Exposure (13 page)

‘No,' his wife answered. ‘She was completely taken in by him. My nationality had been established by then and I was working for Alfred. Millions of documents were destroyed during the bombing, mine were lost at Frankfurt, but my parents' marriage certificate helped to prove I was who I said. So I was released from the camp. I didn't know Koenig inside – there were thousands of us – but I did know Phyllis Lowe. She was a nice woman—'

‘She was a fool,' the Major interrupted. His wife reproved him quietly; they were in a dialogue that excluded Ben and Julia, reliving their own past. ‘She was in love with him,' she said. ‘Crazy in love, she wouldn't listen to anyone.'

‘In love with Koenig?' Julia asked. ‘Were they lovers?'

‘Of course they were,' Grant said irritably. ‘They made a fool of me to start with. She was nearly forty and he must have been around twenty-five – six. She convinced me he was a poor stray with a traumatic past – dragged out of his home when his parents were shot, working as a slave labourer on a farm, hunted like an animal with all the other poor devils when the Russians invaded. She wanted to take him out of the camp, educate him, and give him a chance of a new life. A lot of the DPs settled in Europe if they couldn't get to the States, for example. I believed her.

‘She was so damned convincing, and I knew she had a reputation for hard work on behalf of the refugees. She was well liked and respected. So I recommended he be released in her surety. He'd never given any trouble, he seemed a decent lad. Very respectful, rather gauche. I interviewed him several times. He told the same story as Phyllis did. The Fräulein had been so kind, she was like a mother. I remember the swine squeezed out a few tears on one occasion.

‘It was put up between them, but I didn't find that out till later. As soon as he left the camp, they were living openly together.'

‘Did she educate him – I read somewhere she employed a local man to teach him English?' Ben asked.

‘Huh – she did indeed. She spent money like water on him. She got clothes for him, she scrounged and bribed for cigarettes – she even had the cheek to ask me for Players because he liked them! And didn't he change his spots, eh, Gerda?'

‘Yes,' his wife said, ‘he did. He was arrogant, greedy, and he even humiliated the poor woman. She seemed to like it. He'd go round the cafés boasting about his rich English mistress and how she did exactly what he wanted. Alfred had a serious talk with her, didn't you, darling – he tried to point out that she was making a complete fool of herself, that the man was exploiting her. And what did she say to you?'

‘She said she had never been so happy in her life, and I didn't understand her Hans, as she called him. “He's young and full of life, and whatever you say, he loves me. I know he does.” And then she told me she was going to marry him and take him to England.'

He sighed, as if he had exhausted himself, reliving the past. For a moment there was silence, his wife looked at Julia and nodded, as if to say, please, that's enough.

Julia stood up, ‘Major Grant, we mustn't keep you any longer. Just one more question. Did she marry him?'

‘Yes,' he answered. ‘She did. She was a civilian, you see, and we had no jurisdiction, or I could have stopped her. She married him six months after he got out of the camp, resigned from UNRRA and said they were going to England. She did come and say goodbye to me, at least.

‘“We're going to be so happy,” she said to me. “I'll keep in touch Alfred.” But she never did. We never heard of her again.'

‘Thank you very much, sir,' Harris shook the thin hand. ‘You've been a great help.'

The Major said, ‘Are you writing this book together?'

‘Collaborating on it,' Ben answered.

‘Goodbye, Major Grant, and take care of yourself.' Julia didn't shake hands with him; he looked as if he'd fall asleep as soon as they left. In the hall she turned to his wife.

‘I do hope it hasn't been too much for him,' she said. ‘He looked so tired.'

Gerda Grant shook her head. ‘He's old,' she said. ‘We both are. But we have our two sons and grandchildren, and we've had a happy life together. It wasn't easy for Alfred being married to a German. But we loved each other and that's what mattered.'

‘What was she like – Phyllis Lowe – to look at?'

‘Very handsome. Very smart. I think she was an upper-class English lady – a lot like her came to work for UNRRA. Sophisticated and superior to him in every way. But she was blind, quite blind. I wonder what happened to her, when they got to England.'

‘I wonder, too,' Julia said. ‘Goodbye and thank you. I hope your husband goes on well.'

They walked to the car in silence. Ben started the engine.

‘Well,' he said at last. ‘That was a turn up for the book!'

The last person to use that phrase was a betting-mad friend of her father's.

‘No wonder we couldn't find a death certificate,' Julia answered. ‘We'll get on to that right away. She'd have been Koenig, that's why we drew a blank. Ben, you realize we've sent out teams looking for everything under the name of Lowe – come on, let's get back to the hotel – I can call through to the office.'

‘He married her,' Ben muttered, the car picking up speed, ‘to get to England. But why lie? What's he got to hide, J?'

‘Something more than making a fool of a woman old enough to know better. Very convenient, getting cancer, leaving him a bit of money …'

‘You think she did die, then?'

‘Yes, but I'll be very interested to see that death certificate.' She looked at him and said suddenly, ‘They were a sweet old couple, weren't they? You forget there are people around like that.' He didn't answer. Julia felt she had unwittingly touched a sore spot. He put up a tough front, but that failed marriage had left a scar.

The girl called Minna nodded. ‘He said it,' she insisted. ‘He said they had found something.'

He had gone home at lunch-time, and she had come over from the Bauhaus. His wife had left them together in the sitting room. She never concerned herself with her husband's activities for the Veterans, and she knew Minna's father was an old comrade. She hoped the family wasn't in trouble. If they were, her man would sort it out.

‘You've got the names?'

‘Here.' She passed him a slip of paper.

‘Describe them to me,' he said.

‘The man was around forty or so – dark, wore glasses – the woman was younger than him. She had very red hair, she was pretty and she had expensive clothes.'

‘Good,' he said. He consulted the scrap of paper. Minna had copied all the details on the form. ‘Staying at the Nessenberghof,' he muttered. ‘I can make a few enquiries. Leni is a friend of my wife's – I can see the hotel register. Thank you, Minna. Always watchful.'

‘Always loyal,' she finished the motto for him. ‘I must go, or I'll be late.'

She looked at him silently, a fresh-faced, attractive young woman who had been born twenty years after the war ended. She gave the forbidden salute. Slowly, he returned it. Then the door closed behind her.

Julia put down the telephone. ‘They've got to go back over the same ground. One thing did come up, though,' she frowned, looking at her own scribbled shorthand notes. ‘There's an elderly couple next door to the house where Phyllis Lowe lived with King. They remember a young man and a much older woman moving there. My team has it all on tape. Ben, I think we should fly back, there's nothing more we can do here.' She stood up and stretched a little. He noticed how full her breasts were as she made the movement.

He said, ‘Let's stay tonight. I'll show you Munich. We could fly out in the morning.'

‘We could,' Julia agreed. ‘All right, let's do that. I'll call through and book the flights.'

‘I'll do it,' he said briskly. ‘Do you drink beer, J?'

‘Not if I can help it,' she laughed at him.

‘You can't go to Munich and not go to a
bier keller,'
he said. ‘See you downstairs at six.'

It was a new experience for Julia. The city was beautiful, rebuilt after its travails during the war; there was an atmosphere of gaiety as evening approached. The shops were brightly lit and crammed with goods. The cafés and bars and beer halls were full of Bavarians setting out to enjoy themselves. She was struck by how many of them were dark, far removed from the blond Aryan ideal which had been born in that very place over half a century ago. Ben took her to a
bier keller
as he'd promised. It was hot, smoky and noisy, but the good spirits of the people round them were infectious. A group at a nearby table started to sing, and soon everyone was joining in, steins banging in rhythm on the tables.

‘It's crazy,' she said to Ben. ‘It's like a Hollywood movie – but don't they know how to enjoy themselves!'

‘We came to the Oktoberfest one year with the kids,' he said. ‘They loved it. The whole place goes wild, drinking, singing, wearing national costume. You'd never think Nazism started here, would you?'

‘No,' she said, brought down to earth suddenly. ‘No, you wouldn't.'

He stood up. ‘I think you've had enough beer, so let's move on to something more civilized.'

She took his arm as they came out into the street. ‘I enjoyed that, I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Where are we going now?'

‘To the Bernerhof,' he said, and he looked down at her and smiled. ‘From the ridiculous to the sublime, depending how you look at it. The best food and wine in Bavaria.' She didn't let go of his arm as they walked.

They sat in the bar and had drinks while they studied the menu. A pianist was playing sentimental sixties music, the lights were low, the atmosphere relaxed and leisurely.

The women were elegant and the men very different from the boisterous beer drinkers in the
bier keller
. It was low key, luxurious and subtly sensual as if to say, Everything is here for your pleasure. Whatever form that pleasure takes, it's our pleasure to provide it! They dined in a cubicle in the restaurant; it was intimate and they sat close. She drank more wine than she intended and revelled in the rich food.

When the coffee, frothing with cream, was brought to them, she said to Ben, ‘I haven't had a cigarette for ten years. I'm going to have one now.'

‘I know the feeling,' he answered. ‘That's what this place does to you. You feel you're king of the world, and you can do what you like, and to hell with it. You look very pretty.'

He was not looking at her when he said it. She could feel his body against hers on the cushioned seat.

He hadn't touched her, not even her hand as it lay on the table. He didn't need to; his desire suddenly ignited hers, and she said softly, ‘Never mind the cigarette. Why don't we spend the night here?'

He half turned to her, and then put his hand on her face and raised it. He kissed her slowly, not like Felix, with his importunate tongue and greedy technique, but in gentle exploration.

Then he said, ‘Are you sure, J? Are you sure it's what you want?' She laid two fingers on his mouth. ‘After what you've just done, I'm sure.'

When he undressed her, he said simply, ‘You're beautiful. I want to look at you.' She saw their naked reflections in the big gilt mirror on the wall opposite the bed, and turned round for him, pivoting slowly until he caught hold of her and they sprawled on the bed, locked in a frenzy of desire.

It was a long night. They made love and slept and then made love again. She thought hazily, as she drifted into an exhausted, sated sleep, Felix was a boy. I've been with a man.

When she woke in the morning, he was already up. She could hear sounds in the bathroom. He came out wearing a towelling robe.

‘I let you sleep,' he said. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. He took hold of her hands and held them.

‘If you're sorry about last night, we can forget about it. No strings.'

‘No strings,' Julia agreed. ‘You'd already booked the room, hadn't you?'

‘Yes,' he admitted. ‘Just in case. I've wanted you for years – ever since you walked into that office looking like a scared kid on your first day. I wouldn't admit it to myself. But I mean it. I'll back off if you want me to.'

She took her hands away and leaned back on the pillows. She sighed.

‘Oh Ben, you are a bloody fool.' She smiled at him and held out her arms. ‘I don't mind missing breakfast, if you don't.'

As the plane began its descent to Heathrow, Julia glanced at him. He had closed his eyes, stowed his glasses away in his breast pocket. I must get him a case to put them in, she thought. Nobody's looked after the details for him for a long time.

She loved flying; she leaned forward to watch the ground coming up to meet them. It exhilarated her to anticipate the touchdown, the force of braking and the smooth transition from hundreds of miles an hour to a gentle taxiing across the runway.

She nudged him gently. ‘Ben – Wake up. We've landed.'

He opened his eyes. ‘I wasn't asleep, just dozing. I'm shagged out, and it's all your fault.' He unbuckled her seat-belt for her.

‘You look sensational,' he murmured. ‘How is an old man like me going to cope?'

‘You don't have any problems,' Julia whispered back. ‘Come on, I want to see what's on that tape.'

Ben Harris eased her out into the gangway. ‘I think we're going to make a very good team. You're a pro, J. And so am I.'

They set off for the Western building, with Julia driving. As they eased into the reserved parking space, she turned to him.

‘Thank you for taking me to see Munich,' she said. ‘It was all wonderful.'

‘Thank you for coming with me.' He turned her face up to him and gave her a firm, short kiss on the lips.