They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [68]
Countess Uzdy’s villa stood a little to the right of the road. Its entrance was on the north side but the main façade looked over the valley to the south west. Like so many Italian houses built on a hillside it had been set in the centre of a large square stone terrace like an iced cake upon a tray, and from it steps led downwards to other terraces and gardens below but from the entrance all the visitor could see of this was the tops of the trees planted at a lower level.
It was only as Adrienne passed through the entrance gates that she realized how apprehensive she was. On her way to the house all she had thought was that this was a routine call and that it was her duty. It was her first visit to Meran and as she strolled up from the station she had been thinking only of how beautiful everything was. Now, as she stood on the threshold of her mother-in-law’s house, she was suddenly aware how much she dreaded meeting the old woman again. It was not simply that in a few moments she would once again be face to face with the person with whom, despite Countess Uzdy’s never concealed hatred of her, she had had to spend so many years in the same house; it was also that this confrontation would entail explaining why she had come and giving her news of Pal Uzdy and of her little grand-daughter. She would once again have to put up with the old woman’s icy stare and her probably offensive and unwelcoming remarks. Of course Maier had told her in several letters that nowadays the old woman sometimes did not utter a word for days on end, that she was usually listless and would sit quite still for hours without apparently noticing anything that went on around her; and that they even had to remind her to get up to go and wash, or take her meals, or go to bed. She had become, it seemed, little more than an automaton and had to be urged and encouraged to go through the ordinary motions of everyday life. Though Adrienne did not for a moment disbelieve any of this, she still wondered if it would be the same when they actually met or whether, at the sight of her, the old woman’s venomous nature would overcome her depression and bring her back to life.
And this was not the only thing that made Adrienne suddenly afraid: she wondered too if she herself could muster enough self-control to appear natural and friendly and to talk as lightly and calmly as if that old hatred had never existed. She was desperately worried lest all those years of resentment would rise up and betray her into anger.
As these troubling thoughts flashed through her mind, she turned to Maier and said, ‘I think it would be best to prepare her, and so, my good Maier, I should be grateful if you would go ahead and see her first. I will just stay here quietly for about a quarter of an hour. Then you can come and take me in. I’ll be sitting on that stone bench.’
The old man said nothing, either in agreement or contradiction, but just looked at Adrienne with understanding. Then he nodded and disappeared into the house. The door closed noiselessly behind him.
When Adrienne found herself alone she sat down in the shade on the stone bench by the door and waited deep in thought. However she only stayed there for a moment or two. Perhaps because it was cool in the shade she began to shiver slightly and so got up and walked round to the front of the house which was in full sun. She went very slowly, assailed by old and disturbing memories, memories that went right back to the first days of