The Silver Castle by Nancy Buckingham

seen his face change when he first learned who I was. And last night, the look in his eyes when he spoke to me.”
    “I admit that your presence here came as a shock to him,” she said. “But rest assured, my dear, Anton has no wish for you to quit this house.”
    “I know you are only meaning to be kind. Honestly, it is best that I leave now.”
    She regarded me with a sad expression. But it was something else that marred the serene composure of her face. She looked upset, almost afraid. I wondered what unbearable things Anton had said to her last night. And why, now, she was prepared to cross him still further by pressing me to stay on.
    “Will you say good-bye to Raimund for me?” I said briskly, to avoid any further argument. “You and he have been so good to me, so thoughtful. I realise that you wished to spare me from knowing the sordid details about my father’s death, but perhaps it would have been better if you’d told me straight away.”
    “I wish you need never have known,” she whispered, and I knew how true this was from the anguish in her voice.
    “I’ll go and finish my packing now,” I told her. “And when I get back to London I’ll think about the paintings and write to you about them. We’ll sort something out.” The thought struck me that lunch time might bring the two men home, and I added hastily, “I’ll leave before lunch, and have something to eat at the airport or on the plane.”
    She looked startled and deeply distressed. “Oh, Gail, why this indecent haste to depart? At least stay till later in the day.”
    I shook my head. “No, it is better that I don’t.”
    Sigrid had done her best to persuade me to change my mind, but I remained adamant. And now, for the last time, I wanted to look at the place that had been my father’s home. But even more, I hoped that I might see Willi. I felt a need, which I couldn’t really explain, to try and make him understand that I was his friend.
    Today, the hair I’d fixed as a telltale sign was broken. Excited, I pushed open the chalet door and saw at once that my drawing was gone from the easel. No one else came here, surely, so Willi must have found my message. Had he understood the implication of the two figures, a girl and a young boy, shaking hands and smiling at one another?
    I glanced around for some other evidence that he’d been here, but everything was still in the curiously precise order that had so surprised me that first day. Except ... in the centre of the bed lay a piece of wood, red-grained and rough-textured. I picked it up and saw that it had been crudely carved into the shape of a boat. I stared at it, pondering. Was this a message meant for me, a gift as a token of friendship returned? But why a boat, what was the significance?
    Lost in contemplation I’d hardly been aware of a car approaching, but now I heard the scrunch of tyres outside. I went quickly to the window. To my dismay, I saw Anton Kreuder getting out of his blue Mercedes. In that fleeting glimpse I saw that his brow was ridged, his face intently set. But as he opened the door and came in, he gave me a strained smile.
    “Hello, Gail. They told me you’d be here.”
    Unable to think of anything to say, I merely echoed one of his words. “They?”
    “Yes ... Karl and Ursula. They had noticed you coming up the lane from one of the upstairs windows.”
    “I ... I thought you were at the mill,” I faltered nervously.
    “I was. But Sigrid phoned me to come home.” His smile subtly changed, reproaching me now. “She told me you are planning to leave us. Why should you want to do that?”
    “You know why.”
    “But you mustn’t feel that you are ... in any way to blame for your father’s actions.”
    “I don’t,” I said. “But you seem to.”
    The frown returned,   tiny now, just between his eyes. “Such a point of view would be wholly unreasonable.”
    “Fairly natural, though. Emotional reactions don’t involve reason, do