us before he could hope to find her, but what would be the use? I did not look into his face, lest his honest expression of sorrow and determination cause me to lose all control. I feared I would blurt out my conviction that he could never find her, for it was only Mama, Rose and I who had been able to see the true nature of the park, although that seeing had done none of us any good. So instead of speaking, I wept and let Silk comfort me.
He stayed three more weeks, seeking Rose. When this produced no result, he offered a substantial reward for information about her disappearance. But once the fakes and liars and the mistaken sightings were weeded out, there was still nothing, and finally Silk agreed to let the solicitor arrange a memorial service for Rose and invest the inheritance that Mama had set aside for her. Silk came to me and held my hands, telling me gently and gravely that he would be a fool if he spent his life searching for a dream. He must accept the facts, however they pained him, and it would be best if I could do the same.
He went abroad again, and I stayed and tended my grief and my stepfather.
You would never have guessed to look at Ernst that something was broken inside him. Outwardly he was the same, spare and handsome, though now there was a little frosting of grey at his temples. He retained his gentleness and maintained his cultured habits after the accepted period of mourning, attending the ballet and plays and accepting invitations to various engagements, but they were empty gestures. He and I had both grieved and come to accept the death of my mother, but the loss of Rose was a wound that would not heal in either of us. My stepfather saw nothing else, and eventually that inner wound slowly turned him blind, so that I was forced to lead him hither and thither through life, making sure he did what a man was supposed to do: brush his hair and teeth, wash his face and tie his laces . . . If I did not, he would have stumbled out of his front door half undone.
Reynaldo, who had all but taken control of the household with the aid of the solicitor, began to speak of an institution, claiming that the reputation of our business must not be compromised. With no interest in higher education, Reynaldo was busy making alliances and had developed an interest in banking, which was rigid and conservative enough to suit his nature. He was contemptuous of what he perceived as weakness in Ernst and had begun to listen to the solicitor’s suggestions that a smaller apartment would suit us better, freeing up money for investment. It is true that my poor stepfather had lost his grip on life, but I loved him and I did not wish to lose my companion in sorrow.
I wrote a letter to Silk, asking him to ensure that Reynaldo did not allow the solicitor to put our stepfather into an institution or sell the apartment. I explained that I could not bear to leave it, for although I knew it to be utterly irrational, I could not shake the idea that Rose might one day return, and should there not be someone who loved her waiting to greet her? Was not the greatest proof of love fidelity, even against all rationality? It was unfortunate, I added pragmatically, afraid that Silk might think me romantic and hysterical, that both I and my stepfather were currently reliant upon the solicitor and Reynaldo, but I would gain control of my own fortune when I was twenty and then I would buy the apartment and take upon myself the expense of caring for our stepfather. I added that it was a pity Mama had put control of her estate into the hands of my stepfather’s solicitor, for he was not a man to let me have a penny of it a day earlier than he must.
I wrote the letter sitting at the little desk by the window seat in my room. I had chosen that room for the window seat, which had a cosy, secretive feel that had enchanted me, especially when the curtains were drawn. And of course, it had the best view of the park.
3.
Our apartment was in a many-winged building three storeys high and covering an entire town block that