Free Debut for a Spy by Harry Currie Page B

think we take each day when it comes. I feel for you something very special, and maybe a little frightening. They warn us about personal involvement when we are in other countries, and I am afraid I am sent back if anyone knows about this. But two things help us. The first is I become your liaison with our embassy for both cruise ship and concert, and so it looks not strange for us to meet. The second is I pretend to our people that what looks like romance is only to win you over – that it becomes one-sided and I only pretend. And they will believe me.”
    “ Why should they? Won't they suspect something?”
    “ No. And here you must trust me without question, if you want to see me. You can do this?”
    I looked at her intensely. “Yes.”
    Her eyes were serious but there was a smile on her lips.
    “Then we enjoy what we find, David Baird, and don't look too far for tomorrow. It comes, and who can know what it brings?”
    *
    We drove gradually back to Twickenham, arriving at Kneller Hall just after 7. I left Marijke with Archie while I changed, and I was glad that I was able to escort her to the dignitaries area and sit with her while I waited my turn to conduct. The concert was splendid, from the opening fanfare played by the Kneller Hall Trumpeters, through the pageantry of a visiting Highland band, and various solos and selections performed and conducted by both visitors and students. My piece went well, and I enjoyed the experience immensely. When I had returned to my seat, Marijke took my hand in the dark and squeezed it, and that was better than a hundred compliments.
    When the concert was over there was a reception in the mess, and necessity forced Marijke and me to spend time apart, talking to various guests. Somewhere about 11:30 she managed to extricate herself and find me, only to tell me that the embassy had sent a car for her, and that for appearances she should take it and be driven back to her flat.
    “Go to the ladies' room, and then come to the museum,” I whispered. “I'll be waiting.” For the second time that day she found me there alone, and for the second time that day we kissed amidst musical history.
    “ I couldn't let you go without saying good night,” I said, holding her close. “When will I see you?”
    She handed me a slip of paper with a telephone number on it.
    “Please, you call me.”
    “ Is it safe? Are your calls monitored?”
    She smiled. “There is no problem. Play the game we talk about today, and everybody believes us. I must go now.”
    She walked to the stairs leading out of the museum, then turned to me.
    “ Do svidania , David Baird,” she said softly, and then she was gone.
    *
    Driving home later, my mind was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Only two days before I had not given the Soviet Union more than a passing thought, and now I was entangled with them like the twists of a bramble bush. I felt very confused. Turning on the radio, I sought the soothing distraction of music, but nothing seemed to penetrate my fog. Even Mozart has his limitations.
    I parked the car, waved at the night porter as I passed, and took the lift up. Stepping into my flat, I had a sense of foreboding. Something was not right. Not again, I thought, remembering my visitor of the day before. A night light was on in the hall, and I could see that Kate's door was open. Invariably when she was in her own flat the door was closed. What was wrong? I snapped on some lights, walked into the living room, and started as I saw her in a corner on the floor, sitting with her arms around her legs, rocking back and forth.
    “Kate, what's the matter? What's happened?” I ran to her.
    She appeared to come to, as if in a trance.
    “David,” she said wildly, “they're… gone!”
    She was racked with a fit of sobbing. I reached for her and held her, afraid to ask the next question.
    “Who's gone, Kate?”
    She choked on each word. “The plane… Mom… Dad… everything! No… survivors!