His warm smile gave her renewed confidence.
“You sleep, ma’am… you’ll be fine tomorrow.”
She nodded.
“It’s going to be all right, Larry.”
“Sure.”
She went along to her bedroom and closed the door. Slowly, she undressed. Her movements were listless. She put on her pyjamas, then too tired even to brush her teeth, she got into bed. She reached up and turned off the light.
Then for the first time in many years, she began to pray, but she was asleep before the prayer was finished.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A GENTLE tapping on the door brought Helga awake with a start. Her mind flashed back to the events of the night and her heart began to hammer. She struggled up in bed.
“Who is it?”
“Me, ma’am. Would you like some coffee?”
She relaxed back on her pillow. Sunlight was coming through the shutters and drapes. She turned on the bedside light and looked at her watch. It was 09.15.
“I’d love some coffee, please.”
“Like something to eat, ma’am?”
She realized she hadn’t eaten since lunch-time the previous day and she was hungry.
“An egg, Larry.”
“Okay, ma’am.”
“Give me about fifteen minutes.”
“Sure, ma’am.” and she heard him walk away.
She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. It took her longer than fifteen minutes to fix her face and her hair, but when she bad finished and regarded herself in the mirror, she was satisfied. She dressed quickly, pulling on a heavy cable stitch sweater and cavalry twill slacks.
As she left her bedroom, Larry came from the kitchen, carrying a tray.
“All ready, ma’am.”
He followed her into the sitting-room and put the tray on the table. He had cooked her an omelette, browned to a turn and as light as any omelette Hinkle had ever cooked. Toast, marmalade and a big pot of coffee completed the meal.
“You’re a real cook, Larry,” she said as she sat down. “This looks wonderful.”
He grinned, pleased.
“Yeah, I reckon if there’s one thing I can do, it’s to cook.”
As she flicked open the napkin, she asked. “Is he all right?”
Larry sat in a lounging chair. He took out a packet of chewing gum.
“Sure. I let him use the bathroom. I gave him a steak for breakfast. He won’t be any trouble now. He knows when he’s licked.
She relaxed and began to enjoy her breakfast.
“I was worried about you last night, Larry. The drive must have been horrible. You were wonderfully quick.”
“It was okay, but I wouldn’t say I was quick. Coming back was bad.” He shrugged. “I made it.”
She ate in silence for some minutes, then she asked, “You didn’t leave the man alone with the letter?”
“No, ma’am… don’t worry. I never left him. He didn’t like it, but Ron’s right. Maxie would cut his own throat for money.”
The omelette finished, she began to butter toast.
“Did you call Ron?” she asked, her voice falsely casual.
“Yeah, I called him.” He leaned forward, his huge hands resting on his knees. “You see, ma’am, Ron means a lot to me. I wanted him to know I was helping you. After the names he called me, I wanted him to know I was doing my best for you.”
“What did he say?”
“He was pleased.”
Suddenly she didn’t want to eat any more. She laid down the toast and pushed aside her plate.
“Did you tell him Archer was here?”
He shook his head.
“No, ma’am… nothing like that. I just told him I was helping you.”
She reached for a cigarette, relaxing a little.
“You must never speak to anyone about Archer being here, Larry.”
“Sure, ma’am. You don’t have to worry.”
But still she wasn’t satisfied.
“But didn’t Ron want to know how you were helping me?”
He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand am could see he was uneasy.
“Yeah, he did ask. I told him we were getting the photos back.”
Her hands turned into fists.
“Did you tell him how… about Max?”
He shifted about in his chair, then he said, “Well, ma’am, I had to. I did tell him Maxie was helping. But that’s okay, ma’am, Maxie and Ron are good friends. Ron was pleased Maxie was helping.”
Helga got stiffly to her feet and walked over to an occasional table. She picked up a lighter and lit her cigarette.
“Didn’t he ask how Max was helping.”
“No, ma’am… he wasn’t interested. He had other things on his mind.”
“What things?”
Harry looked blankly at her.
“He didn’t tell me, ma’am.”
Helga pressed her hands to her face. Her whole future life was in the hands of these men. This magnificent-looking boy could have been an idiot for all the help she could get from him!
After a long pause, Larry said, “There’s a fat guy out there clearing the snow. As soon as he’s through I’ll bring up the car.”
Relieved to do something, Helga went to the window. Below her fat road sweeper friend shovelling the snow from the drive. A wheelbarrow full of grit stood nearby.
“I’ll bring the car up, Larry,” she said. “You must keep out of sight. Village people talk. I don’t want him to see you.”
“Yeah… there’s that. Have you finished?”
“Yes… thank you. It was beautifully cooked.”
He picked up the tray and took it into the kitchen.
She stood by the window watching the road sweeper and when she saw he was finishing, she went into the bedroom took a fifty franc note from her bag, put on her coat, snow shoes and hat and went down the drive. The road sweeper lifted his cap when he saw her. She spent a few minutes chatting with him. He asked respectfully after her husband. He told her there would be no more snow but she didn’t believe him. The village people always told foreigners that better weather was coming. She gave him the fifty franc note and he jerked off his cap, his face wreathed in smiles, then she went down to the car and drove it up to the garage.
She returned to the villa. As she shut the front door, hearing Larry in the kitchen, the telephone bell began to ring. Stripping off her coat and dropping it on the chest, she started for the sitting-room as Larry appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“It’s all right,” she said curtly. “I’ll handle it.”
“Sure, ma’am,” and he went back into the kitchen.
She reached the telephone and picked up the receiver.
“Mrs. Rolfe?”
“Yes… who is it?”
“A call from New York. Mr. Rolfe. A moment, please.”
She drew in a breath of exasperation, sat down and reached for a cigarette. As she was lighting, Rolfe’s querulous voice came on the line.
“Helga?”
“Yes. Did you get my telex.”
“I did… what’s going on? I called the Eden and they told me you had checked out.”
“My dear man, the only way to get this goddamn villa ready for you is to be here,” Helga said, her voice shrill. “I’m wearing my fur coat if that interests you and it is bloody cold! Why are you calling?”
“Helga! You don’t have to use such language!”
“Don’t tempt me, Herman. I’m cold and fed up. I can use a lot worse!”
“I do wish you wouldn’t talk like this. Now listen to me, I want you to come back to New York at once. I’m not coming to Castagnola. I have sudden business in the Bahamas. The Eden tells me it is snowing in Lugano. You know I don’t like the snow. I’ve decided to go to Nassau. You’ll join me. You’ll enjoy the sun. There is a flight from Milan at four o’clock this afternoon to New York. We’ll fly together to Nassau tomorrow.”
Helga gripped the telephone receiver so hard her nail turned white.
“That’s impossible,” she said. “I have the cleaning women here and I can’t and won’t pack in a minute!”
She heard her husband snort.
“Oh, nonsense! You have plenty of time. Now don’t start making difficulties.”
“I intend to make difficulties! I have things to do here. Besides, it is snowing and I’m not driving to Milan in this goddamn snowstorm just to please your whim! If you can’t wait for me, then go ahead and I’ll join you at the end of the week. Where will you be staying?”