The Quality of Mercy Read Free Page A

he said eagerly. ‘Let us have one last night of “Old Vienna” before it vanishes for ever.’
    She looked doubtful. ‘I’ve been to the Spanish Riding School if that’s what you mean.’
    ‘No, no! Not that – I hate horses anyway and they hate me – nor the Hofburg – not even Schönbrunn, though I would like to take you there sometime. No, I mean an old-fashioned Vienna Ball where we can waltz to music by Strauss. There are balls and dances every night until Lent. This year,’ he added wryly, ‘it will indeed be a time for penitence. Next week is the Konsularakademie ball which the diplomatic corps and members of the government attend. It is what I think you call a “glittering occasion”.’
    ‘And you can go?’
    ‘That is part of the paradox! As a Jew I may not be welcome in certain bars and clubs but at the ball I shall be treated like any other gentleman. Nothing unpleasant – Da gibs koa Sünd ! as we say here. Everyone knows my father and they know why he is in prison. I have no doubt they will do what they can to protect him.’
    ‘It’s a mad world!’ Verity exclaimed.
    ‘It is indeed. Until I am thrown into a camp I am quite acceptable in society, at least until our government surrenders to the Nazis.’
    ‘You think they will?’
    ‘There can be no doubt of it. Chancellor Schuschnigg is a good man but he cannot go against the vast majority of Austrians who wish to be part of the new German Reich. “ Und ist kein Betrug in seinem Munde gefunden worden. ”’
    Verity furrowed her brow so he translated: ‘“And out of his mouth there came forth neither deceit nor falsehood.”’
    She had not liked to snub the young man by refusing his invitation and it certainly promised to be an interesting occasion. She might glean information from people of influence, people whom, up to now, she had singularly failed to meet. But there was a problem: what was she to wear? Georg would, he said, borrow his father’s white tie and tails. There was nothing for it, she told herself, but to buy something especially for the ball. On the face of it, it was absurd to spend money on a dress she would probably only wear once but she owed it to Georg not to look out of place. And it wasn’t only a dress. She would need gloves, shoes and an evening bag and she would have to have her hair done. She suddenly felt more cheerful. She would give this young Jew something to be proud of.
    She went to Spitzer for her dress. Fortunately, the manager spoke good English and, when she had explained her predicament, he was most helpful. An hour later she came out with a gown of shimmering moiré, the colour of ‘lake water’ as the manager put it, and a black evening cloak. She wished Edward was there to reassure her but the dress looked all right, she thought. Gloves she bought from Zacharias – long white kid gloves so sensuous she wanted to stroke her face with them. She found shoes at Otto Grünbaum and an evening bag – so small it would hardly take a handkerchief – exquisitely decorated with hundreds of tiny pearls. Flushed with success, she also bought a fan made from peacock feathers, which she practised opening and closing with a twist of her wrist.
    Georg had said he would pick her up from her flat at eight o’clock but the hour came and went with no ring at the bell. At first she was anxious and then angry. Here she was all dressed up with nowhere to go, as the saying went. She had been made a fool of and she was not someone to take that lying down. Just as she was about to tear off her finery and go to bed in a sulk, there was a violent knocking on her door.
    It was Georg, unusually flustered and almost be-draggled. ‘I am so sorry – forgive me, please – I was delayed – unavoidably delayed,’ he added as though grabbing at the phrase for support.
    Verity’s anger dissipated. He had obviously been in a fight. His evening dress was stained with mud and his tie was all awry. He had a cut on his cheek