The Linden Tree Page 14

  Eventually I found myself beached on the steps of the town hall. In front of me, the market place was awash with excitement. The wine cask was being set up in the centre, the fifes and drums were in competition with a silver band, the hot and bothered master of ceremonies was trying to separate those who were taking part in the rehearsal from the onlookers.

  I no longer had any idea where among the crowds Nicolas might be. All I knew for certain was that he was here in Marberg, and that far from having come to rescue me, he refused even to acknowledge my existence. Scott had been right: even an ordinary friend would have taken more care of me.

  But perhaps Nicolas had been too preoccupied with something else to talk to me at that moment? I tried to think of excuses for him, of possible reasons for his blank stare. Perhaps he had been injured in some way and had lost his memory? Perhaps I ought to find him and try to help him?

  But the recollection of the brusque way he had shaken off my hand and pushed past me was a humiliating deterrent. If he hadn’t been prepared to recognize me then, he would not now. Nothing would induce me to seek another rebuff.

  Besides it was ludicrous to imagine that, with my problems, I could be of help to anyone.

  And yet I couldn’t tear myself away. If Nicolas was here, in the market place, I wanted to be near him. He might not want my help but I certainly needed his.

  The clock on the town hall struck twelve and the clocks from the town’s other towers echoed and answered. The rehearsal for the pageant seemed to be over. The bandsmen saved their breath for the afternoon, the main participants began to disperse, the wine cask was heaved back on the waggon and the oxen pulled it away. The market place began to empty of everyone except tourists.

  I lingered, standing full in the sunlight on top of the town hall steps. If Nicolas wanted to find me, he would have no difficulty.

  Apparently he didn’t want to find me.

  I stood there, desolate, until it seemed that a Vopo was beginning to take too much notice of me. Then, heartsick, I stumbled away.

  I had no idea where to find the path Scott and I had come up, but I recognized some of the American group and followed them, keeping at a distance. The last thing I wanted was company. My one idea was to get back to the privacy of the tent and it seemed that the Americans were returning to the camp. They took the main gate out of the town, followed the road down the hill and turned off along the lane that led to the site. I trailed after them, so numbed and dazed that at first I hardly noticed the man who was standing just outside the camp entrance.

  As soon as he saw me, he stepped forward. Once again, Kurt Braun had come to my rescue.

  There was no hesitation in his manner now, no trace of the original shyness. His face was weary, as though he had had very little sleep, but the tiredness seemed to lift with his smile of recognition and welcome.

  ‘I’ve come, my dear,’ he said, holding out both his hands.

  Relief and gratitude overwhelmed me. In that moment I saw that Kurt, with his greying hair and broad shoulders, represented exactly what I needed: help, stability, security. I clung to his outstretched hands as if they were a lifebelt.

  His look changed to one of anxiety. ‘Why – what’s the matter? You look as though you had seen a ghost.’

  He put a reassuring arm round me and led me to a bench beside the path, and for the moment I allowed myself the luxury of leaning on his shoulder. I felt limp with relief that at least my most urgent practical problem had been solved.

  Kurt had proved a magnificent friend. Now that he was here, I need have no more worries about getting out of East Germany. I was vaguely aware, as I sat in his comforting embrace that Scott Fletcher came past, saw us, hesitated and walked on; but my other problems were too great to allow me to acknowledge the boy just then, let alone involve myself in introductions.

  I pulled myself together and sat up. Kurt released me reluctantly, watching me with concern as he waited for my answer.

  ‘Thank goodness you’ve come, Kurt,’ I said shakily, pushing my hair back from my face. ‘I’ve been absolutely desperate for the past hour. Nicolas is here, in the town – I’ve seen him and touched him and spoken to him, but he just looked straight through me. I don’t understand!’

  Kurt frowned. ‘Here in Marberg? Are you absolutely sure? But I wasn’t able to get a message to him. That’s why I came to help you myself. He couldn’t possibly know you were here – you must be mistaken.’

  I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t be sure, at first. He was in a procession and wearing a hat that partly hid his face. But I went up close to him, as close as I am to you, and I know it was him! After all, I love him. You can’t mistake a man you love.’

  There was hurt in his eyes, but his voice was gentle and understanding. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you can’t. And this is what makes the situation so very much worse for you. It means, you see, that my suspicions were right.’ He took my unresisting hands in his. ‘My dear, I am very sorry.’

  ‘Sorry for what?’ I asked him blankly. ‘What suspicions are you talking about?’

  He tightened his grasp and answered slowly and quietly: ‘About your friend Nicolas Allen.’

  My mind was like a paperweight that had been shaken up to produce a snowstorm; everything whirled and eddied.

  ‘I – I don’t know what you mean,’ I stammered, pulling my hands away.

  He let out a long breath. ‘I mean … I hate to have to tell you this, but I mean that I think that Allen has tricked you. He has used you and then betrayed you.’

  I stared at him, horrified. ‘No!’ I cried. ‘How dare you say that! It’s not true, it can’t possibly be true …’

  But even as I said it, a cold sick feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that I was protesting too much.

  Kurt slid his arm along the back of the bench and rested his hand lightly and affectionately on my shoulder. ‘It’s hard for you to accept this, I know. But if we were in the West and you were the girl I loved –’ he hesitated for a moment, then went on, ‘– I would never dream of allowing you to go to East Germany illegally. The risk is too great. No one who really loved you would ask you to do it.’

  I bowed my head. I’d heard it all before, from Scott. I knew that it was true.

  ‘And then,’ Kurt went on, with soft-spoken but remorseless logic, ‘there is the mystery of why you were picked up in East Berlin. You played your part admirably – no one suspected that you were not the real Elisabeth. And no one mistrusted the real Elisabeth, or she would never have been given a permit to go to the West. Someone betrayed her – but betrayed her when she was safely on the other side. Someone wanted her to be kept over there, and was prepared to sacrifice you in order to do it.’

  I moved away from him, feeling my cheeks redden with angry incredulity. ‘But Nicolas would never have …’

  Kurt raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘No? My dear, he is an intelligence agent. He is clever, good at his job, dedicated to his career. But it’s not a career that allows room for emotional entanglements – I know that to my own cost. An agent always has to put his work first. If Allen has told you that he loves you, it may be true. On the other hand, you have to face the fact that he may simply have been talking of love in order to persuade you to help him.’

  I jumped to my feet, oblivious of the inquisitive stares of some campers walking along the path to the site. ‘It’s not true,’ I protested loudly. ‘He never mentioned love.’ But I was trembling. I remembered the reason for my reluctance to let Nicolas kiss me. Kurt was merely confirming what I had suspected then, beside the Havel.

  Kurt rose and stood behind me. ‘I’m sorry that I had to tell you this so brutally,’ he said. ‘I had hoped that you might have come to see it for yourself. ‘I’m afraid that the word of an agent simply can’t be trusted – it’s what he does to help you that counts, and Allen hasn’t been very helpful, has he?’

  I gave a choking laugh. That was the understatement of the year. Not only had
Nicolas got me into this mess but just now, when he saw me alone and bewildered in an East German town, he had not so much as twitched a muscle in recognition, let alone made any attempt to help me.

  I turned to Kurt. The snow scene in my mind had begun to whirl again. ‘But at least he’s here,’ I insisted, trying to give myself hope. ‘That must mean something.’

  Kurt shrugged. ‘Oh, he has business of his own. here, no doubt. I don’t know what it is, but I’m afraid that you must accept the fact that he didn’t come to rescue you. He was taking part in the festival, did you say?’

  ‘Yes – wearing a hat and a cloak.’

  We both looked uncomprehendingly up the hill towards the walled town. Immediately above us the castle rose sheer from the rock, its turrets jousting at the scurrying white clouds.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ said Kurt heavily. ‘I can’t imagine what he’s doing.’ Then he looked at me, his face grim with anger. ‘But by God, I’d like to know! I’d like to find him and have it out with him! How dare he make such cold, callous use of you. When I think of the danger you were in, in East Berlin … Thank God I was able to get you out of that!’

  The thought of my hideous predicament in East Berlin made me weak at the knees. I sat down again on the bench. What was it Kurt had said? ‘The word of an agent can’t be trusted, it’s what he does to help that counts …’

  Well, there could be no doubt about Kurt’s trustworthiness. He had helped me to escape, first from custody and then from East Berlin – and at goodness knows what risk to himself. And now he had travelled a hundred miles to help me again.

  I smiled at him with heartfelt apology. ‘You’ve been so good to me, Kurt, and I’m abominably self-centred. Were you in trouble when you got back to your office?’

  He grimaced. ‘There was a hue and cry, I can tell you! Fortunately I was back soon after they discovered that you were missing, and no one was able to prove that I had been away. And then, no one knew about the spare key I had. Ullstein held the key of the room you were in, so he’s in real trouble.’

  ‘Serves him right,’ I said vindictively. I could still feel the bruises on my upper arm where he had gripped me. ‘But how did you manage to get away again?’

  ‘Oh … I just went …’

  ‘And when you get back?’

  ‘There will be trouble,’ he confirmed. ‘But all I’m concerned with at the moment is getting you out of here. You’re still with the Americans? Good. I came to tell you that I have some contacts among the border guards not far from here, and I’ll be able to get you across late tonight. I’ll arrange for someone to meet you on the other side and take you to the nearest British consulate.’

  ‘Oh Kurt, you really have been wonderful! I’ve said thank you, half a dozen times, and it’s so inadequate … but – what about Nicolas?’

  He gave me a level look. ‘That’s entirely my affair, I think. If he’s in Marberg I certainly intend to find him.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘That depends. Tell me, are you still in love with him?’ I drew a long, shuddering breath.

  Well? Was I? Wasn’t it time, after the way Nicolas had treated me, to ignore the totally irrational response of my heart and start using my head?

  I lifted my chin. ‘No,’ I said.

  He nodded, slowly. ‘I’m glad. You deserve someone better. And this makes it easier for me to ask you for your help. If you still loved him, even after the way he has treated you, I couldn’t ask you this. But now, will you please help me to find him? I can’t be sure of recognizing him, you see, especially if he’s wearing some kind of disguise.’

  I hesitated.

  ‘You did say that thanks were inadequate,’ Kurt reminded me gently.

  ‘What – what exactly are you going to do when you find him?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry – I’m not proposing to do him any injury! But I want to find out what he meant by betraying you, and I must know what he’s up to here in Marberg. If he can use you as he did, then God knows who else he might be intent on harming. Don’t you see, my dear, he’s not to be trusted? We must stop him before he does any more damage to innocent people.’

  It made sense. I didn’t want to believe any of it, but the facts were irrefutable. Nicolas might not love me, but he had known me for years. If I couldn’t trust him, then no one could.

  Kurt was right. Whatever Nicolas was doing, he would have to be stopped.

  I nodded. ‘I suppose so,’ I said dully.

  ‘I felt sure that you would understand.’ Kurt looked at his watch. ‘I have to make the arrangements now for getting you across the border, so I must leave you for an hour or two. Perhaps you could join your American friends and tell them that all is well, and then come up to the town this afternoon? If Allen is in costume, I imagine that he intends to be there. I shall be waiting for you at the main gate at three o’ clock, and then we’ll watch the performers. I’ll make it as easy for you as possible, I promise – I don’t want you to speak to Allen or touch him, just point him out to me if you see him. Will you do that?’

  I bit my lip. To agree to give away – to betray – Nicolas was unthinkable. And yet, what had Nicolas ever done for me but betray me, literally and emotionally? I owed him nothing.

  But to Kurt – kind, solid, reassuring Kurt – my debt was incalculable. He was fond of me, possibly even a little in love with me, and all I had given him in return were constant reminders that I was in love with Nicolas, a man we both had good reason to mistrust. This was my opportunity – my one opportunity before he arranged for me to be smuggled back across the border to safety – to show my thanks to Kurt for everything. I couldn’t not take it.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. ‘Yes,’ I promised.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Scott came bounding up to me as I sleepwalked my way through the camp site.

  ‘You found Nicolas, then,’ he stated. ‘I saw you with him near the entrance as I came back from the town.’

  I tried to sort out in my mind what he was talking about, and then recalled seeing him pass by at a moment when I was in Kurt’s arms. The conclusion he had come to was understandable, and since I couldn’t possibly tell the boy the whole truth, there was no point in confusing him by trying to explain that Kurt wasn’t Nicolas.

  ‘Er – yes,’ I agreed. I made a painful sketch of a smile. ‘Everything’s all right now. We’ll be leaving tonight.’

  Disappointment tossed with relief for possession of Scott’s cherubic face, and relief won. ‘Oh, that’s great! I mean –’ he pushed the curls off his forehead, embarrassed, ‘I’m sorry you’re going before we leave, of course, but it’s really good to know that you’ll have no more trouble. I just couldn’t figure out how I was going to get you across the border without your papers! Where’s Nicolas now?’

  ‘Oh … he had to go back to the town. I’m meeting him up there this afternoon. I – I really came back just to say good-bye to everyone.’

  I could hear the unsteadiness in my voice and I knew that I couldn’t trust myself to say much more. My emotions were too near the surface.

  Scott was peering at me, his forehead wrinkling with perplexity. ‘Are you sure everything’s all right, Alison?’

  ‘Yes – yes of course.’

  ‘It is? So why are you crying?’

  ‘I’m not –’ I began, then pushed past him and hurried on, holding my head high to keep the treacherous tears from overflowing.

  Scott sighed and fell into step beside me. ‘I guess,’ he announced gloomily, ‘that I’ll just never understand women.’

  I splashed my face with cold water in the shower block, and then went to say my farewells and thanks to Nancy and Paul and the others. I felt numbed now. If I let myself think of Nicolas I should be in tears again, so I kept my tumultuous emotions firmly battened down and concentrated all my ability on entertaining them with bright, frivolous conversation while we shared a picnic lunch.

  Before we part
ed, Scott insisted that we exchange addresses. After a moment’s thought, I gave him my home address in Leicester. That, after all, was where I should be going as soon as I returned to England. I never wanted to see Norfolk again.

  I smiled at the boy. ‘Good-bye – and thank you for all your help.’ I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, and he blushed with embarrassed gratification.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he mumbled.

  I gave the Americans time to get clear before I followed them up to the town. They had been wonderfully good to me and I didn’t want them to be involved any further. As I approached the main gate, Kurt stepped forward out of the shadows.

  ‘Thank you for coming, my dear. I was half afraid –’

  ‘I promised,’ I pointed out flatly.

  ‘Yes.’ He took my arm, looking down at me with affectionate concern. ‘I’m so glad that you understand. It really is important that we find Allen – you know from your own experience how little he is to be trusted.’ His fingers tightened. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll have you safely back in the West this evening, and then you’ll be able to forget this whole wretched business.’

  I doubted that, but it seemed ungrateful to say so.

  As we walked through the gateway, I caught a sudden glimpse of Scott. As soon as he saw us he started, reddened, and hared away. Possibly he’d been lingering to make sure that I really was being met, and was now reassured. Gallant to the last, I thought affectionately.

  Kurt kept my arm in his as we walked through the town, either because he liked the contact or to prevent us from being separated by the crowds. Either way, I acquiesced. Quite apart from the tourists, every inhabitant of the Upper Harz region seemed to have come crowding into Marberg for the festival, and I didn’t want to lose Kurt. He was my rescuer, my lifeline to the free world, and I was glad to cling to him.

  We reached the market place and edged on to the steps of the town hall. A lively folk dance was taking place in front of the dais where the great cask of wine would eventually stand.