I felt quite all right — just tired and very stiff. I went downstairs and phoned Emilio at the bottom of the slittovia. He told me that the sleigh could make it at the moment, but that if the wind rose and the snow began to drift, it would not be possible. I then phoned the Splendido and left a message for Engles that if he could get through to Tre Croci, the slittovia would be able to bring him up to Col da Varda. Then I told Aldo to prepare the remaining room.
I suppose I should now switch straight to Engles' arrival at Col da Varda, for nothing happened until after he had arrived. But, since everything hinged on that event, I must give some account of the strange air of expectancy that pervaded the bar room that morning.
In the case of Joe and myself it was understandable. Joe was mentally preparing himself for a verbal clash with his director. 'Engles will be full of ideas, damn his eyes,' he grumbled to me. 'But a film's got to have a focal point, and the focal point, as I see it, is this hut and the slittovia. It's a terrific setting. Look at it this morning! Another few hours and we'll be snowbound up here. What a situation for, say, a group of people who hate each other, or whose interests clash!' This was said to me at breakfast, and the others listened to his words with peculiar attention. 'And the slittovia,' he added. 'I've got some fine shots of it. Rig up a dummy sleigh and have it hurtle down with the cable broken. And a ski chase — I've got a wonderful shot of you, Neil, as you came down that pass and collapsed at our feet. If Engles doesn't agree with me — damn it, I'll resign.'
Joe was strung up and marshalling his points. And for myself, I must admit to a sense of excitement. After all that had happened, I felt certain Engles must tell me why he had sent me out here.
But the others — why were they so silent? Mayne had greeted me cheerfully enough when he came in to breakfast. He asked me how I felt with the quiet solicitude of a friend who was glad to see me none the worse for an unfortunate mishap. He was charming and natural, but quieter than usual. Anna's big eyes smiled at him unanswered as she laid the table. And when Joe came down and began to talk of Engles' arrival, he fell strangely silent.
And Valdini, who could have talked out any bill had he been an American senator, said hardly a word. Joe noticed it and said, 'What's on your mind, Valdini? In trouble with that contessa of yours?'
'Always you make the fun of me, Wesson, eh?' snarled the little Sicilian.
'Well, you looked damned worried when she phoned you last night,' Joe replied.
'When was that?' I asked.
'Oh, after you'd finally gone to bed,' Joe answered.
So she had phoned him after Engles had spoken to me. I would have given much to have known what she had said. That it concerned Engles I had no doubt.
And Keramikos. He was always quiet and reserved. But this morning he appeared not so much reserved as watchful. He regarded the breakfast-table with amused detachment. And yet there was a trace of nervousness in his manner. It seems quite natural for him to have been nervous now that I know the whole story. But at the time it was strange, because he always had such an air of confidence.
After breakfast everyone huddled round the stove. And that was strange, too, because normally they all drifted off to their rooms.
Joe talked to me for a time about the film. He wanted my support. He tried to get me to give him a synopsis of the script I was supposed to have planned. Was I using the hut and the slittovia? What snow scenes had I planned? And when he found me uncommunicative, he too fell silent. Finally he confirmed my feeling that the atmosphere was tense. 'Seems this snow has the same effect on people as the mistral or the sirocco. How long is it likely to last, Mayne?'
'A day or two maybe,' Mayne replied.
'My God!' Joe said. 'Are we going to sit as glum as owls round this stove for several days? For the love of God, Mayne, get on that piano and hammer out something cheerful. Can't say I usually like the row you kick up in the mornings. But anything is better than the five of us brooding over this monstrosity of a stove.'
But Mayne said he did not feel in the mood. And nobody supported Joe in his demand for music. In the end, he went and got a book. But even with one of his inevitable Westerns, his mind did not seem able to settle down. Valdini sat picking his teeth with a match. Mayne and Keramikos seemed lost in thought.
So we waited. And at last, about ten-thirty, the drone of the cable told us that the sleigh was coming up. Nobody moved. But the atmosphere quickened to interest. I got up and went over to the window that looked out on to the sleigh track. 'Who's coming up — your director?' Mayne asked.
'Can't see yet,' I told him. Visibility was very poor.
The sleigh track lost itself in the grey murk of falling snow.
Mayne came over and stood beside me. The cable jerked clear of the snow. And then, like a ghost ship, the sleigh emerged from the snow. 'Looks as though there are two passengers on it,' he said. 'Who else would want to come up on a day like this?' He swung round. 'Do you know who the other passenger is, Valdini?'
The little man looked up from the contemplation of his fingernails. He was dressed in a suit of sky blue with a dark-blue shirt and a crimson tie. He looked like the leader of a hot rhythm outfit. His rubber face grinned. But the grin did not extend to the eyes, which were watchful and narrowed. He sucked at his teeth. 'It is possible,' he said.
The sleigh was nearing the top now. It was thick with snow. I recognised the two passengers seated behind Emilio — they were Engles and the Contessa.
The sleigh stopped at the little wooden platform, which was almost under the window. Engles looked up, saw me and nodded a brief greeting. Mayne took a quick breath and then walked casually back to the stove. Carla was talking gaily to Engles as they got their skis off the rack on the sleigh. Anna went out and took Engles' two suitcases.
I turned back into the room. The others were seated exactly as they had been before. Nobody spoke. The ticking of the cuckoo clock was quite loud. I went over to the bar and got out a bottle of cognac and some glasses. There was a clatter of skis being placed against the wooden walls of the hut. Then the door opened and the Contessa came in, followed by Engles. Joe got up and said, 'Hallo, Engles. Glad to see you. Had a good trip?' That was the only movement from the group by the stove. Mayne and Keramikos were watching Engles, and Valdini was watching the Contessa.
Joe sensed the silence and tried to talk it down. 'Here, I'll put your coat on the table. Need a drink, I expect, old man. Ah, I see Neil has already had the same idea. Well, better introduce you since you're staving here. We're all present. Can't get out in this damned snow.'
Engles nodded briefly at the group by the stove as Joe introduced him. Then he said, 'Come and have a drink, Joe. I want to hear what sort of shots you've got for me. You need a drink, too, Carla. What are you having?'
She removed her heavy fur-lined jacket. She was dressed in her scarlet ski-suit. It was a pleasant splash of colour in that drab room. 'I' would like a Strega, please, Derek.' And she took his arm as though he were the one man in the world.
Engles gave me a quick, secret smile. I poured the drinks. Joe began talking about his focal point. Engles was only half-listening. His attention kept wandering to a battered mirror that hung on the wall at the end of the bar. At first I thought he was checking up on his appearance. He was always meticulous about his toilet when women were around. But then I realised that he could not possibly see himself in it. What he could see was the little group by the fire.