She left him and went upstairs to see to Jo. The boy was asleep, lying on his teddy bear with his arms outflung. She kissed his soft cheek and tucked him in. She went outside and put the jeep in the barn.

She made herself a drink in the kitchen, then sat watching Henry, wishing he would wake up and make love to her again.

IT WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT when he woke. He opened his eyes, and his face showed the series of expressions that were now familiar to her: first the fear, then the wary survey of the room, then the relaxation. On impulse, she asked him, "What are you afraid of, Henry?" when he woke. He opened his eyes, and his face showed the series of expressions that were now familiar to her: first the fear, then the wary survey of the room, then the relaxation. On impulse, she asked him, "What are you afraid of, Henry?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You always look frightened when you wake up."

"I don't know." He shrugged, and the movement seemed to hurt. "G.o.d, I'm battered."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Yes, if you'll give me a drink of brandy."

She got the brandy out of the cupboard. "You can have some of David's clothes."

"In a minute...unless you're embarra.s.sed."

She handed him the gla.s.s, smiling. "I'm afraid I'm enjoying it."

"What happened to my clothes?"

"I had to cut them off you. I've thrown them away."

"Not my papers, I hope." He smiled, but there was some other emotion just below the surface.

"On the mantelpiece." She pointed. "Is the knife for cleaning fish or something?"

His right hand went to his left forearm, where the sheath had been. "Something like that," he said. He seemed uneasy for a moment, then relaxed with an effort and sipped his drink. "That's good."

After a moment she said, "Well?"

"What?"

"How did you manage to lose my husband and crash my jeep?"

"David decided to stay over at Tom's for the night. Some of the sheep got into trouble in a place they call The Gully-"

"I know it."

"-and six or seven of them were injured. They're all in Tom's kitchen being bandaged up and making a terrible row. Anyway, David suggested I come back to tell you he would be staying. I don't really know how I managed to crash. The car is unfamiliar, there's no real road, I hit something and went into a skid and the jeep ended up on its side. The details..." He shrugged.

"You must have been going quite fast-you were in an awful mess when you got here."

"I suppose I rattled around inside the jeep a bit. Banged my head, twisted my ankle..."

"Lost a fingernail, bashed your face, and almost caught pneumonia. You must be accident-p.r.o.ne."

He swung his legs to the floor, stood up and went to the mantelpiece.

"Your powers of recuperation are incredible," she said.

He was strapping the knife to his arm. "We fishermen are very healthy. What about those clothes?"

She got up and stood close to him. "What do you need clothes for? It's bedtime."

He drew her to him, pressing her against his naked body, and kissed her hard. She stroked his thighs.

After a while he broke away from her. He picked up his things from the mantelpiece, took her hand, then, hobbling, he led her upstairs to bed.

30.

THE WIDE WHITE AUTOBAHN SNAKED THROUGH THE Bavarian valley up into the mountains. In the leather rear seat of the staff Mercedes, Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt was still and weary. Aged sixty-nine, he knew he was too fond of champagne and not fond enough of Hitler. His thin, lugubrious face reflected a career longer and more erratic than that of any of Hitler's other officers: he had been dismissed in disgrace more times than he could remember, but the Fuehrer always asked him to come back. Bavarian valley up into the mountains. In the leather rear seat of the staff Mercedes, Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt was still and weary. Aged sixty-nine, he knew he was too fond of champagne and not fond enough of Hitler. His thin, lugubrious face reflected a career longer and more erratic than that of any of Hitler's other officers: he had been dismissed in disgrace more times than he could remember, but the Fuehrer always asked him to come back.

As the car pa.s.sed through the sixteenth-century village of Berchtesgaden he wondered why he always returned to his command when Hitler forgave him. Money meant nothing to him; he had already achieved the highest possible rank; decorations were valueless in the Third Reich; and he believed that it was not possible to win honor in this war.

It was Rundstedt who had first called Hitler "the Bohemian corporal." The little man knew nothing of the German military tradition, nor-despite his flashes of inspiration-of military strategy. If he had, he would not have started this war, which was unwinnable. Rundstedt was Germany's finest soldier, and he had proved it in Poland, France and Russia; but he had no hope of victory.

All the same, he would have nothing to do with the small group of generals who-he knew-were plotting to overthrow Hitler. He turned a blind eye to them, but the Fahneneid Fahneneid, the blood oath of the German warrior, was too strong in him to permit him to join the conspiracy. And that, he supposed, was why he continued to serve the Third Reich. Right or wrong, his country was in danger, and he had no option but to protect it. I'm like an old cavalry horse, he thought; if I stayed at home I would feel ashamed.

He commanded five armies on the western front now. A million and a half men were under his command. They were not as strong as they might be-some divisions were little better than rest homes for invalids from the Russian front, there was a shortage of armor and there were many non-German conscripts among the other ranks-but Rundstedt could still keep the Allies out of France if he deployed his forces shrewdly.

It was that deployment that he must now discuss with Hitler.

The car climbed the Kehlsteinstra.s.se until the road ended at a vast bronze door in the side of the Kehlstein Mountain. An SS guard touched a b.u.t.ton, the door hummed open, and the car entered a long marble tunnel lit by bronze lanterns. At the far end of the tunnel the driver stopped the car, and Rundstedt walked to the elevator and sat in one of its leather seats for the four-hundred-foot ascent to the Adlerhorst, the Eagle's Nest.

In the anteroom Rattenhuber took his pistol and left him to wait. He stared unappreciatively at Hitler's porcelain and went over in his mind the words he would say.

A few moments later the blond bodyguard returned to usher him into the conference room.

The place made him think of an eighteenth-century palace. The walls were covered with oil paintings and tapestries, and there was a bust of Wagner and a huge clock with a bronze eagle on its top. The view from the wide window was truly remarkable: one could see the hills of Salzburg and the peak of the Untersberg, the mountain where the body of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa waited, according to legend, to rise from the grave and save the Fatherland. Inside the room, seated in the peculiarly rustic chairs, were Hitler and just three of his staff: Admiral Theodor Krancke, the naval commander in the west: General Alfred Jodl, chief of staff; and Admiral Karl Jesko von Puttkamer, Hitler's aide-decamp.

Rundstedt saluted and was motioned to a chair. A footman brought a plate of caviar sandwiches and a gla.s.s of champagne. Hitler stood at the large window, looking out, with his hands clasped behind his back. Without turning, he said abruptly-"Rundstedt has changed his mind. He now agrees with Rommel that the Allies will invade Normandy. This is what my instinct has all along told me. Krancke, however, still favors Calais. Rundstedt, tell Krancke how you arrived at your conclusion."

Rundstedt swallowed a mouthful and coughed into his hand. "There are two things: one new piece of information and one new line of reasoning," Rundstedt began. "First, the information. The latest summaries of Allied bombing in France show without doubt that their princ.i.p.al aim is to destroy every bridge across the river Seine. Now, if they land at Calais the Seine is irrelevant to the battle; but if they land in Normandy all our reserves have to cross the Seine to reach the zone of conflict.

"Second, the reasoning. I have given some thought to how I would invade France if I were commanding the Allied forces. My conclusion is that the first goal must be to establish a bridgehead through which men and supplies can be funneled at speed. The initial thrust must therefore come in the region of a large and capacious harbor. The natural choice is Cherbourg. Both the bombing pattern and the strategic requirements point to Normandy," he finished. He picked up his gla.s.s and emptied it, and the footman came forward to refill it.

Jodl said, "All our intelligence points to Calais-"

"And we have just executed the head of the Abwehr as a traitor," Hitler interrupted. "Krancke, are you convinced?"

"I am not," the admiral said. "I too have considered how I would conduct the invasion if I were on the other side-but I have brought into the reasoning a number of factors of a nautical nature that our colleague Rundstedt may not have comprehended. I believe they will attack under cover of darkness, by moonlight, at full tide to sail over Rommel's underwater obstacles, and away from cliffs, rocky waters, and strong currents. Normandy? Never."

Hitler shook his head in disagreement.

Jodl then said, "There is another small piece of information I find significant. The Guards Armored Division has been transferred from the north of England to Hove, on the southeast coast, to join the First United States Army Group under General Patton. We learned this from wireless surveillance-there was a baggage mix-up en route, one unit had another's silver cutlery, and the fools have been quarreling about it over the radio. This is a crack British division, very blue-blooded, commanded by General Sir Allen Henry Shafto Adair. I feel sure they will not be far from the center of the battle when it comes."

Hitler's hands moved nervously, and his face now twitched in indecision. "Generals!" he barked at them, "either I get conflicting advice, or no advice at all. I have to tell you everything-"

With characteristic boldness, Rundstedt plunged on. "My Fuehrer, you have four superb panzer divisions doing nothing here in Germany. If I am right, they will never get to Normandy in time to repel the invasion. I beg you, order them to France and put them under Rommel's command. If we are wrong, and the invasion begins at Calais, they will at least be close enough to get into the battle at an early stage-"

"I don't know-I don't know!" Hitler's eyes widened, and Rundstedt wondered if he had pushed too hard-again.

Puttkamer spoke now for the first time. "My Fuehrer, today is Sunday-"

"Well?"

"Tomorrow night the U-boat may pick up the spy. Die Nadel."

"Ah, yes, someone someone I can trust." I can trust."

"Of course he can report by radio at any time, though that would be dangerous-"

Rundstedt said, "There isn't time to postpone decisions. Both air attacks and sabotage activities have increased dramatically. The invasion may come any day."

"I disagree," Krancke said. "The weather conditions will not be right until early June-"

"Which is not not very far away-" very far away-"

"Enough," Hitler shouted. "I have made up my mind. My panzers stay in Germany-for now. On Tuesday, by which time we should have heard from Die Nadel, I will reconsider the disposition of these forces. If his information favors Normandy-as I believe it will-I will move the panzers." Hitler shouted. "I have made up my mind. My panzers stay in Germany-for now. On Tuesday, by which time we should have heard from Die Nadel, I will reconsider the disposition of these forces. If his information favors Normandy-as I believe it will-I will move the panzers."

Rundstedt said quietly, "And if he does not report?"

"If he does not report, I shall reconsider just the same."

Rundstedt nodded a.s.sent. "With your permission I will return to my command."

"Granted."

Rundstedt got to his feet, gave the military salute and went out. In the copper-lined elevator, falling four hundred feet to the underground garage, he felt his stomach turn over and wondered whether the sensation was caused by the speed of descent or by the thought that the destiny of his country lay in the hands of a single spy, whereabouts unknown.

Part Six

31.

LUCY WOKE UP SLOWLY. SHE ROSE GRADUALLY, languidly, from the warm void of deep sleep, up through layers of unconsciousness, perceiving the world piece by isolated piece: first the warm, hard male body beside her; then the strangeness of Henry's bed; the noise of the storm outside, as angry and tireless as yesterday and the day before; the faint smell of the man's skin; her arm across his chest, her leg thrown across his as if to keep him there, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his side; the light of day beating against her eyelids; the regular, light breathing that blew softly across her face; and then, all at once like the solution to a puzzle, the realization that she was flagrantly and adulterously lying with a man she had met only forty-eight hours before, and that they were naked in bed in her husband's house. For the second time. languidly, from the warm void of deep sleep, up through layers of unconsciousness, perceiving the world piece by isolated piece: first the warm, hard male body beside her; then the strangeness of Henry's bed; the noise of the storm outside, as angry and tireless as yesterday and the day before; the faint smell of the man's skin; her arm across his chest, her leg thrown across his as if to keep him there, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his side; the light of day beating against her eyelids; the regular, light breathing that blew softly across her face; and then, all at once like the solution to a puzzle, the realization that she was flagrantly and adulterously lying with a man she had met only forty-eight hours before, and that they were naked in bed in her husband's house. For the second time.

She opened her eyes and saw Jo. My G.o.d...she'd overslept.

He was standing beside the bed in his rumpled pajamas, hair tousled, a battered rag doll under his arm, sucking his thumb and staring wide-eyed at his mummy and the strange man cuddling each other in bed. Lucy could not read his expression, for at this time of day he stared wide-eyed at most things, as if all the world was new and marvelous every morning. She stared back at him in silence, not knowing what to say.

Then Henry's deep voice said, "Good morning."

Jo took his thumb out of his mouth, said, "Good morning," turned around and went out of the bedroom.

"d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n d.a.m.n," Lucy said.

Henry slid down in the bed until his face was level with hers, and kissed her. His hand went between her thighs and held her possessively.

She pushed him away. "For G.o.d's sake, stop."

"Why?"

"Jo's seen us."

"So what?"

"He can talk, you know. Sooner or later he'll say something to David. What am I going to do?"

"Do nothing. Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters."

"I don't see why, the way he is. You shouldn't feel guilty."

Lucy suddenly realized that Henry simply had no conception of the complex tangle of loyalties and obligations that const.i.tuted a marriage. Any marriage, but especially hers. "It's not that that simple," she said. simple," she said.

She got out of bed and crossed the landing to her own bedroom. She slipped into panties, trousers and a sweater, then remembered she had destroyed all Henry's clothes and had to lend him some of David's. She found underwear and socks, a knitted shirt and a V-necked pullover, and finally-right at the bottom of a trunk-one pair of trousers that were not cut off at the knee and sewn up. All the while Jo watched her in silence.

She took the clothes into the other bedroom. Henry had gone into the bathroom to shave. She called through the door, "Your clothes are on the bed."

She went downstairs, lit the stove in the kitchen and put a saucepan of water on to heat. She decided to have boiled eggs for breakfast. She washed Jo's face at the kitchen sink, combed his hair and dressed him quickly. "You're very quiet this morning," she said brightly. He made no reply.

Henry came down and sat at the table, as naturally as if he had been doing it every morning for years. Lucy felt very weird, seeing him there in David's clothes, handing him a breakfast egg, putting a rack of toast on the table in front of him.

Jo said suddenly, "Is my daddy dead?"