you see.â
âReally?â
âDonât you remember?â
He shrugged. âIt was a long time ago.â
âYou rescued me from Conway and Turner and that lot. They were indulging in their idea of a little amusing sport, sticking my head down the lavatory and pulling the chain . . . You came along and put a stop to it. Sent them all packing. Surely you havenât forgotten?â
âIâm afraid so.â Heâd always cracked down hard on any bullying but he couldnât recall that particular episode. Unfortunately, the Armenian had been pretty unpopular.
âWell, it was nothing much to you, I suppose, but it meant a hell of a lot to me and I donât forget things like that. So, if I can ever do anything for you, you have only to ask. By the way, howâs that charming elder sister of yours? I remember her coming to Speech Days. All of us chaps fancied her.â
He hated even to speak of it: âShe was killed in the Blitz. With her two sons.â
âI say, old chap, Iâm frightfully sorry. How ghastly! Simply tragic. Your parents must have been awfully cut up.â
So was I, he thought. So was I.
He picked up one of the Volkswagon Beetle taxis in the British sector and tried to shrug off his black mood during the ride out to Gatow. The transvestite singer seemed to him to epitomize the cruel vileness of Berlin and he had an unpleasant feeling that all the way along the line, from the seedy café to the Leichtsâ apartment to Der Kellar , he had been made a fool of.
Four
Harrison put his encounter with Nico Kocharian and the Leichts out of his mind. There was plenty to occupy him on the station. The number of Dakotas ferrying in supplies had been increased and so had the ways in which the Russians were making a nuisance of themselves. There were more stoppages on the only railway line into Berlin, with freight wagons being detached because their labels were supposedly incorrect. On the canals, barges loaded with perishable goods were held up for days while their papers were processed at a snailâs pace by the Russian authorities.
Meanwhile, Intelligence reports warned of more Soviet troops patrolling the zone frontiers.
In the Officersâ Mess, Tubby Hill shook his head gloomily. âTheyâve got us by the short and curlies, Michael, and they know it. Thereâs not a thing we can do.â
âWe can bring in a great deal more stuff by air.â
âSo you said before, dear boy, and again, I say, nowhere near enough. The new runwayâs not even finished yet and we can barely handle the present traffic. And the Yanks are no better off. Itâs a lost cause.â
âItâs not like you to give up without a fight, Tubby. You were all for hanging on like grim death.â
âIâm getting too old for these war games, thatâs the truth. Iâm ready to settle for a quiet life, pottering about the garden, spraying the roses and doing The Times crossword.â
âI donât believe it.â
âWait and see. Iâll be first in the queue when they start ferrying us out.â
âYou really think we should leave the Berliners to their fate? Let the Russians just walk in and take over?â
âThree years ago you were busy bombing the city out of existence, dear boy, and with gusto. They deserved everything they got â those were your very words, I believe.â
âAnd I meant them. But this isnât the same situation at all, Tubby. We won the war and with it the right to be here. If we donât stand up to the Russians now, where will it end? They wonât just stop at taking Berlin, theyâll want the rest of Germany. And then what next? You said so yourself. The Iron Curtain will be on our doorstep. Weâve got to stay.â
âI know, but itâs easier said than done. Picture the scene if they choose to blockade us completely. No food, no fuel, no raw