Stories by Doris Lessing Read Free Book Online Page B

was in this very hotel. Winter. A winter vacation. There was a woman …” He paused, smiling. “How can I describe her?”
    But the Captain, it seemed, was not prepared to assist. He was frowning uncomfortably towards Rosa. His expression said quite clearly: Really, must you?
    Herr Scholtz appeared not to notice it. “I was, even in those days, not backward—you understand?” The Captain made a movement of his shoulders which suggested that to be forward at eighteen was not a matter for congratulation, whereas at twenty-five …
    “She was beautiful—beautiful,” continued Herr Scholtz with enthusiasm. “And she was obviously rich, a woman of the world; and her clothes …”
    “Quite,” said the Captain.
    “She was alone. She told me she was here for her health. Her husband unfortunately could not get away, for reasons of business. And I, too, was alone.”
    “Quite,” said the Captain.
    “Even at that age I was not too surprised at the turn of events. A woman of thirty … a husband so much older than herself … and she was beautiful … and intelligent…. Ah, but she was magnificent!” He almost shouted this, and drained his glass reminiscently towards Rosa’s back. “Ah …” He breathed gustily. “And now I must tell you. All that was good enough, but now there is even better. Listen. A week passed. And what a week! I loved her as I never loved anyone….”
    “Quite,” said the Captain, fidgeting.
    But Herr Scholtz swept on: “And then one morning I wake, and I am alone.” Herr Scholtz shrugged and groaned.
    The Captain observed that Herr Scholtz was being carried away by the spirit of his own enjoyment. This tale was by now only half for the benefit of Rosa. That rich dramatic groan—Herr Scholtz might as well be in the theatre, thought the Captain uncomfortably.
    “But there was a letter, and when I read it …”
    “A letter?” interrupted the Captain suddenly.
    “Yes, a letter. She thanked me so that the tears came into my eyes. I wept.”
    One could have sworn that the sentimental German eyes swam with tears, and Captain Forster looked away. With eyes averted he asked nervously, “What was in the letter?”
    “She said how she hated her husband. She had married him against her will—to please her parents. In those days, this thing happened. And she had sworn a vow to herself never to have his child. But she wanted a child….”
    “What?” exclaimed the Captain. He was leaning forward over the table now, intent on every syllable.
    This emotion seemed unwelcome to Herr Scholtz, who said blandly, “Yes, that was how it was. That was my good fortune, my friend.”
    “When was that?” enquired the Captain hungrily.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “When was it? What year?”
    “What year? Does it matter? She told me she had arranged this little holiday on grounds of her bad health, so that shemight come by herself to find the man she wanted as the father of her child. She had chosen me. I was her choice. And now she thanked me and was returning to her husband.” Herr Scholtz stopped, in triumph, and looked at Rosa. Rosa did not move. She could not possibly have failed to hear every word. Then he looked at the Captain. But the Captain’s face was scarlet, and very agitated.
    “What was her name?” barked the Captain.
    “Her name?” Herr Scholtz paused. “Well, she would clearly have used a false name?” he enquired. As the Captain did not respond, he said firmly: “That is surely obvious, my friend. And I did not know her address.” Herr Scholtz took a slow sip of his wine, then another. He regarded the Captain for a moment thoughtfully, as if wondering whether he could be trusted to behave according to the rules, and then continued: “I ran to the hotel manager—no, there was no information. The lady had left unexpectedly, early that morning. No address. I was frantic. You can imagine. I wanted to rush after her, find her, kill her husband, marry her!” Herr Scholtz