Part 5 (2/2)

I murmured something, heaven knows what, and the two men greeted one another. Mr. Elliott pulled up a chair next to mine.

”I take it you must just have arrived here, or we'd have heard all about you long ago. In a place this size every movement is reported.”

I managed to pull myself out of the turmoil into which the appearance of the ”other Englishman” had plunged me, and answered him civilly, if slightly at random. ”Oh, I can believe that. Yes, we've only been here an hour or so. We came from Vienna today by car.”

”And what brings you to Oberhausen?”

”Oh, just. . . touring around.” I caught Timothy's eye on me, worried and speculative even while he replied to some remark of Annalisa's, and made another effort. ”Actually, we -I was expecting to meet my husband down here . . . that is, in Graz . . . but after we got there we heard that he couldn't make it after all. So we thought we might as well take a run out to see the countryside while we were here. . . .

It's very lovely, isn't it?”

”Very. You're staying in the village, then?”

”Only for the night. We're here, at the Edelweiss. We'll go back . . . that is, we'll go in the morning. Tim's got plans to visit Piber, you know, the Lipizzaner stud, so we'll probably go back that way. I can put in the time till I get a message from my husband.”

Some fragment of what I was feeling must have shown through the carefully social mask I had put on. He said in a tone which seemed meant to sound comforting: ”I'm sure that will be soon.”

I managed a creditably bright smile. ”I hope so! But meanwhile Tim and I intend to enjoy ourselves, starting with the circus tonight.”

”Tim is your brother?” This was from Annalisa. ”He didn't tell me his other name. Not March?”

”No, anyway that'd have made me a brother-in-law,” said Timothy. ”My name's Lacy. No relation. Just companion, chauffeur, and general dogsbody.”

”Dog's body?” She made two words of it, puzzled. ”Why do you call yourself that? To me, it sounds not at all polite.”

”It isn't,” I said. ”He's trying to make out that he gets all the work to do organizing our trip. I must say I wouldn't have got far without his German. All right, dogsbody, organize a drink for Mr. Elliott, will you?”

”If you can do that in under twenty minutes,” said Mr. Elliott, ”you're worth your weight in platinum.

Good G.o.d!”

This as the waitress, obedient still to Timothy's lightest gesture, paused by our table. The three of them plunged into a discussion, Mr. Elliott in what sounded like, and probably was, flawless German.

As she sped away I turned to him, composed now.

He had taken a pipe out of his pocket and was lighting it. It made him look very English. Apart from this, in his nondescript and rather shabby clothes, he might have been anything, anybody, from anywhere. He was tallish, and toughly built, and when he moved, it was with a kind of springy precision that indicated strength and muscular control. But his voice and personality, while pleasant enough, struck me then as being singularly colourless. His hair was brown, his eyes of an indeterminate shade somewhere between blue and grey. His hands were good, but I could see a broken nail, and dirt ingrained in them as if he had been working hard at some dirty job. Since I had gathered from Annalisa that he was here as a representative of his firm, this hardly seemed in character, but perhaps he had been lending a kindly hand around the circus. His clothes bore this out; they looked like cheap holiday clothes which had recently had rough and even dirty wear.

I said: ”And you? I understand from Fraulein Wagner that you're down here on business. I was very sorry to hear about the accident.”

”She told you about that, did she? Yes, one of the men who died was a colleague of mine. He'd come down here on a project investigating farming methods and use of fertilizers, and I was actually on my way to meet him when it happened.”

”I'm sorry.” We exchanged a few commiserating phrases, then I asked: ”What is your firm, Mr. Elliott?”

”Our Vienna connection is Kalkenbrunner Fertilizers.”

”Oh? Perhaps you know my husband's firm, Pan-European Chemicals?”

”Of course, though I can't for the moment recall any of their people. Stewart, did he work for them?

Craig? I may have met your husband, but I don't remember, I'm afraid. Is he in Vienna often?”

”I haven't the faintest idea,” I said, with perfect truth, though not perhaps with perfect civility. I was feeling the strain of this polite conversation about nothing. ”Here's your drink. Have you been here ever since the accident happened?”

”Yes. The police inquiries went on rather a long time, and since my firm was willing to give me leave till things were cleared up, I stayed and gave a hand where it was needed.” He smiled. ”Not with the police, with the circus. There's your definition of a dogsbody, Annalisa . . . what I've been doing for the past week.”

”You? You have been marvellous!” The look she gave him was almost as glowing as the one Timothy had given her. ”Mrs. March, you've no idea ... I told you we were a small circus, and this means that everybody has to work hard. And after Uncle Franzl's death ... I think we had not realized how much he did. Perhaps this is always the way when someone dies? He was not a performer, you understand. He was a wonderful rider, but he would do no circus work-I mean, he would not work an act. . . . But he was in charge of the horses, and I told you, he trained Maestoso Leda, and taught me my act. . .”

It seemed to be some kind of release to her to talk, and we all listened quietly. Beside me, Mr. Elliott sat very still and relaxed, his eyes never leaving the girl.

”I remember it well,” she said, ”when he joined us. It was ten years ago, when I was eight, and my grandfather was still alive. We were near Wels, in Upper Austria, and my grandfather had just bought Maestoso Leda, and the Lipizzans themselves were staying in Wels at that time, and we went to see them. You can imagine”-this to Timothy-”how excited they made me! There was also a big horse fair in Wels, and this was the lucky thing, because my uncle Franzl happened to be there with a dealer he went with after he left the Czech circus where he had worked. I think before that he was in the Army. . . . He had not been close to the family, you understand. But he came to see my grandfather, and when we went north that night, into Bavaria, he went with us.” She smiled. ”Now, I can hardly remember the time when he was not part of our circus. I even forgot that his name was not Wagner. . . . My grandfather wished him to change it, and he did. He took charge of all the stable work, and the-what do you call the saddles and the bridles and things? Not harness . ..”

”Tack?” suggested Timothy.

”Thank you, yes, that's it. He was also the vet-the doctor for the horses. So you can imagine what it has been like, with so many of the animals damaged with the panic on the night of the fire, and my father with so much to attend to. He had no time for the horses, and Rudi, that's the chief groom, broke his arm getting the horses out. ... So I've had to do it, and Lee has helped me. Of course some of the artistes have helped also, but they have to practice for themselves every day. ... It has not been easy.”

”I'll say,” said Mr. Elliott with feeling. ”Who was it said that h.e.l.l was a paradise of horses?”

”n.o.body,” I said dryly. ”They said England was a paradise for horses and a h.e.l.l for women.”

”Is it?” asked Annalisa, interested.

”It has its moments. Go on, Mr. Elliott. Are we to understand that you've been grooming twenty-seven horses for a week?” For the life of me I couldn't help glancing at his clothes.

He saw it and grinned. ”I have indeed. I have ministered, you might say, to every detail of their toilet. The grooming's the easiest part, once you've discovered that the hair grows from bow to stern, and you have to brush that way; from the bite to the kick, you might say. The extraordinary thing is, they like it. At least, one gathers they do most of the time. I've only been bitten once.”

”You poor thing,” I said. ”And I believe ponies are worse.”

”A Hungarian gentleman did them. He has the advantage of only being three feet high himself. Oh, it's been a most instructive week, I shall be sorry to leave.”

Annalisa said: ”I wish you would not leave. We shall not know what to do without you.”

”I must say it'll be a bit deadly to go back to the old routine,” said Mr. Elliott. He glanced at his watch.

”Annalisa, I hate to break the party up, but I really think we should be going. All those beautiful horses to get ready for the show.”

”Goodness, yes!” She got to her feet. The waitress appeared at Timothy's elbow as we all followed suit, and there was the inevitable polite wrangle between Timothy and Lee Elliott over the bill. Timothy-I would have backed him anywhere by now-won easily.

”Well, thanks very much,” said Mr. Elliott.

”It's been lovely to meet you,” said Annalisa, ”and we shall see you later? When the show is finished, just ask anybody, they will tell you where to come.” She laughed unaffectedly. ”I shall feel like a prima donna with visitors coming to ask for me after the show. I hope you enjoy it. Kommst Du, Lee?”

They went. We sat down. I said: ”I thought you'd have wanted to go and help.”

”I thought I'd better stay with you,” said Timothy. He looked at me. ”Do you feel all right? You look awfully funny.”

”Funny? How d'you mean?”

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