Free The Swiss Spy by Alex Gerlis

that working for the cause in the way they were
meant there was no room whatsoever for discussion: without total commitment and
utter loyalty, they would fail.
    Never question; never discuss; never hesitate.
    And along with this there were individual sessions. Henry
spent hours with first an elderly German man and then a younger Polish woman. They
were intent on teasing anything personal out of him. The German man seemed to
be a psychiatrist of some sort, asking a series of apparently unrelated
questions and making extensive notes. He seemed to be preoccupied with Henry’s
relationship with his mother.
    Everything about the Polish woman looked severe: her
manner, the heavy glasses and the way her hair was pulled into a tight bun. She
insisted he tell her everything about his personal life. Had he ever had a
girlfriend, for instance? Henry had blushed and muttered something about there
being one or two, but nothing serious. Had he ever slept with a woman, she
asked – or a man? Henry was so shocked that he readily told the truth. No, he
had never slept with a woman. The thought of sleeping with a man, he said, had
simply never occurred to him.
    That night he lay in bed, unable to sleep as he
tried to make sense of what was happening to him. He felt trapped, drawn into a
life he’d never have willingly chosen, but one which did at least offer some
prospect of excitement. He had just drifted to sleep when he was woken by
someone sitting on his bed and turning on the bedside lamp. It was the Polish
woman. Her hair was now loose and she’d lost her glasses, and was wearing
bright red lipstick and perfume that smelt of lemons. Henry found himself unable
to say anything.
    She leant over and brushed his face with her hand then
gently pulled his head towards hers and kissed him. ‘How can we let you go out
into the world and not know what to do with a woman?’ she said softly. ‘That
would be… risky.’
    Henry opened his mouth to speak, but she placed a
finger inside his lips, holding it in there for a few moments before pulling it
slowly away. She stood up and removed her dressing gown so she was totally
naked. Then she stood still for a moment, her eyebrows raised, inviting Henry
to look at her, silhouetted by the bedside lamp. Through a gap in the curtain
on the other side of the bed, the light of the moon lit up the front of her
body.
    Had she not remained with Henry for an hour after
they had made love, he would have readily passed it off as one of his more
pleasant dreams. But they lay there together and every time he tried to say
something, which he felt he ought to do, she placed a finger on his lips and
shook her head – her long hair brushing his bare shoulders. As the first hint
of dawn peered through the half drawn curtains, she climbed out of bed and got
dressed. ‘We never discuss this, you understand? This was something you needed
to do: there is a saying that there are more secrets to be found in a bed than
in a safe. For your first time you were quite good Henry, but next time
remember you don’t need to rush so much. Try not to think about what you’re
doing: it will come naturally, it’s the most natural thing we do. At least next
time won’t be your first.’
    Henry was confused, but at the same time quite
pleased with himself.
    Never question; never discuss; never hesitate.
    On his penultimate day at the farm, Henry was
walking with Peter and Foxi in the woods, when the German turned to him and
handed him a pistol.
    ‘Shoot her,’ he said, pointing at the puppy.
    ‘What!’ The puppy’s eyes looked up at him, full of
joy.
    ‘The longer you wait the harder it will be.’
    Henry fiddled around with pistol, hoping that at any
moment Peter would stop him.
    ‘Get on with it. You do as I tell you.’
    Henry felt himself drift into a trance and, as if
from above, he saw himself call Foxi over and cuddle her, allowing her to lick
his face before placing the barrel of the gun behind her ears and pulling