Wanderlust (13 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Wanderlust
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What do you suppose they want from them, Charles?

Just their papers probably. He made little of it and refilled her glass. Don't worry about it. They're terribly officious with each other in these countries, but they won't bother us. He didn't want anything spoiling her trip, and he had begun to hear things earlier that year that concerned him about the Nazi regime. There was no doubt that it was good for Germany, and they were starting to build some really beautiful roads, but their violent anti-Semitism was something that didn't sit well with him. He glanced out the window as Audrey watched, and suddenly one of the men in uniform grabbed the smaller older man by the throat. Everyone on the platform seemed totally startled by it, and the woman who must have been his wife let out a frightened scream. They slapped her husband across the face, their passports disappeared, a few curt words were said to the wife and the other man, and without ceremony the two men in uniform led the smaller man away, protesting, attempting to explain something to them unsuccessfully and gesticulating and calling to his friend and his wife.

What's he saying? ' what did he say? Audrey was standing nervously, frightened by what she had seen, and anguished for the poor woman who was now crying in the other man's arms.

It's all right, Aud. Charles put an arm around her. He told them not to worry about him, that he'll get it straightened out. But now they saw all their luggage being taken off the train, and the woman was still sobbing in the other man's arms as they walked out of sight.

My God, what happened? Distractedly, Audrey hurried outside, and met the conductor almost at once. What happened to that man? She was only slightly embarrassed for making a fuss about it. Everyone else had observed what went on, said nothing at all, and then gone on their way.

It's nothing, mademoiselle. He was quick to reassure her with a smile, and a glance over her head at Charles, as though he would understand. Only a petty criminal attempting to board the train. But he didn't look like a criminal. He looked more like a banker, or a businessman. He had worn a fine hat, a well-tailored suit, and a thick gold watch chain across his vest, and his wife had been expensively dressed too. There is no problem. He walked past her, and in an undertone told the porter to bring them another bottle of champagne, but a few moments later as someone else boarded the train she heard the whispered words, only one of which came clear to her and she looked up at Charles in dismay.

That woman said Juden,' and she was talking about him, wasn't she?

I don't know, Aud. He looked troubled, but he didn't want her to get even more upset than she was.

They were Jews. Or he was anyway. My God ' then it's true, isn't it, the things people are starting to say? My God, Charles ' how terrible ' .

He gently grabbed her arm, as though to bring her back, and he looked deep into her eyes. There's nothing you can do about it, Aud. Don't let it spoil your trip. He wanted that more than anything. And what he said was true. They were helpless to assist the man, so why torture themselves, and more than likely he'd be all right.

Audrey's eyes blazed at his words. It spoiled his trip, didn't it? And his wife's ' and their friends'. She glared at Charles. What if it were James and Violet? If they took James away, would you just let them take him, or would you do something?

Look, dammit, he glared right back at her, more than a little displeased with her argument, that's not the same thing. Of course I wouldn't let it happen to James. But I don't even know this man, and there's nothing we can do to help. Just put it out of your mind. But it had an unsettling effect on them both, until at last the train got under way, and Charlie came to sit beside her on the small velvet settee and took her hands in his.

Aud, there's absolutely nothing we can do about it. He put an arm around her shoulders and she began to cry.

I felt so terrible, Charlie ' why couldn't we have done something for them?

Because you can't always. You can't stop the tides. There are ugly things happening here right now. And maybe it's important that we not get involved.

Do you really believe that? She was shocked at him.

For myself, no. But I would never do anything to jeopardize you. If I had made a scene out there today, I might have wound up in jail, and then what would happen to you? These are powerful people here, Hitler's men. We're in no position to do anything about it, and we have to recognize that. This isn't London or New York. You're a long way from home.

She felt that now, for the first time in this ominous way, and it was difficult not to think about the man they had led away.

It makes you feel so helpless, doesn't it? He nodded his head silently. It had haunted him too. And what she had said to him had hit home. What if it had been James? ... or Aud ... it was a hideous thought as he held her close to him, and they sought comfort in each other's arms, and a while later, desire overtook them again, and he made love to her on the settee, as the countryside slid by, and they both felt more peaceful again as they dressed for dinner that night. It was more like being in a hotel than on a train, and Charles followed her quietly to the dining car, admiring the plunging neckline of her backless white satin dress that showed off the remains of her Riviera tan admirably, and made Charlie ache with desire for her again.

But they spoke of the incident on the platform again at dinner, and talking about it seemed to relieve them both. Is that common here in Austria? Are they arresting all the Jews? She looked desperately concerned as the waiter served the fourth of their wines.

I'm not sure. I heard something about it in Vienna in June, and in Berlin a few months ago. It may just be random attacks. They claim they're only after enemies of the Reich, but I don't trust Hitler somehow, and the definition leaves the interpretation rather vague. Doesn't it? She looked unnerved and she agreed with him.

James said the same thing in Antibes when we talked about it one night. It's frightening, the way Hitler wants to militarize the country. You know, it can only lead to war. Why aren't more people frightened by that?

Because not very many people agree with us, I'm afraid. The Americans certainly don't. They seem to think he's marvelous, from what I can judge.

That makes me sick. Audrey was thinking of the man in the station again. And Charles looked terribly serious when he lit his cigar this time. It's a luxury to enjoy the freedom we do. They were reminded of it all the more as they rolled into Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Rumania, and at the few stops they made, uniformed officials would get on. But even then, one never saw all of the passengers. It was amazing how many traveled secluded in their compartments, giving private parties for the group they traveled with, or simply being alone to watch the countryside or drink champagne with their mistresses or wives. Audrey and Charles got out to stretch once or twice, and as they rapidly approached Istanbul, she began to look sad, and it was on their last walk the night before they were to arrive that she turned her eyes sorrowfully up to his. The days in Venice and on the Orient Express had been like a honeymoon, and neither of them wanted to see it end.

I can't believe we're almost there ' a dream of a lifetime, and it's over in two days. Somehow, she sighed, it should take longer than that, don't you think?

Charles smiled and squeezed her hand a little tighter as they walked along. They seemed to talk for hours about politics and books, his travels, her father's adventures so long ago, the brother he had lost, Annabelle, even Harcourt ' her photographs ' . There always seemed to be more to say, something more they wanted to do. It was difficult to believe that they would be in Istanbul the next day, and she would be leaving for London again the day after that, and God only knew when he would see her again.

When they boarded the train again, they sat watching the countryside roll by in the early dusk, the shepherds wandering the hills with their flocks on their way home through the woods. It looked almost biblical as night fell and Audrey held out a hand to him.

I keep thinking about that man, wondering what happened to him.

Charles looked at her soberly. They probably let him go, and he caught the next train. You can't torment yourself over something like that. This isn't the States, Aud. Strange things happen here. You can't get involved in what they do. It was one of the reasons for his success in writing about remote parts of the world. He was a professional observer and never got involved. He had been there when the Japanese attacked Shanghai in '32, and he had been allowed to leave and had been back several times since, but part of that freedom stemmed from the fact that he never interfered with what he saw, no matter how troubling it was, and he tried to explain that to her now. It's the price we pay for the privilege of being there, Aud. You have to pretend it's not happening ' or at least not to you.

That's awfully difficult, isn't it?

Sometimes. But you'll get hurt otherwise. He sighed and sat back again. He was thinking of other things. Their last moments on the Orient Express, and then they had only one more day before she headed west again and he began his interminable journey to the East. He would have loved to take a trip like that with her one day, but he didn't even mention it to her now. Instead, he looked out into the night, thinking of the exotic pleasures of Istanbul. You're going to love it, Audrey. It's an incredible place. Different from anything you've ever seen. There was something wondrous about showing it to her, like a whole new world, a new life, and she newly born into it with him. It was a heady experience for them both, and he talked about his experiences all through dinner that night, as she listened, fascinated, wishing, as he had, that there would be opportunities for them to travel together again. And after another enormous meal, they went back to their rooms, and there was a sadness in the air which they both felt, as she tried to tell him how happy she was she'd come.

But there was more they didn't know how to say. Somehow, speaking of Istanbul kept reality away, as though she would be there forever with him, and not just for one day before leaving again, to go in separate directions, back to their separate lives. It was Audrey who had the courage to say the words first, as he looked unhappily at her.

I can't imagine a life without you anymore, Charles. Her voice was sad and soft as she looked at him. Isn't that strange, after such a short time? It was almost as though they had gotten married somewhere along the way and hadn't noticed it, or as though the act of making love had created an un-severable bond between them. And yet that wasn't what Harcourt and Annabelle felt ' it was more like what James shared with Lady Vi. Was it that they had been endowed with a rare gift then. and what would happen to it now?

I can't imagine leaving you. He was worried about her trip back, and her life after that. It seemed so unfair that they couldn't stay like this, traveling together, for a long, long time. But I don't suppose this would be much of a life for you. He watched her eyes to see what she thought, as though testing her. He sat back in his chair with a sigh. Could you be happy with a rootless life like this one day? He wasn't ready yet, but perhaps soon. He had been toying with the idea ever since leaving Antibes, and especially in the past few days on the train.

But she was always honest with him. I could be, she smiled sadly at him from where she sat, if I didn't have my family to think about.

Haven't you got a right to a life of your own? It annoyed him to hear her talk that way. He could have understood if she had told him she would detest traveling with him, but he didn't want to hear about her responsibilities anymore.

I don't have that right yet, Charles. She never lost sight of that. Maybe I will one day.

When? When you're forty-five years old, and you've brought up all of your sister's kids? When do you think they'll let you go? Next week? Next year? In ten years? ' five? ' you're kidding yourself, Audrey, they'll never let you go. Why should they? You're the best thing they've got. And he was angry about it. Why should they have her if he could not. And it was their fault that she wouldn't stay with him. It didn't dawn on him that she couldn't have traveled forever with him anyway, with no formal bond, just their love to carry them along.

What difference does it make? She was growing angry too. They were both unhappy that their time together was almost at an end, and there was no one to be angry at except each other as they rode the last miles on the train they had enjoyed so much. Do you really want to be married one day, Charles? She wasn't convinced of that, but he wouldn't admit it to her.

Why not?

That's hardly the right way to look at it. Why not?'

And you're the authority on marriage, I suppose. You, who consider yourself an old maid and is perfectly content to give it all up.

What difference does it make? Would you prefer if I were hounding you to marry me, Charles? Is that what you want? I don't really think it is. She was shouting at him, and hadn't realized it, until he strode across the elegant drawing room and pulled her to her feet, glaring at her, with both hands on her shoulders, as though he might shake her if she didn't listen to him now.

Do you know what I want? I want you to stay with me. I don't want you to leave Istanbul and go back to catch your damn ship. That's what I want. There were no promises, no proposals, and no vows, but she didn't give a damn. That had never been what she wanted from him. There had been no forethought about his marrying her, no plot, no plan. She just loved the man, and she wanted to be with him too. She didn't want to go back to England to catch the ship either, but she couldn't do otherwise, and she tried to explain that to him again. You're twenty-six years old. You're grown up. Do what you want to do.

You don't understand anything. She pulled herself from his grasp and sat down again, and he sat beside her on the settee and held her hand. Their anger was beginning to fade. It wouldn't solve anything, and they both knew that. Charlie, my love, if you weren't quite so free, you couldn't do exactly what you wanted either. Life just doesn't work that way. In most cases anyway.

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