Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Read online

  1929

  16

  The date was set for March 30 and true to his word, Alfred Haas gave his daughter a wedding that no one was likely to forget. But once again, the Reinhardts were left without any kind of involvement and Paul reminded them in a gentle way that, after all, she was Alfred’s only daughter and he would spare no effort and expense. Alfred Haas hired two wedding coordinators to take care of the details. Their plans included a lavish dinner for five hundred guests at Vienna’s famous Hotel Imperial, which, among its many merits, was known for having the finest ballroom. After the long ceremony, which would include a high mass, the dinner and dancing would begin and end well into the night, making the newlyweds too tired for travel; therefore, a honeymoon suite was reserved.

  Paul, his future wife, and father-in-law planned an elaborate six-week honeymoon, which included many places both had been in Switzerland, but never tired of seeing. It was the south of Switzerland with Locarno and Lugano at the top of their list, and Paul also wanted to meet his former school chums in Zurich again, to show off his beautiful wife. Irene had the French Riviera on her mind and, of course, Paris.

  The honeymoon was, of course, a gift from Alfred Haas, who personally made all the reservations and considered himself the happiest man alive. Paul kept insisting he would pay all the expenses, as Irene would be his wife by then and, aside from being wealthy himself, his father gave him both of his factories as a wedding gift, as at his age, Philip was getting tired of working so much. The truth was, however, that while Paul was working, Philip could be found in the ‘House of Lust’ playing.

  So far, the only surprise at Irene’s entrance on the arm of her glowing, proud father was the disappointing wedding dress from the French designer, Jean Patou, who, like others in the world of fashion, took the waistline away. Her dress, although from the finest white velvet, had a high neckline and was straight to the floor. She held a large bouquet of white lilies adorned with green leaves, her long auburn hair tied back with a velvet bow. Of course, her fixed, beautiful smile was directed at her father with a slight wink, showing how happy she felt.

  “Not even one bridesmaid?” whispered several who were regulars at almost every big wedding. “Maybe she wants all the attention directed at herself.” They agreed, and being informed about the coordinators, they knew Irene Reinhardt-Haas, as she requested to be called, had the last word on everything.

  The lavish dinner made up for the lack of wedding attendants, and the variety of wines as well as the desserts were the best anyone could remember. After the reception, dancing began and it was repeated often how like her father she was.

  Rupert and Gisela departed early, seeing no reason to spend more time with people with whom they had very little in common. Both wished Paul good luck, and Gisela added in a whisper, “You need it. She is too good looking.”

  “Don’t be jealous, sister. You get better looking each time I see you,” he replied, and she followed Rupert who said his good-byes to Victoria. Erika advised her brother-in-law to stay at the Hotel Danieli when in Venice, and Peter agreed.

  “I really don’t know if Venice is on our list, but there is always another year,” Paul uttered, wondering where his wife was, as a few older friends from Lindenfels were ready to leave. Alfred Haas always was a charming and interesting man to talk to, and among his spellbound listeners was Victoria, who was only concerned with Paul’s future. Although Irene was nothing less than sweet and kind to her, expressing how proud she was to be a Reinhardt, she couldn’t help but notice her endless flirtation with every man in the room while dancing. Paul was in heaven each time they talked or danced together, but so were the rest of the men, including Philip.

  Paul, feeling as though he had talked to everybody in Vienna, thought his new shoes were the most uncomfortable pair he had ever owned and, knowing their suitcases were up in their rooms, decided to change them. When he asked the concierge for the key, he was told his wife had picked them up a short while ago. “So she has the same problem,” he thought to himself until he reached the suite and heard talking with groaning. Turning white like a ghost, he opened the unlocked door, Irene having completely forgotten to lock it in her frenzy to let Philip in for a quick, shameless act, knowing they wouldn’t see each other for the next few weeks.

  “Oh, my God!” Paul stuttered in disbelief seeing the two nude bodies. “I married my father’s whore!” Philip and Irene turned equally white, being completely at a loss for words. “So that’s what I got for a… a… I will never be able to say for my wife! A dirty old man with a prostitute!”

  Philip got out of bed, still shaking, and put his clothes on in a hurry quivering, “Paul… please. Not a word to your mother.”

  “Not because you ask me, but only because I love Mother!”

  “I’ll make it up to you. I swear I will,” he stammered, still white, and left the room.

  Philip didn’t know how he descended the wide, red carpeted staircase, looked for Victoria who was still listening to Irene’s father, not noticing his change of color due to the bright light. “There you are, Mr. Reinhardt. We were looking for you to say goodbye and to tell you, you have the most gorgeous daughter-in-law. We have known her father a lifetime,” Regina Fiedler said ever so proudly. “What a beautiful couple,” her husband joined in.

  “Forgive me, but I don’t feel well. Possibly ate and danced too much,” he apologized, just in case they noticed any change in him.

  “That’s why we are leaving,” Regina replied in a whisper. “One is not used to this kind of food.”

  “And wine,” her husband smiled. “All imported from France.”

  “So I noticed,” Philip smiled as well as possible, noticing his wife coming their way. They only waved, having said their farewells already.

  “Don’t you feel well, Philip?”

  “I am glad you are so observant. I don’t know if I drank, ate, or talked too much,” he lamented. “but I am ready to go home.”

  “So am I, but we have to wait for Paul and Irene. We won’t see them for a few weeks.”

  “You are right, dearest. I am going to talk to Arthur and Victor Wiland about something. Call on me if you see them.”

  “I will,” she smiled.

  ∼

  Paul told Irene to get dressed, walk down with him, and behave like nothing had happened. She did it without uttering one word and he knew at once she had been in a similar situation more than one time. “I will explain later,” she answered, completely in control again, while Paul didn’t know how to get his needed strength without anybody getting suspicious that something was wrong. They arrived arm in arm saying their thanks, accepting all the good wishes until all but their parents were alone. She embraced her father heartily in tears and promised, loudly enough for the Reinhardts to hear, to make Paul a good wife. That jolly heavyset man also broke out in tears while quivering that he never doubted it for a moment. Philip and Paul never witnessed a better performance as she was in the process of giving the same promise to Victoria who only replied, “Marriage is hard work, Irene. It’s a give and take situation, with women mostly on the short end of it all.”

  “I know,” she smiled looking very sincere. “Paul and I will have no problem we cannot solve together.”

  “And we are hoping, of course, for some grandchildren one of these days,” Alfred Haas smiled. “There are three people waiting to spoil them.”

  “You bet,” Philip replied, and Paul started to hate him even more as he linked his arm in his mother’s. “Darling, the servants are ready to put the place in order.” With a renewed embrace, they said their final good-byes and wished them a good trip.

  “What a day!” Alfred Haas said, shaking hands with both of the Reinhardts simultaneously.

  “You can say that again!” Philip replied.

  ∼

  Arriving in their honeymoon suite, Paul lost no time in ordering Irene to sit down and give him some account of his future with her. “In my eyes, you
are nothing more than a low-down slut who acted her way into the Reinhardt family. You probably went to bed with my father soon after we met. My only way of getting even with you is that I will never ever touch you. You are, as of now, free to do as you like, which on second thought, you would have done anyway.”

  She sighed deeply and said spoke candidly. “We were married in the Catholic faith and you have an obligation, Paul.”

  “Not after you broke yours a few hours later, Irene!” he fumed. “Which brings me right to another subject; you will be referred to by all of our servants as ‘Mrs. Irene’, in no way Mrs. Reinhardt!”

  “Suits me fine. The moment I leave the castle I will be Mrs. Irene.”

  “Whatever… I will talk to my priest about the procedures of an annulment.”

  “Then I have no choice but to confront your mother.”

  He never replied and went in a sitting room which had the elegance and comfort of a salon. A bottle of champagne was in a silver cooler waiting for the newlyweds. Paul took it and put it in front of Irene. “Call someone and have a toast and a good night.”

  “I will as soon as we leave Vienna,” she smiled and closed her bedroom door. A different and unusual Reinhardt marriage had begun.

  Irene took a long, hot bath, but Paul didn’t want to see her again. He undressed, put on his pajamas, took a sleeping pill, and went, teary-eyed, to sleep. “What a day,” he thought, thinking of Alfred Haas’ words.

  17

  Right after her husband’s unexpected accident, life for Gabriella Rosatti, formerly Gaby von Walden, came almost to a complete standstill. Only the baby, having never laid eyes on her father, seemed to be well-adjusted. The ever-present Susanne was happy to take care of little Isabella as Lucas’ parents were incapable of leaving the house, or even holding the baby for that matter. Ingrid and Henry Lebrun were more concerned about Gaby, begging her to start a routine by doing something, as anything was better than staring at the four walls or the baby.

  The change came during Andreas’ visit two months later. He forced Gaby to take her skis and go for a few days with him to the Alps. That was the beginning of turning her life around. She also redecorated her nice apartment in the most tasteful way, thanks to the generous inheritance her mother sent with Andreas, while Aunt Ingrid and Rosatti insisted on paying for Susanne. And Lucas’ monthly pension was quite sufficient to continue in a comfortable lifestyle. Her life became a routine with barely any changes the last five-and-a-half years. She wondered frequently if she had loved Lucas more than she knew during their short marriage, as there was never any shortage of love letters from some unmarried Rosattis, who after a few years of visits to Lausanne, just gave up on her.

  By now, she was a very beautiful widow of twenty-four who had never dated anyone. Years ago, her self-imposed daily routine began first thing in the morning, enjoying the open food markets, picking only the best cuts of meats, cheese, vegetables, and fruits for a hearty meal which her little Isabella obviously enjoyed, as she was growing up fast and healthy. After lunch came a walk to the florist, then she continued on with her daughter to visit the cemetery for a prayer, then proceeded to the park’s playground, watching Isabella play and make new friends.

  Time permitting, Susanne would go along and if not, she paid a visit to the Rosattis or Lebruns before walking home. As time went by, both Rosattis became extremely devoted grandparents as well as in-laws. Somehow, they felt happy and relieved that their Gabriella didn’t remarry as soon as the mourning period was over, as so many other widows did. Instead, she and Isabella went with her in-laws to Locarno to visit their growing family of Rosattis, who would spoil her little daughter.

  Thanks to Aunt Ingrid’s obsession with lessons of every kind for a little girl, Isabella was introduced at the age of three to skating and skiing, to playing the piano at four, horseback riding at five, and this year, swimming lessons at Lausanne’s indoor swimming pool. Of course, a once a week visit to a fine café house was a must. She would learn how to sit straight and choose pastry and soda.

  The Rosattis started to be on good terms again, one year after their disagreement about who built the best cars. They promised each other never to talk about vehicles again. The result was that Rosattis came to Lausanne with their newly improved Fiats, which gained in popularity or an elegant Bugatti, as for some of the well-to-do Rosattis, this was the car one just had to have. But Alfredo had just returned from Germany with a brand-new Mercedes-Benz to take his wife, Gabriella, and Isabella to Locarno to spend several weeks there.

  He was sort of semi-retired, as the death of Lucas had taken away much of his desire to run the restaurant, so three years ago he made his former kitchen chef an equal partner, then enlarged the Rosatti-Torelli restaurant, not losing a single one of the regular patrons, but adding many more. It was still the best Italian restaurant in Lausanne.

  Since the discussion of cars was taboo, they had to find a new conversation whenever the male Rosattis had their visits. Now it was Germany’s new “messiah”. As far as the Rosattis were concerned, Hitler was a little private from the Great War who was stirring up more troubles. But then again, they were Swiss first and foremost, strongly believing in the fairness of their founding fathers. So far, their treasured neutrality kept them out of many wars between other neighbors.

  Astrid von Walden was now a devoted Christian Scientist, though her son Andreas, who was now a Doctor of Medicine, convinced his mother the necessity of hospitals and doctors. They arrived in Lausanne to stay with her ailing sister, Ingrid, therefore missing Paul Reinhardt’s big wedding. After a few days, Andreas returned to Vienna and Astrid continued her trip with a visit to Gaby and Isabella in Locarno. Gaby still showed no interest in visiting Vienna, let alone returning. She and Isabella rented covered beach chairs, planning to spend a day there to do as they pleased. It was the middle of May and an extremely warm day.

  Gaby, after swimming with her daughter, was still in her swimming suit, stretched out full length while reading Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace, which at times bored her. But since Aunt Ingrid insisted she read it, she felt today was as good as any, while from time to time glancing at Isabella’s delight in building sandcastles. She kept a tiny metal water pitcher on the tip of the beach chair just in case the dry sand didn’t give her the desired texture.

  “Don’t look, Mama,” she said in Italian, which she spoke just as fluently as French, also planning to learn German in the near future.

  “I won’t, darling. I like surprises.”

  “It’s one of the nicest castles I ever built.”

  “All of your castles are nice.”

  “But this time I won’t forget the horse stables.”

  “Glad to hear that, sweetheart.” No sooner had Gaby finished the sentence when a ball hit her almost finished castle. Gaby jumped up and noticed a man with his son running in their direction, while Isabella was still too startled to speak.

  “Oh God, Madame, we are so very sorry. The ball just more or less went in a different direction.” His son was equally embarrassed looking at Isabella.

  “May I help repair the castle? I am so sorry too.” Their French accent was obvious. He noticed that Gaby had the looks from a northern country; her light blonde hair, blue eyes, and light complexion, never mind the perfect slender shape he discovered with his by now lusty look.

  Gaby observed that a young woman made large strides toward them, and assumed it was his wife. They all introduced themselves, still regretting the mishap, his wife bending down very kindly, assuring her that on a day like today too many people are on the beach to play ball.

  Isabella finally found her voice after seeing all those nice people surrounding her. “I know it was an accident. I always build castles here, right Mama?” Gaby nodded with a smile. “I will build a new one tomorrow.”

  “Yes, you will. And since you are from France, maybe you have a few suggestions?” Gaby inquired, looking at their son Marcel. He appeared to be between nine an
d ten and seemed very well behaved.

  “I have seen Chambord,” he replied humbly, when his father added, “We live in Blois on the Loire. It’s a special place to be if you love castles.”

  “How lucky can we get?” Gaby said to her smiling daughter. Marcel’s parents returned the smile with an obvious sign of relief.

  “I always try to build Versailles, but there is never enough space,” Isabella uttered in sincere disappointment, with everyone trying to suppress their laughter. After all, to that little girl it was a serious project.

  “I’ll tell you what, ma cherie,” Marcel’s mother interjected. “Why don’t we all go for some ice cream at a nice veranda café and we will design as best as we can all the castles we have visited.”

  Isabella clapped her hands and jumped for joy. “Please say yes, Mama!”

  “Of course. All of us deserve some ice cream.”

  They decided at four o’clock in Café Rosatti, as any other place would have never been forgiven.

  “See, my precious, now you can build even more castles. It was a blessing in disguise when the ball hit yours.”

  “Did I behave correctly, Mama?” she asked, concerned.

  “Oh, darling, I was so very, very proud of you. I know how much it hurt you after hours of hard work, but I didn’t even detect one little tear!”

  “I am proud too,” she said, embracing her mother who was ready to settle down with her book again. Isabella looked at her watch and asked with a plea, “Mama, we still have an hour to spare. May I give you a new hairdo?”

  “And why not? You must have noticed how badly I need one.” With a big smile she went to their beach chair to look in Gaby’s handbag and fetched a comb. She stood spread eagle over her mother’s small waist, took the pins out of her upheld hair to fit her bathing cap and tried to rearrange it, while twisting her face in the sweetest way. Isabella was once more in her glory. However, she couldn’t help but notice a man sitting nearby in a beach chair reading his newspaper, while glancing from time to time sideways watching and listening, including the incident with the ball, for the last hour.