She looked at me as if I was a complete stranger to her. She no doubt noticed my bruised face and hollow cheeks but she made no reference to any of that. 'How did you know I was here?'

'I heard a rumor. I was passing by, so I just called in. Will you have dinner with me?'

She spoke very slowly as if weighing every word. 'Of course I will, Bernard. I'll do anything you want. You know that.'

'Bret's not here with you?'

'Bret? No. I came instead of Bret . . . He had to go to Washington again. Oh, I see. The suite? Yes, it was booked in Bret's name.'

'There are things we should talk about.'

'Are there? What?'

'It's good to see you, Gloria.'

'Is it?'

'I hoped you'd say it was good to see me,' I said.

'No, it's not good, Bernard. It tears me to pieces if you really want to know. I told you that, didn't I? That's why I wanted to take the job in Budapest.'

'How is it going? Your new job with Bret?'

'I'm on the top floor, Bernard,' she said, as if that was all I needed to know.

'Trouble-shooting for Bret. Yes, I know; sounds good to me.'

'I go and do what Bret tells me to do. He uses me to do his hatchet jobs. But people all think it's me throwing my weight around. I get a lot of flak, Bernard.'

'They know it's Bret; they know it's his doing, they know it's not your idea.'

'It suits them to think it's me. It gives them someone convenient to hate when hating Bret doesn't suit them.'

'Is that why you are in Berlin?'

'We're cutting back on the radio monitoring. I broke the news to them this morning; they were furious. They took it out on me; everyone does.'

'Does Bret know you're getting that sort of flak?'

'He says I should use my charm. He says he chose me because it's going to be a year of flowing blood.'

'Is that why they brought Bret in? To clear the decks? To do all the firing and demotions and layoffs, and then let someone else come in and smell of roses?'

'Of course. And when Bret goes I'll be dumped.'

'But you'll have severance pay?'

'Yes. Bret was decent about giving me a contract. You were right about that.'

'Who'll get Bret's job?'

'That's the really tantalizing question isn't it?'

'You must have heard hints,' I said.

'No. The plan is that the Director-General retires next year. Whoever is appointed to replace him will have the chance to choose his own Deputy D-G.'

'I've been hearing that the D-G was going to retire next year since I was in knee pants.'

'The D-G's not well. Half the time he's at home, wrapped in a cashmere shawl, resting and feeling sorry for himself.'

'Yes, well, the same goes for Dicky, but it doesn't mean he's likely to retire any moment.'

'The D-G will retire within a year, Bernard. An outsider will come in. The D-G will go, Bret will go, I will go and the whole top floor will change.'

'And Fiona? Would she be in the running for replacing Bret?'

'I would think that with an outsider at the top of the tree they will need an experienced Deputy.'

'And Fiona is very experienced. But why not Dicky?'

'Too much opposition from Bret. You know how it always is with these top jobs. It will have to be someone Bret approves and wants to hand over to.'

'Shall we eat in the hotel or do you want to go somewhere more cosy?' I offered.

'You want to eat here in the room, don't you?'

'Why do you say that?'

'I know you, Bernard. You don't want to take the risk of being seen with me. You want to be with me but you don't want to have any of your friends see us together.'

'There's a jazz club in Kantstrasse. '

'You're ashamed of being seen with me; and that's not easy for me to take, Bernard.'

'Or Hardtke — German food — if you're hungry. If you want to dance . . .'

'I don't want to dance, Bernard.'

'I'm sorry. I know I've screwed up your life, Gloria. In fact that's what I really came here to say.'

Her mood softened. 'You couldn't help it, Bernard. I was wrong the other day. I didn't mean what I said.'

'I hurt too, Gloria. All the time. I hope you know that.'

'Should that make me feel better? To know that you are suffering too?'

'Fiona is in Jamaica. She's taken the children.'

'I know, Bernard,' she said patiently. 'I see your wife all day every day. I work on the top floor with her. We exchange sweet bits of news and gossip with all the intensity that women who hate each other always do. It's ghastly. I thought that as long as I didn't keep seeing you, I would be okay. But seeing her hurts just as much.'

'No nice young men to take your mind off the past?'

It was the wrong thing to say and I should have known that. She picked up the phone, stabbed at the buttons and spoke. 'Room service? Send me two toasted steak sandwiches. Saignant. French mustard. Side salads and a pot of coffee with fresh cream. Two warm apple strudels to follow.' She hung up the phone and went to the minibar before giving me a chilled export Pils and a glass. For herself she selected a half bottle of German champagne.

'Okay?' she said with a big plastic smile.

'Okay, Gloria,' I said.

'So take your shoes off.' It was what I always did as soon as I arrived home.

The food arrived. We ate the sandwiches and the warm strudel arrived on time. It was only then that she remarked on my bruises and upon the fact that I looked unwell. I had slept until the effects of the medicine wore off, but when I fully awoke I watched the hands of the clock going round, and finally had to get up and go and see if Gloria really was in town. I didn't tell her that, of course. I didn't tell her that I so badly needed just to look at her, and be near her, that I had crawled out of my sick-bed. We sat around and talked the sort of lightweight chit-chat that we'd exchanged regularly when we were living together so happily. Then without wanting she said, 'Bret is determined to retire Frank. You know that don't you?'

'Frank will never retire; he's another permanent fixture. He'll be here in Berlin for ever.'

'When Frank goes, you could get Berlin. This job you've got is a sort of test, to see how you handle things as second-in-command.'

'Thanks for telling me.'

'You must have seen that.'

'It crossed my mind. But thanks for spelling it out for me just the same. Is that why Frank is staying at home over Christmas?'

'He's not staying at home. Bret has sent him off to a Harley Street clinic for a complete physical examination.'

I chuckled. 'He won't get rid of Frank as easily as that. Frank is a permanent fixture. He's been to bed with half the pretty women in Berlin, and God knows where else. He's gone back to smoking that filthy pipe, he drinks nonstop and never seems to need sleep. Frank is made of titanium — silicon-coated. The Wall will fall down, Honecker will die of old age, and still Frank will be here running the Field Unit. You'll see.'

'Bret wants you promoted. It's not just that he doesn't like Frank. He's determined to make some radical changes while he's in a position to do so. You are one of them.'

There was a knock at the door and a hotel room maid came in. She had a jangling bundle of keys in one hand and some clean pressed bedsheets draped over her arm. Her Saxon-accented German was too rapid for Gloria, and I translated. 'They had a girl sick today. The bedsheets were not changed, and you need fresh towels in the bathroom. She says is it okay if they do it now? They don't need to come through here.'

'It looked all right to me,' said Gloria. 'Do we look as if we are in urgent need of a bed?' she asked me.

'Maybe,' I said, not sure whether she was being provocative or cruel. I only knew that bedding Gloria right now would be a disastrous mistake that would make all three people even more miserable than we were at present. In any case I was not going to risk being rebuffed; my ego was too fragile. 'Go ahead,' I told the maid.