Free The Pathfinder by Margaret Mayhew

same frisson he had felt then, aged about seventeen. It could have been Marlene herself. He listened, captivated. To his ears, German usually sounded harsh and rather ugly, but not when it was delivered like this. As he joined in the thunderous applause at the end, Nico Kocharian leaned towards him. ‘I thought you’d enjoy it, Michael, old chap.’
    The performer sang several more German songs which were unknown to him and, finally, ‘Lili Marlene’. For this she left the stage and moved among the tables. When she reached the group of Americans she paused and switched suddenly to English for their benefit, circling their table slowly.
    The Americans were lapping it up, grinning and clapping and the audience were laughing. She’s mocking them, Harrison thought, watching her sway from one Yank to the next, picking up their drinks, sipping from each glass, stroking their hair, draping herself across their laps. Playing with them. Showing them up – though they don’t realize it. Her route back to the stage took her by Harrison’s chair. She spotted his uniform and, again, she stopped and caressed his cheek with her hand; he could feel the sharpness of her long red fingernails. Up close, he saw how heavy her make-up was: the patches of rouge on her cheeks, the lipstick thick and glistening, the false eyelashes jutting like long black spikes. ‘Royal Air Force.’ She bent to hiss the words low and her eyes gleamed at him; he read amused malice in their depths.
    After another number and two encores she finally left the stage to roars and whistles and the spotlight was switched off again.
    â€˜Pretty good, eh, Michael, didn’t you think?’
    â€˜Yes, she was very clever.’
    â€˜You didn’t realize?’
    â€˜Realize what?’
    â€˜Helene is a bloke, old chap. I happen to know him rather well. He’s very amusing. Amazing legs, hasn’t he? Far better than most women. You’re looking quite shocked.’
    He was annoyed to find himself reddening. Christ, how could he not have known! ‘I’m not in the least shocked.’
    â€˜The Germans love all sorts of variations. Helene is very tame stuff. I could take you to some places that would probably make your hair stand on end. Every perversion known to man.’
    He got to his feet again. ‘I can well believe it. And now, I really must get back.’
    â€˜If you insist . . . I’ll take you to the Gate. You’ll be able to pick up one of your free taxis there.’
    For two pins he would have told the chap to shove off – one way and another he’d had more than enough of his company – but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remember the way back to the British sector and it would certainly be foolish to go wandering about Berlin at night. It started to rain as they walked along dark, deserted streets. Harrison thought he had never been in a more ghastly city. All the evil, all the hatred and terror and cruelty and suffering and misery seemed to lurk in every corner, to cling to every stone and every brick. He wondered if Berlin could ever be cleansed of its hideous past. They turned into the long, wide street that he recognized as the Unter den Linden and to his relief he saw the dark mass of the Brandenburg Gate ahead. Just beyond it lay the British sector.
    â€˜We must meet up again, Michael,’ Kocharian said.
    â€˜I doubt that will be possible. I’m kept pretty busy.’
    â€˜Yes, the Soviets will make sure of that. They’ll be tying you up in knots if you don’t watch out. You have to remember that they didn’t go to English public schools and that they think quite differently. I gave you my card, didn’t I? Keep it safe, just in case you need anything.’
    He didn’t answer. He had no intention of doing so, or of ever seeing the chap again if he could help it.
    â€˜I owe you a good turn from our schooldays,