and threw her arms round him.
“Hey, what’s brought all this on?” he asked gently, stroking her hair. “Come on, Karen. You shouldn’t be crying like this when we’re getting married next week.”
Karen dried her eyes. “We used to play at being brides when we were little girls,” she said. “Marie and I. Madel and Anna and Rosa were all younger than we were, so we used to make them be the bridesmaids. Then, when I met you, I used to daydream about us getting married, even though I suppose I knew that we probably never would do … and now we are doing, after all this time. Sometimes I still can’t quite believe it.”
“Well, do believe it!” he told her. “We’re getting married exactly one week from now!”
Karen looked at him again. “Look what a mess I’ve made of your shirt now,” she said. “It’s absolutely full of creases. You’d better go and get changed, and I’ll ask your mother if I can borrow an iron.”
“Yes dear.” He wasn’t going to tease her this time: he’d heard enough about wedding shirts over the past few months to last him a lifetime! He smiled at her. “It’s you whom everyone’s going to be looking at, you know, not me. You’re the bride!”
Karen smiled back at him. He’d invited a few people from Boston to their wedding, and she supposed that they’d be expecting the bride to be wearing white as was customary over there. Then again, maybe they’d realise that she wouldn’t be. She hoped that she’d look all right in her traditional Tyrolean dress. Madel had assured her that it suited her very well, but she’d never had much confidence where her appearance was concerned.
She saw Rudi looking at her and realising what she was thinking. “You’ll look even more beautiful than usual on our wedding day,” he said. “Especially to me.”
*******************************************
Things had changed in Austria since Karen had been a young girl daydreaming about marrying the man who was now her fiancé. In those days, couples whom she’d known who wanted to get married had just gone to see the priest. She vaguely remembered that Miss Bettany and Dr Russell, as they’d been then, had had a civil ceremony as well as a religious ceremony, but that had only been because there’d been no system by which a Church of England ceremony could be registered in accordance with Austrian requirements.
Now, though, it was all different. Since 1938, the only marriages in Austria valid in law had been those carried out by an official of the Standesamt, the registry office; which meant that what was required to be officially married was a civil ceremony. She’d known that she wouldn’t feel truly married without having a religious service as well and that she wouldn’t feel comfortable going to live with him without being married in church; but she’d known that Rudi had never had much time for organised religion – she remembered, when she’d known him in their youth, being shocked at first by some of his comments about the reactionary attitude of the Church hierarchy – and she’d hoped desperately that they weren’t going to disagree about something that was so important to her.
However, when she’d broached the subject and nervously referred to some of his past comments, he’d reassured her at once. “None of that means that I’m a non-believer, Karen,” he’d said quietly. “In fact, I suppose that I’m much more of a Tyrolean Catholic at heart than I’d ever have admitted back then. Of course I want us to have both services as well.”
She’d told him mischievously about Miss Annersley’s suggestion about the school chapel. “I did say no,” she’d added hastily, and they’d both laughed. Countess von und zu Wertheim had written to offer them the use of the chapel at the Schloss if they’d like to have the wedding there, but added that of course she’d understand if they preferred to have the wedding at the Tiernsee. Karen had been touched by her kindness, and had written at once to thank her, but to say that they did indeed want to get married in Briesau, where they’d both been born and brought up and where they’d first met all those years ago.
Karen was trembling when she left her aunt and uncle’s house on her wedding day; and her nerves only began to settle when she arrived at the registry office and saw Rudi there waiting for her. The civil ceremony lasted about quarter of an hour, after which they left the building a few minutes apart to make their ways separately back to Briesau for the religious service.
By the time she reached the church, Karen’s feelings of nervousness had gone, and she gave her responses as clearly and calmly as her bridegroom did, although she was overcome with emotion and broke down in tears when the ceremony was over and Rudi kissed her as her husband for the first time.
Only a few people had attended the civil service with them – Anna, Karen’s aunt and uncle and Madel, Rudi’s parents and brother and sister-in-law, Gretchen and her new husband, Rudi’s friend and business partner Robert Howard, and Karen’s old friend Marie and her husband Andreas who’d managed to come to Austria for the first time in many years for the wedding. Karen was sad that her parents and brother hadn’t lived to see this day, but she was sure that they were watching over her and that they were happy for her.
Then the entire Chalet School domestic staff (it being school holiday time), the rest of Karen’s family, various relatives of the Brauns, many old friends from Briesau, a few friends from Boston, and some of the people they’d started to get to know in Mayrhofen also joined them for the church service and for the reception that followed. So too did the Count and Countess von und zu Wertheim, much to the delight of the elder Brauns who years later were still telling people about how there’d been titled guests at the wedding of their son and daughter-in-law.
The reception was in all the best traditions of the North Tyrol, although, once the meal and the speeches were over and the dancing started, Karen did insist on varying matters slightly by insisting that a few Viennese waltzes be included as well as the Schuhplatter and the other traditional Tyrolean dances.
“Please will you tell me where we’re going now?” she asked Rudi as they were getting ready to leave. He’d kept their honeymoon destination a closely-guarded secret and had refused even to say yes or no to any of her guesses.
“Innsbruck first, just for tonight,” he said. “It won’t take us long to get there, and I didn’t think we’d want to be travelling far tonight. Don’t want to be getting to our hotel room too late, do we?” He smiled at her.
Karen blushed deeply; but she smiled back at him. “Then where?”
“Italy. Well, South Tyrol, but it’s legally part of Italy even if most people round here do still insist that it ought to be part of Austria! We’re having a few days there, then we’re going to Lake Garda for the long, relaxing break I promised you. Then we’ll be coming back to Tyrol to start our new life.” He pulled her into his arms. “Little did I know when I came back to Austria in the spring that by the end of the summer we’d have found each other again and we’d be husband and wife and looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together.”
“Nor did I,” Karen said. She looked up at him. “But maybe some things are just meant to be.”
He held her close and she reflected that, although they’d had a very long wait, it was never too late to find true happiness and everything had come right for them in the end.
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