Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (112 page)

'I don't know. Me?'

Dani shook his head. 'Your father is like a phantom. He
has been known to appear and disappear at will. Once the
brigadier actually caught him, and he escaped right from under
his nose.' He paused and grinned, but his voice was low. 'Does
that change your mind about staying?'

'Yes,' she said a little too quickly. Giddily, she felt both
disturbed and immensely pleased. She wondered if he were
aware of the power he held over her. 'Yes,' she repeated more
slowly, huskily.

'I am glad that is settled, then. I shall send a message to Tel
Aviv so your friend need not worry about you. On Monday, someone will go fetch the rest of your luggage and drive your
friend here.'

She stared at him. 'You seem to have it all worked out.'

'I like to think so.' He smiled rakishly. 'You see, I enjoy your company. You are not like any woman I have ever
known.'

She felt an irrational pinch of jealousy. He was extraordi
narily handsome. Extremely masculine. There must have been
plenty of women.

He seemed to sense her thoughts and reached across the
table to take her hand in his. 'So, it is all set then, yes?'

She nodded dumbly.

'Good. I, for one, hope you like it here.' He flashed her that
lopsided grin that had been so evident yesterday but had been
lacking throughout the seriously conducted tour. 'You see, it
is very important to me that you do.'

'And why should that be?'

He leaned closer and held her gaze. 'Because I do not want
to move. I like it here.'

'Why should you have to move?'

'Because I intend to marry you.'

Chapter 27

But they didn't marry until more than a year had passed. She
wanted to make certain first that she was really in love with
Dani and that she could live happily on the kibbutz. Mean
while, she lived in her father's house so that she wouldn't have
to move into the single women's dormitory, something both
she and Dani agreed would cloud her view of communal living.
It turned out to be a favourable arrangement, since Schmarya
was gone most of the time and she usually had the house to
herself.

'If we were married, we could have a home of our own,'
Dani told her during one of his daily visits.

'I know,' she replied, 'but I'm not ready for that yet.'

'I love you.'

'I love you too. But if I find I go crazy living here, I don't want that to ruin a marriage. This place is your life, Dani.
Your soul is here. We both know that you wouldn't be happy
anyplace else. So please, don't rush me. I just need more
time.' She curled the chest hair which poked out of the V of
his half-open shirt around a finger.

'If that is all it is,' he said doubtfully.

'That's
all
it is,' she assured him.

And it was true. She simply wasn't ready to be rushed into
marriage. So far, the siren's call of Hollywood hadn't tempted
her at all. Making movies wasn't glamorous, it was hard work.
Nor did she miss Los Angeles. Here, away from the jungle of
city life, she could enjoy calm and introspection. Fans weren't
all over her wherever she went, screaming and clawing at her
and shoving autograph books in her face. Above all, here
there were no reminders of the painful past. At Ein Shmona,
every newcomer arrived with a clean slate and could have a
fresh start in life. For the time being, at least, she liked the feeling of being removed from the rest of the world and felt
at home. And why shouldn't I? she often asked herself. This was the rugged chosen land of her father, and tracing her
lineage back two or three thousand years to her forebears
would surely have led her to this same merciless terrain which
had been the chosen land of Moses and Esther and King David
as well. Although she couldn't have explained it, just being
here felt somehow
right.
The Biblical past seemed to come
alive for her.

For the first time in her life she felt Jewish, and she liked it.

Here was her past, and here, she hoped, would be her
future.

Meanwhile, there was more than enough to keep her busy.
She didn't want to be a burden, so she insisted upon doing her share by working in the fields. Not content with her ignorance
of Judaism, she set out to embrace and practise her faith wholeheartedly. She read books, went to temple, asked endless questions. Three evenings a week she attended classes in
Hebrew. After six months she was proficient enough to teach
drama and English classes in the school.

Everything was new and exotic and fascinating. She loved
the sabbath, with the solemn ritual of lighting the
Shabbas
nacht lichten,
the traditional foods, the stories of the Old Test
ament which were far more exciting than anything Hollywood
screenwriters had ever come up with. But she loved the holi
days best of all. That was when she really felt the gap between
the present and the ancient days closing, so that the centuries
seemed merged into one.

Of course, there were heartaches too. Inge hated the kib
butz. She stayed for three months, but then she couldn't take
it any longer. She loathed the constant heat, the lack of
seasons, the perpetual drought. She complained about the
scarcity of commonplace items she had always taken for
granted, and about the demands communal living made upon
her. Being Catholic, she felt like a perpetual outsider. 'It is a nice place to visit,' she said, 'but I do not think I could stay
here forever.'

One evening when Tamara came back after toiling in the
fields, she found Inge packing her bags. For a moment she
could only stare in shock. 'Inge! What are you doing?'

Inge did not look up. 'What does it look like I'm doing? I
am packing.'

'But you're not leaving already! Maybe if you give it a little
more time . . .'

Inge shoved the last stack of neatly folded blouses into a
suitcase and pressed down firmly on the lid with one hand.
With the other she snapped the latches shut and then straight
ened, clapping her hands as though to rid them of dust. She
turned to Tamara. 'There. I believe that is everything.'

Tamara came over and stood in front of her. 'But you can't
go!' Desperation was strong in her voice.

'Liebchen,
I must.'

'But how will I live without you?' Tamara asked wretchedly.
'We've been together ever since I was a baby!'

'You love Dani.'

Tamara nodded. 'Yes, I do.'

'Then I think you will live very happily without me,' Inge
said gently.

'But what are you going to do?'

'Remember the days I spent alone at the hotel in Tel Aviv
when you first came here?'

Tamara nodded.

'Well, then you will remember the people I told you I had
met, the Steinbergs.'

'The ones from Boston,' Tamara said glumly.

Inge nodded. 'They have written to me and want me to come to Boston. The children's governess has quit her job,
and they want me to fill the position. Linda and Marty Stein
berg are lovely children, and they need me. Mrs. Steinberg
wrote that I was the only person they ever took to so well.'

'I should never have left you alone at the hotel.'

Inge stood silent for a moment. 'Sooner or later, we would
have had to part, you know. The two of us could not live
together for the rest of our lives. All little birds need to fly and
make their own nests. Now that you have found yours, be
happy!'

'But are you really, really sure you don't want to stay? We
can make a whole new life for ourselves here, Inge! There's so much to be done! For the first time ever, I feel as though
I'm really needed.'

'What you are feeling is good.' Inge nodded. 'Knowing that
makes it much easier for me to leave.'

Tamara paced agitated little circles. 'There's so much good
you could do here too.'

Inge smiled. 'I am sure there is, and I will come back and
visit you from time to time. It is not as if we had a fight and are
parting enemies, never to see each other again.' She walked
around the bed and took Tamara's hands and held them. 'This
is a nice place to visit,
Liebchen,
but I prefer something
greener, with seasons.' She gave a wan little smile. 'I am a
little old to play pioneer, you know.'

'But you're not old!'

Inge regarded her with a tilted head and then stroked her
cheek. 'Tamara,' she said softly, 'everything is working out
for the best. Can you not see that? You have found a place
for yourself here, and I have found a place for myself.' She gave Tamara's hands an affectionate squeeze. 'You have a
whole new life ahead of you, and so do I. What more could
we ask for?'

'To be together,' Tamara said glumly.

'Tamara.' Inge sighed, let go of her hands, pulled up a chair,
and pushed Tamara down into it. She pulled up a chair
opposite. 'You have found your father, plus a handsome man
you love, and even an exciting new world. Be satisfied with that! You know I cannot be with you forever.'

Tamara looked across the room at the pieces of luggage.
There was something so infinitely sad about packed bags.

'Now do me a favour,' Inge said. 'Since I am leaving in the
morning, and have finished packing, let us spend the rest of
the evening together, drinking wine and reminiscing. I want
our last hours to be happy ones.'

Tamara forced a smile. 'All right.'

'Good. And who knows? Someday, perhaps, we will be
together again.'