`Kurt goes off to his work every morning at half past eight. Trudi will bring you up your breakfast as soon as he has gone. I don't usually get up till ten o'clock or later; so perhaps when you've had your bath you would like to come and keep me company?'
Her smile made the implications of this invitation quite unmistakable, and Gregory knew that, although he had found sanctuary, he had come to the edge of a precipice.
17
A Nation in the Polls
GREGORY made no immediate reply. The thin laughter lines on either side of his mouth deepened in the suggestion of a smile. Yet, had Sabine known it, this half-smile was not one of pleasurable anticipation; it was caused by a quirk of cynical humour at a thought that had suddenly flashed into his mind.
He was thinking again of the cockroach and the armpit of the tortoise. To escape from that devouring beast the Gestapo by jumping into the bed of one of the loveliest ladies in Berlin surely transcended any other possible way of emulating that life-saving feat. It could happen only to one dearly beloved by the gods.
She had no need to remind him of the sensual delights her slim white body had to offer. During the last half-hour her full red lips, big liquid eyes, shining hair, the scent she used, her every movement, had brought back to him a score of memories of their nights together in Budapest and on the Danube.
Yet in the story the cockroach had been compared to an early Christian set before a lion. And in a sense that, too, applied. Early Christians had made a fetish of chastity and out of love for Erika he had sworn to himself that while away from her he would remain chaste.
Since getting away from Poland he had several times concentrated hard on trying to let her know by thought transference that he had not been captured and was uninjured; and twice he had felt a response which led him to believe that she was praying for his safety. That she should, by astral means, pick up the knowledge that he was again with Sabine did not seem remotely possible. But she might well get the feeling that he was lying in the embrace of some other woman, and that would make her acutely miserable. Damnably alluring as Sabine was, he knew that he would be guilty of true evil if he risked adding such thoughts to the intense distress that must be afflicting Erika on his account.
As he sought desperately for a way to evade the issue, Sabine said sharply, `You're looking very glum all of a sudden. Is it that you no longer find me attractive, or have you become impotent?'
Her last words suddenly brought inspiration to him. Looking down, he sadly shook his head and asked, `Have you not noticed my limp?
'Well, yes,' she admitted. `It did strike me that you were limping a little as we crossed the lawn. I thought that maybe you'd just hurt your foot.'
With a heavy sigh he lifted his left leg and showed her the extra half-inch of leather on the sole of his shoe. Then he said, ` Berlin 's not the only place that has air-raids. We have them in London, too. About six months ago when I was in Brixton Prison a bomb fell on it. My left leg was shattered and I was lucky to escape with my life. On my hip and thigh there are the most ghastly wounds. But they are healed now, so that's not the worst of it. A piece of flying debris struck me between the legs and carried away the most precious half-inch of flesh a man has on his body.'
`Oh, you poor darling!' she cried, putting her arms round his neck. `How absolutely frightful for you! What an awful thing to happen. Then you'll never… never be able to make love again?'
In the past they had always bathed together. Suddenly it struck him that as he was to use her bathroom she might quite possibly walk in on him next morning and, seeing him naked, realize that in spite of his scarred leg he had lied to her. Swiftly he hedged and said
`No. Thank God, it's not as bad as that. The surgeons did a wonderful job of grafting and at least I benefited by being for four months in the prison hospital instead of in a cell; though the pain of the dressings was ghastly. You'd hardly notice anything, but before I left England my doctor said that my only chance of not destroying the good job they've done is to continue to count myself out of court for some time to come. Anyhow, for another month or two. For this to have happened and then for me to find you again is the shabbiest trick the Devil has ever played me. But there it is, my sweet; I'm no good to you.'
`Oh dear, what a tragic disappointment,' she said unhappily. `And from the moment you popped up from behind my hammock my mind's been full of all the lovely games we used to play. Still, it's much worse for you and we must just try not to think about it.' Kissing him lightly, she added, `Let's go upstairs again and get your room ready.'
Together they made up the bed and Sabine dug out for him a flowered silk dressing gown, pyjamas and other things that Ribbentrop had kept there for his visits. Then they went down to select cold food from the larder for his supper. Gregory was surprised to see half a game pie, a salmon trout, the remains of a ham, an Apfelstrudel, a block of Gruyere cheese and a variety of fresh fruit, as well as white rolls, a dozen eggs and a big slab of butter.
`By Jove!' he laughed. `In spite of rationing you manage to do yourself jolly well. In London we now get only two eggs a month, a scrape of butter, a few rashers of bacon and a chop a week to eke out things like soya-bean sausage and the sort of fish one used to give the cat.'
'Really!' She looked at him in astonishment. `Surely you have a Black Market?
'We have. But only spies and shysters use it. All patriotic citizens who are determined to win the war refuse to encourage that sort of thing.'
She shrugged. `It's different here. You can still get pretty well anything you want if you've the money to pay for it, and everyone's so utterly sick of the war that they don't feel patriotic any longer. Most of us fear we haven't long to live, so to hell with rationing. Help yourself to as much as you want, but don't take the salmon trout. Kurt had it sent to him by a friend, and if part of it's gone he'll ask questions.'
While Gregory filled a tray high with good things she went down to the cellar and brought up for him a bottle of hock.
261
A NATION IN THE TOILS 261
By then nearly two hours had gone since his arrival at the villa, and when she had helped him carry the things upstairs she said, `It's close on six o'clock and Kurt will be back soon; so I must leave you.'.
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her. Then, as her full soft lips melted into his, he drew away and said, `Although I'm on the run I wouldn't have missed today for anything. How I wish… but there it is, my sweet. A million, million thanks. See you in the morning.'
As soon as she had left him he felt suddenly overwhelmed with tiredness. It was now Tuesday evening and since waking in Bari the previous Sunday morning he had had barely twelve hours’ sleep, and none of that with his clothes off. Undressing slowly, he got into bed, and only hunger impelled him to eat his excellent supper. When he had done he put the tray aside, thought for a moment of his luck in having found Sabine and her generosity in taking a considerable risk to hide him; then instantly fell asleep.
When he roused next morning a grey daylight was filtering into the room, so he turned over and dozed again until there was a soft knock on the door. On his calling `Herein', Trudi appeared with his breakfast.