Sean excused himself as he always did when they arrived at a destination. She watched him leave to phone in to Headquarters and give his whereabouts.
After their first date they did not see each other for ten days, until Ernestine phoned him to ask him to the opening of a play. She was glad he had decided to drop the “cultural” pretext as a reason for seeing her. They were quite at ease with each other now, in a formal sort of way. What was it besides his rugged good looks that made him so attractive? The inevitable comparisons with Dietrich Rascher and the other men she had known came to mind. She realized that Sean and her uncle were the most interesting people she had ever known. His range of knowledge and his ability to express it seemed limitless, like the teacher he was.
There was a certain peace within Sean that was apparent. He did not need to prove the masculinity that obsessed most German men. He was certain of himself about so many things.
The opening of a warm and sentimental side began when Sean tried to apologize to her. No German boy would so humble himself; it was a new experience for her.
But there were other moments when she felt she could read his thoughts and those thoughts were ugly. He constantly seemed to be reminding himself he was sitting with a German woman, asking himself why. “German woman ... leper.”
Ernestine was curious to know if she could loosen him from an obsessive hatred of Germans. Or was their friendship nothing more than two lonely people who needed to talk to each other? Would Sean’s hatred always lurk and suddenly be triggered?
He returned to the table.
The menu was a bit on the thin side, but the French could do wonderful things with sauces, even over Rhine River eel. Fortunately, there was no shortage of champagne.
He raised his glass. “To our first noncultural affair.”
Their other encounters had given way to a rising number of long silent spells, lingering glances, and greater occasion of the need to touch each other. In this setting both of them knew that these feelings had to find their way through. It became a moment of both anticipation and fear.
She reached over and took his plate. “Here, let me cut that for you. Only an old eel fresser can do it properly.”
Sean watched her movements as she made thin, true slices down the middle of the fish and removed the backbone. He thought she did everything delicately.
They were conscious of their own silence. They drank and watched the lake, and were annoyed by the intrusions of the waiter. Sean tipped the last of the bottle into her glass.
“Prosit!” she said without thinking, but Sean did not react to the German toast.
He ordered another bottle of champagne.
Ernestine giggled. “I should have warned you. It does not take much to make me tipsy.”
Her eyes shone and she was radiant. The barriers were tumbling.
Behind them, the musicians switched from French to a German medley. Ernestine hummed, then sang, and her voice was sweet too. She remembered that she had not sung for years and years. “You are a pretty man ... yes, you are a pretty man ... that is better, Colonel ... you do have such a nice smile when you use it.”
Du kannst nicht treu sein—
Nein, nein, das kannst du nicht,
Wenn auch dein Mund mir
Wahre Liebe verspricht.
In deinem Herzen
Hast du fuer viele Platz,
Darum bist du auch nicht
Fuer mich der richt’ge Schatz.
Ernestine thought she saw his face grow tense at the German lyrics and stopped singing.
“Please go on,” he said.
There, the damned hypersensitivity again. “It is nonsense. A silly, sentimental song.”
Sean took her hand. “I am very glad we decided to become friends.”
“May I have some more champagne?”
“I don’t want to give you a hangover on our first non-cultural meeting.”
“I wish to get utterly drunk. I have been prim and proper for lo, six hundred years. I am going to kick off my shoes, forthwith, and wade into the lake and make you carry me to the car ...”
Sean poured her another glass.
She sipped long and sighed deeply. “Oh Lord, it is lovely here. It hasn’t been so lovely for so long.”
‘To a lovely friendship,” he said.
She tweaked his nose. “We have a nice German custom when people decide to become friends ... oh, excuse me, Colonel ... you don’t like German customs.”
“If it’s a nice one.”
“Extremely nice. First, you hold your glass and I hold mine. Now, we reach over ... .so ... and intertwine arms. There. Now, we drink.”
“This is a nice custom.”
“The best is yet to come.”
They sipped from each other’s glass, their locked arms brought their cheeks close.
“After a kiss we can call each other by the familiar form of ... Du.”
He felt the velvet of her cheek. “I like Du,” he said.
“And I like Du.”
“Du smell good.”
“I wore it for Du.”
Their lips touched.
“Hello, Sean.”
“Hi.”
Even on the veranda lit with little more than moonlight it was difficult to miss the hulking form of Shenandoah Blessing as he spoke to the headwaiter, who, in turn, pointed to their table.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he said.
Sean tumbled back to life, excused himself.
“Take the young lady home. I’ll meet you at Security soon as you can get there. I have your fatigues and side arms in my jeep.”
“Was gibt’s?”
“Don’t know, but it sure smells big.”
Chapter Forty
WHEN SEAN REACHED A secret room in the basement of Headquarters, Blessing was there with a dozen hand-picked enlisted men from the Constabulary. Likewise, a British Major Whitehead and a squad of their military police were present. General Hansen, General Fitz-Roy, and the Commandants Hazzard and Blatty were there. General Fitz-Roy addressed them:
“You gentlemen have been selected and assembled for a secret, urgent, and delicate mission. Within forty-eight hours our headquarters will issue a joint communiqué announcing a currency reform in the American and British zones of Germany.
“Further, it is now anticipated that the American Congress will enact the Marshall Plan into law momentarily. These two events will no doubt bring a violent reaction from the Soviet Union.
“We anticipate the Russians will attempt to issue their own currency and make it universal in Berlin. We are here to prepare for that eventuality.
“Your mission tonight is to fly to Munich and proceed to a destination known as Hüttendorf, where you will bring back a special currency for Berlin. We will hold it ready if the Soviets try to eliminate four-power currency.
“Captain Horniman of British Intelligence will brief you in detail.”
Horniman spoke for an hour outlining the mission. It had been meticulously plotted.
With a final warning that no one was to make contact with persons on the outside, the briefing ended.
According to the plan they were to proceed in twos, threes, and fours to Tempelhof over a staggered time so their arrival would not create suspicion. A four-engined Skymaster was in ready named “Cherry Picker.” The flight plan called for Hamburg with the passengers listed as troops going on furlough or routine military business. After a roll call, Tempelhof tower cleared the Cherry Picker slightly after midnight and she swept over sleeping Berlin into the northern air corridor toward Hamburg.
Sean had worked secretly on certain details and aspects of the currency reform. Now that there was no doubt that cooperation with the Russians was impossible new currency would be needed for the planned merging of the Western Zones. It was an integral part of the raising of German production levels, halting inflation, opening up consumer goods, rebuilding and establishing a trade balance.