The Post Office Girl (13 page)

Anthony lets the newspaper fall. He was listening to all of it. He looks after her angrily. “What did I tell you! Her mother desperately ill, she told us herself, and she doesn’t even care, just goes about playing the flapper all day long. Now you see I was right.” “Really unbelievable,” Christine’s aunt says with a sigh, “she knows how it is with Mary and she hasn’t troubled
her head about it once in eight days. And at the beginning she was so touchingly worried about her mother, told me with tears in her eyes how terrible it was to leave her there by herself. Incredible how she’s changed.”

Christine is back, her steps halting now, confused and ashamed. She looks fragile in the wide armchair. She feels like cringing, as though to avoid a well-deserved blow. In fact the desk clerk had three unclaimed letters and two cards. Fuchsthaler has been sending complete news every day with touching care, and she—it falls like a stone on her conscience—she scrawled just a single quick card in pencil from Celerina. Not once has she looked at her honest and
dependable
friend’s beautifully crosshatched, tenderly drawn map, or even taken his little gift out of the suitcase. Wanting to forget her former, other, Hoflehner self, she’s wound up forgetting everything she left behind, her mother, her sister, her friend. “Well,” her aunt says, seeing the unopened letters trembling in Christine’s hand, “aren’t you going to read them?” “Yes,” Christine murmurs. Obediently she tears open the envelopes and skims through Fuchsthaler’s clear, clean lines without looking at the dates. “Today things are somewhat better, thank God,” says one. The other reads, “Since I gave you my word of honor,
verehrte Fräulein,
that I would frankly inform you as to the condition of your
sehr verehrte Frau
mother, I must unfortunately report that yesterday we were not unconcerned. The commotion over your departure gave rise to a state of excitement that is not without risk …” She turns the pages quickly. “The injection has had a certain calming effect, and we are again hoping for the best, though the danger of a recurrence has not been entirely eliminated.” “Well,” Christine’s aunt asks, noticing her agitation, “how’s your mother?” “Fine, fine,” says Christine out of sheer embarrassment, “I mean, Mother has been having troubles again, but they’ve passed, and she sends her best, and best regards too from my sister.” She doesn’t
believe what she’s saying. Why hasn’t Mother written, even a line, she thinks nervously. I wonder if I shouldn’t send a wire or try to phone the post office, my substitute must certainly know what’s going on. But I’ve got to write immediately, it’s really disgraceful that I haven’t. She doesn’t dare look up for fear of finding her aunt’s eyes watching her. “Yes, it’ll be good if you write them a regular letter,” says her aunt, as if she’d guessed her thoughts. “And send the warmest regards from the two of us. By the way, we’re going straight up to our room, not to the lounge this time. All the late nights are taxing Anthony too much. Yesterday he couldn’t get to sleep, and after all he’s here for a rest too.” Christine senses the underlying reproach and feels cold shock tightening about her heart. She approaches the old man shamefacedly. “Please, Uncle, don’t be angry with me. I had no idea I was tiring you out.” Still irked but touched by her humility, he gives a growl of concession. “Oh, well, we old folks always sleep badly. I enjoy being in the thick of things once in a while, but not every day. And anyway you don’t need us now, you’ve got plenty of company.”

“No, absolutely not, I’m going with you.” Carefully she helps the old man into the elevator and is so warm and
solicitous
that her aunt’s displeasure gradually softens. “You’ve got to understand, Christl, nobody wants to stop you from having fun,” she says as they glide up the two stories, “but it can only do you good to get a decent night’s sleep. Otherwise you’ll get overtired and that’s not why you’re on vacation. It can’t hurt to take a break. Just stay quietly in your room this time and write some letters. Frankly, it doesn’t look right for you to be running around by yourself with those people all the time, and I’m not too wild about most of them anyway. I’d rather see you with General Elkins than with that young whatever he is. Believe me, you’ll be better off staying in your room tonight.”

“I will, I promise, Aunt,” says Christine humbly. “I know you’re right. It was just that … I don’t know … these days have
been making my head spin, it might also be the air and all. But I’m happy to have a chance to think things over calmly for once and write some letters. I’m going to my room now, you can count on it. Good night!”

As she unlocks the door to her room, Christine thinks: She’s right, and she only has my best interests at heart. I really shouldn’t have let myself get carried away like that, what’s the point of rushing about, there’s still time, eight days, nine days, and what could happen to me if I wire for extra sick days, I’ve never taken a vacation and never missed a day in all my years of work. They’ll believe me at the head office, and the substitute will be only too pleased. It’s so quiet in this beautiful room, you can’t hear a sound from downstairs, you can collect your thoughts for once, mull it all over. And I have to read the books Lord Elkins lent me. No, first the letters, that’s why I’m up here, to write my letters. It’s disgraceful, eight days without a word to my mother or my sister or that nice Fuchsthaler. I ought to send a card to the secretary too, it’s only right, and I promised my sister’s children I’d send them one. And I made another promise, what was it—God, I’m completely confused, what promises have I been making to whom—right, I told the engineer I’d go with him on that outing tomorrow morning. No, I can’t be alone with him, not with him, and also—
tomorrow
I have to be with my aunt and uncle, no, I’m not going to be alone with him again…But in that case I should really call it off, I should take a quick run down so he won’t be kept waiting for nothing tomorrow…No, I promised my aunt I’d stay here…Anyway I can call down to the desk clerk and he’ll tell him…The telephone, that’s the best way. No, forget that…How would it look if they wind up thinking I’m sick or confined to quarters here and then they all make fun of me. Better to send a note, ha, I’d rather do that, I’ll include the
other letters so the desk clerk can mail them tomorrow
morning
… Where on earth is the letter paper?…Can you believe it, the folder is empty, how can that happen in a posh hotel like this…Just cleaned out…Well, I can ring, the maid will bring some right up…But can you still ring after nine? Who knows, they might all be asleep already, and maybe it would even look funny to ring at night just for a few sheets of paper…Better to run down myself and get some from the library…If only I don’t run into Edwin on the way…My aunt’s right, I shouldn’t let him get so close…I wonder if he goes as far with other women as he did in the car this afternoon…All down my knee, I don’t know how I could have permitted it…I should have moved away and refused to put up with it…I’ve only known him for a few days. But I couldn’t move a muscle… Terrible how you suddenly go all weak, lose all your willpower, when a man touches you like that…I never could have imagined how your strength just gives out…Are other women like that, I wonder…They never say so, they talk so brazenly, tell you such wild stories…I should have done something, otherwise he’ll wind up thinking I’ll let anyone touch me that way…Or think I want them to…Ghastly what that was like—I shivered down to my toes…If he did that to a really young girl, I bet she’d lose her head completely—and when he suddenly squeezed my arm as we rounded the curves, terrible the way he…He has such slender fingers, I’ve never seen nails like that on a man, as immaculate as a woman’s, yet it’s like a vise when he grabs you…I wonder if he really does that with everyone…Probably so…I’ll have to watch for that the next time I see him dancing…It’s awful that I’m so ignorant, everybody else my age knows the ropes—they’d be able to get some respect…Wait, what was Carla saying, that the doors here open and close all night long…I’d better bolt mine right now…If only they were honest with you, didn’t beat around the bush like that, if only I knew what the others do, whether they get so
upset and mixed up too…Nothing like this ever happened to me! No, there was that time two years ago, when that elegant gentleman spoke to me on the Währinger Strasse, he looked much the same, standing so straight and tall… There would have been no harm in it in the end, I could have had dinner with him as he proposed…That’s how people get to know each other…But I was worried I’d be late getting home…I’ve had that silly worry all my life and I’ve shown consideration for everyone, everyone…And time goes by and you start to get crow’s feet…The rest of them were smarter, they understood things better…Really, would any other girl be sitting here alone in this room, with the lights blazing downstairs and all the fun going on…Just because my uncle is tired…Nobody else would be on the sidelines this early… What time is it in fact…Just nine o’clock, only nine…I certainly won’t be able to sleep, forget it…I feel so horribly hot suddenly…Yes, open the window…That’s nice, the cold on my bare shoulders…I should take care I don’t get a chill… Bah, always this stupid worrying, always so cautious and careful…Where has it gotten me…The air feels wonderful through this thin dress, it’s like having nothing on…Why did I put it on, anyway, who am I wearing it for, this beautiful dress…Nobody can see me in it if I’m sitting around in this room…Maybe I should take a quick run downstairs?…I do have to get some letter paper, or I could even write the letters down there in the library…It couldn’t do any harm…Brr, it’s gotten cold, I’d better close the window, it’s freezing in here now…And I’m going to be sitting in that empty armchair?…Nonsense, I’ll run downstairs and warm up fast down there…But what if Elkins sees me or somebody else does and tomorrow my aunt finds out? Bah…I’ll just say I went down to give the letters to the desk clerk…There’s nothing she can say to that…I won’t stay down there, I’ll just write the letters, both of them, then come straight back up…Where’s my coat? No, no coat, I’m coming right back, just the flowers…
But they came from Elkins…Oh, never mind, they look nice…Maybe I should look in on my aunt just to be on the safe side, to be sure she’s asleep…Nonsense, no need for that…I’m not a schoolgirl anymore…Always this stupid worrying! I don’t need permission to run down for three minutes. So…

She hurries downstairs uneasily, as though trying to outrace her own hesitation.

She succeeds in slipping unnoticed into the library, though the lounge is seething with dancers. She finishes the first letter and the second is nearly done. Then she feels a hand on her shoulder. “Got you! What a trick to hide in here. For the last hour I’ve been looking in every nook and cranny for Fräulein von Boolen, everyone I ask just laughs, and here she is
hunkered
down like a rabbit in the crosshairs. But now let’s get moving!” The tall thin man is standing behind her. Again she feels his ominous grip as a fluttering in her nerves. She smiles weakly, frightened by the ambush and yet pleased that just half an hour was enough for him to miss her so much. But she still has the strength to defend herself. “I can’t go dancing tonight, I mustn’t. I still have letters to write. They have to be on the early train. And then I promised my aunt I’d stay upstairs this evening. No, it’s out of the question, I can’t. She’d be angry if she knew I came down again.”

Confidences are always risky: a secret entrusted to a stranger makes him less of one. You’ve given away something of yourself, given him the advantage. And now in fact those hard covetous eyes become intimate. “Aha, you’re on the lam. Absent without leave. No, don’t worry, I’m not going to tell, not me … But since I’ve been cooling my heels for an hour, I won’t let you go so easily now, no, not a chance. In for a penny, in for a pound! Since you’ve come down without permission, you won’t need permission to stay with us.”

“What are you thinking! Impossible. My aunt might come down. No, it’s out of the question!”

“Well, now, we’ll want to make a factual determination right away, make sure Auntie is asleep. Do you know which windows are hers?” “But why?” “Very simple. If the windows are dark, then your aunt’s asleep. And once you’ve undressed and gone to bed you don’t get dressed again just to see if the little one’s being good. My God, the times we used to sneak out at
technical
school. We’d oil up the keys to keep them from rattling, take our shoes off, and slip out through the entrance hall. An evening like that was seven times as much fun as an official holiday. So! Synchronize watches!” Christine has to smile; the way everything is settled here so easily and casually, the way all difficulties are straightened out! A girlish sense of fun gives her an itch to make a monkey out of her excessively strict guardian. But she can’t give in too quickly. “Nothing doing, I can’t go out in the cold like this! I haven’t got my coat.”

“We’ll find you something. Just a second,” and he’s dashing off for his ulster, hanging soft and woolly in the wardrobe. “It’ll do, put it on!”

“But I ought to …” she thinks, then thinks no more about what she ought to do, because one arm is already in the soft coat. Resistance would be childish now. She laughs with a
comfortable
mischievous feeling as she wraps herself in the strange masculine garment. “Not through the main door,” he says with a smile at her mantled back, “through the side door here, and we’ll go for a stroll underneath your aunt’s window.” “Really, just for a second,” she says, and the minute they’re in the dark she feels his arm in hers as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “So where are the windows?” “Second floor left, the corner room there with the balcony.” “Dark, pitch-black, hurrah! Not a glimmer. They’re having a good long snooze. Right, and now I’m in charge. For starters, back to the lounge!” “No, not on your life! If Lord Elkins or somebody else sees me there, he’ll tell them first thing tomorrow, and they’re very angry with me as it is … No, I’m going up now.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else, to the bar on the way to St. Moritz. We can drive there in ten minutes. Nobody knows you there, so there’ll be nobody to tattle.”