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it.”
    When Anna said nothing, Gerhard felt a brush of panic return. He was too fond of Anna to want to go through with this thing. But he knew that life in prison, Barzel’s ultimate sanction, would swiftly, surely kill him. So he took another deep breath and set out on the next stage of his reluctant journey across the tightrope.
    “What else is wrong?”
    “Oh … David’s never
there,
somehow. Not like he used to be.”
    Ah, better! Gerhard refreshed her drink.
    “He got this wonderful promotion last month. There’s some standing committee, ultra hush-hush, you get onto it and you’re like God. The trouble is, he has to fit it in with all his other work, and the committee meets every day. Or it seems like every day. Some weekends they troop off to the country, and … oh, I don’t know. I love him so much.”
    “Still?”
    “Yes, still. He’s so fine. So perfect.” She paused, then, as the sense of his remark filtered through to her, said, “Why the surprise?”
    Good, things were definitely starting to drift his way. All she might need now was a subtle prod. “You understood what you were getting when you married him,” he said smoothly.
    “You never really approved of David, did you?”
    Gerhard repressed a twinge of jealousy that was suddenly more than any mere twinge. “I thought you could have done better.”
    “I could have, then. Before I got to know David properly.” She smiled affectionately at him. “But you weren’t free … oh, God, I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right.”
    “I mean, with Clara …”
    “Dying.”
    “It was tactless of me. Sorry. I haven’t seen you since she …”
    “No.” Mention of Clara induced in Gerhard a resurgence of the desperation that had haunted him ever since Barzel’s visit. One minute he seemed in control, the next he had lost it. There had been a time when he loved this woman opposite, loved her enough to want to divorce Clara and begin a new life…
Christ!
The last thing he could afford today was nostalgia.
    He watched Anna casting around for a change of topic. “What did Seppy say when you rang?” she said at last, the words tripping out too quickly.
    “He was thrilled.” Gerhard forced himself to smile. “He’s keeping us the usual table at the usual time.”
    “You’re an angel.” She paused. Something about her expression told him that the dice were about to rollagain and inwardly he tensed. “I need to talk to you, Gerhard. I hope I’m not using you—I’ve kept my distance over the past two years, haven’t I?”
    “I always assumed you had a valid reason.”
    “In a way. I never told David I’d been in therapy. You advised me not to and so I never did, even though I often wanted to. And somehow keeping my life in watertight compartments just became … well, too difficult. Can you understand that?”
    God yes, he thought.
God!
“Easily.”
    “I think that really the only reason I’ve come to see you is that David’s gone away, you see. And I feel a bit cheap. As if I’m carrying on behind his back.”
    He saw that she was waiting for him to prompt her, but he knew when to keep silent. At last she said, “I need help.”
    Gerhard managed to keep his smile intact, but he imagined she must surely see the relief in his eyes. “My dear, whatever is the trouble?” he made himself respond at last.
    “I’m worried. No, not worried. Frightened.”
    “Of?”
    “Losing the man I truly love.”

CHAPTER
4
    David Lescombe let the phone ring twenty-seven times before hanging up, which he did by replacing the receiver on its rest with almost excessive respect, seemingly anxious to preserve British Telecom’s equipment for as long as possible. Behind him, people were emerging from the refectory in ones and twos, their chatter an irritant. What was Anna up to? Then a hand descended on his arm, and he turned away from the phone booth, remembering just in time to fashion a neutral smile.
    “I suppose I really ought to ring mine