We walked through the hotel lobby and into the crowded ballroom. Tables had been set in a horseshoe arrangement around a circular dance floor with a bar at the far end. The band was playing Cole Porter’s ‘Night and Day’ and I excitedly hummed along to it, looking at the people on the floor and comparing my dress to those of the other women. I thought mine looked as good as any of them. ‘Who’s giving this dance?’ I asked.
‘Not sure,’ said Charlie. ‘But I’m told that the senior officers of the SS will be here.’ He adjusted his bow tie and smoothed down the lapel of his hired dinner jacket. ‘Should be useful for background information and we can try and muscle in on some conversations because, sadly, we won’t know anyone.’
But that wasn’t entirely true. For there, in the centre of the room, surrounded by black-uniformed officers, was Xanthe.
Chapter Eight
‘OH MY GOD,’ I said, staring at Xanthe.
Charlie turned his head away from the dance floor, where he’d been tapping his foot in time to the band. ‘What?’ he said absently. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘My sister. She’s here.’
‘What? Your sister? Where?’
I nodded towards the group that surrounded her. ‘She’s in the middle of that bunch of officers. I just saw her.’
He concentrated his previously wandering gaze on the centre of the dance floor. ‘I can’t see a girl,’ he said. ‘It’s all men. You’re imagining it.’ But just then the group parted and Xanthe reappeared, her cheeks slightly pink with excitement, laughing at something one of them had said.
‘There she is. Look.’ I didn’t need to point. Xanthe was a magnet to men’s eyes and Charlie wasn’t the only one in the room who was staring at her. I knew that she was loving it. Her arm was held protectively by a tall, aristocratic-looking officer, a man as blond as she, with a narrow, slightly tanned face and the bearing of a natural leader. They were the most compelling couple in the room.
‘Good God!’ Charlie breathed. ‘So that’s the famous Xanthe Blake.’
I closed my eyes and sighed. If Charlie had even vaguely fancied me before, he wouldn’t now. It was always the way.
But I was wrong.
‘Christ,’ he said. ‘She’s terrifying. How could anyone keep up with her?’
I laughed. ‘They do, Charlie. They do. Perhaps they’re braver men than you, or more foolish.’ I stood for a moment and watched her. She was wearing a black, figure-hugging dress with bands of sequins around the bodice and tiny shoulder straps. It must have cost a fortune. But then, all her clothes cost a fortune.
‘Are you going to introduce me?’ Charlie asked eagerly. ‘She’s with a crowd that would be useful for us. I’d like to hear them talking about Herr Hitler and get an idea of what makes them tick. Why they’re so devoted.’
I sighed. I knew I would have to go over and speak to her and put up with the patronising scorn that would be my fate, but I wanted a few more moments to keep that feeling of allure which had been buoying me up, so I stood and watched my sister while Charlie hovered impatiently at my side. I didn’t have to wait for long. A piercing squeal, which stopped everyone in their tracks, announced that Xanthe had spotted me.
‘Jesus!’ said Charlie. ‘What was that?’
‘Xanthe,’ I giggled. ‘I’d know that screech anywhere.’ And in a moment, trailing her entourage, she was by my side.
‘Seffy!’ she cried. ‘What the hell are you doing here? And who’s this?’ She gave Charlie one of her seductive pouts. He was, for once, dumbstruck.
‘Hello, Xanthe,’ I said and gave her a sisterly peck on the cheek.
She kissed me back and I was enveloped in her heady aura of perfume and confidence. Again she asked, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m working,’ I said. ‘Reporting on Berlin life.’ I turned to Charlie. ‘This is my boss, Charlie Bradford.’
‘Boss?’ simpered Xanthe with an arch expression. ‘He doesn’t look like a boss.’
‘What would you know?’ I said, combative once again, as I always was when faced with my sister’s combined beauty and stupidity.
‘Oh, Seff,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t be horrid.’ She turned to her companions. ‘This is my sister,’ she said. ‘You’d never guess, would you?’
The officer who had been holding her arm smiled at me. ‘Xanthe, meine Liebe, please introduce us correctly.’
Xanthe grinned. I knew she was about to show off. ‘Wolf, may I introduce my sister, Persephone Blake, and her boss, Charlie . . . Bradford.’ Her eyes were dancing as she smirked at me. ‘And this officer is my friend, Count von Klausen.’
The count clicked his heels in an almost exaggerated way, and taking my proffered hand, raised it to his lips. ‘Fräulein Blake. I am so very pleased to meet you.’
‘How do you do?’ I said and waited while the count clicked his heels and shook hands with Charlie. The other officers clicked their heels too and gave slight bows.
‘I can’t introduce them properly,’ giggled Xanthe, ‘because I only know their Christian names, but they’re all jolly good fun.’
I smiled and nodded to the group of officers who, after a moment or two, drifted away, leaving the four of us together. ‘Come, sit,’ said von Klausen, ‘let me get you some champagne.’ He looked up and immediately a waiter appeared. We were shown to a table on the edge of the dance floor and champagne and glasses arrived within a minute. The count seemed to be the most important person in the room.
‘So, Mr Bradford,’ he said after we’d all taken a drink. ‘What did you think of the facility at Brandenburg today?’
If Charlie was surprised, he gave absolutely no hint of it and replied, ‘Impressive. The patients we saw appeared to be cared for excellently and the clinic is wonderfully clean and well equipped.’
Von Klausen smiled, flattening his lips over even white teeth. He and Xanthe were a striking pair and I wondered how deep their relationship was. He was obviously keen to show her off and she gazed at him with what was close to devotion. ‘You wonder perhaps,’ he continued, clearly irritated that Charlie hadn’t risen to the bait, ‘how I knew you’d been to Brandenburg. Is this a surprise to you?’
‘Not really.’ Charlie put on his deadpan face. ‘I should imagine that everything I’ve done since I came into your country has been noticed. My newspaper has a large circulation and my name is hardly unknown. The editor and the owner are keen for me to shine a light on world affairs. You would want me to report the good things about Germany, and I will.’ He took a sip from his glass of champagne. ‘And, of course, any bad things I come across.’
Von Klausen ignored that last remark. ‘You must have seen that Berlin has changed for the better. The decadence of the twenties has largely gone, is that not so?’
Charlie nodded. ‘It has become a less exciting city, certainly. And while it is perhaps more organised, there do seem to be fewer freedoms. Is that a good thing? Surely there should be room for some individualism.’
Our German host smiled, but his eyes remained cold. ‘Freedom to do what, Herr Bradford? That is a tricky problem, is it not? Should the happiness of the people be disturbed by a few dissidents? No, I don’t believe so.’ Then without giving Charlie the opportunity to reply he turned to me. ‘Your presence here has come as a surprise to me, Fräulein Blake. Until dear Xanthe introduced us I hadn’t connected Mr Bradford’s companion with her beautiful sister.’
‘I suppose there’s no reason why you should,’ I said lightly. ‘I’m a very junior member of Charlie’s team. Here to look at the shops and the museums. That sort of thing.’
‘Yes, we noted that you were walking around the city today. You got lost, I believe.’
My stomach was rapidly turning to water. Had I been followed to Sarah’s flat and would she be in trouble because of it? Although I kept smiling, my mind was searching desperately for a suitable reply. Beside me I could feel Charlie sitting forward and knew he was going to answer for me. That’s when
I became angry. For one thing, I was furious that Charlie thought I couldn’t answer for myself and, more than that, how dare this German secret policeman question me? How dare he have me followed?
‘Goodness,’ I said, my voice cold. ‘However did you know that?’ I pretended to think for a moment and then said, ‘Of course. I was stopped by two policemen who looked at my passport. They said I was in a dangerous part of the city and should turn back.’ I shook my head in a way that I’d always despised, that of someone who was part of the ruling class. ‘I have to say that they were rather rude, making salacious remarks,’ I continued. ‘I got a very poor impression of your forces of law and order and I can’t imagine a London policeman behaving like that. Our bobbies have much better manners.’
Von Klausen’s smile disappeared and a nervous tic worked in his cheek. ‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘On behalf of our police force. Those officers will be disciplined.’ He wasn’t giving up, though. ‘So, did you turn back?’
I tried not to make my sigh of relief audible. He doesn’t know, I thought gleefully. They didn’t follow me afterwards. ‘Of course,’ I said lightly. ‘I always do as I’m told.’ I felt Charlie’s hand giving my knee a squeeze. Well done, he was saying.
Xanthe butted in, obviously bored with a conversation which didn’t include her. ‘Seffy,’ she said. ‘Do the parents know you’re here?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Do they know where you are?’
‘No!’ She giggled. ‘Aren’t we naughty?’
I laughed with her, while I looked around the room and waited for my heart to stop beating so energetically. The Kaiserhof wasn’t as grand as the Adlon, but was still an important hotel and the guests mingling in the room looked every bit as wealthy. Most of the men were in uniform, many of them dressed, as was von Klausen, in black with silver braid and the death’s head badge on the collar. There were others in different uniforms, but although they mixed with each other they stayed away from von Klausen’s men. I decided I must ask Charlie about the different factions. And then there were civilians I guessed were government officials, who trailed little coteries of hangers-on. Their small fair-haired wives looked nervous, as though finding the grandeur of their surroundings terrifying.
‘The women here aren’t very fashionable,’ said Xanthe loudly. ‘Where on earth do they get those dreadful clothes?’
Abruptly, Von Klausen stood up. ‘Herr Bradford. Would you like to meet some of the guests? There are people here that I know you would like to mention in your article. I shall introduce you.’ He smiled down at Xanthe and me. ‘I’m sure the ladies will excuse us. They must have family matters to discuss.’
Charlie leapt to his feet. ‘Thank you, Count. I’d like that very much. I think I spotted Major Heydrich over by the bandstand. I should like to meet him. His organisation of the Olympic Games was most impressive.’
‘You shall meet him,’ von Klausen smiled magnanimously. ‘Come.’
We watched them go over to a group of what were clearly high-ranking officials and there was much clicking of heels and bows as Charlie was introduced.
‘Is he your new boyfriend?’ Xanthe asked me. ‘He’s not bad-looking and quite well spoken.’
‘No. He’s my boss. I told you. I’m only here as an assistant. Anyway, what about you and this von Klausen?’
‘Count von Klausen,’ she corrected me and took a deep sigh. ‘Isn’t he absolutely gorgeous? I met him in London and he invited me to Germany. I’ve been to his hunting lodge in some forest or other, I forget the name, anyway it was so fantastic. Lovely parties, and servants everywhere. They all speak English, you know. The upper-class ones, I mean.’
‘So, is he the one?’
‘Well.’ Xanthe lowered her voice. ‘The thing is, Seff, he’s married, but they don’t live together and he’s said that he’ll get a divorce. Just imagine. If I married him I’d be a countess. Mother would love that. Then she wouldn’t worry about the divorce thing.’
‘Oh yes,’ I agreed. ‘She’d love that.’ I looked at her, so pretty and so stupid, and the protective older sister in me came to the fore. ‘Xanthe,’ I said, putting my hand over her exquisitely manicured little paw, ‘there’s going to be a war between England and Germany. If you stay with this man, you’ll be on the wrong side. You must think about it.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She held up her glass and a waiter rushed forward to refill it. ‘There isn’t going to be a war. The government at home will soon come to their senses and see that Herr Hitler is right. We can’t let communists and Jews run everything like they are now. That’s what Wolf believes and anyway, most of my set at home agree. I’ve told them here, whenever it’s been discussed, that we all think that they’re right and that our government is wrong.’
I shouldn’t have been surprised; I knew that Xanthe mixed with a group of people who were fascists in all but name, but it appalled me just the same. What could I say to her? How could I show her she was wrong? I was still contemplating it when she said, ‘That’s not a bad dress you’re wearing. Quite suits you, actually. Where did you get it?’
I swallowed the words I’d planned. What was the point in haranguing her? She’d never understand. ‘I bought it here,’ I answered with a sigh. ‘In a little boutique.’
‘I bought mine in Paris,’ Xanthe preened. ‘It looks it, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ I capitulated. ‘It’s lovely.’
She smiled, nodding to the people who seemed to recognise her and giving fluttering little waves to others. I looked around the room, wondering who Charlie was meeting and wishing I could meet them too. Suddenly Xanthe turned to me. ‘God, I forgot. I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘What?’ I asked, looking at her excited face.
‘You’ll never guess who’s here. In Berlin, I mean.’
‘Who?’ I asked idly, not at all interested in which of her unpleasant friends had joined her in Berlin, and transferred my gaze to the people mingling beside the bar. I could see Charlie being introduced to someone who looked important and to others who were being beckoned over to the group. Should I get up and walk over to them? It would be much more fascinating than listening to Xanthe. But she leant forward and grabbed my arm.
‘Oh, you know, Seff. That man.’
More people were joining the group where Charlie stood. I watched them: smart, important people who looked as though they owned the world. ‘Which man . . .’ I started to say but got no further. I didn’t need to. I was looking directly at Amyas.
For a moment I thought I might faint. My world crashed around me and I struggled to breathe.
‘Oh look, Seffy. There he is.’ Xanthe was squeaking with excitement. ‘Shall I wave?’
‘No,’ I managed to whisper. ‘Please don’t.’ I turned my head away and hoped, so hoped, that he wouldn’t see me. I wanted to escape, to leave the hotel, leave Berlin and return to the safety of my flat and sit by the window, where I could look out at the autumn rain drenching the city garden square. I wanted dark and dreary days so that I couldn’t be reminded of Amyas and the summer’s magic which had left me for ever.
‘My God.’ Xanthe laughed. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost. For goodness’ sake, Seffy, he was over months ago. Time for you to move on.’
How could I tell her that, for me, Amyas would never be over? I said nothing and prayed that Charlie would return quickly to the table and I could persuade him to take me back to the Adlon. I longed to turn and look at Amyas but I knew that the intensity of my gaze would cause him to look back at me.
‘Oh!’ Xanthe squealed. ‘Here’s Wolf and your “boss” coming back – and guess who they’re bringing with them?’
Do I remember von Klausen clicking his fingers so that another table was drawn up to accommodate the extra people? Of course I do. Every detail, no matter how inane, was etched in my memory. That meal at the Kaiserhof, with the dizzying swell of the music and the rushing back and forth of waiters with plates of food which I co
uldn’t taste, was imprinted on my brain.
‘We have brought friends to join us,’ von Klausen said, his cold blue eyes flitting from Xanthe to me. ‘I believe you know them.’
‘Yes, slightly,’ Xanthe said, giving Amyas a glance. ‘I have met this person once, although I’d say he is more a friend of my sister. However, you must introduce us to this lady.’ She transferred her gaze to the middle-aged woman who stood beside Amyas. Until then my eyes had been fixed on Amyas, on his amused, beautiful face and unconcerned brown eyes, but now I flicked a quick look at her. Was this Mrs Cartwright? His . . . protectress?
‘Of course, meine Liebe. Miss Persephone Blake and Miss Xanthe Blake, I present Mr Amyas Troy and Mrs Elvira Cartwright. Like you, they are visitors from England.’
‘How do you do?’ said Xanthe briefly, making no secret of her dislike, and then smiled at Charlie who was standing behind Amyas. ‘Mr Bradford,’ she said archly and patted the seat of the gilt chair beside her, ‘do come and sit here.’
While von Klausen gallantly pulled out a chair for Mrs Cartwright, Amyas sat down beside me. ‘Hello, Persephone,’ he said and at the sound of his voice my heart did somersaults.
I swallowed, my mouth dry, and took a gulp of champagne before answering. ‘Good evening, Amyas.’ The words I really wanted to say were stuck in the back of my throat. Why are you here, you bastard? Why aren’t you in Spain fighting for a noble cause? But, of course, I couldn’t say them. All I could do was smile inanely as the chatter went on around the table until my jaw got tired and I had to drop the mask. I looked down, but that was hell too because Amyas’s hand was there on the cloth in front of me and once again I could feel his fingers touching my naked body.
‘Seffy!’ Xanthe’s high-pitched voice penetrated my brain. She was obviously repeating herself and I looked up to find that all eyes at the table were on me.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘What?’
‘Mrs Cartwright wants to know where we met Mr Troy. It was Cornwall, wasn’t it?’
What Tomorrow Brings Page 10
