The House by the Lake (16 page)

“Mmm hmm.” But Wil’s words ended with an upswing, and he sounded closer now, intimate almost.

Anna shut the fridge and slumped down in a kitchen chair. “You see, I met—”

“Ingrid? Yes.”

There was a silence.

“I couldn’t tell you who she was. She had to be the one to do that.” He sounded closer again.

Anna resorted to practicalities. This conversation was making her feel like a truck on a bumpy track, and it didn’t feel good. “Can you tell me anything at all?”

“Before she met you, she asked me why I had to pull up floorboards.” Wil paused for a moment. “I couldn’t lie. So I told her the truth.”

Anna moved back to her bed and sat on it, cross-legged. “Do you have any idea what her plans are?”

“I can tell you that she tends to buy up property, then leave it. Does nothing with it. Just lets it rot.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She’s bought old factories, estates, and whole villages. She shuts down the businesses, sits on the buildings, and sits on the land. She watches their value rise, spends nothing on the assets, and sells them at a profit after a certain period of time—depending on the investment.”

“But why would she do that with her own family’s past?”

“You tell me.” Wil sounded as if he were about to walk in the door.

Anna was drawn in too, and she hardly dared to notice that she liked it. “That’s not the only question I have.”

“Like I said, you should have been a lawyer.”

Anna felt the hint of a smile on her lips, but she plowed on. “I just can’t stop thinking about my grandfather and this . . . woman he loved in Paris. Who was she? Could she still be alive? What if she knows something? And I have more questions. Does Ingrid see any of my family? Because now that Max is gone, I really have no one left except my father, and I hardly ever see him. And shouldn’t I at least talk to Ingrid about the Schloss? See if I can convince her to change her position on this one, special place?”

“That’s quite a list of questions.” Wil sounded amused.

Anna only felt relief fan through her system. She had gotten it all out. Well, most of it, a smart voice inside her head seemed to jeer. She pushed that thought away. It was no use at all.

“What time is it there?”

“Two a.m.”

“Oh, God, Anna. I knew it was late. You should get some sleep. Is this happening every night? Is someone looking after you?”

“There’s more,” she went on. His questions were too raw. “Why did Max cut himself off from all his relatives? Why did he never ever talk about it? What went wrong? Because I’m wondering if once I’ve got to the bottom of that, then I could try to talk to Ingrid—make her understand his perspective. If she understood him—if I could figure out what happened—she might be willing to do something with Schloss Siegel and the village. Once I can convince people that Max is not the person to blame, maybe everyone can move on. It seems things are downright stuck—not to mention all wrong.”

There was another silence.

“Listen, Anna,” Wil said.

“Sure.” Anna stood up again. Perhaps she would make herself a warm drink. He hadn’t laughed, or told her she was mad. She walked into the kitchen.

When Wil spoke she stopped dead. “I didn’t want to interrupt you with all this while you were grieving, but I think you should talk to Ingrid, and soon.” He was quiet for a moment. “It would be better for you to come to Berlin to do that. Meet her in person. I don’t think a phone call would do it. I’m happy to help. If you don’t mind me saying this, I did talk to Ingrid about it myself. I asked her if she’d talk with you when you were ready. She said she would, but I had to convince her. I can be there if you want me to, or not. It’s up to you.”

Anna ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly, a smile spread over her face. That had been kind of Wil. He hadn’t had to do that. He was being a good friend to her.

So.

She opened the fridge again with her free hand. She shut the door again. Walked out into the living room.

“If you don’t come over and follow this up I think it’s going to bother you. You need to do this, and soon.” Wil’s voice softened. “It sounds as if Max was unsettled for the rest of his life, not following things through,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to call Ingrid, see when she’s free? Once we know, we can get you on a flight to Berlin. You can sit down with her, talk about it properly, and work out a way forward.”

Anna nodded. “Okay. And thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

Another silence. He would need to get back to work.

“Wil?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I’m wondering what made you—” Why had he changed his mind?

“Anna.” Wil sounded firm now. “I’m sorry. I’m late for a meeting. I have to go.” A pause. “What made me think about this is the fact that something doesn’t seem quite right—the beloved and loyal grandfather you describe doesn’t match up with the man who abandoned his entire family. If I can help set the record straight, then that would be good. I’ll talk to Ingrid. Then I’ll get back to you. Okay?”

Anna nodded. “Okay,” she said. “And thanks again.” There was something unfamiliar about relying on someone else—a lack of surety. Was she doing the right thing? She had been her own best friend for years now.

“Anna.” Wil’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“You should get some sleep now. We’ll work it out.”

Anna nodded. “Thank you.” Her instincts were, of course, to push Wil away. Just like she had always done with any man who had ever been kind to her. Why was that? And yet, here he was offering to help. He was asking nothing in return. She sighed.

He said goodbye and hung up the phone.

Anna wandered back to bed. With her thoughts all aswirl, she doubted she was going to get any sleep. But when she woke up five hours later, refreshed after a deep, dreamless sleep, she climbed out of bed with a mind that was clearer than it had been for weeks.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Three days later Anna woke up in the hotel that Wil had chosen for her in the old West Berlin. It was near his house, apparently. The boutique inn was infinitely more charming than the last place she had stayed in the city. Anna stretched, letting her eyes wander over the attractive room. A funky chandelier hung above the retro-looking brass bed, and the bathroom was all indulgence; a claw-footed bath sat in a sea of marble. In the corner of her room, Anna had draped the clothes that she had worn on her long flight the day before across a Louis XV chair covered in leopard spots.

Wil was going to meet her for breakfast at nine o’clock. Instinctively, she reached for her phone. There was a text from Wil that made her smile—he had thought hard about where to take a café expert for breakfast. In the end, he had decided that she had to try
Streuselshnecke
,
a local specialty that he hoped was new to her. He suggested a bakery that was famous for the treats.

It was hard to know what to think about meeting Ingrid again. What sort of magic had Wil worked in order to change her mind after their cold exchange last time?

The
B
ä
ckerie
that Wil had chosen was set between a bookshop and a fresh produce market. As soon as Anna walked in, she knew that this was her sort of place. It took her two seconds to sniff out the fact that the coffee smelled fabulous. Artisan breads were displayed in wicker baskets behind the counter, and sugar-topped squares of butter cake, fresh apple fritters, and quark cheesecake sat in sparkling glass cabinets. The baristas looked like they knew what they were doing, and the lines were similar to those in the Italian Café.

Wil had chosen a table in the middle of the room. He looked up when Anna walked in. When his eyes caught hers, they lit up with a genuine warmth that made her feel more relaxed than she had in a long while. Anna smiled back and headed over to the table.

“Good news and bad news,” Wil said, sitting back down after greeting her with a hug.

Anna looked at him and waited.

“I thought we might go out to the Schloss today. Have a look around. I’ve got us a picnic.” He looked almost shy.

Anna bit her lip, but smiled back at him.

“That was the good news,” he said. “The bad news, I’m afraid, is that Ingrid had to fly out to Singapore all of a sudden—but she’ll be back tonight. She wants to meet with us in the morning for coffee. I thought that might work better for you, anyway. You’ll be a little less jet-lagged by then.”

Wil ordered
Streuselshnecke
for them both, which turned out to be warm little buns covered in sugar. Once she sipped the excellent coffee, Anna forgot all about her jet lag. But that was not the thing that surprised her. As she chatted with Wil—asking him about his work, about what he had been doing—something happened, right then, right there, that she had not been expecting. Was it a thought? An instinct? A feeling? Afterward she was not exactly sure.

All she knew was that that was the moment she decided to enjoy herself. Not so long ago, she would have turned Wil down out of hand, closed herself off from the very idea of spending a full day alone with him. But now, she was actually having a good time with a kind man, and she was going to allow herself to do so.

So instead of telling Wil, no, she couldn’t possibly go for a picnic with him on this beautiful day, she told him, yes, she would love to.

Anna licked the last of the
Streuselshnecke
’s sugar off her fingers and let it melt on her tongue. When had she last had fun?

“A picnic,” Anna said, “sounds perfect.”

Wil’s eyes were warm. “Good. I don’t think being at Siegel will cure you of your desire to save it—in fact, it will probably make things worse—but I thought you might like to have a look around. We could explore the park.”

Anna met Wil’s gaze. There was something more relaxed about him today. His striped shirt was open at the collar, hanging loose over his chinos. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved that morning, but the effect made him even more attractive than the last time she had seen him. Those warm green eyes looked right back at her, and his boyish grin kicked in. He averted his gaze first, picked up the tab, and went to pay at the counter.

Anna had offered to contribute to the check, but he had refused. Now she sat back in her seat. The sun shone on the sidewalk outside, and people stopped in the street to chat with one another. She could hear peals of laughter. If only the same atmosphere could prevail in Siegel. Surely she could do something to save it.

She sensed Max urging her on.

The drive to the old Schloss was quick. Wil joked around and was good company. Anna found herself laughing for the first time since Max’s funeral. The landscape seemed familiar now—endearing, even. Every tree was resplendent with verdant leaves, and when they approached the Schloss gates and Anna rolled her window down, she heard birdcalls coming from the park.

She climbed out, telling Wil that she would open the gates on her own. He handed her the key, his eyes crinkling in the way that she had come to like.

Anna pushed open the gates and leaned in the window of the car as Wil drove through them.

“I’ll walk from here,” she said.

“Sure,” Wil said, waving at her.

After tugging the ornate gates shut, Anna stood for a moment, breathing in the crisp, clean country air. A breeze stirred the tall trees in the park, as though welcoming her, telling her that this was where she belonged. This was her home.

She heard Wil’s car engine stop. She was keen to explore the area around the lake.

Anna stretched her arms high above her head and rolled her neck after the car journey. She was going to savor every moment of this beautiful day because she knew that Max would want her to do so.

Paris, 1938

Isabelle sat down to read a letter from Max. She had waited to open the envelope until Marthe had decided to take her afternoon nap. Virginia was out and Isabelle did not want to be disturbed while she read. It was the first time she had heard anything in months.

But before she opened the thin pages to reveal Max’s solid handwriting, Isabelle sat back on the chair in her bedroom and waited for another few moments. This letter could tell her what she did not want to hear. She had tried so hard to move on from Max and failed. She had questioned what he felt for her after his last visit. He had confused her, but no matter how many young men she and Virginia met, her thoughts always turned back to Max.

He filled her head.

When Isabelle finally opened the letter, it was full of Hitler’s plans. Max wrote that the prohibition against Austria joining Germany that was laid down in the Treaty of Versailles was resented by many Germans. That the
anschluss
had been managed without warfare and that relief was felt by many Germans after weeks of tension and agitation over the outcome of the plan. He wrote that he had been able to listen to the broadcast newsreel of Hitler driving into Linz and Vienna.

But Isabelle had read in the newspapers that Hitler had demanded that Austria appoint Nazis to the cabinet, and that he had also demanded that the Nazi party’s rights be fully restored or he would invade Austria. The
London Times
had called it “the end of Austria.”

This had been followed by reports of Germany’s plans to protect all the Germans living outside its borders. It was becoming icily clear what that would mean.

Isabelle put Max’s letter down and went to stand at the window.

She wished she could look him in the eye and understand what he was really thinking. She wasn’t sure what to write back, and she hated not knowing when she would see him again. Had they promised to wait for each other—or not?

Then, one morning in late September, she had a completely different letter from Max. Occasionally—but only very occasionally—there was the hint of something personal in his words. She could glimpse a sign of what she thought of as the real Max. She suspected that this happened when he was tired, when he was a little emotional—maybe even confused.

But this time, his tone was new. He sounded urgent. Isabelle read his letter in the privacy of her bedroom.

Once Isabelle had finished reading, she bolted to find Virginia. Her friend was seated at the piano.

“We have to go to London,” she whispered in her friend’s ear.

“Really, darling?” Virginia turned from Claude Debussy.

“Don’t you see? You simply have to come with me.”

Virginia stood up from the piano stool, took Isabelle by the arm, walked her back into their shared bedroom, and closed the door.

“I take it Max wants to meet you in London?”

Isabelle did not meet her friend’s eye. “He has leave.”

“But last time, he was so . . . odd.” Virginia whispered the words. “He upset you.”

Isabelle sat down at her dressing table and started to play with her hair. “I need to know what’s really going on with him.”

“Are you sure you should just drop everything and go?” Virginia asked.

Was she sure? If her mind and her heart had anything to do with it, then, yes, she was certain. She knew now that politics could never come between her and her feelings for Max. And she needed to know for sure whether he felt the same way.

Isabelle stood up again and walked over to the window. A line had formed outside the theater across the road. People chatted underneath the trees, whose leaves were tinged with the first rusty stains of autumn. Isabelle did know one thing. She needed to feel his arms around her, know that he still cared about her as much as before, discuss their plans for the future.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m one hundred percent sure.” She turned back to look at her reflection in the mirror. “But I want you to come with me.”

Virginia stayed quiet. Isabelle could see her friend’s reflection behind her in the mirror.

Virginia was frowning. “I suppose the only way to fix it is to bring it to a head.”

“You know,” Isabelle said, “you are not simply the party girl that everyone thinks you are.”

Something rueful passed across her friend’s face. “Well,” she said, “there are two things I do know. One, you’re never going to settle for one of those vacuous young men here, and two, you’re in love with Max. And that, perhaps, is all that matters.”

Isabelle leaned forward and put her arms around her friend.

Who knew what the future held for any of them—for her, for Virginia, for Max, for Germany, or for Paris?—but one thing was certain. If there was any chance that she could be happy, even a tiny spit of an opportunity, then she was going to take it. Now.

Schloss Siegel, 2010

This time, Anna didn’t take in the decrepit state of the driveway, and she didn’t focus on the bullet holes in the walls. It felt right being here at the old Schloss. It felt almost as if Max were here too—as if his spirit had settled in this place. He had gone full circle—sending Anna back to where everything had begun for him. But why had his life gone so wrong?

Wil parked the car in front of the terrace overlooking the park. He climbed out of the car and stood looking at the old garden.

“Would you like to go for a walk first?” Wil asked.

“I’d love to,” Anna said. “Thank you for this. Exploring the park is just what I want to do right now.” She opened the car door and changed into the sturdier shoes that she had grabbed when she dashed back to her hotel to freshen up after breakfast.

There was an ornamental garden in front of the lake—it was sunken, in the French style. Old plinths were all that were left of the statues that must have once graced the garden paths. An ugly park bench was stuck in one of the natural alcoves that lined the path. Once, there would have been something beautiful there.

When they arrived at the lake, Anna became entranced with the building that sat on its far side. It was partially hidden from view by a bank of willow trees that lined the still water.

“It was the orangery,” Wil said. He had stayed mostly quiet, but Anna enjoyed the way he smiled when it was clear that she had fallen in love with another aspect of the Schloss. She was grateful to be here with a person who seemed to share her feelings toward her ancestral home.