London Match (48 page)

It is liberating to be in love, and Gloria showed ail the exhilaration that dedicated love provides. But to be loved is something quite different. To be loved is to suffer a measure of tyranny. For some the sacrifice comes easily, but Gloria could be possessive in a single-minded way that only the very young and the very old inflict upon their loved ones. She couldn't understand why I hadn't invited her to live with me permanently in my home in Duke Street. She resented every evening I didn't spend with her. When she was with me she resented the hours I spent reading, because she felt it was a pleasure we couldn't share. Most of all, she resented the trips abroad I had to make, so that I often deferred telling her about them until the last moment.

'Back to Berlin,' she said peevishly when I told her. We were standing in the kitchen after Zena and Werner had gone back to their hotel.

'It's not my idea,' I said. 'But Berlin is my desk. There's no one else who can go in my place. If I put it off this week, I've have to go next week.'

'What's so urgent in Berlin?'

'Nothing is urgent there. It's all routine, but some of the reports can't be adequately covered in writing.'

'Why not?' There was something, some anxiety in her voice that I didn't recognize. I should have been warned by that but I prattled on.

'It's better to listen at length over a glass of beer. Sometimes the asides are more valuable than the report itself. And I have to see Frank Harrington.'

'One long booze, is it?'

'You know I don't want to go,' I said.

'I don't know anything of the kind. I hear you talking about Berlin with such love and tenderness that it makes me jealous. A woman can't compete with a city, darling.' She smiled a cold and unconvincing smile. She was not good at hiding her emotions; it was one of the things I found attractive about her.

'It's where I grew up, sweetheart. When Werner and I get together, we talk of our childhood. Doesn't everyone reminisce when they see old school friends again? It was my home.'

'Of course they do, darling. You don't have to be so defensive about such a dirty old whore. How can I really be jealous of an ugly, chilly heap of bricks?'

'I'll be back as soon as I can,' I said. Before switching off the hall and kitchen lights, I switched on the lights at the top of the stairs.

It was dark, the glimmer of light just enough to make a halo round her pale yellow hair. As I turned to speak with her she flung her arms round me and kissed me furiously. I could never get used to embracing this young woman who was almost as tall as I am. And when she hugged me there was a strength within her that I found exciting. She whispered, 'You do love me, don't you?' I held her very tight.

'Yes,' I said. I'd given up denying it. The truth was that I didn't know whether I loved her or not; all I knew was that I missed her dreadfully when I wasn't with her. If that wasn't love, I'd settle for it until love arrived. 'Yes, I love you.'

'Oh, Bernard, darling' — her cry of joy was almost a shout.

'You'll wake the children,' I said.

'You're always so frightened of waking the children. We won't wake them, and if we do, they'll go back to sleep again. Come to bed, Bernard. I love you so much.'

We tiptoed upstairs and past the children and the nanny. Once in the bedroom I suppose I should have switched on the overhead light, but I went to the bedside table to switch on that light instead. That's why I stumbled over the large and heavy suitcase that had been left at the foot of the bed. I lost my balance and fell full length to the floor with enough noise to wake up the whole street.

'What the bloody hell is that?' I shouted, sitting on the carpet and rubbing my head where I'd cracked it against the bedstead.

'I'm sorry, darling,' said Gloria. She switched on the bathroom light to see better and helped me to my feet.

'What is it? Did you leave it there?' I didn't want to be helped to my feet; I just wanted her not to make the bedroom into an obstacle course.

'It's mine,' she said in a whisper. For a moment she stood looking at me and then went into the bathroom and began putting cream on her face to remove her makeup.

'Good God, woman! Where did it come from?'

For a long time she didn't reply, then she pushed the door open and said, 'It's some things of mine.' She'd taken off her sweater and her bra. She washed her face and began brushing her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror over the sink as if I wasn't there.

'Things?'

'Clothes and books. I'm not moving in, Bernard, I know you don't want me to move in with you. The case is there only until tomorrow; then it will be gone.' She had taken the toothbrush from her mouth so that she could speak and now she stood looking at herself in the mirror, talking as if to her own image and making the promise to herself.

'Why did you have to leave it in the middle of the bedroom? Why bring it up here at all? Couldn't it go under the stairs?' I started to undress, throwing my clothes on the chair. One shoe hit the wall with more force than I intended.

She finished in the bathroom and reappeared, wearing a new frilly nightdress I hadn't seen before. 'The bathroom is all yours,' she said. And then, 'Mrs Dias, your cleaning woman, has to get into that cupboard under the stairs to get the vacuum cleaner.'

'So what?'

'She'd ask me what it was, wouldn't she? Or ask you what it was? And then you'd fuss about it. I thought it was better in here. I put it under the bed; then I had to get some things from it. I meant to push it back under the bed again. I'm sorry, darling. But you're a difficult man.'

'It's okay,' I said, but I was annoyed and unable to conceal my annoyance.

This silly accident with her suitcase spoiled the mood for both of us. When I came from the bathroom she was curled up in bed, the pillow over her head, and facing away. I got into bed and put an arm around her shoulders and said, 'I'm sorry. I should have looked where I was going.'

She didn't turn to face me. Her face was in the pillow. 'You've changed lately, Bernard. You're very distant. Is it something I've done?'

'Nothing you've done.'

'Is it Dicky? He's been like a bear with a sore head these last few days. They say he's given up his lady friend.'

'You know he was seeing Tessa Kosinski?'

'You told me,' said Gloria. She was still talking to her pillow.

'Did I?'

'A friend of Daphne's saw them in a hotel. You told me all that. I know you were worried about it.'

'It was madness.'

'Why?' she said. She turned her face towards me. She knew the answer, but she wanted to talk.

'Tessa is the sister of an intelligence official who is now working for the KGB. It would be okay for Dicky to have normal social contact with her. It would be okay for Dicky to be seeing her in the course of his job. But treason and infidelity have too much in common. Dicky was meeting Tessa secretly, and that sort of thing makes Internal Security very very nervous.'

'Is that why he gave her up?'

'Who told you he gave her up?'

'Sometimes I think you don't even trust me, Bernard.'

'Who told you he gave her up?'

A big sigh. 'So
she
gave
him
up.'

'Why did you think it was his idea?'

'Falling over suitcases makes you paranoid, did you know that, darling?'

'I know that, but answer my question anyway.'

Gloria stroked my face and ran a finger over my mouth. 'You've just told me that Dicky had everything to lose from the relationship. Naturally I concluded that he would be the one to end it.'

'And that's the only reason?'

'He's a man; men are selfish. If they have to choose between their job and a woman, they'll get rid of the woman. Everyone knows how men are.' It was of course a reference to her fears about me.

'Tessa gave Dicky the push, but Dicky likes to tell it his way: strong-willed Dicky who knows what's best for both of them and brokenhearted Tessa trying to put the pieces of her life back together.'

'He is like that, isn't he,' said Gloria. 'He's the worst sort of male chauvinist pig. Does Tessa really love him?'

'I shouldn't think so. I don't think she knows whether she loves him or not. I suppose he amuses her; that's all she asks. She'd go to bed with almost anyone she found amusing. Sometimes I think perhaps Tessa Is incapable of loving anyone.'

'That's a rotten thing to say, darling. She adores you and you've told me a thousand times that you could never have managed without all the help she's giving you.'

'That's true, but we were talking about love.'

'I suppose you're right. Love is different.'

'They're not in love, Dicky and Tessa,' I said. 'If they were really in love, there would be nothing that could keep them apart.'

'Like me pursuing you?' She hugged me.

'Yes, like that.'

'How could your wife have let you go? She must be mad. I adore you so much.'

'Tessa saw Fiona,' I said suddenly, I hadn't meant to tell her, but she was involved. It was better that she knew what was happening. There always came a point at which the job and one's personal life overlapped. It was one of the worst things about the job, telling lies and half-truths about everything. For a womanizer I suppose these things come more easily.

'Your wife came here?'

'They met in Holland, at their aunt's house.'

'What did your wife want?'

'It was the aunt's birthday. Both sisters visit her every year to celebrate it.'

'She didn't go just for that, Bernard; she wanted something.'

'How do you know?'

'I know your wife, Bernard. I think about her all the time. She wouldn't go to Holland to visit her aunt and see her sister except for a very good reason. She must have wanted something. Not a departmental something — there would have been other ways to tackle that; something from you.'

'She wants the children,' I said.

'You mustn't let them go,' said Gloria.

'Just for a holiday, she said. Then she'll send them back.' I was still trying to convince myself that it was as simple as that. I was half hoping that Gloria would encourage that belief, but she didn't.

'What mother could send her children back, not knowing when she'll see them again, if ever? If she goes to such trouble to arrange to see them, she'll never want to give them up again.'

Gloria's opinion didn't make me feel good. I felt like getting up and having another drink, but I resisted the idea; I'd had enough already. That's what I think,' I said. 'But if she goes through the courts for custody, she might well get them. I'm going to get a legal opinion about it.'

'Are you going to tell your father-in-law?'

'I just can't decide. She's asking politely, and only asking that they go on holiday with her. If I refuse that request, a court might see that as refusing reasonable access. That would count against me if she pursued the matter and wanted custody.'

'Poor darling, what a worry for you. Tessa told you this last week when you went there for drinks?'

'Yes,' I said.

'You've been in a rotten mood ever since. I wish I'd known. I was worried. I thought perhaps . . .'

'What?'

'You and Tessa,' said Gloria.

'Me and Tessa?'

'You know how much she'd like to get you into bed.'

'But
I
don't want to go to bed with
her
,' 1 said.

'Now who's shouting loud enough to wake up the children?'

'I like Tessa, but not like that. And anyway, she's married to George. And I've got you.'

'That's what makes you so interesting to her. You're a challenge.'

'Nonsense.'

'Did you tell Werner about Fiona meeting Tessa? Did you tell him she wants the children?'

'No.'

'But Werner's your best friend.'

'He couldn't help. He'd only worry himself sick. I didn't think it was fair to burden him with it.'