Seductive Viennese Whirl (28 page)

I tell myself I should just make my excuses and leave, but to tell you the truth, I'm now even more intrigued. I tell myself I'll be on my merry way, just as soon as I get to the bottom of why he thinks he's the Count. Immediately I rule out the direct confrontational method. Shrieking:
Mad man! Imposter!
clearly isn't going to get the desired explanation. I figure I'm better off humouring him. "You know, this is most peculiar," I venture, giving him my most charming smile. "We are looking for a Count von Pappenberg, but you're not the man we're looking for, if that makes any sense."

"But I am the Count von Pappenberg," says the man, putting on the shirt and then sitting down and drying his feet. He pulls on his socks impatiently.

"You can't be!" I blurt, forgetting I'm meant to be humouring him.

"What is this nonsense?" he says, flushing. His amber eyes blaze and suddenly he's scaring me a bit, or turning me on, I'm not quite sure which. All I know is my heart is going like the clappers. "What have you come for? Do you want to buy some wine?" He picks up his boots, which are standing on top of the big cast iron stove and begins to pull them on.

"Wine? No. There's just been a bit of a misunderstanding," I say. "Maybe we could sort it out over a cup of tea. I am rather cold." I hug my anorak about me.

"If you haven't come to buy wine then I don't understand what you are doing here," he says, stuffing logs in the stove while sadly shaking his head. At which point Eva swaggers in and says, cool as a cucumber, "Actually, we've come to see the Count."

"This is Eva," I say, nodding in her direction.

He turns to look at her and gives her a grin.

"Ah, the infamous Eva Black."

Eva stops in the middle of pulling on some Peruvian handknitted mittens. "I don't know about infamous. Although that cover of
Rolling Stone
where I was naked apart from a strategically placed python was rather groundbreaking for its time."

He wrinkles his brow and puts his hand on his hip. "Now hang on a minute. Now
I'm
confused. I thought you were some kind of advertising executive."

"How come you know so much about me?" Eva says, clearly irritated. "On second thoughts, never mind. Just tell us where we can find the Count."

"I sure do know a lot about you," he says, bending down to light the stove. "For example, I know that you're a bit of an exhibitionist and that you used to date a big shot called McManus."

Eva narrows her eyes at him. "You've been reading his letters, haven't you? Just wait ‘til I tell him about this. He'll have you fired, I'll make sure of it."

"Can we calm down a little here," I say.

"I'm sorry, I'm just feeling a bit pissed off, if you must know," says Alex, pushing his wavy auburn hair out of his eyes. He turns to Eva. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have done it. But I replied to your letters because they were addressed to me."

"You?" shrieks Eva. "Can you believe him?" she says, turning to face me.

"Well, why not, they were nice letters. Can't believe they were written by a harridan like you, but still."

"What was that?" hisses Eva, taking a step towards him.

Stepping in between them I hold up my hands in a gesture of mature peace making. I'm sure that when we get to see the Count he'll be able to explain this whole mix-up, and maybe even explain why he's got a guy working for him who uses his name as a pseudonym.

"Look, I'm sorry if we haven't made ourselves clear. We're here to see Alex, the Count von Pappenberg. Would you kindly tell him we have arrived."

He sighs, exasperatedly, before throwing his arms up in the air. "Can't you two get it into your thick little heads? There is no other Count von Pappenberg. I am the Count." He pulls open the door of the grandfather clock. "And since these letters were addressed to me," he says, holding up Eva's letters and tossing them on the kitchen table, "I decided to write back."

My knees feel a bit weak, so I sink onto the long bench that runs around the kitchen table. As I peel off my boots and socks and put them by the stove, my mind starts doing somersaults, as it desperately tries to assimilate all the little bits of information.

Eva sits down beside me. She stares at him, not saying anything, the colour slowly draining from her face. I can only imagine how she feels. And I know I should be feeling the same. Expect that I don't. Strangely enough I find I don't care that I'll probably never see Alex number one again. Right now, all I can think about is
this
guy, in
this
room. I don't want to be anywhere else.

But it's clear that Eva doesn't feel the same way. At all. When she does finally speak it comes out as more of a whimper: "So, there's no other Count here, at all?"

"‘Fraid not," he says, giving her a grin. "You look like you're about to cry. Am I really that gross?"

She shakes her head as she dabs her eyes with a tissue and blows her nose in a great big unladylike snort.

"If it's any comfort your letters cheered me up enormously."

"Kate wrote them," Eva says, pointing in my direction.

"Ah, yes, that makes more sense," he says cryptically, raking back his hair. Then he goes over and pokes the logs in the stove until they start to spark. First he makes us both a cup of tea and then he sits down beside us, as if there was no more to say about the whole business, and starts chopping carrots.

Sitting in the warm kitchen, all time is suspended. I know Eva's fed up at not seeing the Count, but I couldn't be happier. This new Count is more complex, more mysterious and sexier than the original Count ever was. And I wrote to him, didn't I? He's not a total stranger after all. I'm quite content to watch him slicing carrots. I continue watching as he chops up potatoes and meat and onions, which he carries over on his wooden board and pops into a pot on the stove. Soon a wonderful aroma of simmering meat and onions fills the kitchen, making my stomach growl with hunger.

"I think we'd better be going," Eva says eventually. "Or we'll never get down that mountain. This has been one gigantic waste of time." As she gets to her feet, she slips on a wet patch on the floor, drops her bag and watches with horror as a pack of battered Camels tumbles out and lands at my feet.

I bend down and pick it up. "That's not the same manky pack of fags you had on the flight to Vienna back in August is it?"

While Eva is blushing and stuffing them back into her bag, I feel confused. Why is she still carrying McManus' emergency pack of cigarettes around?

But before I can ask her about it a car horn blasts outside and Alex looks up from stirring his stew. "Are you expecting anyone else?"

"Not that I know of."

I go over to the window to see a red van parking in front of the cottage. Snow has begun to fall so it's hard to make out who's inside. Eventually a figure in a bright blue anorak gets out and scurries up. He waves at us through the window and beams a broad smile.

"It's Ravi," I say to Alex. "I didn't invite him, I swear."

Ravi rushes in, throwing his arms around first me, then Eva. "Ah, friends, friends, it is good to see you again! But holy shit, it is cold!" He stomps his feet and brushes snowflakes from his anorak.

"This is Alex," I say, leading him over to the stove. Alex stirs the stew with one hand and shakes Ravi's hand with the other.

"Ravi Rawal."

"The name rings a bell. Let me think. Ah yes, you send me a money order, didn't you? But since I had no recollection of financing your um, your film equipment, I decided not to cash it."

Ravi draws his eyebrows drawn together in a frown, so they look like one huge bushy caterpillar.

"I sent the Count von Pappenberg a fraction of the money I owed him. I am hoping so much he will join us later. You are handling his financial affairs?"

"Yes, I suppose I am," says Alex, chuckling as he pours Ravi a cup of tea.

We all huddle around the kitchen table. Ravi starts to chatter nineteen to the dozen while Eva chews at a piece of hair, her head propped up on an elbow, watching snowflakes melt against the window. She gives a heavy sigh and says, "I think I just heard a car draw up."

"Impossible," says Alex. "No one but a lunatic would risk driving up here in a snow storm."

"Excuse me sir," says Ravi. "But I am no lunatic."

"You're right," says Alex. "Sorry. Me and my big mouth."

We all peer out the window, watching a shadowy figure get out of a taxi and move toward the house.

"Ah, now I will meet the Count?" Ravi says, his eyes shining with happiness.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I reply.

The kitchen door is kicked open and the man comes in. Snow swirls into the kitchen and Eva steps forward, looking at the guy like she's just seen a ghost. Although he's got his coat collar turned up and a tweed cap pulled down over his forehead, his nose is a dead giveaway.

"McManus," whispers Eva, running up and grabbing his lapel.

Pulling off his cap, he stares at her and as the seconds pass I can't help it, tears are springing into my eyes. It's so damned romantic. McManus coming all this way to tell Eva he loves her. That he's been a complete ass. That he wants to make her his wife.

Snow's still swirling around the kitchen. Just take her in your arms you damned idiot and carry her out, out into the snow …

The fantasy is abruptly curtailed as McManus brushes her hand off his lapel and kicks the door closed.

"I'm looking for Count von Pappenberg." Turning to Ravi he says, "You know him?"

"Yes, he is a most wonderful gentleman. Very generous with his money."

"Is he now?" says McManus.

"I'm Count von Pappenberg," says Alex, walking up to McManus and holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you." But instead of shaking his hand McManus lurches forward and punches Alex squarely in the eye with such force that Alex ends up on the floor.

"What are you doing?" screams Eva.

"That'll teach you to carry on with my woman behind my back," he says, looking down at Alex.

Eva crouches down beside Alex, holding her hand over her mouth. "God, I'm so sorry. Tell me you're all right?"

"I suppose you thought I'd never find out about your sordid little fling?" McManus says, gesturing in Alex's direction.

"What? I've never even seen this guy before today," says Eva, jumping up and going over to McManus.

"So you deny it?"

"You've got the wrong guy, you idiot," I say. I run a tea towel under the tap and bring it back to Alex, who's sitting on the floor near the stove. I put the wet cloth on his eye, and breath deeply of his scent: pine logs and bales of hay, all overlaid with a tantalizing musk. I'd love to bottle his scent and carry it around with me. I'd sniff it any time I was feeling down and sprinkle it on my pillow at night.

"Okay, I think I can manage now," Alex says, grabbing the cloth from me and pressing it against his eye. He goes over to the kitchen table, where McManus is shifting through Eva's letters, and taps him on the shoulder. McManus ignores him.

"This looks intriguing," McManus says, pulling a sheet of paper from one of the envelopes.

"Look here," Alex says, "are you going to give me any indication of why you just punched me or are you just going to stand there while I flatten you?"

McManus shoves Alex out of the way. "You're in my light," he says, holding a sheet up against the bulb dangling from the ceiling. Alex stares at him, clenching his fist as he tries to stop himself erupting in fury.

Holding the sheet up to the light, McManus begins to read while Eva jumps up and tries to grab the paper from his fingers.

"Give me that. You've absolutely no right! That's my private property."

"Interesting, very interesting. Licking bubbly off naked bodies. Very classy." He turns to face her, his face redder than I've ever seen it. "You know what, you're nothing but a cheap tart. Lola did warn me, but I didn't listen."

"You bastard. Give me that."

"Whore!" McManus bellows, pushing open the door and rushing out, waving the letter above his head.

"Asshole!" Eva shrieks, disappearing after him.

Alex stares after them, shaking his head, while Ravi, at the kitchen table, looks awfully pale.

"Love," I say, giving Ravi a shrug and a smile. "You know how it is."

Ravi looks more confused than ever so I decide that now might be a good time for a swift change the subject.

Sliding myself next to him onto the bench I say, "Anyhow, what brings you to these parts?"

"I am wanting to make a film in this Schloss, with your permission, sir." Although Alex's eye socket is turning a delicate shade of lilac, I'm relieved the effect doesn't detract from his overall gorgeousness.

"Sure, why not." He gives a wan smile. "The more the merrier. When were you thinking of starting?"

"Oh, in a couple of days, I am thinking. My crew, Anil, Shamila, they are in a pension in Alpenbach. A location scout checked out this Schloss and could not stop raving about it. It will be just perfect for our scene with the Rapunzel character in the big tower. The snow will look wonderful. I do hope it will not have melted by the time we start our shoot."

"That'll be the least of your worries, I can assure you," says Alex, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge. "Anyone like a glass?"

I say, "Ooh, yes please."

"Not for me, sir. I must go and call my crew. Tell them we can start setting up for the shoot in the morning."

He goes up to the wall mounted phone and lifts the receiver. He turns to me, his finger poised to dial. "My dearest girl, there is something I still do not understand. Where is the Count I met in Vienna?"

"Ah," I say. "I was afraid you'd ask that. The thing is, I'm afraid it rather looks as if he has disappeared."

"A most unfortunate turn of events."

His shoulders sag as he turns despondently and starts to punch out the number. Meanwhile I'm looking at Alex and thinking, No actually, rather a fortunate turn of events, I'd say.

While Ravi's chatting on the phone Alex opens the wine. Nodding at an ancient green canvas sofa in the corner he says, "You might be more comfortable over there." But no sooner have I gone over and thrown myself onto it, when I realize its springs are digging into my quivering jelly of a backside. I'm about to jump up like a jack-in-the-box and try my luck on the divan opposite, when Alex sits down beside me.