Authors: Mary Burchell
“
Tell me—
”
he turned back to her with genuine interest
—“
was anything settled last night? About your future, I mean.
”
“
No. How could it be?
”
She looked surprised again.
“
There is nothing to settle. There are lots of human riddles to which there is no answer. Perhaps I am one of those.
”
“
I don
’
t think Mrs. Preston will be satisfied to leave it at that,
”
Bertram replied drily.
“
She may insist on claiming you as the daughter of her long lost son. What then?
”
“
I don
’
t know,
”
Anya said slowly.
“
You don
’
t know?
”
He looked at her curiously.
“
Do you mean you might refuse to accept that?
”
His tone was incredulous.
“
You might say
‘
no
’
to a home and security and comfort and heaven knows what else besides? Oh, no, my dear. No one ever really says
‘
no
’
to all of that, surely?
”
“
Suppose it meant unhappiness all round?
”
“
Why should it?
”
Anya did not reply immediately, and when she did, she spoke consideringly, as though she had not really marshalled her own ideas yet.
“
Celia does not like me,
”
she said without rancour.
“
In fact, she almost hates me. And I think that perhaps, if the positions were reversed, I should not like her either.
”
“
Come, that
’
s handsome of you.
”
He looked amused.
“
But once her mother has established you in the household as her granddaughter, Celia would accept the position.
”
“
I was thinking so much of that position,
”
Anya said. But, although he pressed her to tell him just what she
meant by that, she refused to be drawn further. And presently he changed the subject and said,
“
Tell me some more about your Polish theatre director. Did he ever say he would have liked to have you in the theatre?
”
“
Quite often.
”
Anya laughed.
“
Sometimes he even made me learn things and act them for him.
”
“
You don
’
t say?
”
Bertram pushed away his coffee cup and leaned his elbows on the table, studying her with interest.
“
So he saw it too, did he?
”
“
Saw what?
”
“
Never min
d.
Tell me what he made you learn.
”
“
Oh—some Shakespeare in a German version, and some Schiller. Monologues. Nearly always tragic
.
But then one day he said that I hadn
’
t really the stature for high tragedy—that was the way he used to talk—but that I had
—
”
She stopped, smiled and said,
“
Are you really interested in this?
”
“
Passionately.
”
She raised her eyebrows then, as though he amused her but must not be taken too seriously.
“
Well, then, he said I had a gift for simple pathos, something on the borderline between laughter and tears—
”
“
Ah!
”
ex
cl
aimed Bertram, on a note of profound satisfaction.
“
—And he used to teach me odd little sketches, taken from—
”
she frowned consideringly
—“
I don
’
t know what you call it—something where there is a mixture of everything in the programme.
”
“
High-class revue or vaudeville. Like
Chauve Souris
and
The Blue Bird
in the twenties,
”
he said almost impatiently.
“
Go on.
”
“
That
’
s all.
”
“
But what did he teach you? Can
’
t you do something for me?
”
“
They are all in Polish or Russian or German. And some of them are not much more than songs.
”
“
My God—you sing too?
”
“
Not really. Not a good big voice, as in opera. I realize
that because we had an opera singer in the camp once
—
”
“
Yes, I know. She died tragically or was never heard of again or something. Please don
’
t,
”
Bertram said firmly.
“
I
’
m terribly sorry about whatever happened to her, but I just can
’
t take any more unknown tragedies at the moment.
”
“
On the contrary, she married an American officer,
”
Anya assured him with a mischievous smile,
“
and went to the United States and made a fortune.
”
“
Come, that
’
s better! I
’
ll have another cup of coffee on the strength of that,
”
Bertram declared.
“
And you shall tell me what
your
voice is like.
”
“
It
’
s nothing.
”
She laughed.
“
It
’
s small and rather husky, and I speak nearly as much as I sing.
”
“
You do?
”
He stared at her, reflectively, as though he saw her on a stage, singing her husky songs and acting her little sketches.
“
Well, one of these days, you shall do something for me. Maybe
—
”
He broke off and shook himself
slightly, as though freed suddenly from some sort of spell. Then he muttered,
“
Let
’
s wait and see what plans Teresa Preston has.
”
Then David came in. And he too asked how Anya had slept. But not casually, as Bertram had done. More as though it really mattered.
When he found that she was fully rested and had had her breakfast, he paused only for a cup of coffee himself and then said,
“
My aunt it having breakfast in her own room. She usually does. But she would very much like to speak to you. Would you care to come now?
”
Anya got up at once. But Bertram grinned at her and said,
“
Don
’
t let my rather dominating Mama talk you into doing anything you don
’
t want to do. You stick to your guns, whatever they are.
”
“
I shouldn
’
t let her be talked into doing anything she didn
’
t want to do, in any case,
”
David observed drily. And then they went away together, and Anya was glad that, whatever the proposed discussion was going to cover, David would be there to help her.
Lady Ranmere was sitting by the table in her room, fully dressed, but with an air of enjoying the relaxation of breakfast in her room on holiday. She greeted Anya quite pleasantly, but with that slight air of reserve which told Anya, as plainly as if she had said it in words, that she wished the complication of her existence had never arisen.
Lady Ranmere was far too just a woman to blame Anya for a situation beyond her control. But she did not disguise from herself or anyone else that Anya
’
s coming had disturbed rather than increased the agreeable contentment of an excellent holiday.
“
Come and sit down, my dear.
”
She indicated a chair near her, and while Anya sat down, David went and leaned against the side of the window, sometimes looking down into the street, but at no time withdrawing his real attention from what was happening in the room.
“
I know it is much too early to force crises and decisions upon you, when you
’
re still confused by the tremendous change in your life,
”
Lady Ranmere said, regarding the still, young figure before her.
“
But I
’
m afraid events are rather out of our hands. As you have seen for yourself, my friend Mrs. Preston—
”
she paused, as though choosing her words carefully
—“
is both impulsive and emotional. Before she hurries you into something we might all—
”
she cleared her throat slightly
—“
regret, I thought you and I had better have a quiet and sensible talk.
”
She looked at Anya, as though inviting her to display all the calm and sense of which she was capable. So Anya said,
“
Yes, Lady Ranmere,
”
and tried to look helpful, though she did not really think it at all likely that she would be called on to do anything but endorse whatever course Lady Ranmere already considered to be the best one.
“
It seems there is at least a fifty per cent chance that you are Mrs. Preston
’
s grandchild.
”
Lady Ranmere made the statement as she might have pronounced on the weather prospects for the coming week.
“
Yes, Lady Ranmere,
”
said Anya again, but very softly this time, because, for some inexplicable reason, she wanted to cry at the complete realization that she could be anyone
’
s grandchild.
“
I must tell you at once that Mrs. Preston refuses to entertain any other possibility. And, unless you yourself choose otherwise, she will probably claim you as her son
’
s child, and you will find yourself part of a well-to-do household, with a secure background and an indulgent grandmother.
”
Lady Ranmere paused again, but Anya made no comment on this splendid picture.
“
On the other hand, Anya, no one else entirely shares Mrs. Preston
’
s confidence. And undoubtedly there will be renewed attempts to trace what really happened to Martin Preston.
”
Carefully she avoided any mention of names in co
n
nection with these attempts.
“
If at some future date it were finally established that you were
not
Mrs. Preston
’
s
grandchild, after all
—
”
She did not complete the sentence, and Anya shivered slightly, as though the cold wind of an alien, indifferent world already blew upon her again.
“
Aunt Mary, don
’
t frighten her with gloomy prophecies,
”
David broke in impatiently at this moment.
“
Tell
h
er right away what our proposition is.
”
“
Allow me to take my own time, David,
”
his aunt replied drily.
“
I want you to see, Anya, that, tempting though it may seem, the impulsive acceptance of an impulsive offer might not be the happiest answer to your problem.
”
“
Yes, I see that, Lady Ranmere,
”
whispered Anya rather desolately, and she wondered why it was necessary to emphasize how unsuited she really was to accept the infinitely acceptable.
“
On the other hand—
”
said Lady Ranmere, who seemed rather fond of this expression which so admirably saved one from inclining too much to one view or another
—“
on the other hand, we are all returning to England in less
than a week
’
s time
—
”
Anya
’
s heart was suddenly leaden. But though she gave a startled glance at Lady Ranmere, she somehow managed not to look dismayedly in David
’
s direction.
“
Obviously we cannot leave you here. Ideally, you should not decide at this early stage to go to live with Mrs. Preston. In the circumstances, David and I are going to suggest that you come back to England with us, as our guest. He will see the British Consul and find out what can be done about a visitor
’
s visa for you. Now what have you to say to this compromise suggestion?
”
“
But—Lady Ranmere
—“
Anya knew there were tears
in her eyes, and she could only hope they did something to disguise the light of rapture which she felt must be shining there.
“
What
can
I say to such generosity? I who have nothing—I am nothing
—
”
She stopped, and this time she did let herself turn to David, with a timid little gesture of appeal and gratitude.
He came over to her immediately and, smiling, took one of her hands.
“
That isn
’
t quite an accurate description of you now, Anya.
”
“
You
may
have a full claim to a place in Mrs. Preston
’
s household,
”
Lady Ranmere added, with an air of looking facts full in the face.
“
And I don
’
t doubt you would be more petted and indulged there than you will be in my house. But I think you would be wise not to take that place until fuller enquiries have been made.
”
“
Yes—yes—I am sure you are right. I can
’
t thank you
enough—I don
’
t know what to say
—
”
She stammered out her incoherent gratitude, trying hard to make it sound as though she thought only of the kindness and the secure future. No one—least of all the two people to whom she was speaking—must guess for one moment the real source of her frantic joy.
She was to go with David, to his own country, his own home. (To her Lady Ranmere was merely incidental, which would rather have surprised that lady.) No fear, no hardship, no insecurity would have mattered if David were to be there. That she was to have him
and
security seemed almost more than her heart could bear.
But she had to hide her joy somehow; to appear no more than quietly and deeply grateful for the kindness of the offer. Only to herself could she say,
“
It was David
’
s idea! I know it was his idea, although Lady Ranmere explained it and put it forward as her own suggestion. He
wanted
me in his own home. Oh, please, God, let that be the truth! I
’v
e had so little in my life. I
’
m not complaining, but I haven
’
t had very much, have I? Please let me have David near me. I don
’
t mind being cold or hungry or homeless. Only let me have David.
”
But aloud she said, almost formally, though sweetly,
“
I do thank you both with all my heart. I will try to do everything you want and not to be a nuisance.
”
“
You
’
re a good child,
”
said Lady Ranmere, which was quite a handsome accolade from her.
But it was David who gently ruffled her bright hair and said,
“
You couldn
’
t be a nuisance. You don
’
t know how to. Well, I
’
m glad that
’
s settled.
”
It was not so easy when it came to explaining to Mrs. Preston, however. After a restless and wakeful night, she had come to the firm determination to
cl
aim the girl she was certain was her grandchild. She was appalled when opposition came from Anya herself, of all people.
“
But, darling, I want you to come to
me
,”
she cried, when it was explained that Lady Ranmere had offered Anya a home for the time being.
“
Why should you go to someone else? You
belong
to me
.”
“
Dear Mrs. Preston, it is not so simple as that.
”
Anya smiled pleadingly at her.
“
You are kind enough to say I belong to you. But I don
’
t know. We don
’
t any of us know.
”
“
I
know!
”
insisted Teresa Preston obstinately.
“
Mary—
”
she turned indignantly to Lady Ranmere, who was standing by
—“
I don
’
t think this was kindly done of you. You had no right to interfere between me and Martin
’
s child.
”
“
My dear Teresa, I tried to do what was best for you both, in very difficult
cir
cumstances,
”
Lady Ranmere replied, unmoved.
“
Anya is behaving very well in not exploiting the situation. But it would be kinder to her if you let her have some breathing space while enquiries are being made.
”
“
But enquiries
have
been made. They were made years ago,
”
retorted Mrs. Preston impatiently.
“
What more do you suppose could be done?
”
‘
They can be made from another angle now,
”
Lady Ranmere pointed out.
“
When you tried to trace him before, you assumed he was in Bulgaria. Whatever Anya
’
s photograph does not prove, at least it proves that Martin was in Russia.
”
“
Oh, Mary, you know it
’
s a forlorn hope—trying to get information out of any of the countries beyond the Iron Curtain
,”
cried Mrs. Preston.
“
Suppose we still discover nothing—which is what is almost certain to happen
—
what then?
”
“
Then, my dear, you will have to make a considered decision—in conjunction with Celia, for it is her home too
—
as to what you want to do.
”
“
I know what I want to do now.
”
Mrs. Preston spoke with the slight sulkiness of an obstinate child.
“
And as for Celia—
”
She stopped, for even such emotion as she had experienced in the last twenty-four hours could not break the affectionate submission of a lifetime.
“
Celia
’
s problem too may well be settled, if you are prepared to wait a few months,
”
Lady
Ranm
ere
pointed out thoughtfully.
“
I don
’
t suppose either of us would be surprised if Celia were to become engaged in the near future, do you?
”
“
Well, no. I suppose you are right.
”
Relief and pleasure flooded into Mrs. Preston
’
s face at this reflection. While to Anya it seemed that hope and joy drained away from her heart
.
It was not really for her to say anything at this point, and yet she had to say it—in a tone that she strove to make no more than casually interested.
“
Is Celia more or less engaged to someone, then?
”
she asked, not looking at Lady Ranmere who, she knew, would consider the question a
l
ittle inquisitive and out-of-place.