Chapter Eight
After dinner, the Steinherrs retired to the drawing room for post-prandial drinks and jollity. The mansion was unusual in Kristalldorf in that it was made from stone and marble rather than the usual wooden structures around the town. This gave it a slight fairy-tale look.
From any of the mansion’s many balconies you could see the stunning peak of the Silberschnee, and on the other side of the river, the Anna Maria hotel, glimmering in glass.
Over the decades, Walter had been furnished with lucrative offers to buy the land he owned on the opposite side of the river: it was prime real estate, furthest from the train station in the quietest corner of the town. But Walter would never sell.
Nanny Iris had been instructed to put the children to bed, and the butler was preparing drinks for everyone.
Negronis for Walter and Lysander, Pernod on the rocks for Anastasia, a pineapple daiquiri for Kiki, and sparkling water for Dimitri, who always stopped at one glass of wine with dinner.
Vivian, who was planning on returning to the hotel after her father had turned in, drank a coffee.
The head maid entered with the large birthday cake Vivian had procured from the most elegant bakery in Kristalldorf, and she started a shy ensemble of ‘Happy birthday to you …’, which Lysander, Anastasia and Kiki made louder.
Kiki rubbed her husband’s back as he blew out a solitary candle, then kissed his balding head. He tried not to wince.
‘Happy birthday, baby,’ she beamed, as if she had arranged the whole shebang.
‘Goodness! All of my children here!’ Walter exclaimed. His children looked at each other nervously. ‘Almost all of my children,’ he corrected himself.
‘Does anyone know where Caspian is?’ Anastasia asked.
‘I had a message from him, from Portugal, a few weeks ago,’ Lysander said, but neither sister asked much more. Vivian was internally horrified that Caspian hadn’t been in touch with their father on his seventieth birthday.
‘Liezel, get the forks with the shells at the end,’ Kiki ordered quietly. ‘They’re much nicer.’
Much tackier more like, Anastasia thought.
She wished Kiki weren’t there. This was a rare moment three out of four of the siblings were in the same room with their father and she wanted to broach the issue of Seven Summits.
She didn’t want Kiki to be party to these family discussions, she didn’t want outsiders there, and although Dimitri was an outsider too, as legal counsel to the Steinherr business, he would need to be in on the conversations.
The maid returned with a new set of cake forks.
‘These ones, ma’am?’ she quietly asked.
‘No!’ Kiki scoffed. ‘Do I have to do everything myself?’ Kiki marched out to the kitchens, the maid chasing her hurriedly.
Anastasia saw her opportunity.
‘Papa, look, while we’re all here … I’ve been thinking.’
Lysander turned around, negroni in hand, interest piqued.
Vivian sipped her coffee from a Louis XIV chair.
‘Seven Summits,’ she stated. ‘What’s your plan for them, because I have some amazing ideas –’
‘No business tonight, Anni!’ Walter held up a hand.
Vivian looked at her sister, bewildered.
What did she want to do with Seven Summits?
She hadn’t shown much interest in the Anna Maria since their father gifted it to them, so why go for Seven Summits?
At least ask about managing the Silberblick, given she seemed to spend more time having secret meetings in room 204 of that hotel than she did at the Anna Maria.
Anastasia obviously felt more than comfortable in the Silberblick.
‘Let me enjoy my birthday, dammit,’ Walter said with a half chuckle, but it had enough bite to shut his daughter down.
Anastasia swirled the ice cubes in her Pernod, looked into the fireplace, and wanted to scream.