The Exiles Return (16 page)

In any case, summer was waning, the days were getting shorter, and when autumn came she was to go to Vienna, a city of which her mother spoke sometimes with nostalgia and sometimes with distaste, which on some occasions she would describe with words of heartache, and on others with contempt, a city which she craved to see once more and at the same time vowed she would never set foot in again, so that in Resi’s imagination it seemed to be a place out of a story book, invented, not real, and she wondered what it was going to be like actually to live there.

The time for that was not yet ripe, though the end of long leave or holidays or vacation – or whatever in the language of offices, academies and laboratories the summer respite was called – was in sight, and plans that had been suggested, discussed and then postponed for one reason or another had to be carried out at once, if they were to be carried out at all. Helen proposed that before returning to work at the sawmill, and before Nina went back to her Institute in Vienna, they go up to the Bichl Alm. This was a high pasture on a mountain on the other side of the lake, just below the glacier one could see from the upper windows of the castle and just above the limit of the tree growth. It was exactly the right moment for the excursion: the weather was settled, the cows would still be up there but would soon be coming down, there would be no more tourists, and the Sennerinnen, the women who looked after the cows, would put them up in their wooden cabins, the Alm-Hutte, if they decided to stay the night and see the sunrise.

‘Resi ought to join you,’ the Countess said, ‘she’s been here all summer and hasn’t seen anything of the mountains except from a distance. She hasn’t seen any Enzian growing, or any Alpenrosen, and hasn’t heard any cowbells. That is something she mustn’t miss, or when she goes back to America no one will believe she has been in Austria at all.’

‘Won’t it be too strenuous for her?’ Helen did not relish the idea of having to look after a possibly straggling and footsore Resi: she and Nina were experienced climbers and did not want to be encumbered. But Lucas, who of course was present when the expedition was discussed, left her no time to oppose the suggestion.

‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll be all right. It’s not really a climb, it’s a walk up to the Bichl Alm and not a difficult one. I know every inch of the way. Oh Resi, you’ll see how wonderful the mountains are, how grand it is when you get up on the heights and have a whole panorama spread out beneath you – so different from being down here and, as the Frau Gräfin says, it’s an experience you mustn’t miss. If we take two days to do it, with a night’s rest in between, why, it’s child’s play.’

So Lucas was going too, that of course was inevitable. The thing seemed to be settled. Resi had not expressed an opinion one way or the other. Her aunt had said that it was the right thing for her to do, so perhaps it was. If Helen had stood by her opposition she could have said she preferred to stay at home. Those two older women, Helen and Nina, were rather formidable, she was sure
they
would not have wanted her company. However, if Lucas were going too, what was she to say? But Helen said it instead of her: ‘All right, Lucas, if you come we shall be four and you can help Resi on the difficult bits, so that solves the problem.’

‘What problem is that?’ asked Hanni, who at that moment came into the room followed by Georg Corvinus.

‘Nina and I are going up to the Bichl Alm tomorrow,’ Helen said, ‘And it seems that Resi and Lucas want to join us.’

‘I’d love to come,’ said Hanni. ‘Oh Georg, would you go up to the Alm with us, with me, I mean? Instead of going stalking for once. We’d see the sunrise on the snowfields, the pale dawn, the pink flush in the sky…’

Corvinus did not at first welcome the suggestion. He looked across at Lucas with distaste. But Hanni had slipped her arm through his and pressed it. Her eyes, as she looked up at him, seemed to hold a promise. ‘Pale dawn, pink flush,’ he repeated half mockingly. ‘How poetical you are, Hanni, irresistibly poetical. Very well then, if your sister and Princess Nina don’t object…’

‘Of course not,’ said Helen, ‘all the better. Another man to cope with Resi if she gets into difficulties.’

‘She won’t,’ said Lucas decisively, ‘I’ll see to that.’

Resi herself said nothing. She had not been asked. She didn’t know.

Fourteen

Crossing the lake on the little steamer that plied between the villages dotting its shores had been unadulterated pleasure, as had the walk along a path through meadows to the foot of the mountain where the climb began. There was a little wooden sign post attached to a tree which pointed the way to the Bichl Alm, and the tree also bore a red and white painted ring round its trunk, a sign Resi was to see many times as the track wound its way up the mountainside.

The ascent was gentle in the beginning and the little group kept fairly close together, Helen and Nina in the lead, followed by Hanni and Georg, while Resi brought up the rear with Lucas behind her, all walking in single file. Then the path became steeper and the pace of the walkers began to change and differ from each other. There was silence between the two older girls as they concentrated on the rhythm of their movements carrying them at a steady pace to the high pasture above. For a while there was some chatter and light laughter between Hanni and Georg, until they too fell silent with only a word or exclamation here and there.

Resi was silent from the start. She looked up at the soaring pine trees with the sunlight gleaming copper red on their majestic trunks and the ecstatic shafts of light between their branches – and her heart lifted with joy at the sight. But the path had become stony and slippery and she was forced to keep her eyes down most of the time so as not to stumble. Although she inhaled draughts of cool sweet resin-scented air, her breath was growing short and hard as the climb grew steeper. Worst of all were her feet. She had never worn heavy boots before, but had been told she must put them on today. There must have been a crease in one of her socks and a blister was forming.

Then suddenly there was a respite. They came out of the wood and emerged onto a meadow that hardly sloped at all, a heavenly meadow with soft, springy grass underfoot, starred with deep blue flowers, deeper blue even than the sky. Lucas came up to walk beside her now that the path was wider. She had almost forgotten he was behind her, and seeing how the distance between herself and the others was increasing she was thankful that he had not left her alone. She turned and smiled at him, one of her rare, radiant smiles, and he smiled in return, his heart suffused with happiness. He suggested that they pause for a few minutes to look around, although not for too long in order not to lose the impetus still needed for the remaining climb. Resi wanted to stop and pick some of the blue flowers that so enchanted her; from this he gently discouraged her, not saying, as indeed was the case, that the picking of Alpine flowers was forbidden, but only that it was useless as they would quickly wilt in her hot hands. Leave them where they belong, look and don’t
grab.
It was a word that stayed in her mind for a long time and she liked Lucas the better for having said it.

But now the climb began again, and steeper than before. They were out of the forest and its shade, walking not on pine needles but on short turf and pebbles, between boulders and outcrops of rock. The sun was hot on her neck, sweat began running down her face, and the boots felt heavier and heavier. That crease in her left sock, it cut like a knife at every step. She wanted to sit down, take off the boot and shift it, but that was impossible, for there was now no room to sit down between the high rock-face above and the steep slope covered with prickly bushes below. She felt sick and dizzy and a dreadful urge overcame her to let herself fall down, down into that abyss. But Lucas was there. He put one hand under her elbow, the other on her waist. His voice was close to her ear. ‘Don’t look down,’ he said, ‘keep your eyes on the path, just take one step after the other, we’re nearly there now, only ten minutes more.’ Ten minutes of agony to Resi, they seemed like an hour, and for the last steps he almost had her in his arms. Then just round a bend there was a dip in the ground and a wide grass basin spread out before them. There was the tinkle of cowbells and a group of wooden buildings, one with a verandah along its front, was only a hundred yards away. It was the Alm and the end of the excursion.

The others were already sitting on benches on either side of a wooden table. They had unwrapped their sausages and slices of bacon, and the Sennerin, the cow woman, had brought out a large jug of milk, loaves of dark brown bread and a huge dollop of butter. Resi sank gratefully onto the bench; she was almost too exhausted to eat. Hanni greeted her with laughter. ‘So you’ve got here at last – congratulations – well done’, praise which sounded more derisive than appreciative, while Helen said kindly, ‘Was it
very
hard work? Drink some milk and you’ll soon feel better.’ She and Nina seemed as cool and unruffled as if they had just been for a stroll instead of an arduous climb. But Lucas, who now sat beside her, looked round at them all angrily. ‘You needn’t laugh at her, she has done remarkably well for a first effort. You forget that she has had no training. When she has had some practice, she’ll take this in her stride as easily as the rest of us.’

Dear Lucas, yes indeed, dear Lucas, you
are
like Budd, comforting and understanding. I wish you
were
Budd, that it was Budd here next to me now, and by a strange substitution of the imagination a feeling of tenderness for distant, long-neglected Budd welled up in her, and it was him she saw in her mind’s eye as she laid her hand on Lucas’s arm and smiled at him. But how was Lucas to know?

After they had eaten, Helen and Nina said they would lie on the grass and sunbathe, while Georg and Hanni decided, for privacy, to walk round a shoulder of rock to get a view of the mountain range beyond. Resi wanted to take off her boots, but Hanni advised against it, she would not be able to put them on again if she did, and she would have to tackle the descent barefoot like the women who looked after the cows! She should simply rest her feet and their throbbing would subside. Resi reluctantly obeyed, hoping Hanni was right. She hobbled about looking for a place where she could lie down, but it was difficult to find one where she could stretch out in comfort because of the cow-pats swarming with flies, some of them quite vicious ones which stung. The cows themselves were wandering all over the place, they looked and sounded nice from a distance but were terrifying if they came too close.

At last she found a hollow behind a small hillock where the grass was longer and greener, there were no cow-pats and the cows were out of sight. A safe place. She lay down and half-closed her eyes. But it was not long before Lucas came and sat down beside her. She pretended to be asleep, however, she looked at him between her eyelids. He had taken off his shirt, his chest was red with sunburn and glistening with sweat. He was very close, she could hear him breathe, smell his body. She shut her eyes tightly, perhaps he would go away. Suddenly the sun was off her face, he had bent over her, she was in his shadow. She lifted her hands to push him off, but he had put his hands on her shoulders and his mouth was on her mouth. She felt his lips, hot and moist, and as she pressed her own lips together, denying him the response he expected, she felt his hard teeth bruising them. It lasted only a moment, for bewildered, hurt by this unsuccessful attempt at a kiss, he sat up again and looked down at her sheepishly, half-ashamed. And she looked up at him without a word while a sob rose in her throat and tears filled those beautiful blue eyes and ran silently down her face.

He was at a loss, he couldn’t understand her: only a short while ago she had smiled at him so kindly, and on that last steep bit of the climb when she had felt dizzy she had let him put his arms round her, he had felt the softness of her body, he had practically carried her. But now she was crying.

‘Darling,’ he said, ‘what’s the matter? Have you never been kissed before? Do you dislike me so much?’

She only shook her head. ‘No, no, no,’ was all she managed to say, although it was not clear which question she was answering, and she said nothing more. He lingered a little and then rose to go. Brushing the tears from her cheek, she rolled over and sank into a deep sleep.

It was late afternoon and the shadows were lengthening when she rejoined the others, who were debating whether to stay the night and sleep on straw pallets in the cabin or to make the descent before dark. Hanni and Georg decided to stay and watch the sunrise. Resi, with unwonted decisiveness, voted to go down and go home, and Nina, looking at the girl’s drawn face, agreed. This time they all stayed together, Lucas leading the way, Nina or Helen lending Resi a steadying hand until, in a much shorter time than it had taken for the climb, they reached the lake shore and caught the last boat across to Wald.

Part Two

Fifteen

Grasboeck had welcomed him back! It had seemed only a small, insignificant incident, those few minutes he had spent with him in the hallway of the Institute, but they sank into Adler’s consciousness and gave him unexpected solace. For days he wondered why it was that they meant so much to him. And as he pondered, an understanding grew and ripened in him that if he was, once more, to grow roots and become established in this country to which he wanted to belong, then he must feel his way down to the roots and sink them into the earth, the deep, dark subsoil of the mind where they would be safe and invulnerable. It would not be enough to renew connections with former acquaintances, or even to try to re-establish mutual affection with old friends. Social relationships were at best superficial, they could be pleasant if treated lightheartedly, they could easily be hurtful if too much was expected of them. And even with such old friends as Herman Helbling – it was good to see them from time to time, but their experiences had been too different. Nor in the realm of social intercourse would he find the security of belonging, and if he could not be sure of belonging, there would be no sense in his having returned; he must go to the roots, the roots.