It was 19:10 and Kurt was late as usual. She paced the room, fretful that they were keeping their commanding officer waiting. Kurt eventually strolled in at 19:15 and gestured to Gabi to hurry up; Hans and Eva were waiting outside in the car.
“What took you so long?” Hans asked as they climbed into the vehicle. “I thought my watch must be fast.”
“Ah, women, they can never tell the time,” Kurt said.
Suppressing a protest, Gabi gritted her teeth; she shouldn’t start the evening on a sour note. Her mood had mellowed, and she was looking forward to a night away from the base.
Eva gave Gabi a passing glance before turning her attention to Kurt. “Good evening, Herr Dorfmann. Handsome as ever,” she teased.
“Takes one to know one,” Kurt said.
Gabi winced. This was going to be a painfully long night.
“How are you, Gabi?” Hans glanced in his rear-view mirror and their eyes locked. He grinned at her, and she felt her mood lift higher still.
“I’m fine. Where are we going?”
“I’ve made reservations at Der Innenhof—it’s Eva’s favourite restaurant in Cologne.”
Gabi’s face fell. They would be dining at a formal establishment where the fashionable went to be seen and unlike Hans and Kurt, she had not worn her uniform and was dressed neither formally nor fashionably, although she had made an effort to present herself as best she could, wearing her only dress and a bulky over-coat that at least matched in colour, if not in fit. On her feet, she wore flat boots, a major fashion faux-pas that complimented her unfashionable ponytail, worn loose to conceal the scar on her forehead. Thankfully, neither Eva nor Kurt passed comment regarding her attire—a small blessing that Gabi knew would be short-lived.
Hans dropped them at the front door while he parked the car nearby. The party of three made their way inside and although the restaurant was busy, the maitre d’ recognised Eva immediately.
“Ah, Fraulein Schmidt, always a delight to have you dine with us. Is Lieutenant Philipp joining you?”
“Of course, Willy. He will be here shortly.”
The maitre d’ escorted the group to a well-positioned table in the centre of the room. “Your table as usual,” he announced.
Eva sneered graciously. “Thank you so much, Willy. You’re such a dear. I don’t know how this place would run without you.”
Gabi screwed her face and rolled her eyes. Kurt kicked her under the table and scowled. She shrugged and began fidgeting with her napkin. Kurt watched as Gabi folded the stiff cloth over and over until she could fold it no more.
“Did you know that you can only fold a napkin in half six times at most?” he said.
Before Gabi had a chance to prove him wrong, Hans joined them, immediately requesting the wine list and ordering a bottle of champagne. They toasted to victory for the Fatherland and settled into small-talk.
“So, Kurt, do you like my new hairstyle?” Eva asked, fishing for attention and the usual compliments that followed.
Her hair was rolled up on either side, her fringe teased high in a curl, a ball of large loose coils nestled at the nape of her neck, a gentle wave softening the overall effect. Gabi thought she looked like a cocker spaniel.
“Very much. It suits you—very glamorous.”
A devious grin settled on Eva’s mouth. “Tell me, Gabi, have you ever had your hair styled?”
And with that one, seemingly innocent question, Gabi knew that the games had begun.
“No, I’ve never had my hair styled—or cut, for that matter.”
“Never had it cut. Why not?” Eva said, her tone exaggerated as one would expect from an actress.
“I promised my father that I wouldn’t cut it. He likes it long.”
“Good Lord, dear. All fathers want their little girls to stay little girls. Sooner or later, you’ll have to look like a woman if you want to catch yourself a man.”
Stunned, Gabi’s mind went blank, her face turning beet red to match the lipstick that glistened on Eva’s wicked mouth. How could she be so malicious? Gabi stared down at the crisp white linen tablecloth while a lump the size of an acorn grew in her throat.
Sensing Gabi’s vulnerability, Eva continued, “You know, if you have your hair cut into a fringe, you might be able to hide that ugly scar of yours.”
“I don’t know,” Kurt said. “I’d leave your hair alone. I actually think your scar’s a real turn on.”
Gabi turned to Hans and saw only pity in his eyes. She turned to Kurt, whose blank expression left her defenceless. She had been wounded and no one would help her.
“I have to go…” she mumbled and promptly scurried out of the restaurant.
Hans threw his napkin onto the table. “What is it with the both of you? Can’t you ever be nice to her?” He stood to go after Gabi, but Kurt held him back.
“You stay here with Eva. I’ll go.” Kurt dashed for the exit, grabbing Gabi’s overcoat on the way out.
A frigid aura descended over the table. Hans and Eva watched as the waiter cleared the spare place settings and return them to the sideboard, and when he was no longer within earshot, Hans took aim and fired.
“You can be a real bitch.”
“Of course, you would take her side,” Eva spat back.
Hans leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “It’s not about taking sides. You were well out of line and what has Gabi ever done to you anyway? All you do is belittle her and try to make her feel bad.”
“Well, if I’m such a bad person, what are you doing with me?”
“Good question.”
Eva’s eyes widened. “Hans, darling, let’s not fight over this.” She placed her hand over his for reassurance.
“You’re right. There’s no point fighting.” He withdrew his hand and stood. “It’s over.”
Eva’s glare could have ended the war there and then if she had been facing the enemy.
Meanwhile, Gabi trotted down the road at a fast pace, trailed by Kurt and her overcoat.
“Wait up, Gabi. I’ve got your coat. Where are you going?”
“Back to the base,” she hollered over her shoulder.
“What! Walking? It’s getting cold, and it’ll take hours.”
“Then it’s going to be a long, cold walk.”
Kurt scampered behind Gabi and flung the coat over her shoulders.
She caught the coat before it fell to the ground and pulled it on. “Thanks.”
They walked side-by-side, Kurt slowing his pace to match hers. Step by step, breath for breath, they trudged in silence until Kurt finally spoke his thoughts.
“You know, she’s jealous of you.”
It was met with a sideways glance. “Jealous of what? She’s the movie star.”
“Hollywood’s full of movie stars, but you’re the only female Jagdflieger in Germany.”
Gabi’s scowl dissolved; sometimes Kurt could be so sweet. She nudged him with her elbow and his face widened and dimpled on one cheek.
They talked for hours, Kurt reminiscing about fun times when he and Heinz were growing up as boys, Gabi laughing along as they made their way back to the base. By the time they arrived, it was after midnight and both Kurt and Gabi were weary but at peace with the world.
He walked Gabi to her quarters and stood at the open door like he was waiting for something to happen. She entered her faintly lit room, Kurt still standing in the doorway expectantly.
He whispered into the room. “You know, I meant what I said about your scar.”
A shadow reached out, gently drawing him into the dimness. He surrendered to the shadow with a kiss, moving to the bed and the softness of its covers, nudging a sleepy Pinke from her cosy nest and laying across the warmth that the little dog had left behind.