Free The Contract by Gerald Seymour Page B

they fllung themselves through the front door, Ulf stumbling with the weight of his canvas issue grip bag. Running down the stairs because it was always too long to wait for the lift, running and hoping that they met no one, running into the night air and feeling the draught of the wind catch at their laces.
    Hand in hand on the pavement and then the girl's hesitation, she pulling one way, he another.
    'We should take the U-Bahn to Alexander Platz, then the S-Bahn. . .'
    'We don't have time, we have to run to the S-Bahn.' Ulf's anger rose as the cool of the evening sobered him.
    'It is quicker to go to Schilling Strasse and the U-Bahn.'
    'We have to go direct to the S-Bahn.' Ulf shouting his argument and using his strength till the girl allowed herself to be pulled. Ulf sprinting and the bag handle cutting at his palm, its bulk banging against his knee.
    Jutte beside him with the long and sleek stride. Where did the girl find the speed ? Where did she find it after what she had done to him on her mother's bed? Down Lichtenberge Strasse, past the great edifices of the blocks of flats, past the blank windows, past the drawn curtains, past the emptied play grounds with the children's apparatus. Feet hammering on the pavement, echoing and raucous. Down to Holzmark Strasse. No one on the street to impede them, cars only distant and no hazard. Running across the road where there were pedestrian crossing lights, running on the pavements. Heaving chests and her breasts bouncing in the movement, his hand aching at the weight of the bag.
    Into the station of Jannowitzbrucke. Change hands. Diving down the wide staircase. Ulf bringing from his pocket a handful of coins, Jutte scratching in her purse. Two twenty-pfennig coins into the machine.
    More stairs and corridors that carried the heavy, uncleansed tunnel odour. What betting that the first would be on the Kopenick and Erkner line, not the Schoneweide track? The platform deserted. Only the two young people to make their own
    company. The tall boy in the uniform of the Border Guard of the National Volks Armee, the grey cloth fitting him well, the trousers hanging true to their creases, the sharp green of the epaulette and wrist ribbon. The clean-faced girl, athletic and slender, who hung on his arm and gazed up at his face and whose fair hair was long and loose and casual. Both pouring huge, heaving breaths into the cold night air.
    Ulf looked again at his watch.
    'Don't do it,' she said.
    'Perhaps there is still a chance . . .'
    'Perhaps . ..'

    The train sounded its approach, deep in the black well of the tunnel, taunting them with the slowness of its approach. Coming slowly, coming at its appointed speed.
    'Is there a chance?'
    'Perhaps . . .' Her breathing had subsided and her breastsl were still and the nipples pushing at the wool of her sweater and the boy wanted nothing more than to bury his face against her and feel her warmth and the gentle scent of her body. ' I think it is not possible. But we will try, lover, we will try to send you back to Weferlingen.' She laughed lightly.
    The train came slowly, steadily into the station. No one leaving, only the young couple joining. A stop of a few seconds and the doors were closing on them. Alone in the carriage with the wooden slat walls and the advertisements for mouth rinses and savings policies, into the tunnel darkness, the strangling tunnel, rocking and swaying. Jutte sat very close to her boy. Thigh to thigh, her hand linked under his arm and resting on his knee, her head at his shoulder. Out from the tunnel and into the night.
    The crisp rattle of the wheels on the rails. A drugging, soporific rhythm.
    'Ulf.'
    He was thinking only of how he would spend the time before the early morning train. 'Yes.'
    'Did I tell you that I have an uncle that lives in Hamburg?'
    'You told me.'
    'Well it is not actually Hamburg, that is where his factory is. He lives in Pinneburg which is on the autobahn to Hamburg.'
    'You told me.'
    'He came to