13

Looking for the British Embassy, I left the S-Bahn at Friedrichstrasse and walked along the side of the River Spree until I reached Luisen­strasse. The embassy building had been described to me as being on the intersection of this wide street with Unter den Linden. I was ap­pre­hensive, feeling that I was being pulled between the un­rea­sonable demands of my brother and the only slightly more reason­able expectations of my country.

As I made for the main entrance of the embassy building I spotted Terry Hebbert, the captain of the athletics team, also walk­ing pensively in the same direction as me. I caught him up and we greeted each other with some relief. He congratulated me on our bronze and told me briefly about his own hopes for the track events that were still to come. He asked where Joe was, but I merely said he was unable to be at the party. While we were talking I took my medal from my pocket and, feeling a little self-conscious, slipped it around my neck. We found the correct entrance and followed ele­gantly lettered signs towards the Imperial Ballroom. We were duly announced from the door.

The reception was being held in a long hall with a highly polished floor and glittering crystal chandeliers. A four-piece orchestra was playing on a dais at the far end and uniformed waiters moved deftly with trays of drinks and snacks held aloft as they wove between the large number of guests already there. The noise and heat were tremendous. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, chattering in both English and German and laughing with increasing vivacity and noise. Several high-ranking German officials were present, wearing their distinctive black or dark grey uniforms even in this unventilated and crowded room. I saw a couple of fellow athletes I recognized from Oxford, deep in conversation. Under pressure from Joe to stay at the party as short a time as possible, I resisted the temptation to go over and say hello. As we slowly worked our way across the congested floor of the ballroom, some­body in a small party wheeled round and touched Terry Hebbert’s arm and he promptly joined them. I wandered on, alone. I soon emptied my first glass of champagne, and exchanged it for a full one.

The orchestra finished a piece and silence was called from the rostrum. A tall British gentleman made a short welcoming speech, alternating between English and near-perfect German. He mentioned the Olympic athletes who were competing so successfully, singling out the British, of course, but also generously praising the athletes of the host country. Germany was already so far ahead in the medals table that no other country was likely to catch up. He also paid tri­bute to the German government, for ensuring that the Games were being played in such a spirit of fairness and sportsmanship. He con­cluded with the earnest hope that the Games would be the beginning of a new and lasting spirit that would imbue the German nation with a sense of brotherhood towards the other countries of Europe.

Halfway through the speech I realized that of course the speaker was the British ambassador. Behind him on the little stage I also spotted Arthur Selwyn-Thaxted. When the ambassador had finished speaking and the band struck up again, he stepped down from the dais and walked quickly through the throng towards me.

‘I’m so glad you could be here, Mr Sawyer!’ he said loudly. ‘Which of the JLs are you?’

‘I’m Jack, sir. Jacob Lucas.’

‘And is your brother here too this evening?’

‘I’m afraid not. Something came up at the last minute.’

‘That’s a tremendous shame. Well, at least you have been able to make it. There’s someone here who is anxious to meet you. Could you spare a moment to say hello to him?’

‘Of course.’

I put down my half-empty glass of champagne and followed him as he squeezed politely through the crowd. A number of long tables covered in white cloths were arranged along one side of the hall. Clustered behind, separating themselves from everyone else, were several German officials. Prominent among them was the man who had made the presentation of medals to Joe and myself. He noticed us as we walked towards him and at once came forward.

Selwyn-Thaxted said, ‘[Herr Deputy Führer Hess, I have plea­sure in presenting Mr J. L. Sawyer, one of our Olympic medallists.]’

‘[Good evening, Mr Sawyer!]’ Hess said at once and made a jocular gesture towards the medal hanging on my chest. ‘[Of course I remember you. Please, you will join us for a drink.]’

The table where he had been standing was laden with a large number of tall steins and lidded tankards. Several huge glass jugs of a foaming black liquid were standing there, while two waiters stood ready to serve. Hess clicked his fingers peremptorily and one of the waiters filled a tankard.

‘[You will enjoy this,]’ said Hess.

I took the heavy pot, raised the lid and sipped the frothy liquid. It was sweet and cold and had a strong but not unattractive flavour. I noticed that Hess himself was not drinking the same stuff but was holding a small tumbler containing fruit juice.

‘[Thank you, sir. It is a pleasant beverage.]’

‘[You have tasted Bismarck already?]’

‘[Bismarck?]’ I said.

‘[It is a great favourite, I am told, at your Oxford. Maybe you know it by its English name, which is Black Velvet?]’

‘[No, I’ve never tasted anything like it. Because I have been train­ing for the Games I drink only beer, and that in modest quantities.]’

‘[This Bismarck is popular in the Reich with many people. Most of them like to drink it when you Britishers are here, as today. You have a good black beer, as you know, which you bring from Ireland. It is called Guinness? Then we mix the Guinness with champagne from France. So we are all friends in Europe, as your ambassador advises us!]’

Selwyn-Thaxted was still standing beside me, smiling atten­tively, while the banal conversation proceeded.

‘I have other guests I must attend to,’ he said, speaking softly and quickly in English. ‘I shall be on hand if you need any advice.’

‘Advice?’

‘You never know. Do excuse me.’ He nodded with deep courtesy to Rudolf Hess. ‘[We are greatly honoured by your presence here this evening, Herr Deputy Führer. You must make yourself feel welcome. Do let me or one of my staff know if there is anything you require.]’

‘[Thank you, my gentleman.]’ Hess turned directly to me, in a gesture of dismissal to Selwyn-Thaxted. Hess had already removed his jacket and was wearing a khaki shirt tucked into grey trousers. An Iron Cross on a ribbon hung at his throat. He moved his burly body closer to me. ‘[Why have you not brought your brother with you this evening?]’ he said in his rather disconcerting tenor voice.

‘[He was unable to be here.]’ I saw from Hess’s reaction that it was not a satisfactory answer, so I added, ‘[He is training alone this evening. Only one of us felt able to take advantage of the invitation.]’

‘[That is a great pity. I was looking forward to seeing you to­gether again. Your bodies are so healthy and muscular. And you are so alike! It is a marvellous deception and a great novelty.]’

‘[We never try to deceive anyone, sir. Joseph and I feel that—]’

‘[Yes, but surely you realize how useful it must be, if you wish not to be somewhere! To be there in your twin brother’s guise so that others you do not know think that you are somewhere else or that you are not what you appear?]’

I barely followed that. I thought to take a sip of the drink in order to cover my confusion, but when I raised the tankard to my lips the sweet, malty smell deterred me.

‘[We are either seen together,]’ I said, thinking how pointless all this was. ‘[Then people know we are twins. Or we are seen apart, when no one need know.]’

‘[That is so true, Mr Sawyer. Do you do everything together, even those things that—?]’

‘[We lead separate lives, sir.]’

‘[Unless we speak of your rowing! You could not do that alone!]’

‘[No, sir.]’

‘[Where and how did you learn to speak German?]’ He was moving closer to me. [‘It is excellent and almost without fault.]’

‘[My mother is from Saxony, sir. She emigrated to England before the last war. That is where I was born, but I grew up speaking both English and German to her.]’

‘[So you are half German! That is good. Half your medal is ours, I think!]’

He laughed uproariously and repeated his observation to some of his associates, standing close behind him. They laughed as well. I looked around to see if Mr Selwyn-Thaxted was anywhere near, but I could not spot him. I needed what he had called his advice. The small talk went on.

‘[Herr Speer is an oarsman also. You should meet him perhaps.]’

‘[Herr Speer?]’

‘[Speer is our leader’s architect. Look around you when you are in Berlin. Herr Speer is designing most of our great buildings and arenas. But he is fanatical about talking of boats.]’

‘[I should like to meet him, of course,]’ I said, but as vaguely as I could. ‘[What about Herr Hitler? Is he interested in sports?]’

‘[He is our leader!]’ Hess was suddenly alert and upright, and for a moment I thought he was going to raise his arm and salute. His deep-set eyes stared away across the room, apparently not focusing on anything in particular. Then he said, ‘[After the reception we are going on to a private dinner. Will you and your handsome brother accompany us?]’

‘[My brother cannot be present at all this evening,]’ I said.

‘[Then you will come alone. We have good drinks and you will eat wild boar for the first time and we will explain many interesting things about Germany to you.]’

I was becoming increasingly anxious to escape from this man. I knew Joe was waiting for me in one of the streets outside the build­ing. The longer I delayed the more furious he would be with me.

‘[I’m sorry, Herr Deputy Führer,]’ I said. ‘[It is not possible. I am really sorry.]’

‘[We will make the arrangements for you. In the Third Reich all things are possible!]’ His voice had taken on a bantering quality, which gave it a threatening undertone. ‘[What else is there for you to do in Berlin, while you are here? You will come with us when we leave in a few minutes. You will enjoy the rest of the evening. There will be no women, no one to interrupt what we wish to do. You understand, of course! We all have a good enjoyment and you can show me how you stroke. I your little boat shall be!]’

He laughed again, his eyes squeezing momentarily closed beneath his jutting eyebrows. I felt a wave of confusion, embarrassment, uncertainty, fear. His associates were watching for my reaction.

Hess tipped up his glass and finished the fruit juice. As he placed the glass on the table beside me, leaning forward so that his shoulder pressed against me, Selwyn-Thaxted materialized beside me with marvellous deftness.

‘Ah, Sawyer,’ he said. ‘I see you need another drink.’ My tankard of champagne-Guinness was still almost full, but Selwyn-Thaxted took it from me and put it down on the table. He flipped the lid closed. ‘[The ambassador has specifically asked if it would be pos­sible to meet you, Sawyer,]’ he added loudly in German, for Hess’s benefit. ‘[Nothing formal. Do come with me straight away.]’

Hess was looming beside us.

‘[We have decided already to leave, my gentleman,]’ he said to Selwyn-Thaxted, then looked directly at me with his dark, worry­ing eyes. ‘[Come, we will depart, I think!]’

‘[The ambassador presents his compliments, Herr Deputy Führer,]’ said Selwyn-Thaxted. ‘[With your permission he asks if he might have a private audience with you also, but in a few minutes’ time?]’

‘[That is not possible.]’

‘[Then His Excellency will not insist.] Come, Sawyer.’

With his hand firmly gripping my upper arm, Selwyn-Thaxted led me at a relaxed pace across the ballroom, then through a pair of double doors to a small room adjacent to the hall. He closed the doors behind him, cutting off most of the noises of the reception.

‘May I assume you will be staying on in Berlin until the closing ceremony?’ he said.

‘I don’t think that’s going to be possible.’ I told him about my brother’s unexplained but urgent need to set off for home, to which Selwyn-Thaxted listened intently. He thought for a moment, staring at the ornately woven Persian carpet.

‘Yes, I think that’s probably wise,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what your brother has in mind, but as far as you are concerned it’s prob­ably sensible not to see Herr Hess again.’

‘May I ask why you encouraged me to meet him?’

‘He asked for you by name. We also knew that you are a fluent German speaker, which suggested there might be an extra dimen­sion that would possibly be useful.’

‘It was small talk,’ I said.

‘Nothing at all of any interest?’ Selwyn-Thaxted asked mildly.

‘In what respect?’

‘Well, did he happen to mention anything about Chancellor Hitler’s plans, for instance?’

‘No, that didn’t come up. He is intrigued that my brother and I look so much alike. And he said that Herr Speer was interested in rowing.’

Selwyn-Thaxted smiled fleetingly. ‘I don’t think we knew that.’

‘Is it important?’

‘Probably not . . . but you never know.’ Without being obvious about it, he was already steering me towards the door. ‘I’m grateful to you, Mr Sawyer. I hope you didn’t mind speaking to him.’

‘No, sir.’

In the outer hall Selwyn-Thaxted asked one of the under­secretaries to conduct me out of the building by way of the main entrance.

By this time it was twilight but the air remained warm. I saw a line of open-top Daimlers waiting in Unter den Linden, ready to collect Hess and his colleagues, but of the Nazis themselves there was no sign. I walked quickly along Unter den Linden in the direc­tion of Brandenburger Tor, beyond which I had agreed to meet Joe. I saw the van from a distance: the two shells were lashed once more to the roof. As I walked closer I saw Joe himself, pacing impatiently. He greeted me without more than a gruff acknowledgement and went quickly to the driver’s side.

In no time at all we were driving at speed through the darkening streets of Berlin, going north. I said nothing. Night fell as we left the outskirts of the city and headed out into the German country­side, using the new autobahn that led towards Hamburg. It was not the same road as the one on which we had arrived. I mentioned this to Joe. He made no reply.