‘She’s never met him in her life. She sympathized with me about his club foot. Young lad’s as fit as a fiddle. Wouldn’t know a club foot if he saw one. Well, all this is of interest but I’m afraid only academic interest.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Giacomo said. ‘It’s of more than academic interest to me.’ He was, as always, smiling, but in •the circumstances, it was difficult to say what he was smiling about. ‘However, as a matter of academic interest, I’m totally in agreement with those kids – sorry, I mean Sarina and Michael. I don’t want to fight -1 mean I don’t want to fight in those damned mountains; the Aegean and the Royal Navy will do me very nicely, thank you – but if I have to it’ll be with the Partisans.’
‘You’re like Jamie,’ Petersen said. ‘If you’re going to fight anybody it’s going to be the Germans?’
‘I think I made that pretty clear to you back in the Hotel Eden.’
‘You did. It’s still only a matter of academic interest. What are you going to do about it? How do you intend going about joining your guerrilla friends?’
Giacomo smiled. ‘I’ll wait for a break.’
‘You could wait for ever.’
‘Peter.’ There was a note of appeal, almost desperation, in Harrison’s voice. ‘I know you owe us nothing, that you have no responsibility for us any more. But there must be a way. However different our philosophies, we’re all in this together. Come on, Peter. We could settle our differences afterwards. Meantime-well, a man of your infinite resources and-‘
‘Jamie,’ Petersen said gently. ‘Can’t you see the fence down the middle of this room. George, Alex and I are on one side. You five are on the other. Well, you, the von Karajans and Giacomo are. I don’t know about Lorraine. It’s a mile high, that fence, Jamie, and not for climbing.’
‘I see his point, Captain Harrison,’ Giacomo said. ‘The fence is not for climbing. Besides, my pride wouldn’t let me try it. I must say, Major, it’s not like you to leave loose ends lying around. Lorraine, here. Doesn’t she fit into a category? For our edification, I mean.’
‘Category? I don’t know. And not to give you offence, Lorraine, but I don’t really care now. It doesn’t matter. Not any more.’ He sat down, glass in hand, and said no more. As far as anyone could tell, Major Petersen had, for the first time in their experience, lapsed into a brooding silence.
It was a silence, punctuated only by the occasional glug-glug as George topped empty wineglasses, that stretched on and uncomfortably on, until Lorraine said suddenly and sharply: ‘What’s wrong? Please, what’s wrong?’
‘Speaking to me?’ Petersen said.
‘Yes. You’re staring at me. You keep on staring at me.’
‘Being on the wrong side of a fence doesn’t stop a man from having good taste,’ Giacomo said.
‘I wasn’t aware of it,’ Petersen said. He smiled. ‘Besides, as Giacomo said, it’s no hardship. I’m sorry. I was a long long way away, that’s all.’
‘And speaking of staring,’ Giacomo said cheerfully, ‘Sarina’s no slouch at it either. Her eyes haven’t left your face since you started your Rodin the thinker bit. There are deep currents, hereabouts. Do you know what I think? I think she’s thinking.’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Giacomo.’ She sounded positively cross.
‘Well, I suppose we’re all thinking one way or another,’ Petersen said. ‘Heaven knows we’ve plenty to think about. You, Jamie, you’re sunk in a pretty profound gloom. The bright lights? No. The white cliffs? No. Ah! The lights of home.’
Harrison smiled and said nothing.
‘What’s she like, Jamie?’
‘What’s she like?’ Harrison smiled again, shrugged and looked at Lorraine.
‘Jenny’s wonderful,’ Lorraine said quietly. ‘I think she’s the most wonderful person in the world. She’s my best friend and James doesn’t deserve her. She’s worth ten of him.’
Harrison smiled like a man who was well-pleased with himself and reached for his wineglass; if he was wounded, he hid it well.
Petersen looked away until his eyes lighted casually on Giacomo, who nodded almost imperceptibly: Petersen smiled slightly and looked away.
Twenty more minutes passed, partly in desultory conversation but mainly in silence, before the door opened and Edvard entered. ‘Major Petersen?’
Petersen rose. Giacomo made to speak but Petersen forestalled him. ‘Don’t say it. Thumb-screws.’
He was back inside five minutes. Giacomo looked disappointed. ‘No thumb-screws?’
‘No thumb-screws. I would like to say that they’re bringing out a rack and that you’re next. No rack. But you’re next.’
Giacomo left. Harrison said: ‘What was it like. What did they want?’
‘Very humane. Very civilized. What you would expect of Crni. Lots of questions, some very personal, but I just gave them name, rank and regiment, which is all you’re legally required to give. They didn’t press the matter.’
Giacomo was back in even less time than Petersen. ‘Disappointing,’ he said. ‘Very disappointing. They’d never have made the Spanish Inquisition. The courtesy of your presence, Captain Harrison.’
Harrison was away a little longer than either but not much. He returned looking very thoughtful. ‘You’re next, Lorraine.’
‘Me?’ She stood and hesitated. ‘Well, if I don’t go I suppose they’ll come for me.’
‘It would be most unseemly,’ Petersen said. ‘We’ve survived. What’s a lion’s den to an English girl like you?’
She nodded and left, but left reluctantly. Petersen said: ‘How was it, Jamie?’
‘An urbane lot, as you say. Seemed to know a surprising amount about me. No questions that had any military bearing that I could see.’
Lorraine was absent for at least fifteen minutes. When she returned she was rather pale and although there were no tears on her cheeks it seemed clear that she had been crying. Sarina looked at Petersen, Harrison and Giacomo, shook her head and put her arm round Lorraine’s shoulders.
‘They’re a gallant lot, aren’t they, Lorraine? Chivalrous. Concerned.’ She gave them a withering glance. ‘Maybe they’re just shy. Who’s next?’
‘They didn’t ask to see anyone.’
‘What did they do to you, Lorraine?’ , ‘Nothing. Do you mean – no, no, they didn’t touch me. It was just some of the questions they asked . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Please, Sarina, I’d rather not talk about it.’
‘Maraschino,’ George said authoritatively. He took her by the arm, seated her and proffered a small glass. She took it, smiled gratefully and said nothing.
Crni came in accompanied by Edvard. He was, for the first time anyone had seen, relaxed and smiling.
‘I have some news for you. I hope you will find it good news.’
‘You’re not even armed,’ George said. ‘How do you know we won’t break every bone in your bodies? Better still, use you as hostage to escape? We are desperate men.’
‘Would you do that, Professor?’
‘No. Some wine?’
‘Thank you, Professor. Good news, at least I think it’s good news, for the von Karajans, Captain Harrison and Giacomo. I am sorry that we have been guilty of a small deception but it was necessary in the circumstances. We are not members of the Murge Division. We are, thank heavens, not even Italians. We are just common-or-garden members of a Partisan reconnaissance group.’
‘Partisans.’ There was no excitement in Sarina’s voice, just incomprehension tinged with disbelief.
Crni smiled. ‘It’s true.’
‘Partisans.’ Harrison shook his head. “Pon my soul. Partisans. Well, now. I mean. Yes.’ He shook his head then his voice rose an octave. ‘Partisans!’
‘Is it true?’ Sarina had Crni by the arms and was actually shaking him. ‘Is it true?’
‘Of course it’s true.’
She searched his eyes as if searching for the truth, then suddenly put her arm around him and hugged him. She was very still for a moment then released him and stepped back. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
He smiled. ‘There’s no regulation that says that a young recruit, female, may not hug an officer. Not, of course, to make a practice of it.’
‘There’s that, too, of course.’ She smiled uncertainly.
‘There’s something else?’
‘No, not really. We’re terribly glad to see you.’
‘Glad?’ Harrison said. ‘Glad!’ The initial shock absorbed, he was in a state bordering on euphoria. ‘Nothing less than a merciful providence has sent you our way!’
‘It wasn’t a merciful providence, Captain Harrison. It was a radio message. When my commanding officer says “move”, I move. That’s the “something else” you wouldn’t talk about, Miss von Karajan. Your fears are groundless. Military regulations don’t allow me to shoot my boss.’
‘Your boss?’ She looked at him, then Petersen, then back at Crni. ‘I don’t understand.’
Crni sighed. ‘You’re quite right, Peter. You, too Giacomo. No espionage material among this lot. If there were they wouldn’t have to be hit over the head with the obvious. We’re both Partisans. We’re both in intelligence. I am the ranking subordinate officer. He is the deputy chief. I’m sure that makes everything clear.’