Csardas (62 page)

She hesitated. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“No. But it’s quite all right. I’ll find a hotel and—”

“You may as well stay here,” she interrupted, staring down at her plate and mashing the cake into a mess with her fork. “I didn’t want anyone from home to know—oh, but why does it matter? I’m never going back and I don’t care what they think of me any more. I’m happy here, so what does it matter if you all know?”

“Know what, Kati?”

She smiled at him again. “You’ll see in a moment,” she said quietly. “I wanted to write and tell Malie. I knew she would understand but I kept waiting, and the longer I waited the harder it grew. It is so hard to shake off all the old conventions, all the old restrictions and disapprovals.”

He heard feet on the stairs and wondered for a moment if Kati, like himself, was living with someone. A key turned in the lock and a rosy-cheeked Austrian girl walked in, carrying one of the most beautiful small boys he had ever seen.

“This is Ingrid,” said Kati, reaching out her arms to the small boy. “And this is Nicholas, my son.”

He stared, not knowing what to say, slightly shocked but more concerned that Kati should not see his surprise.

“He’s two years old.”

“I see.” He searched lamely for some commonplace remark. “He’s a very handsome child.”

Kati stared hard at the little boy’s face. “Yes, he is,” she agreed. “I look at him carefully every day to see if there is anything of me in him, hoping that just because I am his mother I am not biased about his beauty. But no, I am satisfied that he is nothing like me at all, not to look at. He is quite beautiful, is he not? And he is mine, Leo. My son.”

“Where—I mean, who—you are still married to Felix, of course. But—”

Kati flushed, just a little. “His father?” She paused, then shrugged. “What does it matter who his father is? It is enough that for a while I was very happy. When I knew I was to have a child I was even happier.”

“But why is he not with you? Don’t you want to marry again? You could get a divorce, I am sure. Felix would divorce you.”

“No, you know little of Felix or his mother if you think that. They will continue to pretend. They will pretend their lives away in that horrible mansion up in the hills. They will never admit... what they ought to admit. But it means little to me. If it helps them to believe that Felix still has a wife in Austria I don’t care. I have finished with them and shall never go back. They can believe what they like!”

“But what of him, the child’s father?”

She made a funny little gesture with her hands. “There was never any pretence between us that we should marry. He was not a man to tie himself to one woman. When he returns to Vienna we meet and are happy together like old friends. But we have never considered that we have an obligation to each other.” She shuddered. “Leo, you are young and will not understand this, but I never want to be tied to a man again. I never want to remarry or feel that my life is surrendered to someone else. Now I am myself, and I shall remain like that for the rest of my days. I am happy and I shall never entrust my happiness to another man. I have my child, and my life here in Vienna, and that is all I want.”

He felt a warm gush of affection for her, this strange cousin whom he had never really thought about before. He had a fellow feeling for her, both renegades, rebels against the family. He decided that if an opportunity occurred he would confide in her about his own life in Berlin.

“You can stay here tonight,” Kati said. “You can share Nicky’s room with him. You’ll like that won’t you, Nicky?” The small boy chortled and beamed. It was incredible that Kati could have such a beautiful child. He had large, warm brown eyes and a wide engaging smile. His cheeks were round and red, and dark curls covered his head.

“May I tell Malie?”

Kati considered. “Why not? I suppose it doesn’t matter who knows. I’m never coming back so it doesn’t matter.”

Later that evening, in a small restaurant in Wiedner Gürtel, he told her all about Hanna and that he was a Communist. He told her about having his ribs broken in the street fighting. He explained his fears about the family not accepting Hanna and the fact that he must try and find a job fairly soon so that they could marry. He told her about seeing the peasant beaten on the Kaldy estate and about conditions in Berlin and of his worries and concern for the world they lived in. Kati—poor Cousin Kati—listened and answered and asked questions the way he had longed for someone to do all these years.

When he left her the next morning, it was with regret. He was twenty-two, she was thirty-six, and they had always known each other. But now, for the first time in his life, he felt he had found a friend who was intelligent and sympathetic, a friend whom he could talk to.

He told his sisters but no one else. Eva had come up from the country in order to welcome Hanna and he waited until they were together, he and Malie and Eva, before telling them about Kati. They were stunned.

“I can’t believe it! Not poor old Kati!”

“It’s true,” he said, slightly nettled. “And she is not poor old Kati any more. She’s a bright, interesting woman and Nicky is a bright and very handsome boy. You would be surprised.”

“I certainly would,” chortled Eva. “Where on earth did Kati get a handsome child from?”

“Oh, don’t be so vulgar, Eva,” cried Amalia, distressed. “Poor Kati. I should have found a way of going to see her before. If only I could have helped her!”

“She doesn’t need help.” He was beginning to grow angry. Somehow Kati’s life style was his life style and his sisters’ attitude towards Kati was a criticism of his own conduct. He resented not only Eva’s ribald jeering but Malie’s pity. “You don’t really understand, either of you. I’ve never seen her so happy. She has a large and pleasant apartment with a servant. She has plenty of interesting friends and work she likes doing. She adores her child and says nothing would ever make her marry again or give up her freedom. She is completely and utterly happy!”

“How can she be?” faltered Malie. “How can she be happy with a child and no husband to look after her?”

“She never had a husband to look after her,” Leo snapped. “And now she doesn’t want one. She is free to do as she pleases. She paints when she likes; she goes to parties or concerts when she wants to. She has friends of both sexes whom she can see whenever she likes. She is fulfilled and happy.”

They were both silent. Malie looked doubtful and Eva resentful. “Well, she has no right to be happy,” she said angrily. “It’s disgraceful, what she’s done. What about the family? Our name and reputation? What would poor Aunt Gizi have thought? And Mama and Papa, just think how distressed they will be when they know!”

“They won’t know,” said Malie quickly. “We’re not going to tell anyone else, do you understand, Eva?”

Eva didn’t answer.

“Eva! You are not to mention this to anyone! Papa has enough worries at the moment and this would be just another burden for him. And have you thought what might happen if Madame Kaldy learned of her daughter-in-law’s escapade? Don’t forget that Kati is our cousin. Madame Kaldy might well decide she wanted nothing more to do with such a family. And then where would you and your son be?”

Eva, since the birth of her son, had been accepted into the good graces of Madame Kaldy. There were battles, many battles, which Eva usually won, but nonetheless between the two women a truce had been declared. Eva was the mother of the Kaldy heir and they were both aware that they needed one another.

“I suppose you’re right,” Eva said slowly. “It wouldn’t be very kind to tell the old lady. But I still think it’s quite disgraceful of Kati. How could she behave in such an immoral way! Having a child with just anyone!”

Malie was staring at Eva, a curious expression on her face, and Eva slowly began to flush.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said, and then continued hurriedly. “Well, I won’t tell anyone. As you say, Malie, it would be worrying people unnecessarily.” A sharp tone entered her voice. “What a shock it would be for Felix, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. But he is not going to know.”

Leo was suddenly bored by his two sisters. He didn’t understand the undercurrents in their conversation, but he was aware of smallness, of petit-bourgeois bickering, and he felt a swift yearning to go back to Vienna, to settle there with Hanna in an atmosphere of freedom and friendship. How nice it would be to introduce Hanna to Cousin Kati and not have to worry about whether the family approved of her or not.

Malie came with him to the station and brought the boys, Karoly and Jacob, in order to ease what might be an awkward moment. They stood beside the track, small replicas of their dark, heavy-eyed father, clothed in clean white shirts and newly pressed grey trousers. Neither of Malie’s boys resembled her at all. They were quiet, studious children, the delight of their father and of their grandfather, who found them obedient and willing to listen. Leo, watching their solemn faces, wished that little Terez was present instead. She was merry, noisy and naughty, and would have provided much more diversion for this awkward occasion.

“Here comes the train, boys,” said Malie brightly. “Uncle Leo’s friend will be here any moment.”

“What are we to call her?” asked Jacob politely. Malie stared helplessly at her son. “Are we to call her Aunt Hanna?”

“No,” Leo replied quickly. “That won’t be necessary, boys. You can just call her Hanna.”

“Very well. Uncle Leo.”

He was incredibly nervous, and he hated himself for being so nervous. Two weeks ago he had held Hanna in his arms, slept with her, eaten with her, quarrelled with her, and now he felt as though he were meeting a stranger. He should have gone to meet her in Budapest. Just a few hours together on the train might have helped.

When the train stopped he couldn’t see her and for one wild second he thought she hadn’t come, and then at the far end of the track her neat little body appeared on the ground. She looked small and afraid, and a sudden wave of love for her drove everything else out of his mind. “There she is!” he cried and hurried to meet her.

She had a new suitcase and she looked fresh and clean, even though she had been travelling for over a day. Her tight, controlled face looked about her and then the large grey eyes flooded with relief when she saw him. “Darling Leo!”

They didn’t even kiss, they were both so tense. He just squeezed her hand and said, “It’s fine, Hanna. My sister has come to meet you and I know it’s going to be all right.”

“Have you told them about me?”

“I’ve told them you are my girl friend and that I want them to meet you.”

At Malie’s suggestion he hadn’t mentioned the shipyard worker lurking in the background. When asked what Hanna’s father did, he said he didn’t know. Let them meet her first; then all the other things would come right.

“That’s my sister. You’ll like her. She’s the good one of the family.” He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her up the track. Malie—oh, kind, blessed, wonderful Malie!—smiled and came forward and put her arms round the girl.

“Dear Hanna!” she said warmly. “I can’t tell you how much I have waited for this moment. Leo talks of nothing but his Hanna, and now you are here and I can see why.”

Hanna tried to smile back. It was a tight little smile and a muscle at the corner of her mouth twitched.

“These are my boys, Karoly and Jacob.”

The boys stared sombrely at her, then politely held up hands for her to shake. Hanna tried to unbend. “Twins?” she asked.

“No, though I suppose you could think that. Karoly is nine, Jacob eight,”

“Oh.”

“You will be staying in my apartment, Hanna, but you will not be far away from Leo. He and his parents and his brother live in the apartment below. But you already know Jozsef, don’t you? Surely you have met in Berlin?”

“Just once.”

They climbed into a cab and made desultory conversation all the way home. He was aware, as he had never been before, of the language difference between Hanna and himself. In Berlin they had spoken German together without his even being aware of it. But here he was conscious of having to speak in German, and he was also conscious of Malie and the boys trying to remember they mustn’t lapse into Hungarian.

It was all right when they arrived home. Eva and little Terez made a great deal of noise and there was bustle and confusion that masked any strain. Mama was having one of her good days, one of her gracious Bogozy days, and if there was any coolness in Papa’s manner it was not too noticeable. Hanna was whisked upstairs into Malie’s apartment to “lie down and rest.” He longed to ask them all if they liked her but was terrified in case they said no. So he followed Eva into the drawing-room and said tentatively, “Do you think it will be all right, Eva?”

“Will what be all right?”

“Well, her staying here for the summer. Do you think she will fit in with everyone?”

Eva shrugged. “I suppose so. I don’t see how anyone could be
bothered
by her. If she continues to be like she is today we won’t even know she’s here.”

“Oh, God!” he said, annoyed. “You’re always so spiteful, Eva.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. You never used to be like this. You’re always cruel and sarcastic nowadays.”

Eva stared at him, open-mouthed. “Well, really!” she exclaimed. “I’ve trailed all the way down from the country, just to show that your German girl friend is welcome here, and that’s all you can say, that I’m spiteful and sarcastic!”

They began to bicker, childishly and noisily, degenerating into all kinds of complaints and arguments that had nothing to do with the present crisis, and their quarrelling didn’t stop until Malie came into the room.

“Why are you shouting?” she demanded. “Have you forgotten the windows are open? I can hear every word upstairs!”

Eva looked angry and flounced towards the door. “I only hope
she
can hear every word. Then she’ll know exactly what she’s getting if she marries our delightful little brother.” She slammed the door and they heard the heels of her expensive shoes tapping along the passage. Leo stared glumly at the carpet.