Rundstedt saluted and was motioned to a chair. A footman brought a plate of caviar sandwiches and a glass of champagne. Hitler stood at the large window, looking out, with his hands clasped behind his back. Without turning, he said abruptly "Rundstedt has changed his mind. He now agrees with Rommel that the Allies will invade Normandy. This is what my instinct has all along told me. Krancke, however, still favours Calais. Rundstedt, tell Krancke how you arrived at your conclusion."

Rundstedt swallowed a mouthful and coughed into his hand. "There are two things: one new piece of information and one new line of reasoning," Rundstedt began. "First, the information. The latest summaries of Allied bombing in France show without doubt that their principal aim is to destroy every bridge across the river Seine. Now, if they land at Calais the Seine is irrelevant to the battle; but if they land in Normandy all our reserves have to cross the Seine to reach the zone of conflict.

"Second, the reasoning. I have given some thought to how I would invade France if I were commanding the Allied forces. My conclusion is that the first goal must be to establish a bridgehead through which men and supplies can be funnelled at speed. The initial thrust must therefore come in the region of a large and capacious harbour. The natural choice is Cherbourg. Both the bombing pattern and the strategic requirements point to Normandy," he finished. He picked up his glass and emptied it, and the footman came forward to refill it.

Jodl said, "All our intelligence points to Calais-"

"And we have just executed the head of the Abwehr as a traitor," Hitler interrupted.

"Krancke, are you convinced?"

"I am not," the admiral said. "I too have considered how I would conduct the invasion if I were on the other side but I have brought into the reasoning a number of factors of a nautical nature that our colleague Rundstedt may not have comprehended. I believe they will attack under cover of darkness, by moonlight, at full tide to sail over Rommel's underwater obstacles, and away from cliffs, rocky waters, and strong currents. Normandy? Never."

Hitler shook his head in disagreement. Jodl then said, "There is another small piece of information I find significant. The Guards Armoured Division has been transferred from the north of England to Hove, on the southeast coast, to join the First United States Army Group under General Patton. We learned this from wireless surveillance. There was a baggage mix-up en route, one unit had another's silver cutlery, and the fools have been quarrelling about it over the radio. This is a crack British division, very blue-blooded, commanded by General Sir Allen Henry Shafto Adair. I feel sure they will not be far from the centre of the battle when it comes."

Hitler's hands moved nervously, and his face now twitched in indecision. "Generals!" he barked at them, "Either I get conflicting advice, or no advice at all. I have to tell you everything."

With characteristic boldness, Rundstedt plunged on. "My Fuehrer, you have four superb panzer divisions doing nothing here in Germany. If I am right, they will never get to Normandy in time to repel the invasion. I beg you, order them to France and put them under Rommel's command. If we are wrong, and the invasion begins at Calais, they will at least be close enough to get into the battle at an early stage."

"I don't know. I don't know!" Hitler's eyes widened, and Rundstedt wondered if he had pushed too hard again.

Puttkamer spoke now for the first time. "My Fuehrer, today is Sunday."

"Well?"

"Tomorrow night the U-boat may pick up the spy, Die Nadel."

"Ah, yes, someone I can trust."

"Of course he can report by radio at any time, though that would be dangerous."

Rundstedt said, "There isn't time to postpone decisions. Both air attacks and sabotage activities have increased dramatically. The invasion may come any day."

"I disagree," Krancke said. "The weather conditions will not be right until early June-"

"Which is not very far away-"

"Enough," Hitler shouted. "I have made up my mind. My panzers stay in Germany for now. On Tuesday, by which time we should have heard from Die Nadel, I will reconsider the disposition of these forces. If his information favours Normandy as I believe it will, I will move the panzers."

Rundstedt said quietly, "And if he does not report?"

"If he does not report, I shall reconsider just the same."

Rundstedt nodded assent. "With your permission I will return to my command."

"Granted."

Rundstedt got to his feet, gave the military salute and went out. In the copper-lined elevator, falling four hundred feet to the underground garage, he felt his stomach turn over and wondered whether the sensation was caused by the speed of descent or by the thought that the destiny of his country lay in the hands of a single spy, whereabouts unknown.

Lucy woke up slowly. She rose gradually, languidly, from the warm void of deep sleep, up through layers of unconsciousness, perceiving the world piece by isolated piece: first the warm, hard male body beside her; then the strangeness of Henry's bed; the noise of the storm outside, as angry and tireless as yesterday and the day before; the faint smell of the man's skin; her arm across his chest, her leg thrown across his as if to keep him there, her breasts pressed against his side; the light of day beating against her eyelids; the regular, light breathing that blew softly across her face; and then, all at once like the solution to a puzzle, the realisation that she was flagrantly and adulterously lying with a man she had met only forty-eight hours before, and that they were naked in bed in her husband's house. For the second time.

She opened her eyes and saw Jo. My God… she'd overslept.

He was standing beside the bed in his rumpled pyjamas, hair tousled, a battered rag doll under his arm, sucking his thumb and staring wide-eyed at his mummy and the strange man cuddling each other in bed. Lucy could not read his expression, for at this time of day he stared wide-eyed at most things, as if all the world was new and marvellous every morning. She stared back at him in silence, not knowing what to say.

Then Henry's deep voice said, "Good morning."

Jo took his thumb out of his mouth, said, "Good mornin'," turned around and went out of the bedroom.

"Damn, damn," Lucy said.

Henry slid down in the bed until his face was level with hers, and kissed her. His hand went between her thighs and held her possessively. She pushed him away. "For God's sake, stop."

"Why?"

"Jo's seen us."

"So what?"

"He can talk, you know. Sooner or later he'll say something to David. What am I going to do?"

"Do nothing. Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters."

"I don't see why, the way he is. You shouldn't feel guilty."

Lucy suddenly realised that Henry simply had no conception of the complex tangle of loyalties and obligations that constituted a marriage. Any marriage, but especially here. "It's not that simple," she said.

She got out of bed and crossed the landing to her own bedroom. She slipped into panties, trousers and a sweater, then remembered she had destroyed all Henry's clothes and had to lend him some of David's. She found underwear and socks, a knitted shirt and a V-necked pullover, and finally right at the bottom of a trunk one pair of trousers that were not cut off at the knee and sewn up. All the while Jo watched her in silence.

She took the clothes into the other bedroom. Henry had gone into the bathroom to shave. She called through the door, "Your clothes are on the bed."

She went downstairs, lit the stove in the kitchen and put a saucepan of water on to heat. She decided to have boiled eggs for breakfast. She washed Jo's face at the kitchen sink, combed his hair and dressed him quickly.