catch her glance.
She wore a red silk gown with thin shoulder straps. It was cut very low both front and back and Hechler guessed that she wore little if anything underneath it.
She presented her hand for him to take and kiss. Even that was perfectly done. The perfume on her skin, it too he could recall as if it were yesterday.
Leitner was shaking hands with her escort, but Hechler did not even catch his name. It was as it nothing had happened, that the
fire still burned. The touch of her hand, the movement of her breasts which were barely concealed by the red silk, seemed to render him helpless.
He knew Theil and some of the others were watching. They were learning more about their captain every day. Why had she come?
She said softly, 'You look tired, Dieter. Doing too much.' She observed him calmly. 'As always.’ Her eyes moved to the girl. And who is this?'
Erika Franke met her gaze, unruffled by the casual but faintly imperious tone.
She replied, 'I work here.' She gave a quick smile. 'I shall go and enjoy myself.'
Inger watched her leave and said, 'That's the flier. I thought I knew her.' She seemed to relax. 'She's been in some bother, I believe.'
Hechler did not want to discuss it. 'I was not expecting -'
‘That is evident.' She smiled and touched his cheek but her eyes were quite cool. 'No matter. You are a man, a hero, some say.'
Leitner had moved away and was in deep conversation with her escort. The latter was staring across, unwilling to be shelved so soon.
Hechler felt the old anger again. Why should he have to put up with it?
Theil was watching too, although he was at some pains to cover it.
He heard himself ask, 'Why here and now, Inger? It's over.'
'You think so?' She rested one hand on his sleeve and touched the four gold stripes. 'You need me. You always will. Nothing's changed.' She seemed to become impatient and thrust her hand beneath his arm. 'Can we talk? In private?'
Hechler heard the lively dance strike up as another record was put on the gramophone and was grateful for the interruption. Voices grew louder and some of the guests began to revolve although there was barely room to move. Perspiring stewards and messmen pushed amongst the throng with laden trays of glasses. This evening was going to cost the wardroom a small lortune.
She said, 'Your cabin?' She looked up at him, her eyes steady, her lips shining, inviting.
They walked along the deck, the noise growing fainter as if the ship was reasserting herself, rising above them, grey steel and hooded guns.
Once she turned and looked across at the darkening water, the thin white line of a motor-launch's wake.
He asked, 'What about your friend?'
She shrugged. Even that motion stabbed him like a knife.
'Ludwig? He is head of a mission here, something to do with fisheries, I think. Don't worry about him.'
The cabin was quiet, with a tidiness which showed Pirk had been busy clearing up from the last official visitors. But there was some champagne and two glasses, as if it had all been planned. She saw his expression and said, Thank you, I should like some.'
He could feel her watching as he opened the bottle and wiped it free of ice. She never looked tired; he could not recall her ever refusing an invitation to a party or a reception. Like the time he had returned home with the knowledge he was being given Prinz Luitpold. He had been in bed reading when he had heard her come into the house, then the sound of men's voices.
When he had gone down he had found her in the arms of an artillery major, while another officer was on his knees beside a girl w'ho had obviously passed out with drink. The man had been tearing the clothes off her, stripping her naked while Inger and her friend ignored what he was doing.
Somehow, he could barely recall how, they had made it up. She had even been excited when he had thrown the others out of the house, had pleaded for his forgiveness and then given herself to him with such wild abandon that he
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