‘But Edward is—’
‘Yes, Virgil is impeccable,’ Stefan said. ‘How does he get his hands on all this stuff? Sometimes my bosses don’t believe you both are for real. Fools.’
Laura found it shocking, that suddenly bitter note of criticism. But he didn’t seem to notice that he had said anything out of the ordinary. She asked if he was having problems with other agents. She did not expect any kind of direct answer – if she had been honest with herself, she would have realised that she was just fishing for compliments. But he surprised her again, by answering with detailed irritation, opening up to her for the first time, telling her that one of his other sources had just come under suspicion.
‘For years he has brought us information not just from his country, but also from Germany. Now some of it has been checked from another source, and it is false – he is tricking us. I have to know who he is really working for now. After all, if Blanchard …’
Blanchard – Laura remembered the name, and the man, sitting there at the edge of the dance floor in his office clothes, and she repeated the name as if to remind herself.
‘You know him?’
She shook her head. She couldn’t say she knew him, but if it was the same – a tall, middle-aged man …
‘With a limp.’ Laura had to admit that she hadn’t seen that, but after all he had been sitting down. Stefan was irritated with her for not being more certain. He was clearly eager, even desperate for Laura to be acquainted with him. ‘I need to keep an eye on him,’ he said. Laura was trying to backtrack, explaining that even if it was the same man, she didn’t know him, in fact was only acquainted with his girlfriend, and even then hardly at all. But Stefan had already moved on, explaining that it was essential that she build on this acquaintance. ‘We used to have a good supporter in the hotel itself, one of the waiters, who would do little things for us, but he has now been called up. I need to know what Blanchard is doing and who he is talking to. He is the press attaché at the Swiss embassy, so he has many, many contacts. We can see what he does when he is not in the hotel or the embassy and we can look at his letters, but what is he doing in there, and who does he see?’
Again Laura tried to explain that she had only seen him in passing, and Stefan started to get impatient with her.
‘You must make an effort.’
Laura felt rebuked. She had been Stefan’s good girl all these months, and now he seemed ready to be angry with her. As she left the meeting place, she felt curiously shaky. She wanted his approval, she realised; she wanted to be told how well she was doing. Over supper that evening she asked Edward if they could go to the Dorchester again soon. She was hardly surprised by his reluctance, but pressed him, and perhaps it was because it was so unlike her to do so, he agreed.
When she and Edward walked through the doors of the ballroom, she realised that the atmosphere reminded her of nothing so much as the first-class quarters of the ship in which she had crossed the Atlantic, oppressive in its ostentation and gaudiness. But now, in this shattered city, it could not seem more out of place. There was a tackiness about it; even the glass in which she was given her cocktail was sticky, and there was no ice in it. But there was energy here too: London’s nightlife had received an injection of new blood, and there were a number of American uniforms among the dancers. In fact, it was so full that there were no tables free immediately, so they sat at the mirrored bar drinking their sweet cocktails. It wasn’t long before Edward saw someone he knew.
‘There’s Percy,’ he said. ‘Let’s pretend we haven’t seen him – he wrote a vicious review of Alistair’s first book.’ And then, with an expression of distaste, he continued. ‘There are all those Polish chaps I was in a meeting with just yesterday. I suppose they’ll come and say something.’ But instead of talking to any of these acquaintances, Edward ordered more and more to drink.
It was after midnight when they saw Nina come in, together with the overweight Swiss man Laura remembered. They were not with Amy, but with another couple, a thin dark man wearing suede shoes and a very young girl, as well as a tall man who looked too young for his shock of striking white hair. Unlike with Laura and Edward, the waiters were quick to find the group a table, and Laura and Edward went over to say hello. Nina introduced them to her friends. The girl, who looked about sixteen, didn’t open her mouth, but the dark man stood up and bowed politely to Laura. When Edward heard this man’s name, however, his smile became fixed. He nodded to the table and walked Laura back to the bar.
Laura tugged on his sleeve as they went. ‘I told you, I want to talk to Nina.’