'I wonder who decided to give them all proper markers with name, rank and unit.'

'It wasn't the Red Army,' said Werner, 'you can bet on that. I go past there sometimes. It's a memorial park nowadays. Moses Mendelssohn's grave is there and they've given him a new stone.'

'I suppose we shouldn't have followed him. He never forgave us for finding out his little secret. We weren't welcome in his cellar after that.' From the kitchen I heard the sound of the dishwasher starting. It was a very noisy machine and Gloria only switched it on when she was finished. The ladies are coming with more coffee,' I said.

'I'll talk to her,' said Werner, as if he'd been thinking of the Miller woman all the time. 'Maybe it will come to nothing, but I'll try.'

'Better do nothing, Werner. It's a departmental problem; let the Department solve it. No sense in you getting into trouble.'

'I'll sound her out,' said Werner.

'No, Werner. And that's an order.'

'Whatever you say, Bernie.'

'I mean it, Werner. Don't go near her.'

Then Gloria came in holding a jug of fresh coffee. She said, 'What have you men been talking about?'

'What we always talk about: naked girls,' I said.

Gloria thumped me between the shoulder blades before she poured out coffee for all four of us.

Zena Volkmann laughed; she was excited. She was hardly into the room before she said, 'Werner, Gloria has been showing me an antique American quilt that Bernard bought for her. Can we buy one, Werner dearest? Appliqué work – a hundred and fifty years old. I've got the address of the shop. They cost an absolute fortune, but it would look wonderful on our bed. It would be a sort of anniversary present for us.'

'Of course, my darling.'

'Isn't he a perfect husband?' said Zena, leaning over and cuddling Werner and planting a kiss on his ear.

'Remember what I said, Werner. For the time being, do nothing.'

'I remember,' said Werner.

'If you don't want that brandy, Werner, I'll drink it.'

23

Gloria expressed her love for me with such desperate intensity that I was frightened by it. Was it, I wondered, the unique passion that she wanted it to be? Was it the one and only chance for us both to find everlasting happiness? Or were these ideas just a measure of her youth? She could be so many different people: amusing companion, shrewd colleague, sulky child, sexy bedmate, and concerned mother to my two children. Sometimes I saw her as the fulfilment of all my hopes and dreams; at others I saw in her just a beautiful young girl balanced on the edge of womanhood and myself as a self-deluding middle-aged lecher.

It is liberating to be in love, and Gloria showed ail the exhilaration that dedicated love provides. But to be loved is something quite different. To be loved is to suffer a measure of tyranny. For some the sacrifice comes easily, but Gloria could be possessive in a single-minded way that only the very young and the very old inflict upon their loved ones. She couldn't understand why I hadn't invited her to live with me permanently in my home in Duke Street. She resented every evening I didn't spend with her. When she was with me she resented the hours I spent reading, because she felt it was a pleasure we couldn't share. Most of all, she resented the trips abroad I had to make, so that I often deferred telling her about them until the last moment.

'Back to Berlin,' she said peevishly when I told her. We were standing in the kitchen after Zena and Werner had gone back to their hotel.

'It's not my idea,' I said. 'But Berlin is my desk. There's no one else who can go in my place. If I put it off this week, I've have to go next week.'

'What's so urgent in Berlin?'

'Nothing is urgent there. It's all routine, but some of the reports can't be adequately covered in writing.'

'Why not?' There was something, some anxiety in her voice that I didn't recognize. I should have been warned by that but I prattled on.

'It's better to listen at length over a glass of beer. Sometimes the asides are more valuable than the report itself. And I have to see Frank Harrington.'

'One long booze, is it?'

'You know I don't want to go,' I said.

'I don't know anything of the kind. I hear you talking about Berlin with such love and tenderness that it makes me jealous. A woman can't compete with a city, darling.' She smiled a cold and unconvincing smile. She was not good at hiding her emotions; it was one of the things I found attractive about her.

'It's where I grew up, sweetheart. When Werner and I get together, we talk of our childhood. Doesn't everyone reminisce when they see old school friends again? It was my home.'

'Of course they do, darling. You don't have to be so defensive about such a dirty old whore. How can I really be jealous of an ugly, chilly heap of bricks?'

'I'll be back as soon as I can,' I said. Before switching off the hall and kitchen lights, I switched on the lights at the top of the stairs.

It was dark, the glimmer of light just enough to make a halo round her pale yellow hair. As I turned to speak with her she flung her arms round me and kissed me furiously. I could never get used to embracing this young woman who was almost as tall as I am. And when she hugged me there was a strength within her that I found exciting. She whispered, 'You do love me, don't you?' I held her very tight.

'Yes,' I said. I'd given up denying it. The truth was that I didn't know whether I loved her or not; all I knew was that I missed her dreadfully when I wasn't with her. If that wasn't love, I'd settle for it until love arrived. 'Yes, I love you.'

'Oh, Bernard, darling' – her cry of joy was almost a shout.

'You'll wake the children,' I said.

'You're always so frightened of waking the children. We won't wake them, and if we do, they'll go back to sleep again. Come to bed, Bernard. I love you so much.'

We tiptoed upstairs and past the children and the nanny. Once in the bedroom I suppose I should have switched on the overhead light, but I went to the bedside table to switch on that light instead. That's why I stumbled over the large and heavy suitcase that had been left at the foot of the bed. I lost my balance and fell full length to the floor with enough noise to wake up the whole street.

'What the bloody hell is that?' I shouted, sitting on the carpet and rubbing my head where I'd cracked it against the bedstead.

'I'm sorry, darling,' said Gloria. She switched on the bathroom light to see better and helped me to my feet.

'What is it? Did you leave it there?' I didn't want to be helped to my feet; I just wanted her not to make the bedroom into an obstacle course.

'It's mine,' she said in a whisper. For a moment she stood looking at me and then went into the bathroom and began putting cream on her face to remove her makeup.

'Good God, woman! Where did it come from?'

For a long time she didn't reply, then she pushed the door open and said, 'It's some things of mine.' She'd taken off her sweater and her bra. She washed her face and began brushing her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror over the sink as if I wasn't there.

'Things?'

'Clothes and books. I'm not moving in, Bernard, I know you don't want me to move in with you. The case is there only until tomorrow; then it will be gone.' She had taken the toothbrush from her mouth so that she could speak and now she stood looking at herself in the mirror, talking as if to her own image and making the promise to herself.

'Why did you have to leave it in the middle of the bedroom? Why bring it up here at all? Couldn't it go under the stairs?' I started to undress, throwing my clothes on the chair. One shoe hit the wall with more force than I intended.