Love Conquers War Read online

  “It sounds – sensible,” Tilda said.

  “It is sensible,” he answered. “I could, of course, roll myself onto the floor, which would be exceedingly uncomfortable, or you could sit bolt upright on the hard chair, but there is no other alternative.”

  “There is not,” Tilda agreed, “and so we will ‘bundle’ if that is the right word! ”

  She put the bolster down the centre of the bed and then she said,

  “I will undress in the kitchen, but will you shut your eyes as you did this morning?”

  “I will.”

  “You promise?”

  “Soldier’s honour!”

  “I don’t think that sounds very convincing. Who is your Patron Saint of Obernia?”

  “There are a number of them,” Rudolph replied. “St. Gerhardt is, I suppose, one of the most popular.”

  “I have never heard of him,” Tilda said. “What did he do?”

  “He started off rather well,” Rudolph answered, “by killing a few dragons and winning the hand of a Princess. Then he deteriorated.”

  “In what way?”

  “He left his castle, his wife and his children, and roamed about the country in a monk’s robe trying to find pieces of the True Cross.”

  “I suppose he wanted to be holy?”

  “I call it a very easy excuse for renouncing your responsibilities,” Rudolph remarked. “But I will swear on St. Gerhardt, if it pleases you.”

  “We have to impose a penalty in case you break your vow,” Tilda teased him.

  “What do you suggest?”

  “What would you hate to lose or give up most?”

  He thought for a moment and then he said with a twinkle in his eyes,

  “I suppose the answer to that is ‘wine, women and song’, although I am not too particular about the song!”

  “Very well. Now you must repeat after me,

  ‘St. Gerhardt, if I tell a lie,

  No wine or women till I die’.”

  “That is far too stringent!” Rudolph protested.

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  He thought for a moment and then he said slowly,

  “St. Gerhardt, if I tell a lie,

  Give me only one woman till I die.”

  “I should have thought that was nearly as bad,” Tilda said. “It would mean you would have to be married and there would be no more Mitzis and no more gay amusing supper parties. You would just have to sit at home with your wife!”

  She laughed and then unexpectedly her eyes were held by Rudolph’s and the laughter died on her lips.

  She did not know why, but for the moment it was impossible to move, impossible to breathe.

  “It would depend who I married!” Rudolph said in his deep voice.

  Chapter Six

  Tilda was helping Frau Sturdel wash up the breakfast things.

  They were a little later than before, as they had sat talking and laughing with Rudolph.

  “I think the baby will arrive this morning,” Frau Sturdel was saying.

  “Are you sure?” Tilda enquired.

  “As sure as one can be of anything in this wicked world,” Frau Sturdel replied. “But babies are always unpredictable.”

  Tilda smiled.

  She put down the plate she had dried and then, glancing out of the window, let out a frightened gasp.

  “Frau Sturdel!” she called out in an urgent tone.

  “What is it?”

  “Look!”

  Below the bungalow they could see two Policemen in uniform climbing slowly towards them.

  “That is our local Constable and another,” Frau Sturdel said.

  “What shall we do? Where can we hide?” Tilda asked nervously.

  Frau Sturdel crossed the kitchen and slipped the bolt into place on the door.

  Then she said to Tilda,

  “Quick! Into the bedroom!”

  Tilda obeyed and Rudolph looked up in surprise as they both entered.

  “There are two Policemen coming here,” Tilda explained in a low voice.

  Frau Sturdel went to the wardrobe that stood on one wall of the bedroom.

  “Get into the centre of the bed, both of you,” she ordered.

  Tilda looked at her in surprise, but Rudolph moved a little from the side and Tilda, after a moment’s hesitation, lifted the düchent and lay down beside him.

  She was not quite certain what Frau Sturdel intended, but she felt terrified that they might both be taken away for interrogation at the Police Station.

  From a shelf on top of the wardrobe Frau Sturdel took down a heavy cover, which Tilda knew in England was called a ‘patchwork quilt’.

  Tiny pieces of different coloured materials were joined together to make an extremely intricate and pretty bed cover.

  But there was no time to notice anything!

  She lay straight out beside Rudolph and he put his arm around her.

  She quivered and felt a moment’s embarrassment, because she had never been so close to a man before.

  Frau Sturdel was covering them with her patchwork quilt.

  As she did so, Tilda realised that the fact that they were in the centre of the bed would be concealed by the düchent, which would only appear more buoyant and puffy than usual.

  Otherwise, when they were completely covered, there would be no reason to suspect that the bed was occupied.

  As if he understood Frau Sturdel’s intentions, Rudolph separated the two pillows so that his head and Tilda’s were in a space between them.

  Then, even as Frau Sturdel covered them completely, there was a knock at the door.

  “Keep very still!” she whispered.

  She went from the room and across the kitchen.

  She left the bedroom door ajar, as if she had nothing to hide.

  Rudolph and Tilda could hear her pull back the bolt and say in a tone of surprise,

  “Guten morgen, Herr Oberinspektor!”

  “Guten morgen, Frau Sturdel!” a man’s voice replied.

  “You wish to see me?” Frau Sturdel asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” the Constable answered, “and I have brought with me my superior, Herr OberpoIizei-Inspektor.”

  “Guten morgen, mein herr!” Frau Sturdel said. “Will you come in and can I make you a cup of coffee?”

  “It is kind of you, Frau Sturdel, but we have no time,” the Constable replied. “Herr Oberpolizei-lnspektor wishes to ask you a question.”

  “And what can that be?” Frau Sturdel enquired.

  “I am making enquiries,” Herr Oberpolizei-lnspektor said, “about two students who three nights ago stole a Police wagon in Munich.”

  “A Police wagon?” Frau Sturdel ejaculated. “That was a strange thing to do!”

  “They were escaping,” Herr Oberpolizei-lnspektor said firmly, “It was a disgraceful thing to happen and the Police concerned have been severely reprimanded!”

  “I can understand that,” Frau Sturdel said, “but I can assure you, mein herr, there is no Police wagon in this village.”

  “The Police wagon has been recovered,” Herr Oberpolizei-Iinspektor replied, “but the students escaped!”

  “We are a long way from Munich, mein herr.”

  ‘They were last seen climbing the hills to the West of here.” Herr Oberpolizei-lnspektor answered. “Shots were fired in their direction, although it is doubtful if they were hit.”

  “If they were not,” Frau Sturdel said, “I should imagine that they are far away by this time.”

  “That is exactly what I said,” the Constable interposed, “but Herr Oberpolizei-lnspektor insists on asking you if you have any knowledge of these young people.”

  “Two men?” Frau Sturdel asked.

  “The Policemen who fired at them thought, although then were not certain, that it was a man and a woman, but I can see, Frau Sturdel, that you cannot help us in this matter.”

  “I am afraid not,” Frau Sturdel said with a little sigh, “but if I can I will
, of course, get in touch with Herr Oberinspektor, unless – ”

  She paused for a moment.

  “ – Unless you want to search my house? As you see it is not very large and it would be difficult to hide anyone here.”

  “I can see that!” Herr Oberpolizei-Inspektor said, “and you must forgive us for worrying you when I know you are busy with a confinement.”

  “I am indeed,” Frau Sturdel said, “and it has been a long wait for a baby who seems most reluctant to enter the world. I cannot think why!”

  “Perhaps he has no wish to become a rioting student!” the Constable suggested and laughed heartily at his own joke.

  “You always were a wit, Herr Oberinspektor!” Frau Sturdel exclaimed. “But if I was a betting woman, I would like to wager on this baby being a girl!”

  “We must not take up any more of your time, meine frau,” Herr Oberpolizei-Inspektor said coldly as if he thought that such exchanges of pleasantry were a waste of time. “I will make enquiries of the Priest to see if he can help us and afterwards I must go on to the next village.”

  “I hope you will be more successful there than you have been here, mein herr,” Frau Sturdel said.

  “Thank you,” Herr Oberpolizei-Inspektor replied politely. “Guten morgen, Frau Sturdel”

  “Guten morgen, Herr Oberpolizei-Inspektor. Guten morgen, Herr Oberinspektor.”

  The exchange of pleasantries seemed to go on forever.

  Tilda, who had been lying rigid with her face against Rudolph’s shoulder, felt herself relax.

  The Police were leaving and they were safe!

  She knew that Rudolph had been tense too.

  Neither of them had moved a muscle since Frau Sturdel had covered them with the patchwork quilt.

  Now Rudolph’s arm tightened around her.

  They heard Frau Sturdel close the door and Tilda let out her breath with a deep sigh that seemed to come from her heart.

  “Once again we have escaped!” she said in a whisper raising her face in the darkness towards Rudolph.

  He must have looked down at her at the same moment because unexpectedly his mouth was on hers.

  For a moment Tilda was conscious of nothing but surprise and then his lips gave her a strange incredible ecstasy.

  It was as if a shaft of lightning shot through her and she knew that this was what she had been really wanting.

  This was what she had been yearning for ever since she had seen him kissing Mitzi in the woods near the Linderhof.

  She had tried to imagine what they had felt, but the reality was so different, so unbelievably wonderful, that her lips could only cling to his.

  In that moment she forgot the danger they had been in, the heavy darkness of the quilt covering them!

  There was no one else in the world except themselves.

  It was almost a physical pain to take her lips from his as Frau Sturdel folded back the quilt.

  “That was a near shave!” she exclaimed. “I was half-afraid that our local Constable, who is always nosy, would inspect the wardrobe and find your clothes hanging up in it.”

  She took the cover off them and for a moment Tilda realised that it was impossible to move.

  She wanted to stay where she was with her head on Rudolph’s shoulder and his face very close to hers.

  Then he took his arm from her and she was free.

  Automatically, hardly aware of what she was doing. Tilda climbed from the bed to help Frau Sturdel fold up the quilt.

  She put it back in its place on top of the wardrobe.

  “I never thought when my grandmother gave me this that it would prove so useful!” Frau Sturdel was saying.

  “We can only say how deeply grateful we are,” Rudolph told her.

  “After all the trouble I have had with you.” Frau Sturdel said with a smile. “I was not going to hand you over to the Police!”

  “How can we possibly express our thanks?” Rudolph asked.

  “By keeping me out of the sort of trouble you are in!” Frau Sturdel retorted.

  She glanced at the door and said,

  “I must hurry back or they will he coming up the hill to find out what has happened to me. I will be home this evening at the usual time. Goodbye, children.”

  She walked into the kitchen and paused.

  “Frau Weber,” she said, “you must put the meat I brought you for your luncheon in the larder, otherwise the flies will be on it.”

  “I will do that,” Tilda said.

  Her voice sounded a little unsteady even to herself, but she followed Frau Sturdel into the kitchen, obediently putting the meat in the small larder, which was protected by close netting from bluebottles and other flies.

  By the time she had finished, Frau Sturdel was already halfway down the hill.

  Tilda went back into the bedroom.

  Rudolph was sitting up in his usual manner against the pillows.

  As their eyes met, she stood for a moment gazing at him, her face radiant before she ran forward, holding out her hands towards him.

  “Rudolph! Rudolph,” she whispered.

  She wanted, as she had never wanted anything in her life, for him to kiss her again.

  She would have thrown herself into his arms, but he checked her and somehow she found herself sitting on the side of the bed facing him as she had done before.

  “It was a mistake, Tilda,” he said in a low voice. “You have to forget it.”

  “Forget that you – kissed me?” Tilda asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But it was wonderful! The most wonderful thing that has ever – happened to me. Why should I – forget it?”

  He did not answer and after a moment she said in a small, lost little voice,

  “You mean – you did not – like kissing – me?”

  “No, of course I don’t mean that,” Rudolph exclaimed. “It was marvellous! The most perfect kiss I have ever known, but Tilda, it must not happen again,”

  “Why – not?” Tilda asked. “I don’t – understand.”

  He took one of her hands in both of his and looked down at it and Tilda knew that he was feeling for words.

  “Listen to me, Tilda,” he said, “we met by chance. We can mean nothing to each other in the future and I would not wish to hurt you.”

  “But why should you – hurt me?” Tilda asked.

  He did not answer and after a moment she said in a whisper,

  “I – want you to – kiss me again.”

  “Tilda, try to be sensible.”

  “Why should it matter?” Tilda asked. “No one would know any more than they will know – that we have slept together in the same bed.”

  “It is not as easy as that.”

  “Why not? I don’t – understand. You kiss – other women. Why not – me?”

  “I will give you two reasons,” Rudolph replied.

  “What are they?” Tilda enquired.

  “The first is because you are a lady.”

  Tilda wanted to argue about this! To argue that an accident of birth should not be an obstacle to his kissing her!

  But Rudolph went on,

  “Have you ever been inside a Bavarian Church?”

  Tilda looked at him in surprise and replied,

  “Yes, of course. We stopped at lots of Churches on our way through Bavaria. They are beautiful! More beautiful than any other Churches I have ever seen.”

  “Did you look at the carvings?” Rudolph asked, “and did you notice the angels?”

  “But of course,” Tilda answered, “there were angels everywhere, lovely, exquisite, happy little angels dancing above the pulpit, behind the altar and painted on the ceilings.”

  “That is what you look like,” Rudolph said, “a small, lovely, exquisite little angel!”

  There was a depth in his voice that made Tilda gaze at him wide-eyed.

  After a moment’s pause he said,

  “No man who was worthy of the name could hurt anything so perfect, so unbelievably
lovely.”

  “Am I really – like that?” Tilda whispered.

  “I never knew anyone could be so absolutely beautiful!” Rudolph said softly.

  “And I have never seen – anyone so handsome. You said I ought not to tell you so – but I don’t see why I should not do so – any more than I still don’t understand why – feeling as you do – you will not kiss me again.”

  “That is what I am trying to explain to you,” Rudolph persisted.

  He gave a deep sigh.

  “We have our separate ways to go. You are betrothed and we live in different worlds from one another. After you go back to Munich, you will never see me again.”

  His words gave Tilda a sharp pain in her breast. It was as if he had thrown a knife into her body.

  Her fingers tightened on his and she said,

  “But I want to – see you. I want to go – on being with – you.”

  “I want it too,” Rudolph replied, “but it is impossible!”

  There was silence and he did not look at her.

  After a moment Tilda said hesitatingly,

  “If – if we really have to – leave each other, could we not be – happy while we are – together? P-Please, Rudolph – please – kiss me again!”

  “I have told you no,” he said sharply and his voice sounded raw. “You must not drive me too hard, Tilda. I am a man, but I am trying to behave decently as you would expect of a gentleman.”

  “I still don’t – understand why it would matter if you – kissed me again,” Tilda said.

  “One day you will understand,” Rudolph said in a deep voice. “Your husband will doubtless explain it to you.”

  Tilda snatched her hand from between his and said crossly,

  “Now you are talking like Mama! I am sick and tired of people refusing to answer my questions – saying that my husband will tell me this – my husband will tell me that! Supposing he does not?”

  “What did your mother say to you?” Rudolph asked.

  Tilda looked away from him towards the window.

  “I asked Mama,” she said in a low voice, “what – happens when a man – sleeps in the same – bed with – his wife.”