They Were Counted (67 page)

As he walked he thought also of his broken promise to Klara. Well, Klara was just worried about him. She was as timid and fearful as women were so apt to be; that was the only reason she had exacted that tiresome little promise. There was nothing to fear – women never understood these things. He would explain that anyone who really knew how to play had nothing to fear. And that he, Laszlo, did know, was proved by what had
happened
that night.

He would explain, and Klara would see reason. Of course she would see reason, even if she worried a little; and it didn’t matter much if a girl worried a little over one …

 

Klara had spent the four days since the King’s Cup Race in a frame of mind quite different from Laszlo’s. She, too, was deeply upset by their separation and, as they had seen each other daily for several months, she missed his presence beside her. However, since her childhood she had become accustomed to having her life ruled by other people and accepted that it was they who decided what she did each day, who escorted her when she went out, watched over her and protected her. It was obvious to Klara that her stepmother was determined to keep her away from any chance of meeting Laszlo, and so the excursions and picnics, the visits to country houses, and indeed all those plans that were kept secret from her until the last minute so that she could not send word to Laszlo, merely made her smile in pity. All this trouble that Mama Agnes took, all this cunning lavished on secret
telephone
calls and private little messages. It was all so futile! What did it matter if she didn’t see Laszlo for a few days or even a few weeks? After all he had given up gambling and one day, be it sooner or later, she would stand before her father and confront him with the fact. And then, whatever had gone before, she would have won. For Klara, Laszlo’s promise was like a buried treasure whose whereabouts only she knew, for only she knew of its
existence
, and, as a result, no one could steal it from her. This
knowledge
kept Klara calm and happy and so, while she docilely followed Princess Kollonich to all these elaborately planned
expeditions
, she did so with a secret smile and almost pitied her as she dutifully did what she was told.

The fate of the little maid, which had so affected Laszlo, hardly touched Klara at all since she never knew what had happened. One day she was dressed by Fräulein Schulze and when Klara asked where Ilus was the German maid replied casually: ‘
Sie
müsste
nach
Hause
gehen
– she had to go home.’ And Klara, who knew so little about the girl who had served her daily for so many years, assumed that her parents had sent for her. It did not seem very nice of the girl to leave without saying goodbye, thought Klara, but then she dismissed the idea, reflecting that perhaps someone had died and that the girl had had to leave in a hurry. She did not worry about it, thinking that sooner or later she would be back.

 

At noon on the day when Laszlo had gone home at dawn
euphoric
as only a successful gambler can be, the Lubiansky girls and Fredi Wuelffenstein came to luncheon at the Kollonichs’.

During a lull in the conversation Niki turned to Wuelffenstein and asked: ‘Is it true that they played higher than ever at the Casino last night?’

Fredi’s crooked little mouth pouted and he replied only with an odd sound like ‘Pfuh! Pfuh!’ because he prided himself on being as English as possible and knew that things that went on in London clubs were not supposed to be spoken of in front of ladies.

‘Do you gamble too, Count Fredi?’ asked Princess Agnes with a disapproving air. Wuelffenstein shrugged his padded shoulders and gestured uncertainly.

‘Of course he does,’ said Niki, as mischief-making as ever, ‘only he doesn’t like to admit it!’ and, despite a forbidding look from Peter, he went on: ‘I met several people at the Korso today who’d been to the Casino and watched. They said the game was terrific! Oh, I know all about it all right! You lost a little, but Laszlo Gyeroffy was cleaned out. They say he went down forty thousand!’

Mama Agnes looked at Klara but said nothing.

‘Are you coming to the races today?’ Peter asked the Lubiansky girls, who were sitting across the table from him. He did this on purpose to change the subject as he noticed that his sister had
suddenly
gone pale and that her lips were compressed into a tight line of pain.

‘Oh, yes, of course!’ chirped both the girls in unison. ‘We’ve heard it’ll be terribly interesting today, though we don’t really know much about it.’ And they both simultaneously swept into monologues about when they’d leave, how they’d go and who they’d go with, for they had been taught at an early age that only country bumpkins confined their answers to ‘yes’ or ‘no’, while well-brought-up girls chattered on to show how intelligent they were. Klara was grateful to them as it meant that there was no more talk of the previous night’s chemmy game.

As soon as the meal was over Louis Kollonich retired, as he always did, his smoking-room. After she had talked to the Lubiansky girls for moment in the drawing-room, Klara joined him. She sat down on the arm the sofa in front of her father and said, a little awkwardly: ‘May I ask you something important, Papa?’

‘And what is this important thing, my darling?’ Kollonich was always in a good mood as soon as he had lit his first cigar.

Klara blushed and hesitated a moment before speaking.

‘Last time … when we had a talk here … well, afterwards I made Laszlo promise not to gamble any more, and …’

‘Once a gambler, always a gambler!’ interjected her father.

‘But he did promise. He gave me his word, and now Niki says … but he’s never liked Laszlo … no never … and I don’t
believe
, can’t believe … People are so awful, so wicked, they say anything, and it’s often just talk. I’m sure there’s some mistake, or someone’s lying. I don’t believe anybody except you, Papa,
because
I know that you … Only if you said it…’

‘How should
I
know? I never go to the baccarat-room; as you know I only play tarot, or low stakes, and rarely after midnight!’

‘That’s just it. I wanted to ask you if, just once, when Laszlo might be there, when you’ve finished your game … Couldn’t you just look in and see if it’s true? Please go and see, and then I’d know if it’s true or not. Because I can’t believe it, not after he
promised
, I can’t!’ Klara’s face was as white as death and her eyes were filled with desperation.

‘
Na!
Na!
Na!
Don’t get so excited. I’ll go and look and then we shall know!’

Kollonich reached out and tapped his daughter’s knee
soothingly
. Suddenly she bent down, picked up his hand and kissed it, and then she leant over and kissed him on the forehead above his little pug-shaped nose.

‘Thank you! Oh, thank you! And you’ll do it soon, won’t you, Papa?’

Kollonich nodded: ‘The sooner the better!’ he said.

At the door Klara turned. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you? It’ll be just between us … no one else?’

Kollonich understood at once that she didn’t want her
stepmother
to know.

‘
Na ja! Na ja!
Just between us,
natürlich
!’ and he gave a wink as he smiled back at his daughter.

 

That evening another dance was given at the Park Club, one of the last of the season.

The Kollonich carriage rolled majestically out of the inner courtyard of their great town house soon after eleven o’clock.
Inside
were Princess Agnes and Klara. They were a little late because Klara had taken longer than usual over getting ready. For once the princess said nothing, though on other occasions she would not have missed the opportunity for a nagging remark if Klara kept her waiting even for a few moments. Today she knew that Klara was upset and worried, and maybe the delay had been caused by Klara’s pondering over what she had heard about Laszlo that morning. She realized that what Niki had let fall had been a great disappointment to her and knowing her stepdaughter’s character so well, she thought it wiser to leave her alone with her thoughts. A single acid reference to ‘that Laci’ and Klara would fly angrily to his defence. Accordingly she sat beside her in silence and didn’t interrupt Klara’s train of thought with a single word.

Ever since lunch Klara had been tortured by confusion and doubt. Was it possible that he had promised her, given his solemn word, and still gambled? It couldn’t be a complete lie, for surely even her brother wouldn’t dare? She didn’t want to believe any of it and so searched her mind for a reasonable explanation, but no explanation seemed reasonable or acceptable. She remembered her stepmother’s words, ‘that two-timing Laci’ – could that really be true too? What about the story of Laszlo and Fanny Beredy? When Mama Agnes had told her of it she had rejected the tale with all the calm conviction and moral superiority of someone sure of her ground. Now Klara began to wonder, and no matter how hard she tried to suppress her growing doubts, they surfaced again and again in the form of a heart-breaking possibility.

From the moment that Niki had let drop those
mischief-making
words at lunch Klara had tormented herself, though she had said nothing to anyone else for that would have been too
humiliating
. All afternoon she had been with others, either paying calls or having tea at Gerbeaud’s. At dinner she had made a great effort to appear natural and unconcerned, but these nagging thoughts had never left her. Afterwards, when dressing for the ball, she had decided that she would purposely make them leave late for, if they arrived as early as they usually did, Laszlo would have a chance of speaking to her before her father had a chance to find out the truth. Before talking to him she had to know whether or not he had broken his word to her. No doubt Mama Agnes would be cross but this was worth risking and, indeed, she hardly cared. The only important thing was that they should arrive when Laszlo was so completely taken up with organizing the ball that he would not have time to see her and deny everything before she knew whether he were lying or not. The fear that he might lie to her hurt her most, for that would be the most terrible thing that could happen. Nothing would be worse than that! To be doubly sure that he had no opportunity, she decided to arrange matters so that he would be unable to sit next to her at supper.

It turned out just as she planned, though Klara found herself obliged to do it rather more obviously than she would have wished. When the last figure of the cotillion had come to an end, Gyeroffy had been standing just behind her and so it was
impossible
that he had not noticed that she had led her partner from one table to another until she had found one that had just two places unoccupied, leaving no room for Laszlo to join them. She had to do this in a rush, for she was afraid that someone would have noticed. In reality nobody did except Laszlo who, with growing astonishment and pain, saw what was happening and understood what she was doing. What made it worse was that it was Warday who was seated on Klara’s right.