The Pathfinder (31 page)

‘How about finding a wife?'

‘I'm too old a leopard to change my spots. No woman would have me. Are you still seeing that fräulein of yours, by the way?'

‘Yes.'

‘Is it serious?'

‘Yes. Extremely. I've asked her to marry me.'

‘What did she say?'

‘She wants some time to think.'

‘She'll say yes, in the end. She'd be a fool to turn you down. You're mad, Michael. If you
must
get yourself spliced wait until this business is all over and you're back in Blighty, then get yourself a nice, sensible, uncomplicated English girl. Somebody who knows the drill; no skeletons in the cupboard; everything above board and tickety-boo. Doesn't even have to be a good-looker, so long as she's not hideous. All cats are grey in the dark.'

In spite of himself, Harrison smiled. ‘How would you know, Tubby?'

‘So I'm told, dear boy. So I'm told.'

He
was
mad. He knew that in his heart. It was mad to have got involved with the Leichts in the first place, crazier still to have fallen so deeply in love with Lili, but he had every intention of ignoring Tubby's sound advice.

She had asked for time. Fair enough, he'd give her all the time it took, but he was going to make damned sure that she married him in the end. So far as he was concerned, none of the practical difficulties that worried her about her family mattered. He could take care of it all: Dirk, Rudi, the grandfather. God knows, he'd had plenty of practice in finding solutions to thorny problems. He thought about it when he had the time, lying awake at night, dog-tired from long hours on duty but unable to sleep for thinking about her. A decent boarding school in England for Rudi, a nursing home probably for the old man – one nearby – so Lili could visit him easily. Sorting Dirk out wouldn't be quite so easy – he was a law unto himself – but he'd manage something. The flat would be too small, of course, so he'd have to sell it and buy somewhere larger.

‘And then there is me,' she'd said, turning her head away from him. ‘What would your family say about me?'

‘They'll be delighted to see me married at last.'

‘But to a German girl? To someone they know nothing about? And with such problems?'

‘They'll still be delighted.' He knew that, in fact, they would be anything but delighted, though they would conceal it from her, if not from him.

She had shaken her head vehemently. ‘I think they would wish you to marry an English girl. Somebody quite different. Someone who has not lived through the war in Berlin.'

Damaged goods was how Tubby had described it, and it was probably what she meant. He'd heard the horror stories for himself. The atrocities and mutilations, the raping of every female that the Russian soldiers could get their hands on when they took the city.
Frau komm!
If there was something to tell, let her tell him when she was ready to tell him, or maybe never, if that was her wish. It would make no difference at all to him.

Dr Meier was sitting up in his chair and looking a little better. Lili stoked up the stove and put the soup she had brought to heat. When it was warm enough, she gave it to him and stayed while he drank it, sitting on the other chair beside him. After a few mouthfuls he paused.

‘This is very good.'

‘It's swedes, that's all, with a little carrot. Dirk brought home some meat and I made a stew but the meat was so bad I had to throw it all away.'

‘What a pity.'

‘Dirk thought I had done it on purpose and he was very angry, so we had another quarrel. We're always quarrelling these days.'

‘How sad for you.'

She nodded and was silent while he drank some more soup. ‘The squadron leader has asked me to marry him. I said that I couldn't answer him yet. I have to think.'

‘What about?'

‘About everything. Dirk, Grandfather, Rudi. And me. Most of all me. He knows so little about me and I can't tell him the whole truth.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I know that if I did he would never feel the same about me again. I would lose him.'

‘How can you be so sure of that?'

‘Dirk thinks so, and so do I. He might say that he understood and perhaps he would really believe that he did, but, deep down, it would change everything. He is so very correct, you see. So very English.'

Nico called and she let him in reluctantly. In the living room she did not invite him to sit down and remained standing herself, at a distance. He took his hat off and laid it on the table and then his gloves beside it. Michael always did the same, but his hat was not made of expensive fur and his gloves were dark and plain, not yellow pigskin. ‘Is Dirk in?'

‘No.'

‘Is he all right?'

No, he's not all right, she wanted to say. He's all wrong. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘I'm rather worried about him, you see. He's been drinking too much vodka, Lili. I see him sometimes in the bars. And when he's drunk, he talks too much. It's always dangerous. People listen.'

She said, alarmed, ‘What does he say?'

‘Oh, he rambles on, like drunks do. Not too keen on the Russians, is he? I can understand that, but it's wiser to keep one's mouth tightly shut.'

She wondered if Dirk had rambled on about her and how much Nico himself had listened.

He went on, ‘He's still doing his little deals, of course. Some not so little.'

‘He doesn't tell me what he does.'

‘Well, he should be careful these days. Pass that on from me. The east sector police are very vigilant. And quite unpleasant. Did you hear what happened to Michael on Christmas Eve? Poor chap, they locked him up in a cell. They thought he was a black-marketeer.
Michael
, of all people! The most upright and honest chap I know. Ridiculous! Fortunately, they discovered that he had my business card in his wallet and I was able to vouch for him.'

‘I'm sure he was grateful.'

‘I happened to know the Russian in charge there rather well, otherwise things might have been a bit tricky. I've warned Michael not to go wandering about this sector at night any more.' He smiled his toad's smile at her. ‘Of course, I can see the attraction right in front of me, and I don't blame him, but it can be very dangerous.'

‘I expect he realizes it now.'

‘No, I don't think he does. He doesn't quite understand that Berlin is not like London, or like any other city in the world. That
nobody
is safe – not even an officer in the Royal Air Force.'

She said, ‘If that's all, Nico . . .'

‘Don't worry, I'm going now. But you'll warn Dirk to be more careful, won't you?' He picked up his hat and gloves. ‘And Michael, too.'

He could tell from the way her face lit up that she was awfully glad to see him, and that gave him hope. She looked so pale, he thought. So small and thin and fragile and dressed in such pathetically worn and shabby clothes. In the living room there was yet another hole in the ceiling with a tin bucket placed strategically beneath it. ‘The hole is too big to fill with newspaper,' she told him, ‘but the bowl will catch the leaks.'

The whole room looked worse than ever – even more squalid and depressing. Harrison faced her grimly. ‘You can't go on living here, Lili. It's simply not on.'

‘Not on? What does that mean?'

‘It means I won't let you.' He went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘You asked for time to think and I've given it to you. Weeks of time. Now, I want an answer.' She turned her head away and he turned it back firmly. ‘Look, Lili. It's very simple. I love you and I want you to be my wife. I swear that I'll do everything in my power to make you happy.'

‘But would I make
you
happy?'

‘You can't imagine how much.'

‘In spite of everything?'

‘
Because
of everything. Every single thing about you. There's nothing that I'd want to change.
Nothing.
Do you understand?' She nodded and he waited a moment and then went on. ‘So, will you, or won't you?' He shook her gently, ‘Answer me, Lili. And the answer had better be yes.'

People who said that the English were cold and unfeeling had got it all wrong. When he had finally let her go, he had made her sit down at the table and held her hands in his and told her that he would make all the arrangements for them to be married as soon as possible. While he had talked she had watched his face and seen how happy he was, how the stern look had vanished completely, how tender the expression was in his eyes. ‘I've never thought to ask before,' he'd said, ‘but what religion are you?'

‘We were brought up as Roman Catholics,' she'd told him. ‘But it's years since I have attended Mass. There's been nowhere to go.'

‘I'm Church of England, I'm afraid. But I don't see that mattering, do you? We're both Christian, we just belong to different clubs. We could have a civil wedding – unless you don't like the idea?'

‘I don't mind.'

‘Nor do I. Simpler to arrange and no fuss.'

‘I have nothing to wear.'

He'd laughed at that. ‘It doesn't matter a damn what you wear, Lili. Not to me. You could wear an old sack for all I'd care. But, if you like, we'll try and find you something special. There must be some pretty frocks somewhere in Berlin. And pretty hats.'

‘The hats are here. My mother's – in the trunk over there.' She'd opened it and shown him the beautiful treasure store and tried several on for him to approve, until he had chosen the one he'd liked best. And then he'd begun to kiss her again.

‘Where will we live?' she'd asked when she could speak.

‘Well, I'll try to wangle a bit of leave for a honeymoon and take you to England. We'll go somewhere you're bound to like – Cornwall, probably. I know a terrific place where we used to go on holidays when I was a child – a fishing village on the south coast. And there's a nice old inn there where we could stay. There'd be plenty of good fish to eat and Cornish butter and cream – we'd fatten you up in no time.'

‘Like a pig?'

He'd smiled and stroked her hair. ‘No, nothing like a pig. Just making you fit and strong again. You'll love it in Cornwall. The scenery's beautiful and the sea air's wonderful. We can go for long walks . . . you do like walking, don't you?'

‘I've never really done that – except for walking in the Tiergarten.'

‘I bet you'll enjoy it. It'll be spring by the time we get there and so the weather should be warming up and all the flowers coming out.'

‘Primroses? Like on the teacups?'

‘Yes, primroses. Lots and lots of them.'

‘I should like to see them. They look so beautiful.'

‘They are. They grow all along the country lanes and paths. We have a rather nice saying in English – the primrose path. It means the easy, pleasant way. Doing only things that make you happy, that you enjoy.'

‘It sounds so wonderful. But I can't imagine that any more.'

He'd kissed her hands. ‘I'll find a primrose path for you, Lili, I promise.'

She'd said to him, half-serious, half-teasing: ‘For you it should be easy. You were a pathfinder in the war – isn't that so? That's what you were called.'

‘How did you know?'

‘Nico told me. He said you were amazingly brave and devoted to duty – those were his words. I remember very well.' She'd sighed. ‘And so, when we have been to England and seen the beautiful primroses, you must come back to Berlin? It will be your duty?'

‘I'm afraid so. Until I get another posting.'

‘What would I do?'

‘Well, I'll try to find a place for us near Gatow, off-station, if it's possible – somewhere with enough room for Dirk as well. And for Rudi and your grandfather when they come back. When the time comes for us to go to England, I'll arrange for Rudi to go to a good school there and for your grandfather to go into a nursing home close by so you can visit him every day.'

‘And Dirk?'

‘Don't worry, I'll talk to Dirk and sort out what's best for him. What he wants to do. I'll make sure that he's all right.'

All at once, it had seemed quite simple; she had been agonizing over nothing. Everything was going to be fine. Then he'd asked suddenly about the scar on her forehead – touched it and asked how she'd got it. When the bomb had hit the house, she'd blurted out in panic. It had happened then. He had asked no more questions and so she had had no need to tell any more lies.

He'd frowned and clicked his tongue. ‘I've forgotten something. A ring. You must have an engagement ring, but God knows where we'll find one.'

Here, under Dirk's bed, she'd thought to herself wryly. ‘It doesn't matter. I don't need a ring.'

‘Yes, you do.' He'd tugged at the gold signet ring on his little finger. ‘This will have to do until I can buy you a proper one in London.' It was too big for her fourth finger and so he'd slid it on to the middle one of her left hand and then kissed each finger in turn. And then her mouth for even longer. They might have ended up on the couch if he hadn't finally stopped and smiled and said he'd better leave before anything like that happened. With him, it would have been so different. But perhaps, then, he would have guessed the truth about her? What would she say if he ever asked, straight out? Would she be able to lie to him as easily as she had lied about the scar?

She looked at the ring now, holding her hand up in front of her to see it gleam in the dim electric light. It felt heavy on her finger. There was an engraving of a swan with wings half outstretched. His family crest, he'd told her when she'd asked about it. His parents had given it to him when he'd come of age. It had belonged to his grandfather once. What would this so-respectable and respected family think of her?