Balint saw something of this unscrupulous settling of old scores when he went to Lelbanya. There someone had slandered the honest notary Daniel Kovacs who had served the little town so long and so unselfishly and who had been so helpful with the starting of Abady’s altruistic schemes for the co-operative and cultural centre. It took him a week of hard work in Kovacs’s defence before the matter was settled and he could return to the capital.
In Budapest Balint attended the sitting of Parliament though he was in a depressed mood and found it difficult, however hard he tried, to work up much interest in the proceedings. He also tried to get on with the book he had started in Portofino, but inspiration was lacking. It was as if the spring that had spurred him on had broken when he had to give up Adrienne. ‘Beauty in Action’ had been his theme and now, though he tried hard to convince himself that there was beauty in his renunciation of her, perhaps even heroism, he could not rid himself of the disconcerting thought that maybe after all he might subconsciously have been acting from caution, from a desire to escape his responsibilities. Surely it could not be that. Adrienne had written those agonized and agonizing words ‘Don’t kill me … I beseech you … don’t kill me…!’ What could he have done but obey?
When Isti Kamuthy was finally elected, second time round, he came to the capital to take his seat. One of the first people he saw in Budapest was Balint, and he at once told him how he had travelled in the same train as the Miloths, for old Rattle was going to Baden where his wife now was, while Adrienne and her sisters were going to stay at the Lido in Venice in two days’ time.
‘I expect you know that Judith ith a little touched in the head,’ he lisped. ‘They didn’t thay a word on the whole trip, though I did my betht to make agreeable converthathon!’
Balint did not reply, but turned on his heel and walked away. He did not want to hear any more; he did not want to discover, even by chance, where they were staying. He had promised himself that he would not see Adrienne again and if he knew where she was it would not be easy to keep that promise; so he decided that for the next few days he would not eat out except in the Casino club dining-room.
That very evening his resolve was broken.
In the centre of town it was stiflingly hot, unbearably so. Accordingly, Balint had himself driven out to the Wampetics Restaurant near the Zoological Gardens. After looking round he told himself that it was so full of people also trying to escape the heat that there would be no point in staying there. He walked across the road and into the City Park. Here, at the Lake Restaurant, it was just the same: throngs of people and the only table free was so near the band that he would be deafened. He decided it would be better to go to Gerbeaud, for though it was much more expensive it was sure to be less crowded …
He saw them as soon as he came in. There, sitting on the left, was the whole Miloth family group. Luckily Rattle and Judith were sitting with their backs to him and could not see him.
It looked as if Margit had not noticed his arrival either. Even Adrienne, though she was facing him, had not looked in his direction and so was unaware of his presence. She was talking to Isti Kamuthy and Joska Kendy and she looked unnaturally pale. Balint decided to place himself so far away from them that they would be unlikely to see him, and also so that, if by chance they did, there would be so many tables between him and them that he could either wave a greeting from a distance or else pretend that he was so pre-occupied with his own affairs that he had not noticed they were there.
He sat down near the lattice-work screen that divided the restaurant from the garden. In the distance he could just see Adrienne’s wide-brimmed Florentine straw hat under which her hair seemed even more raven-hued than ever. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of her lips as she conversed with her companions, and once or twice he saw her whole face; but when a fat man sitting near Abady leant forward to shovel more food into his mouth, then Adrienne was once again hidden from view. It was enough, however, to know that she was there even though separated from him by table after table of total strangers. He felt a sort of misterious warmth creep over him.
All at once the crowd in the restaurant started to thin out and Balint’s fat neighbour got up and left. Now he could see Addy unimpeded, and now, too, something sang in his heart: Adrienne was looking straight at him, her gaze fixed as if she were trying to say something to him from afar. Her lips moved. After a little while the Miloth party rose and started to move away along the central pathway between the crowded tables. Rattle led the way followed by the two younger girls, Kamuthy and Joska. Adrienne lingered behind the others, apparently engaged in pulling on her gloves. She paused, and as she did so she turned towards Balint, summoning him to come to her.
In an instant he was at her side.
‘Tomorrow. Room 23 … the King Istvan Hotel … four o’clock.’ It was an order issued so quickly that he barely heard it, her voice barely more than a whisper, feverish and desperate. It was hardly out of her mouth before she had turned and rejoined the others. Balint returned to his own table, his heart racing so hard he thought it would pound its way out of his chest.
Abady found his way to the little old-fashioned hotel where only people from the country stayed, and promptly at four o’clock he knocked on her door and went in.
Addy came forward to meet him, her expression unusually solemn and serious. She did not let him put his arms round her or kiss her cheek but pushed him away with a single imperious finger. She did not even use the familiar form when addressing him. They sat down in two chairs near the window.
‘I wanted to see you for just a moment. We haven’t got long. The girls have gone shopping with Mlle Morin and they’ll be back soon. Did you know? We are going to Venice. We are all very worried about Judith. Since … well, you know all about that. Since then she’s been like someone in a trance, like a sleepwalker. And sometimes she gets so muddled, not often and luckily only those who know her well seem to notice. The doctors told us to try a change of scene, to get her away from all the places that remind her of what’s happened. My mother’s still away ill and Father cannot get away for long as there’s the whole place to run. That is why I am going with them. It wasn’t easy to arrange, I can tell you, but in the end I managed it!’
They were silent for a few minutes. Balint trembled with expectancy. He was sure that something else was coming, something that Adrienne had not yet allowed herself to say, but which was fully thought-out, definite and serious. When she spoke at last her voice was cool, with no trace of excitement.
‘We are planning to stay at least four weeks, possibly five. At Almasko they have agreed to that …’ Adrienne’s onyx-coloured eyes opened very wide. She looked straight into Balint’s face and very slowly she said: ‘So we have one month. That’s all, one month, a whole month … if you would care to join me …?’
‘Addy! My darling Addy!’
Even now she did not allow him to come any closer to her.
‘Not now! No! Later, in Venice. We’ll have four weeks together. It’s not much, I know, but four whole weeks … and after that — well, after that it’s over!’