She hurried away from the table without looking back.
‘The melodramas of youth,’ Katharine remarked dryly. ‘Extraordinary.’
Stravinsky pushed away the congealing bowl of stew, which he had barely touched. ‘You don’t believe this tale?’
‘I find it, as I say, theatrical.’
‘You don’t think I should follow it up?’
‘I think you should go to bed. You look exhausted. Don’t get involved in these histrionics.’
Stravinsky turned to Thomas. ‘And what do you think, Thomas?’
Thomas was staring after Rachel. ‘It’s true that her friend came to our table, but couldn’t speak. The two of them usually sit over there.’ He turned and pointed to an empty table across the room.
‘Ah. You’ve noticed them. Why? Because they are pretty?’
‘I notice everyone,’ Thomas said, the sharp ridges of his cheekbones colouring.
‘You hear this?’ Stravinsky said to Katharine. ‘Two sparrows are sold for a farthing, but one does not fall without Thomas noticing.’
‘You’re not thinking of going to these young women? It is certain to be a trap of some kind.’
‘I’m not so much afraid of that,’ he replied, dabbing his pendulous lips with his napkin and pushing away from the table, ‘but I don’t think I can be of any use in their present predicament. You are right, chérie. Let’s go to our beds.’
Rachel heard the tap at the door, and hurried to open it. She was bitterly disappointed to find that the caller was not Stravinsky, but the German boy who had been sitting beside him.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded curtly.
He was blushing hotly. ‘I have – I have—’
‘Did Stravinsky send you?’
He shook his head dumbly, staggering a little as the ship rolled.
‘Then why have you come sniffing around here?’
‘I have something to show the other Fräulein.’
‘You can have nothing to say that she would be interested in,’ Rachel retorted. She indicated the swastika on his jacket. ‘Take that hideous thing off.’
‘I made a promise to always wear it.’
‘To the Führer?’
‘To my mother.’
‘Your mother is a good Nazi, it seems.’
Masha came to peer over Rachel’s shoulder with swollen eyes. ‘Who is it? Oh, it’s Monsieur Stravinsky’s little friend. Why are you here?’
The boy, acutely shy, swallowed, the knot of his Adam’s apple jumping in his lean throat. ‘I would like – like to show you something.’
Masha glanced interrogatively at Rachel, who shook her head. ‘Well, I suppose you should come in, then.’
Rachel glared at Masha. ‘The boy is a Hitler spy. I don’t want him in our cabin.’
‘He is a child,’ Masha said wearily. ‘What harm can he do?’
‘You know what harm these people can do,’ Rachel retorted. But against her wishes, Masha admitted the boy.
‘What is it you want to show me?’ Masha asked.
‘Here.’ He took something from under his arm.
Masha looked at it blearily. ‘A book is always a good thing. First, what’s your name?’
‘Thomas König.’
Masha patted the space beside her on the bunk, where her suitcase lay open. ‘Then come and sit with me, Thomas König, and show me your book.’
The boy opened the book eagerly on his lap. ‘It’s about the World’s Fair in New York. I’m— I’m going there.’
‘You must be very excited, Thomas König.’
‘Oh, yes!’ He showed her the photographs, some of which were in colour. ‘This is the Trylon, and this is the Perisphere. The Perisphere is eighteen storeys tall and 628 feet in circumference. The Trylon is sixty storeys tall. You can see them from five miles distant.’
Rachel was on the point of pushing the youth out, with his cropped head and his proudly displayed swastika. But Masha, for some reason, was willing to indulge him. ‘That is very tall.’
‘And look, this is the Court of Power. It’s joined on to the Plaza of Light. These are the fountains which play music and are lit in colours at night. And here is the Singing Tower of Light.’ He bent his narrow head over the photograph. ‘It says “Westinghouse”. That’s an American electrical company. They have a display of all the ways electricity can be used.’
‘Including to extract confessions?’ Rachel asked.
Masha laid a finger on her lips to silence her cousin. ‘What else?’
He turned to a page he had marked. ‘This is the General Electric Pavilion. Do you see this apparatus? It creates a lightning bolt of ten million volts. The onlookers are blinded and deafened.’
‘Isn’t that frightening for them?’ Masha asked gently.
‘Yes, but I will go there nevertheless. I’m not afraid.’
‘You are very brave.’
‘There are a lot of statues of naked people. Both men and women. But you don’t have to look at them if you don’t want to. And all the film stars are there. Johnny Weissmuller comes every day. He is Tarzan, you know. His name is German, but he is Hungarian.’
‘So much the worse for him,’ Rachel said dryly.
‘And Gertrude Ederle. She was the first woman to swim the English Channel. Her parents were Germans.’
‘Have you done?’ Rachel demanded.
The boy began to stammer again. ‘There are inventions of all kinds – and – and – there are robots and machines—’
Masha laid her hand on the book. ‘Tell me, Thomas, why do you want to show me these things?’
‘I invite you to come and see them with me, Fräulein.’
Masha uttered a little sound like a laugh. ‘How kind of you.’
‘I have two tickets.’ Carefully, he took the bright coupons out of the inside cover of the book. ‘This one is for a child and the other is for an adult. The adult one is for you. Look, they have the Trylon and the Perisphere printed on them. You see? And underneath it says “The World of Tomorrow, Admit One”. Take it.’
‘I will not be going to America, but thank you.’
‘Please,’ he said.
‘Thomas, this ticket surely belongs to a relative. An uncle, perhaps.’
‘No, it’s yours. I am giving it to you.’
‘What has got into your head?’ she asked wonderingly.
His ears were glowing red again, but he met her eyes. ‘If you get off the boat in Southampton, you will not be able to see the World’s Fair with me,’ he said. ‘And if you go back to Germany, they will kill you.’ There was a silence. The boy got up, all elbows and knees. Even his thighs were flushing now. ‘You may keep the book as long as you like. I’ve read it all.’ He presented it to her, and bowed formally. ‘You mustn’t lose the ticket, Fräulein, or you will have to buy another.’
He hurried to the door, and waited there with his face averted until Rachel, without a word, let him out.
When he reached his cabin, Thomas found Stravinsky lying on his bunk, half-undressed, with one arm flung over his eyes.
‘You have to do something,’ he said sharply.
Stravinsky peered at him with bleary eyes. ‘About what?’
‘About Fräulein Morgenstern.’
‘Is that where you have been? To her cabin?’
‘I gave her my ticket to the World’s Fair. But I don’t think she will use it.’
‘Thomas,’ Stravinsky said wearily, ‘didn’t you promise me that you would stay in character? That you wouldn’t betray yourself to anyone on board this ship?’
‘Yes,’ Thomas replied tersely.
‘Well, then? What good Nazi would bother himself with the fate of a Jewess?’
‘They will kill her there!’ the boy burst out. ‘Don’t you understand? You cannot be so cold!’
‘You remind me of my own children,’ Stravinsky replied ironically. ‘I feel quite paternal when you insult me. Are you in love with this female?’