AMANDA WAS IN MY ROOM WHEN I RETURNED. I DIDN’T ASK HOW she’d gotten in.
“Darling,” she said, with an imitation look of longing. “I’ve been so terribly lonely waiting for you.”
“And who could blame you.”
“Did you get everything settled with King?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, never mind. You really are horrible, and I may begin to hate you. But only after you’ve done me a favor.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days? You Brits used to call it ‘shagging,’ but I suppose ‘doing me a favor’ is more polite.”
“Darling, you are too tiresome. But I forgive you, for two reasons.”
“What’s the other one?”
“I need your help.”
“So you said. Well?”
“It’s . . . a little embarrassing.”
“I’m shocked.”
“Yes, well, you might actually be, when I tell you all.”
“I’ll be shocked if you do tell me all—about anything, ever. But of course I won’t be able to know whether you have or not. It’s a kind of philosophical problem. A ‘What Is Reality’ sort of thing.”
“Don’t be obscure. You saw that horrid Nazi woman.”
“Yes. The three Rhine maidens rolled into one.”
“Yes. And . . . well . . . I don’t know how to say this, really.”
She actually seemed to blush.
“Give truth a try.”
“You have to believe that I’ve never done anything like that before.”
And she was actually blushing. Her lovely throat was suddenly blotchy and red.
“You’re kidding! You and her?”
“Yes. But only just the once. I came home from a show at Charlie’s, and it was late, and I’d had quite a lot to drink. As I was undressing there was a knock at the door and I asked who it was, and she said something about the Vichy police, so I opened the door and there she stood in a flimsy negligee holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and she said, ‘May I come in?’ Well, what was I supposed to do?”
“Was it good champagne?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You know I don’t know anything about wine. I like all kinds.”
“Yes, you upper-class English girls only learn what’s done and what’s not done. You told me. So, does what happened next fall into the ‘Done’ category? Is it the sort of thing that goes on in girls’ boarding schools?”
“Well . . . it’s not unheard of. But I had never done anything like that before. Do you believe me?”
“Does it matter? If it does, then, yes, I believe you utterly and with no reservations. How was it?”
“Well, I was the passive one, of course, so when I closed my eyes like Mrs. Lloyd George and thought of England, it was not unlike some things I had known before, with one or two men. Including you, darling. Of course, there were some differences, even with my eyes closed.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
“But she is an odious woman. She hadn’t shaved under her arms.”
“That was what bothered you?”
“Yes, among many, many other things. Her breath was not to be believed. The next day, I tried to tell her that I was drunk and that I had never done those things before and didn’t really want to do them again, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Did you see the way she was glaring at you at Charlie’s?”
“Yes. I assumed she was thinking I was dashingly handsome and debonair.”
“Well, you are that, of course, darling. But she was thinking that you’re some sort of rival. Which you are, you know.”
“That’s a first for me—rival to a Nazi Sappho.”
“Anyway, I wouldn’t think anything of the whole matter, except that it was too shame-making, as the Bright Young Things used to say. The problem is, she’s some sort of Gestapo queen. She can make life very difficult for me, and she will, absolutely.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned by another woman.”
“Right. When I told her I didn’t want to play the little Dutch boy anymore, she threatened me in no uncertain terms.”
“Little Dutch boy?”
“You know that story. Don’t be coy, darling. But I have to get out of town. There’s nothing here for me anyway, not really, and since you’re in the Consulate now and can move around fairly easily, and even have a car, I was hoping you could whisk me off to Tangier. It’s not that far a drive, and if we left early in the morning, we could do it easily in a day, and you could be back by evening. I can get a plane to Lisbon from there and put this whole nightmare behind me. Will you please be my knight in shining armor and spirit me away like Lochinvar or Lancelot or whoever it was that swooped in and threw his girl over his pommel and rode off? Will you, darling?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s all I ask. One way or the other I’m getting out of this town, and I’d much rather it be with you than any other way.”
“So would I.”
“Oh, good. Maybe we could have a sort of honeymoon in Tangier.”
“Would we have to get married first?”
“Of course not.” She paused and looked at me. “You weren’t serious . . . for just a second I thought . . .”
“My darling, with you I am never serious.”
“I’m glad. It’s much more civilized that way. I don’t want to be married again, ever. And now, shall we order room service before or after?”
“After.”
“Mmm, I’m glad you said that. That’s what I want, too, even though our afters usually take such a long, lovely time coming.”
I didn’t believe much, if anything, of her story. But I believed the way she was taking off her dress and all the rest of her silky things. And I believed the way she stretched her naked body languorously against mine. And I believed her perfume and the way she kissed. That was enough belief for the time being.
I figured as long as she thought there was a chance I’d give her a ride out of there, she wouldn’t steal my wallet and sneak out while I was asleep. And there would come a time later when I would have to fall asleep. But not for the next couple of hours.
In the morning I would call Dave King and see what he thought about this new wrinkle. There was certainly more going on here than I could know, but I had a feeling King might have a clue about what it was, and if there was a rat lurking somewhere, he’d sniff it.
And then I thought of de Gaulle’s two hundred and forty-six kinds of cheese—which meant two hundred and forty-six kinds of bait for a rat trap. If I was meant to be one of them—in other words, a wedge of bait—I hoped at least it would be smooth, sophisticated, and robust, with no unpleasant odor.
“By the way, Amanda, has anyone ever told you that you have the most intoxicating scent?”
“No. No one. I’m glad you’re the first.”
“Of course.”
“So, darling, would you like me to show you how to play the little Dutch boy?”
“I don’t know. It sounds like I don’t have the proper equipment.”
“Au contraire, darling. You’re just right for the way I want to play it. My way is a departure from the rules.”
“That figures.”