“Jeez, you coulda warned me!”
She shrugged and was about to change back when he rested a hand on her arm.
“Wait. Can you do it again for me?”
“What would you like? Older, younger or a different gender?”
“Older.”
Amber became a spry seventy-year old.
David smiled. “I’ve got it!”
Amber frowned. “What?”
“You are brilliant, but one thing doesn’t change.”
“Oh?”
“Your eyes, they stay more or less the same. The skin around them may change, but you can’t change the colour of them, can you?”
Amber frowned and concentrated. She reverted to the first Amber he’d known and then into a black woman with short curly black hair. However, the eyes were still golden.
Using an amazing amount of energy, David watched as her eyes became slightly darker, but she stopped, apparently exhausted.
“I can, but it is so hard!”
“Did you, in Berlin, I mean?”
She shook her head, once more reverting to the Amber with which he was familiar.
“Is this the real you?” he asked, more than a little un-nerved.
Smiling she hesitated, but then nodded.
“This is the me I become when I don’t try to become anyone else.”
He frowned, sensing that she had deliberately not answered the question. He was about to ask another question, when he had a deep feeling not to go there, so he changed the topic back to his previous train of thought,
“That’s what they are going on. Someone must have seen you at the café in London, and many times in Berlin. Those eyes are certainly the window of your soul. I expect there are some photographs of one or more of your many alternatives in Berlin.”
“I’m not worried about them, I have this gift.”
“Another one?”
“I always know when someone is taking my picture, so I can fix the exposure.”
David smiled, recalling the grainy photograph that he’d seen in the US Embassy. Although it was of a pretty girl, it really could have been of anyone.
“Okay, I accept that, but how good are you at fixing these exposures?”
“Pretty good,” she said, smiling.
“Right, but all it takes is a couple of reasonable pictures for them to realise your eyes are the same.”
Amber thought about what he’d said, her face crinkling into a frown. David was fascinated to watch her, feeling an enormous weight of tenderness for her. For someone so potentially powerful, she seemed terribly vulnerable and alone.
“Amber, what has your life really been like?”
“What?” she asked, startled by the sudden change in subject.
“Your life, you told me a bit, but was it awful for you?”
She laughed then, a delightful sound like crystals falling into champagne.
“No, it’s been fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yup, fun. Mind you, it’s had the odd bad moment.”
“You’ve always been alone, haven’t you?”
Her smile went, briefly, and then reappeared again.
“I’m not anymore, am I?”
“No Amber, you’re not!”
Vassily felt frustrated, as Ivan seemed to completely unable to get even the slightest whiff of their target. He had expected the young man to get a feel for her within a short time of reaching London, but they’d been here for five days, with nothing to show for it – yet.
“She’s not in London,” is all the young man said.
“How do you know?”
Ivan shrugged. “I just know. I also feel that they know about us.”
“Who do?”
“Them - the British.”
“So, why haven’t they picked us up?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know, perhaps they don’t know why we’re here and want to see what we do.”
“So, if she isn’t here, where is she?”
Ivan closed his eyes and concentrated. Vassily watched as the veins on his forehead became quite pronounced.
“I keep getting a merest glimpse. She’s got power.”
“As much as you?”
Again the shrug. “I can’t tell.”
Vassily was getting more impatient and frustrated.
“What the hell can you tell?”
“She’s not far away, just not in London.”
“Give me a clue?”
Ivan shook his head. “I need a map of England.”
Vassily looked at Dimitri, who nodded and left the room.
While the Russians attempted to seek out Amber, Amber and David enjoyed long walks across the Downs. They shared with each other those parts of their lives that had never been aired before. Amber still restrained from telling him that she’d been a boy. It seemed irrelevant somehow.
In turn, he bolstered her confidence with small factoids that tended to establish her superiority over the Russian. After three days, they were completely relaxed in each other’s company, so after a fine evening meal, they sat and played cards until midnight.
Amber had never lost at cards, as she could not only read the cards, she could read her opponent’s mind. However, David tried to confuse her by thinking of different cards to throw her. It worked, some of the time. As a result, she was challenged to work harder in order to try to thwart his attempts to fool her.
It was a valuable lesson for them both, as David was beginning to appreciate a little of his own gift.
He beat her by persuading her that he had two pairs instead of a full house.
<You see, you can!> she thought at him as she dealt the next hand.
He laughed, and succumbed to her three kings.
<I get lucky when you let your guard down, that’s all.>
<You’re also getting better.>
<Maybe.>
She replaced the pack into the box, looking at him.
<No maybe, you are. You’re special, did you know that?>
<Everyone is, that’s the beauty of mankind.>
<Hark at you! That’s a bit noble, isn’t it?>
<Okay, let’s start with you. You’re so special it hurts.>
Amber was silent, her eyes glistening. For a moment he thought she was about to cry.
“Will you be gentle?”
He smiled. “Probably not. It’s been a while.”
“Good! I’ve had gentle,” she said, standing up and holding her hand out to him.
“Your room or mine?”
David returned from the shower and watched the girl in the bed. She smiled, although her eyes were shut. Her golden hair was spread across the pillow, framing her lovely face like a halo. He thought her truly beautiful.
“Like what you see?” she asked, still with her eyes closed.
“You know I do.”
Turning her head, she looked at him.
“I don’t pry in your mind anymore.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged, exposing her breasts as the sheet fell way at the movement. She didn’t appear concerned.
“I like it when you surprise me.”
He sat next to her on the bed, as she touched his chest, running her fingers through the hair. He was about to tell her he loved her, when she reached up and touched his lips.
“I know.”
“I thought you didn’t pry?” he asked.
“I didn’t. I was about to say the same thing.”
“Oh.”
She sat up, drawing her knees up and hugging them.
“I’ve also made a decision.”
“Okay, what about?” he asked, intrigued, for her conversations tended to jump from one subject to another without any warning.
“The Russians.”
“Okay.”
“I reached out and found him - the young one.”
“Was that wise?”
“I had to know.”
“Know?”
“He’s good, but I’m better!”
“I told you so.”
“Yes, you did, but that was just bullshit to make me feel better.”