Always and Forever (7 page)

“I am sorry, we have no coffee or tea,” she said wistfully. “But from the man next door we could buy a bottle of decent wine for you.” Phil produced more bills. “Edouard, go fetch the wine,” she ordered.

When they were alone in the house the older couple went off to spend the night with friends—Phil reached into the firewood stack beside the living room fireplace, pulled out a chunk of wood, and looked around for newspaper.

“Over here,” Kathy said and reached for a sheaf of newspaper from the waiting heap. “A fire will feel great.” There was a chill in the house that told her the firewood was meted out grudgingly.

Kathy stood and watched while Phil crumpled up the newspaper, placed it in the grate, then added the chunk of wood.

“Bring in a pair of glasses from the kitchen,” he told Kathy while he struck a match and held it to the paper. “We’ll have some wine once the wood starts to burn. Along with those fancy English biscuits and the cheese we bought in that shop.”

“Coming right up,” Kathy said lightly. This was like something from a Hollywood movie.

They waited until the chunk of wood was ignited, then Phil opened the wine bottle, and filled the two glasses. Kathy was opening the box of English biscuits.

“Close the drapes,” Phil ordered. “I want to shut out the whole world.”

“All right.” Kathy hurried to obey. It was a lovely feeling to be alone with Phil in an ancient cottage with a fireplace lighting up the room.

They settled themselves on the floor, using the sofa as a backrest, and gazed in contented silence at the flames while they sipped the rather decent wine and nibbled at the English biscuits and cheese.

“You know what I said to those people about your being my wife?” Phil said softly, his eyes holding hers. “It sounded great to me.”

“The woman didn’t believe you,” Kathy said, her voice uneven.

“How does it sound to you?” he challenged. “Kathy, will you marry me?”

“You’re drunk already?” she laughed, but her heart was pounding.

“Only drunk with the pleasure of being with you.” He set down his wineglass, took her glass from her hands and put it on the floor. “Kathy, I’m not drunk.” He chuckled. “The whole bottle couldn’t make me drunk. I want to marry you. I’m not sure of what lies ahead for us; but whatever, I want to share it with you.”

“Phil, I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve known each other only a few weeks.” But her heart was saying “Yes!”

“I know how I feel about you. Maybe we can even get married right here in Paris—” His mouth reached for hers. His hands pulled her close.

Kathy’s eyes fluttered shut as his hands reached beneath her sweater and crept around to unhook her bra. She abandoned herself to the passion that welled within her. No turning back now. His mouth clung to hers while his hands fondled the lush spill of her breasts.

She was aware that he was bringing pillows to the floor from the sofa.

“We’ll have a bed before the fireplace,” he murmured, his mouth at her ear as he manipulated her along the threadbare rug before the hearth.

She waited, devoid of will, caught up in emotions that refused denial. With gentle impatience he helped her out of her clothes, then shucked away his own.

“Cold?” he asked as she shivered faintly.

“No,” she whispered.

His mouth found hers again, and he made his way between her slender thighs. She murmured a startled protest for an instant, but her arms tightened about his shoulders in approval, everything forgotten in the joy of this meeting.

Phil rummaged in the closet in the upstairs bedroom and returned to Kathy with a pair of shabby robes.

“Not exactly Coco Chanel,” he said humorously, “but why bother dressing?”

In a little while they made love again. Kathy refused to allow herself to think beyond this weekend. Had he meant that about their getting married? Or was it just a pitch to make her stop putting up barriers?

Later, he lounged before the fireplace and listened to squeaky old records on the phonograph while she prepared a Spartan dinner.

“Let’s eat in here,” he called to her. “It’s the only warm place in the house.”

“They won’t be happy that we’re using so much wood,” Kathy said uneasily while she brought in a large bowl of noodles and cheese along with a pot of tea.

“I hear most of the French can’t stand the sight of noodles,” Phil said. “That’s what they’ve been eating for years. And where did you find tea? I thought the old broad said they had no tea or coffee.”

“I always keep a couple of tea bags in my wallet,” she told him.

“Don’t tell me. I’m acquiring a shrewd little wife.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Her eyes glowed.
He’d meant it about their getting married.
“Three months ago I didn’t know you existed.”

“I don’t suppose we could get married here in Paris this weekend,” he said wryly. “I have reservations about being married in Germany.”

“I’d hate a cold civil ceremony.” Kathy flinched in distaste. “I want my parents and Aunt Sophie there—and your parents and your sisters.”

“Oh God, I can just hear my father and mother going at it again,” Phil said groaning. “When my sisters got married, you’d think they were planning a royal wedding.”

“We’ll insist on something quiet. Just family,” Kathy decreed. “And let’s don’t say anything to the others. Not until we’re on our way home.”

“I should have reservations for myself in eight days,” he told her and her eyes widened in surprise. “The magazine is arranging it,” he explained. “I’ll be waiting for you in New York. But don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Phil lay naked beneath the pile of comforters on the bed. He listened to the faint sound of Kathy’s regular breathing. Yeah, she was asleep, he told himself confidently. Hell, she ought to be, the way they’d made love. He felt a smug approval that she had been so responsive.

Wouldn’t David be pissed when he realized that his cousin had moved in where he had never made it! David was such a loser. He wouldn’t have to say anything to David. David would understand just from seeing them together.

He knew when he asked Kathy to come with him to Paris that he’d propose. She was beautiful and bright and hot. After two years of fighting a war he wanted a steady woman in his life. No more having to chase after girls—he’d have a woman of his own. Chuck and he had talked a lot about that.

He waited another few moments, just to make sure Kathy was asleep for the night, then slid from under the comforters with a silent oath as he emerged into the dank cold. Swiftly he dressed, with constant glances at the bed to make sure Kathy was asleep.

He walked down the stairs, out through the kitchen into the backyard. He’d find a shovel in the toolshed. It was almost as though the calendar had swung backward and he was heading with Chuck to bury the paintings. Only that had been a scorching night in August and they’d worried about being seen in the spill of moonlight.

The paintings had to be here, he thought with sudden apprehension as he found a shovel. Who else knew about them? He counted off paces from the back steps, then began to dig, no longer cold with the physical effort required of him. Damn, how far down had they planted the canvases? Then the shovel hit the metal lid of the oversized toolbox in which they had cached their secret treasure.

Gloating in relief, he brought out the box and opened it. The paintings had not suffered through the course of being buried; He could take the art and bury the box again, cover it up. Nobody would know he’d been digging out here. And if they got curious, so what? Nobody knew who he was. By tomorrow afternoon Kathy and he would be heading back to Hamburg. Just an ex-GI and his girlfriend out for a weekend in Paree.

He’d have Kathy bring in the paintings, he decided as he made his way back into the house. He’d just ask her to stuff a box of film into one of her valises. The box would be sealed up; she wouldn’t bother trying to open it.

“I’ve got so damn much film I can’t squeeze this batch into my luggage. Bring it in for me, honey.
”

David watched in private torment while Phil presented each of the girls of the group with a bottle of French perfume.

“A gift,” Phil stressed with an air of gallantry.

It wasn’t the perfume that upset David. He knew from the glint in Phil’s eyes, from the possessive way he dropped an arm about Kathy’s shoulders, that his cousin had made yet another conquest.
How could Kathy fall for that line of shit that Phil spread around?

“I’ll be sailing out of here in about eight days,” Phil told them. “Provided, of course, my magazine gets the ticket here in time. You know the problem we’re having with mail these days,” he reminded grimly.

“Take my place on the group’s return trip, Phil.” David turned to Brian. “That’ll be okay, won’t it?”

“What about you, David?” Brian seemed troubled.

“I’m going on to Berlin,” he said. “I’ll probably stay there.”

“You mean for good?” Rhoda asked.

“For good,” David acknowledged. “I’d like to pick up where my father left off.” He made a point of avoiding Kathy’s eyes.
Why did she look so shocked?

“Why don’t you come back home with us and give it some thought?” Brian urged. “It’s a serious decision.”

“I know,” David said quietly. “It’s what I have to do. Thanks for bringing me over, Brian. This has been a very special time for me.”

Later, when the others had gone off to bed, David sat alone in the living room. When had he lost out with Kathy? When Phil arrived, he taunted himself. But then Phil always had that way of moving in and taking any girl that appeared interested in him. It was a weird kind of competition, but it had never disturbed him until now.

“David—”

He glanced up with a start as Kathy came into the night-cold room. She wore a maroon flannel robe over her pajamas.

“I thought you’d be fast asleep by now after a weekend in Paris.” He managed a light chuckle.

“I can’t believe you’re not going back with us.”

“I’d been thinking about it for weeks,” he lied. “I can be useful to those who’re trying to pick up their lives again in Berlin.”

“Everything will be hectic from now on,” Kathy said slowly. She was reaching for something beneath the lapel of her robe. “Let me give you this back before I forget about it.” She unpinned the bow-shaped brooch, closed the pin again, and handed it to him.

“Keep it,” he said, almost brusque. “As a souvenir of our time in Germany.”

“David, I can’t do that,” she said. “It’s too important to you. A piece of home, you said—”

She held out the brooch with an air of finality. Reluctantly he took it from her. No woman would ever wear it, he vowed. He would love no other woman.

“Be happy, Kathy,” he said with unexpected intensity. “You’re a very special lady.”

A
S FEBRUARY APPROACHED ITS
end, Brian and his group grew apprehensive about transportation back to New York. Phil, too, reported that the magazine was encountering problems about his passage home. Kathy was touched when she inadvertently discovered that Phil had received reservations on a west-bound liner and was concealing this. He was uneasy about leaving her behind in Hamburg, she interpreted, when he knew their funds were running out.

Then Brian managed to cut through bureaucratic red tape to acquire reservations for the group but with only forty-eight hours’ notice before sailing.

“I won’t even be able to tell my folks I’m coming home,” Kathy told Phil while he helped her pack. He was apologetic about asking her to find a place in her luggage for batches of his film because his own was overstuffed, and it was impossible to buy luggage in Hamburg. Nor was there time to try to secure any using the barter system.

“I’ll just walk in on them,” said Kathy, her thoughts still with her family. She felt a rush of excitement at the prospect of seeing them all again. She had never been away so long.

“I cabled my folks,” Phil said casually. They grew up in such different worlds, Kathy thought again. “Would you like me to send a cable to your family?”

“No,” she said quickly and laughed. “They’d be terrified before they opened it and saw it wasn’t some awful message—like I’d died or was badly hurt.”

“We’re traveling like cattle,” he warned. “The next time we cross the Atlantic it’ll be on the likes of the
Normandie
or the
Queen Elizabeth.”

Kathy started at the light knock on the open door, and turned to face David.

“Kathy, I thought you’d like to know,” he said with a shy smile. “I heard from my uncle in New York. Phil’s father—”

“What’s up?” Phil demanded, one eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “I had your father run an ad in the
Daily News
to try to locate somebody in the Bronx. A cousin to a teenager Kathy and I were working with.”

“Are you kidding?” Phil clucked in skepticism. “People read the three front pages, the sporting news, and the columnists. Who’s going to notice a personals ad?”

“Heidi’s cousin did,” David shot back, his face triumphant. He turned to Kathy. “The cousin’s been in touch with the relief agencies. She and her husband want to bring Heidi to live with them.”

“Oh, David, how wonderful!” She darted across the room and threw her arms about him. “Did you tell her yet?”

“She knows.” David nodded while Kathy self-consciously took a step back.

“Phil, this is such great news.” She turned to him, surprised by his lack of enthusiasm. “Heidi has nobody else in the world but her cousins in the Bronx.”

“Some luck.” Now Phil acknowledged his approval.

“I’m glad it happened while we’re here. I wanted so much to see Heidi with family. It was a fine thing for you to have accomplished, David.” Why wasn’t David going back to New York with them, Kathy asked herself for the dozenth time. Why must he sentence himself to stay in Germany? New York was his home now, he hadn’t lived in Berlin since he was a teenager.

“I’m happy for Heidi.” All at once David was unfamiliarly formal. “It’s what she wanted.”

At dinner David announced he was leaving for Berlin late that evening. Kathy was startled. She’d thought he’d stay until the group sailed tomorrow night.