lobby.
He spotted who had come to see him immediately. If the clothes were different, a dark-blue suit instead of grey, she was as well dressed and groomed as she had been the last time he had seen her clearly; the back of a car and dressed like a stevedore did not count.
‘Fräulein Ephraim?’ he said, softly.
She had been facing the lift and staircase, sat on the edge of a couch, and his surreptitious approach startled her so much she spun around in alarm, making him wonder if, in her mind, she was suddenly back in her own country worrying about a visit from the Gestapo. That faded quickly as she composed her features and stood up.
‘Please Elsa call me,’ she replied, in accented English.
‘I didn’t know you spoke our language.’
‘I do not well, Herr Jardine.’ The grin with which he responded was only partly to dismiss such a comment; the other part was a genuine feeling that he was with a very attractive girl. ‘I ask Herr Lanchester to telephone me when you arrive in London, if you arrive in London, zhat is.’
‘I’m sure he could not wait to place the call.’
She smiled herself then and that softened features he had thought to be somewhat stiff, the normal look a girlof her age would employ in the presence of anyone older. ‘He is very push, your Herr Lanchester.’
‘So he did not advance to Peter?’
That got a real smile. ‘No.’
Seeing the night porter hovering he asked, ‘Will you join me in a drink?’
‘I came to thank you only.’
The way she said that struck a false note. ‘Which does not debar you from accepting a glass of champagne, surely.’ Seeing the hint of reserve, the tightening of the cheeks, he added quickly, ‘To celebrate your deliverance and mine, of course.’
‘That would be most kind, but—’
‘Your father and mother are well?’ Jardine interrupted, a ploy both to stop her refusal and to let her know that he understood that there were constraints on how she could behave. ‘Not to mention your brothers.’
The toss of the head, which threw her long black hair to one side, was enchanting. The well-defined black eyebrows, plucked to a perfect arch, went up as well, to dismiss as pests her three male siblings. ‘My brothers, phut!’
He took her elbow and led her deeper into the hotel lounge, to a pair of couches on either side of a low coffee table, guiding her to one side while he sat on the other, the night porter having followed at his signal. Jardine knew they had a Sekt on the wine list, but he suspected a German sparkling wine might not be welcome: better to stick to France and safety.
‘Veuve Clicquot, please,’ looking at her to ensure it was an acceptable choice. ‘Now Fräulein, while I am delightedyou have come to call upon me, I suspect that gratitude, which could have been expressed in a note, is not your sole reason for coming here.’
She knew how to sit, her back ramrod-straight, her knees slightly turned to one side, but she did not know how to dissimulate, so her response was blurted out, showing a loss of composure.
‘I want to help.’ A questioning look made her continue. ‘I can not here sit in London while my fellow Jews are hunted animals in Germany.’
The waiter arrived, on his tray two glasses and the bottle sticking out of an ice bucket. Jardine told him to leave it then waited till he had gone. ‘Does your father know you are here?’
‘ Nein .’
Jardine grinned, the lapse into her native tongue was telling. Was what she said the truth or just an excuse? He had seen the way she looked at him in Hamburg and, not being without a certain degree of vanity, there was the possibility that Elsa saw him as some kind of knight in shining armour, while he also had the distinct impression she was a wilful creature. Smiling in a way that made her uncomfortable, he lifted up the champagne and exposed the cork. Cloth in hand he then opened it expertly, holding tight the cork and turning the base of the bottle so that it
He spotted who had come to see him immediately. If the clothes were different, a dark-blue suit instead of grey, she was as well dressed and groomed as she had been the last time he had seen her clearly; the back of a car and dressed like a stevedore did not count.
‘Fräulein Ephraim?’ he said, softly.
She had been facing the lift and staircase, sat on the edge of a couch, and his surreptitious approach startled her so much she spun around in alarm, making him wonder if, in her mind, she was suddenly back in her own country worrying about a visit from the Gestapo. That faded quickly as she composed her features and stood up.
‘Please Elsa call me,’ she replied, in accented English.
‘I didn’t know you spoke our language.’
‘I do not well, Herr Jardine.’ The grin with which he responded was only partly to dismiss such a comment; the other part was a genuine feeling that he was with a very attractive girl. ‘I ask Herr Lanchester to telephone me when you arrive in London, if you arrive in London, zhat is.’
‘I’m sure he could not wait to place the call.’
She smiled herself then and that softened features he had thought to be somewhat stiff, the normal look a girlof her age would employ in the presence of anyone older. ‘He is very push, your Herr Lanchester.’
‘So he did not advance to Peter?’
That got a real smile. ‘No.’
Seeing the night porter hovering he asked, ‘Will you join me in a drink?’
‘I came to thank you only.’
The way she said that struck a false note. ‘Which does not debar you from accepting a glass of champagne, surely.’ Seeing the hint of reserve, the tightening of the cheeks, he added quickly, ‘To celebrate your deliverance and mine, of course.’
‘That would be most kind, but—’
‘Your father and mother are well?’ Jardine interrupted, a ploy both to stop her refusal and to let her know that he understood that there were constraints on how she could behave. ‘Not to mention your brothers.’
The toss of the head, which threw her long black hair to one side, was enchanting. The well-defined black eyebrows, plucked to a perfect arch, went up as well, to dismiss as pests her three male siblings. ‘My brothers, phut!’
He took her elbow and led her deeper into the hotel lounge, to a pair of couches on either side of a low coffee table, guiding her to one side while he sat on the other, the night porter having followed at his signal. Jardine knew they had a Sekt on the wine list, but he suspected a German sparkling wine might not be welcome: better to stick to France and safety.
‘Veuve Clicquot, please,’ looking at her to ensure it was an acceptable choice. ‘Now Fräulein, while I am delightedyou have come to call upon me, I suspect that gratitude, which could have been expressed in a note, is not your sole reason for coming here.’
She knew how to sit, her back ramrod-straight, her knees slightly turned to one side, but she did not know how to dissimulate, so her response was blurted out, showing a loss of composure.
‘I want to help.’ A questioning look made her continue. ‘I can not here sit in London while my fellow Jews are hunted animals in Germany.’
The waiter arrived, on his tray two glasses and the bottle sticking out of an ice bucket. Jardine told him to leave it then waited till he had gone. ‘Does your father know you are here?’
‘ Nein .’
Jardine grinned, the lapse into her native tongue was telling. Was what she said the truth or just an excuse? He had seen the way she looked at him in Hamburg and, not being without a certain degree of vanity, there was the possibility that Elsa saw him as some kind of knight in shining armour, while he also had the distinct impression she was a wilful creature. Smiling in a way that made her uncomfortable, he lifted up the champagne and exposed the cork. Cloth in hand he then opened it expertly, holding tight the cork and turning the base of the bottle so that it
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