The Judas Tree Read Free Page A

‘Yet how wonderful to be able to give effect to all one’s wishes.’
    A considerable silence followed while they savoured the hard-water tea, then suddenly, an upward glance arrested, she exclaimed:
    â€˜My dear friend … you have bought it!’
    She had seen the Vuillard at last and rising, excitedly, though still skilfully, retaining cup and saucer, she moved across the room to inspect it.
    â€˜It is lovely … lovely! And looks so much better here than in the gallery. Oh, that so delightful child, on the little stool. I only hope Leuschner did not rob you.’
    He stood beside her and together, in silence, they admired the pastel. She had the good taste not to over-praise, but as they turned away, looking around her at the mellow eighteenth-century furniture, the soft grey carpet and the Louis XVI tapestry chairs, at his paintings, his Pont Aven Gauguin, signed and dated, above the Tang figures on the Georgian mantel, the wonderful Degas nude on the opposite wall, the early Utrillo and the Sisley landscape, his richly subdued Bonnard, the deliciously maternal Mary Cassat, and now the Vuillard, she murmured:
    â€˜I adore your room. Here you can spend your life in the celebration of beautiful things. And better still when you have earned them.’
    â€˜I think I am entitled to them.’ He spoke modestly. ‘As a young man, in Scotland, I had little enough. Indeed, then I was miserably poor.’
    It was a mistake. Once he had spoken the words he regretted them. Had be not been warned never to look back, only forward, forward, forward. Hastily he said:
    â€˜But you … until the war, you always lived …’ he fumbled slightly, ‘… in state.’
    â€˜Yes, we had nice things,’ she answered mildly.
    Again there was silence. The half-smiling reserve she had given to the remark was truly heroic. She was the widow of the Baron von Altishofer, who came of an old Jewish family that had acquired immense wealth from state tobacco concessions in the previous century, with possessions ranging from a vast estate in Bavaria to a hunting lodge in Slovakia. He had been shot during the first six months of the war and, although she was not of his faith, she had spent the next three years in a concentration camp at Lensbach, On her eventual release, she had crossed the Swiss border. All that remained to her was the lakeside house, the Seeburg, and there, though practically penniless, she had striven courageously to rebuild her life. She began by breeding rare Weimaraner dogs. Then, while the ignominy of an ordinary pensionnat was naturally unthinkable, friends – and she had many – came to stay and to enjoy, as paying guests, the spaciousness of the big Germanic schloss and the huge overgrown garden. Indeed, a very exclusive little society had now developed round the Seeburg, of which she herself was the centre. What fun to restore the fine old place, fill it with furniture of the period, replant the garden, recondition the statuary. Had she hinted? Never, never … it was his own thought, a flight of fancy. Self-consciously, rather abruptly, he looked at his watch.
    â€˜I think we should be going, if you are ready.’
    He had decided to take her to the party in full fig: Arturo wore his best blue uniform, a lighter shade than navy, and they went in the big car. Since this was the only Rolls in Melsburg its appearance always made something of a spectacle.
    Seated beside her, as they glided off, his sleeve touching hers on the cushioned armrest, he was in an expansive mood. Although his marriage had been a catastrophic failure he had, since his retirement, seriously considered the prospect of – in Wilenski’s vulgar phrase – having another go. During the eighteen months they had been neighbours their friendship had developed to such an extent as to induce gradually the idea of a closer companionship. Yet his mind had hitherto dwelt on young and