by Hester Rowan
‘Any sign of Allen?’ Kurt asked impatiently.
‘Not as far as I can see.’
‘He was in a procession, you said? Let’s go and find it.’
It wasn’t far to the castle, but it took some time to get there because the crowds were even thicker. The procession hadn’t yet started. The doors of the castle were still closed and guarded by Volkspolizei, and the oxen, garlanded with wild flowers for their performance, stood yoked to the empty waggon, waiting to enter.
Here, in front of the castle, every other person seemed to be in costume of some kind. The chances of identifying Nicolas would be minimal. Perhaps he wasn’t even here …
I was too confused to be certain whether I wanted to see him or not. If he didn’t come, or if I simply couldn’t find him, then there would be no dilemma. My natural, cowardly instincts told me that this was what I must hope for.
But emotionally, of course, I longed to see him. I couldn’t really bring myself to believe that he had abandoned me. If I could see him again, and if he smiled at me in recognition, I should know at once that everything that had made me mistrust him – my being picked up in Berlin, his blank stare when I saw him this morning – had been a terrible mistake. It could all so easily be put right, I felt sure.
But supposing I did see him now, this afternoon, and received nothing but another blank stare?
If that happened … if that happened, then it would in effect be an admission of his guilt. If that happened, I told myself fiercely, I would ignore my heart’s foolishness and point out Nicolas to Kurt so that Kurt could deal with him. It would be the only possible, the only right thing for me to do. Nicolas had treated me abominably, and he deserved everything he would get from Kurt. I felt angry, vindictive.
Kurt had pushed our way through to one of the fountains that were such a feature of the streets of Marberg. This one had a square stone basin several feet high, with a central column that cascaded pink and white geraniums rather than water. A number of spectators had climbed on to the basin to get a better view, and Kurt lifted me up to join them. I sat on the stone edge looking over the heads of the crowd to the castle doors, steadying myself with one hand on Kurt’s shoulder.
The Vopos who seemed to be on permanent guard outside the castle’s great doors once again moved aside. The doors were opened, the waggon rumbled through and a dozen or so costumed men followed it to load up the wine cask in the castle courtyard. Then the drums began to beat and the fifes shrilled high above the cheers of the crowd as the oxen, blinking tolerantly through their garlands, came swaying back into view.
This was a holiday, a festival, a rare opportunity for the local inhabitants to forget that they were prisoners in their own country, and they seemed to be in a mood to make the most of it. Impromptu dances were danced, hats and arms were flung in the air. The spectators swung their shoulders and stamped their feet to the music, and pushed their way forward to tack on to the end of the procession as it made its way past the fountain in the direction of the market place. As it passed I recognized the parti-coloured jester and the fat man in the buff jerkin, but there was small chance of identifying Nicolas even if he were –
There!
He was there, in the procession just as he had been this morning, wearing the same short dark blue cloak slung across one shoulder and the same broad-brimmed hat. Everyone taking part in the procession was looking among the spectators to identify and wave to friends, and Nicolas was looking about him too, but covertly; almost, I thought, anxiously.
Looking, perhaps, for me?
He was level with me, no more than fifteen feet away. I stared at him longingly, willing him to see me, but not daring to do anything to attract his attention. I had to keep my knowledge from Kurt until I had seen Nicolas’s reaction.
He would smile when he saw me, I knew he would. The rapid beat of my heart confirmed that this was all I wanted: one smile of recognition from Nicolas and then I would simply deny to Kurt that I had seen him. Nicolas was obviously here on business of his own, and once we were safely back in England there would be plenty of opportunity to sort out all the mistakes and misunderstandings.
He was almost past. He still hadn’t seen me. Furtively, desperately, I raised the hand furthest from Kurt and waved it. Nicolas turned his head towards me. Our eyes met.
He recognized me. There was absolutely no doubt about that. Even fifteen feet away across the bobbing heads of the merrymaking citizens of Marberg, I could see the light of recognition in his eyes.
I was smiling at him now, waving frantically, awaiting his response.
None came. His face remained cold, impassive, his eyes slid away, he walked on.
‘You’ve seen him? Where is he?’ Kurt was shaking my arm urgently and I realized that my fingers – resting at first so lightly on his shoulder – were now gripping him fiercely. There would be no point in trying to deny that I had seen Nicolas.
Even if I wanted to.
But as for betraying him …
No. Whatever Kurt told me, whatever reason told me, I couldn’t do it. Even though Nicolas had deserted me and left me desolate, I couldn’t hate him enough to give him away.
My voice was thick with tears. ‘He’s there,’ I choked, pointing to a complete stranger at the head of the procession: ‘There, the one in the red cloak!’
‘Well done, my dear – thank you!’ Kurt loosened my fingers and patted my hand, all without taking his eyes from the red cloak as its wearer moved on. ‘You stay here,’ he commanded, ‘and don’t worry about anything. I’ll come back and fetch you later, after I’ve had it out with Allen.’
Kurt pushed his way forward, finding as I had found that he was caught up and delayed by the spectators who crowded in the wake of the procession. I stood up on the stone basin of the fountain, hoping to catch a last glimpse of Nicolas, but he was already out of sight. The square was emptying rapidly as everyone was drawn by the music towards the market place, and I was left alone.
I scrambled down from the fountain, choking back my desolation, and ran. Anywhere, so long as it was away both from Kurt and Nicolas.
I didn’t pause until I reached a gateway in the town walls, a small arch leading out to a little-used dirt road that wound down the hill and lost itself among the trees. I ran through the archway and then hesitated, bewildered, until I looked back and recognized the Dürer watch tower rearing high above the wall. This was the way Scott had brought me this morning.
There were several footpaths leading down into the woods, but I recognized one of the green tunnels and plunged down the steep zig-zag path that led to the camp site. One of the people who worked at the camp would be able to tell me where the coaches were parked, and if I found his coach I would eventually find Willy Hendricks.
It would be a lot to ask of him, of course, but I couldn’t believe that Willy would refuse to help me. If Kurt had contacts who could get me across the border then surely Willy, who had relatives in Marberg, would be able to do the same.
If I’d stopped to consider, I might have known that it wouldn’t be as easy as that to cross the border. If it were, half the population of Marberg would have hopped over long since.
But I couldn’t begin to think coherently. I needed urgently to get away, to escape from this walled-in town and this terrifyingly wired-in country, and I wanted to do it without the humiliation of seeing either Nicolas or Kurt ever again.
Anxiety made me try to run too quickly along the tree-shadowed path. I leaped over a fallen branch that lay in my way, slipped on a patch of muddy ground and fell. As I stumbled to my feet and brushed my skirt I heard, unmistakably, the sound of someone sliding and pushing through the undergrowth just above me and a little to my right.
I held my breath and listened. The noise stopped.
I ran on, straining to hear, and the sounds came again. Someone else was hurrying down the hill, slithering down one of the steeper paths that ran almost straight from top to bottom. I stopped in mid-strid
e but the noise was ahead of me now, going on down.
I breathed more easily. For just a moment I had been afraid that I was being followed, that Kurt was chasing me to exact revenge for the way I had deceived him.
Telling myself sharply not to imagine things, I ran on to the next elbow of the path. This was the place where the hillside levelled a little and the trees thinned, the grassy place where Scott and I had rested on the way up.
I rested for a minute now, propping myself at arm’s length against an oak tree that grew at the edge of the path, deliberately giving the other runner time to get clear. I listened again. The foot of the hill was still some way below, and I could hear nothing more. I shrugged, and pushed myself upright.
Just behind me, the bushes rustled.
Fear made my scalp prickle. I turned my head.
Nothing.
And then, from the other side, a man rushed me. I whirled round to face him, terrified, a scream rising instinctively to my lips, but he pulled me roughly to him and clapped his hand over my mouth.
Chapter Nineteen
I had never before seen his face so dark with anger. The green of his eyes was icy, contemptuous, his grip painful.
‘Don’t you dare scream,’ he warned me in a low, hard voice. ‘I’ll take my hand away only if you’re prepared to keep quiet. Are you?’
His hand was pressed over my nose and mouth, smothering me. I nodded as well as I could, gasping with relief as he took it away. He shifted his grip on my arms, looked round quickly and then hurried me across the clearing and behind the big linden tree out of sight of the path.
‘Now!’ said Nicolas grimly, grasping my shoulders and forcing me to face him. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
The adrenalin had flowed, turning fear into fury. ‘You,’ I choked, ‘you have the nerve to ask me that! Considering what you did to me, what I’ve been through on your account …’ I gestured incoherently to the dark-blue cloak that was still slung across his shoulder, ‘considering that I didn’t point you out, even though it meant breaking my promise to Kurt …’
He shook his head impatiently. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about! And for heaven’s sake keep your voice down. You don’t imagine that I’m dressed up for fun, do you? I came here on a special mission and it’s vital that I’m accepted as one of the local population – and there you were at the rehearsal this morning, doing your very best to give me away! You’d have succeeded too, if I hadn’t spotted you in the crowd just before you saw me. I was really shaken – I’d assumed that you were safely back in England. What do you mean by coming here? Why in heaven’s name didn’t you do as you were told and go straight back to West Berlin?’
I was quivering with anger. ‘How can you ask me that? You were the one who gave me away! If it hadn’t been for Kurt – let go, Nicolas, you’re hurting me.’
He slackened his grip a little. ‘You’ve become extraordinarily friendly with Braun, haven’t you?’ he demanded. ‘I wasted precious time this morning following you down to the camp site in the hope of being able to speak to you in private, and there you were in his arms. And then this afternoon you were wandering round the town together arm in arm. Why did he bring you here? What are you both up to?’
I ducked suddenly, wriggling out of his grasp, and stood glaring at him. My hands trembled as I pushed the hair away from my face.
‘Kurt,’ I said with dignity, ‘has been wonderfully good and kind and helpful – which is a great deal more than I can say of you! I hated you for what you did to me, but I still couldn’t give you away to him because I thought he was going to beat you up. But now … if I’d known how oafish you were going to be … I wish I had given you away. It would serve you right if he did beat you up. You’re the most callous, inconsiderate –’
‘Stop being so ridiculously melodramatic, Alison. If Braun wants to beat me up he’s welcome to try – but why on earth should he want to?’
‘Because you gave me away to the East Germans, of course,’ I snapped. ‘It was a wicked, despicable thing to do – as Kurt says, you’re obviously not to be trusted –’
Nicolas’s expression had been slowly changing from angry contempt to incredulity: ‘I gave you away to the … Alison, what are you talking about?’
His horrified disbelief was so completely genuine that I felt a sudden, overwhelming welling-up of relief. Then Kurt had been mistaken about Nicolas – and so, thank heaven, had I!
What had happened in East Berlin had nothing to do with Nicolas at all. It was almost certainly, I thought, the porter in the apartment block who had given me away. I found myself telling Nicolas so, babbling out the whole story up to the point where Kurt had come to Marberg.
I had never seen anyone with such a shattered look. Nicolas listened in silence, shaking his head with anxiety at intervals.
‘Oh, Alison … you poor girl! If I’d had any idea that this would happen … it seemed so simple, and Braun guaranteed the arrangement on this side. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.’
‘Well, it was my own stupid fault,’ I admitted. ‘Kurt warned me about that porter, but I really gave myself away by chatting to her. And you’d told me not to take anything over with me, but I insisted on taking my own lipstick. So I can’t blame anyone else.’
‘Even so … I can only thank heaven that Braun was there to look after you. But, Alison – even though he might have been suspicious of my intentions, I still don’t understand how you could seriously imagine that I would give you away to the East Germans! Why didn’t you use your common sense? My family knows and likes you, and we know your aunt. What did you expect me to do? Go back to England and say to my mother, “Oh, by the way, I’ve left Alison over in East Germany and it’s bound to be a few years before they let her out of prison, so perhaps you’ll mention it to her aunt next time you see her …”? Of course I didn’t give you away.’ He gave a wry grimace. ‘You must have had a very poor opinion of me to imagine that I could ever do such a thing.’
I shrugged. ‘When you’re stuck behind the East German frontier,’ I pointed out, ‘it’s difficlt to think kindly of the man who was responsible for putting you there.’
He groaned. ‘I know … I can hardly expect you to forgive me easily for what has happened to you. But frankly, Alison, I don’t believe that you gave yourself away. Elisabeth would never have been allowed to go to the West if they’d suspected her. There must have been some other reason for picking you up.’
‘Does it matter, now?’ I was conscious, now that I was safe, of an overwhelming weariness. The whole wretched affair was incomprehensible. I didn’t want to have to think about it any more.
Nicolas checked his watch. ‘Of course it does,’ he said abruptly. ‘If someone arranged for you to be picked up, I have to know who and why. It certainly wasn’t anyone in the West, so I’m beginning to wonder if Braun had a hand in it.’
‘Kurt? Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘It’s not ridiculous,’ he said sternly. ‘Tell me – you said that Braun was surprised that you had seen me here?’
‘Every bit as surprised as I was. He did say that you probably had some business of your own here, but he had no idea what it was.’
Nicolas frowned. ‘Well, that’s not true for a start. He certainly didn’t know for sure that I was coming, but he must have guessed. He’d know perfectly well why I was here.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
He looked at me reprovingly. ‘I thought I’d trained you not to ask questions. Look, you say that Braun persuaded the driver of a West German coach to bring you here – Willy Hendricks, by any chance?’
‘Yes. Kurt said that Willy was one of his West German contacts.’
‘So he is. Willy is one of our men, as Braun knows. But Braun didn’t ask Willy to help you cross the border?’
‘Well, no. But he explained why. Willy has relatives in Marberg and it was too much of a risk for him. Kurt said that I wasn’t to as
k Willy for help, except as the very last resort.’
Nicolas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did he …? Then I’m sorry, but that proves that Braun has been misleading you.’
I was indignant. ‘I don’t believe it! He was being considerate, that’s all – he tried not to involve Willy unnecessarily.’
‘Rubbish. Involvement is part of Willy’s job. If Braun had really wanted to help you in East Berlin, he would have told Willy the whole story and put you in his care. There was no need for Braun to come here at all – besides, he couldn’t get you across the border.’
‘I don’t see why not – presumably you’re planning to get across yourself?’
‘And taking you with me! But we’ve had to set up a complex operation to do it, because there are no roads across the border in this region at all. It’s wired and mined and guarded all the way, and Braun knows it.’
I was too weary to argue. ‘I don’t know what his plans are, do I?’ I said irritably. ‘All I know is that Kurt has been marvellously kind to me and I won’t hear a word against him. I’m going up to the town now to find him and tell him that everything’s all right, and that he doesn’t have to look for you any more.’
Nicolas went very still. ‘Look for me, did you say?’
‘Yes, that’s what he’s doing. That’s why he wanted me to point you out to him when I saw you, because he wasn’t entirely sure of recognizing you. We thought we couldn’t trust you, you see, and that you’d have to be stopped from doing … whatever you are doing. But as soon as I explain to him that it’s all been a terrible misunderstanding –’
‘No!’ Nicolas was decisive. ‘You’re explaining nothing to him and you’re certainly not going looking for him!’
I stared at him blankly. ‘But Nicolas, I must! I have to tell him that I’ve found you and that you’ll be taking me across the border – and I certainly have to thank him for everything he’s done for me. Good heavens, without him I’d be in an East German prison now! He’s been marvellous – and he’s really rather a dear. He would be terribly hurt if I didn’t say good-bye –’
