Len Deighton - Spy Line

The music stopped. The dancers waited to resume but the musicians put down their instruments and departed for refreshments. 'Tessa, darling!' said the princess as we got to her. They embraced in that perfunctory way that women do when they are wearing make-up and jewellery and have their hair done. 'Promise me that you'll never let George take my husband away again.'

'Whatever did they do?' said Tessa, a laugh in her voice as if the answer might be both shocking and entertaining.

'That beastly scuba diving school. Joppi can't talk about anything else, ever since they went there.'

'But that was ages ago,' said Tessa. That was in Cannes.'

'I know. I thought it would go the way of the oil painting and the computers: forgotten after a week or two, but Joppi has been absolutely demented… He's bought all the equipment: air bottles and… I don't know… Even books about it. He wants me to do it too but I can't swim.'

'Poor darling Ita,' said Tessa with no hint of sincerity.

Further indicating her distress, the princess fanned herself, a mannerism more that of a schoolgirl than of a grown woman. 'George,' she said. 'Do something to get Joppi out of the billiards room.' To Tessa she petulantly added, 'It's always the same at parties; Joppi hides away in there and doesn't help at all.'

Tessa said, 'How lucky you are, Ita. George helps me and it's absolute hell.' George smiled and then said, 'Let me introduce Gloria and Bernard my brother-in-law.'

'Are you really Tessa's brother?'

'No, I'm married to her sister.'

'And you are Gloria,' said the princess somewhat condescendingly and smiled to show the sort of satisfaction women get from uncovering what might be illicit relationships.

After a few more pleasantries Tessa took Gloria under her wing and they disappeared together upstairs while George took me to meet our host in the billiards room. From George's description I was expecting someone old and fat, a rotund wurst-gobbler likely to be found in a beerhall swaying to the melody of In München steht ein Hofbäuhaus – eins, szwei, gsuffa! But the prince turned out to be a tall thin sleek man of about thirty-five. A cosmopolitan tough guy who spoke English with no trace of an accent. Suntanned like his wife, he had unnaturally black hair that was shiny and brushed close to the skull. His dinner suit was conservatively cut by some expensive tailor. Like George and many of the other guests he wore it in the casual manner of men who spend a great deal of time in such costume.

He was standing by the marker drinking wine and studying the position of the cue ball. He looked up as we entered. 'George!' he said with what appeared to be genuine pleasure.

'All alone?' said George. 'Perhaps you'd prefer…'

'No, George. I was hoping you would come.' He snapped his cue into the rack with an excess offeree, as a well drilled soldier might place his rifle somewhere close at hand.

George said, 'This is Bernard, a very good friend despite being my brother-in-law.'

'Brother-in-law and friend too!' he said, grimacing in mock surprise. 'That's surely a tribute to the grace and generosity in both of you.'

As I went through the formalities the vague feeling of recognition snapped into focus. I'd seen the activities of this 'playboy prince' in some of the less serious German newspapers and magazines.

George said, 'Quite a dressy crowd here tonight, Joppi.'

'Not many real friends. They're people my wife feels we owe favours or hospitality to,' said Joppi, as if his wife was suffering a strange and troubling delusion; an affliction from which he hoped she'd eventually be released.

'Ita tells me you've become an expert diver, Joppi,' said George.

'Yes, next time you'll find I'm even better than you,' said Joppi. 'It is a matter of fitness, George. And practice.' To ask any German to undersell such hard-earned achievements is to ask a great deal. 'We spent Christmas in my brother's beach home near Rio and the water was perfect. Now I'm good, damned good.'

'Lucky man,' said George.

'You're guests, and not drinking,' the prince said. 'We must rectify that immediately.' He smoothed his perfectly smooth jacket and began to move towards the door as if guessing that his wife had asked George to prise him out of the billiards room.

He snapped his fingers, German style, at the nearest waiter and conjured up drinks for us. But before I could get my hands on one Tessa – bright-eyed and smiling – had grabbed my arm. 'First, you dance, Bernard. I insist.'

I hadn't danced for so long that it required all my concentration not to tread on her toes, but soon I was managing well enough to try talking too. 'When can I pop over for that fur coat?'

'Joppi's a lovely dancer isn't he?' Tessa said as if she'd not heard me.

I turned my head to see our host with Gloria gripped tightly in his arms. 'Yes,' I said.

'I knew he would be interested in Gloria. She is just his type.'

'But will Gloria find him interesting?' I asked.

'That doesn't matter half so much,' said Tessa. 'He will find her interesting, and that's what attracts any woman.'

I didn't argue with her: probably she was right. I'd never understood women and had given up hope that I might ever do so. Anyway it would do no good to argue with Tessa. She handled her life in her own way and made no concessions to anyone, not even to her husband.

'He's like that,' said Tessa. There was the hint of a joke in her tone. She was being provocative and made no secret of it. 'He has quite a reputation with the ladies. He'll proposition her; you see if he doesn't.'

'How do you know?'

'You silly man!'

I steered her sharply round to avoid bumping into another couple and said, 'When was that?'

'Me and Joppi? He wanted me to leave George but that was just his machismo. He would have left me high and dry after a few months. I knew that.'

'Does George know?'

'There is nothing to know, darling.' We danced without speaking for a little while and then Tessa said, 'Gloria is awfully worried about you, darling.'

'Gloria is worried?'

'You're not looking your best, Bernard. Surely other people have mentioned it to you?'

'No, they haven't.'

'Don't get snotty. You're looking bloody rotten if you want to hear the truth of it. Gloria thinks you should see the doctor and I agree with her.'

'See a doctor? What am I supposed to be suffering from?'

'Stress can do strange things, Bernard. You're probably overworked… I don't know. But you're damned jumpy and suspicious all the time. And apart from that you don't look well.'

'I'm one hundred per cent,' I said.

'My man in Harley Street is really wonderful, Bernard. Would you go and let him give you a check-up: as a personal favour to me.'

'I do believe you're serious.'

'Of course I am. And I promised Gloria to talk to you.'

'I'll think about it.'

'No. Say you'll go. I'll make the appointment.'

'I said I'd think about it.'

'I'll phone you next week. I'm going to keep on at you until you go.'

'For God's sake, Tessa.' Then, realizing that I was being inappropriately rude, I gave her a kiss on the cheek. What I didn't tell her was that even a routine check-up like that would have to be reported to the Department. I didn't want anyone there asking if I was sick. All kinds of complications would follow. They were just looking for an excuse to put me on the shelf.

I saw Joppi again. He was a skilful dancer and Gloria was loving every moment. She gave no sign of thinking that the prince should go and see a doctor. As they went gliding round the floor I regretted that I hadn't made more effort at Frau Brand's dancing classes back in Uhlandstrasse when I was twelve years old. 'And he's a friend of George's?' I said.