My Many Years by Arthur Rubinstein

Author:Arthur Rubinstein [Rubinstein, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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The Christmas and New Year festivities were approaching. I made plans to spend the réveillon with the Achards and New Year's Eve with the Bourdets, who were going to take me to different parties that night. After Christmas Eve I received a picture postcard from Zakopane. It read: "Why not spend the St. Sylvestre here with us? We have snow, ice, a good drop of wine, and dancing in store for you—Nela." This card with its not too engaging temptations changed my plans. I found false excuses to get out of the Bourdet parties and sent François to buy railway tickets and sleeping accommodations for Cracow, where I had to change trains for Zakopane. I arrived on December 30 in the afternoon and found Nela waiting for me at the station.

She took me to a charming villa, "I reserved a room for you," she said, "in this pension de famille. My cousin Irka manages it. My sister Alina is here too. The food is simple but quite good, so I hope you will like it." Of course I liked to be in the same place as Nela.

At dinnertime I was duly introduced to everybody; there were three or four other guests in the villa and I liked both the dinner and the company. Nela's beautiful sister treated me rather indifferently but her cousin Irka received me with a charming show of hospitality. After dinner I took Nela to the Morskie Oko, as her card had insinuated that she would like a drop or two, and there I ordered a bottle of champagne to be put into an ice bucket. While the waiter was filling our glasses, Nela suddenly declared, "I don't drink champagne." This vexed me a little. She might have said it earlier. Somewhat resentfully, I managed to finish the bottle by myself while we were talking. It took three hours, however. Our long talk brought back to us our first awareness of our love; we felt happy to be starting again from the beginning. On that blessed night we forgot everything which had happened since that beautiful first moment.

The next morning, New Year's Eve, at breakfast, Nela appeared in her skiing outfit and declared cheerfully after our good-morning kiss, "I'm going on a skiing expedition with my friends and shall be back before dinnertime." And with that, she left. I fell into a stupor of rage. So she makes me come all the way from Paris, makes me abandon my friends, to sit and wait for her a whole day while she is off cavorting with friends on skis. Fortunately I have the happy gift of never being bored by myself. And so I spent the day in the excellent company of a book I brought from Paris. At luncheon there was another agreeable distraction; a very good-looking lady with beautiful dark hair appeared and, as I found out later, had the room next to mine. She seemed to be impressed to see me there because all through the meal she stared at me.

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