‘In the next hour. As soon as I have checked in, I will call his room. I cabled. He is expecting me.’
‘And you know he will see you?’
Eckart rubbed his scar meditatively. ‘Why should he not see me, Carl? You forget. Max Stratman and his brother and I worked side by side at the Kaiser Wilhelm all through the war. We are friends, old friends. Today, we will have lunch. We will speak of many things. Gemütlichkeit will be the note. You make a reservation for us, the moment I register. The Riche, I think. That would be the best restaurant… Yes, Carl, have no fear, Max Stratman will be waiting for this reunion.’
Andrew Craig and Leah Decker occupied the desirable corner suite 225 in the Grand Hotel. Directly above it, having the same dimensions and identical in furnishings, was suite 325, which, for the duration of Nobel week, was tenanted by Emily Stratman and Professor Max Stratman.
At 1.20 in the afternoon, Craig arrived at suite 325 and rapped on the door.
After a moment, the door opened, and although Emily was not visible, he heard her voice. ‘You can roll it right in the living-’ And then her head appeared around the door, and she saw Craig. ‘Oh, it’s you-forgive me-I’d ordered lunch from room service and-please come in.’
He followed her through the entry into the sitting-room. His eyes were on her semi-shingled dark hair, and when she turned to take his overcoat, he enjoyed again the black curls that curved forward on her cheeks, framing her face in piquant loveliness. She wore a loose forest-green tunic of jersey, that draped outward and straight down from her breasts, and the tight cotton-knit green slacks beneath, smooth and chic, adhered to her hips and thighs. He had never seen her dressed this informally, and there was an ease about her that pleased him.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked.
‘Famished.’
‘I can still catch them downstairs. Will you join me?’
‘Why do you think I’m here?’
She picked up the white room service telephone, and was instantly connected. ‘This is Miss Stratman in 325. If you’ve still got my order, I’d like to add another to it.’ She listened, said, ‘Please hold on,’ cupped the mouthpiece and told Craig, ‘In the nick of time. They’ll keep mine warm while they get yours ready. What are you having?’
‘Whatever you’re having.’
‘That’s Swedish roulette,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I’m having. They brought the middagen menu-that’s what it said-and I pointed to Kalvschnitzel med spaghetti.’
‘That sank the Titanic. Okay by me. And any kind of Danish beer.’
She put through Craig’s order and sat several feet from him on the sofa.
‘I want to thank you again for last night, Andrew. It was lovely.’
‘For me, too.’
‘I can always tell when it’s good. I went to bed early, because I wanted to think about it and nothing else, and before I knew it, I was asleep. What did you do after?’
How could he tell her of his similar good intention, and how quickly it had paved the road to hell? How could he tell her of finding Leah naked in his bed-so fantastic now, in the daylight-and of their bitter quarrel? Even to hint at it would frighten Emily.
‘I read a Gideon Bible,’ he said.
‘Did you really?’
‘I wanted to see what those boys had. It needs a polish job. They’re on to a good idea, but the characters aren’t believable, and the sex is too explicit and there’s no book that can’t be helped with a little cutting. I think one rewrite would do it.’
‘Silly.’
‘I had a good night’s sleep, too, Emily, until the Uppsala boys’ chorus woke me at some ungodly hour.’
‘They serenaded you? I heard they did that.’
‘Warn your uncle. Tell him to wear earplugs every night. No, I’m kidding. It was very nice. It turned out I was supposed to lecture them this morning on Hemingway and the Icelandic sagas.’
‘Did you?’
‘I lectured, all right. I just came from there. They got an Icelandic saga, I’ll say-Miller’s Dam, Wisconsin, on a winter morning. The snow sometimes piles up five or six feet.’
‘Did you discuss writing?’
‘I said authors want to write, have to write, and all the rest don’t want to write, they only want to be authors. I said that was the essential difference, the one that separates the men from the boys. They got the message. Most of them will wind up manufacturing matches, but they were a nice bunch. I have to do a repeat performance for a group from two other universities at three-thirty.’ He paused. ‘What have you been up to this morning?’
‘Uncle Max wanted to rest. He has an old friend coming in from Berlin, and he has to see him for lunch. He’s dressing right now. We just stayed in and lazed. It’s too cold out, anyway. I studied all morning-’
She picked up a book, one she had purchased the day before at Fritze’s, from the coffee table.
‘-Swedish into English, English into Swedish. I’m determined.’
‘Anything I should know?’
‘Indispensable,’ said Emily. She opened the language book and leafed through it. ‘Here is the Swedish phrase, and here it is in English. “Who will pull me across the lake?” Now, how could you get along without that? Here is another. “Please get me a clean knife.” That one haunts me, like the ending of Dickens’s The Mystery of Edwin Drood. And here we have “The wine is too warm, fetch some ice.” And the pessimism. Here is a little exchange one is expected to learn in Swedish. Question: “Hur går affårerna? How is business?” Answer: “Stilla. Dull.” Question: “Hur mår Eder man? How is your husband?” Answer: “Han är mycket sjuk. He is very ill.” Cheerful, isn’t it?’
Craig laughed, and took the book from her. ‘Have you learned anything yet?’
‘Several words.’
‘Let’s find out.’ He read aloud. ‘Spottning förbjuden.’
‘Heaven help me. What does that mean?’
‘No spitting… what every young lady should know… Glögg. What’s glögg?’
‘I know that! Brandy-burnt brandy.’
‘Very good, Miss Emily.’ Craig consulted the book again. ‘Helgeflundra.’
‘Halibut,’ said Emily promptly.
‘My God, you’re right. And mässling?’
‘Mässling-mässling-sounds like something you chew or an Oriental form of wrestling.’
‘You are quarantined. It means measles. Here is one you can’t do without-ormskinn.’
‘I surrender.’
‘Snakeskin. Had enough?’
‘Well, one more.’
‘All right,’ said Craig. ‘What does renstek do to you?’
‘It gives me indigestion.’
‘Right. It’s reindeer steak. Oh, wait, just one more. What if a stranger said to you-avkläda?’
‘I’d say you’re welcome.’
‘It means undress.’
‘Mr. Craig!’ But she smiled when she said that, and Craig knew everything was fine between them.
He threw the book down. ‘My only advice to you, young lady, is don’t go out with a Swede.’
‘If I do, I’ll stick to “Please get me a clean knife.” ’
‘I see you don’t need me.’
‘But I do,’ said Emily.
There was a knock on the hall door, and Emily called out, ‘It’s open!’
The waiter, in a white jacket, towel over one arm, came in pulling a portable table filled with covered plates, the coffeepot, and a bottle of beer.
As the waiter reached the sitting-room, Professor Max Stratman, wearing a hat and short overcoat, emerged from his bedroom.
He did not seem surprised to see Craig. ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Craig. Are you going to keep Emily company?’
‘Until three, I hope.’
‘Very good.’ Stratman kissed Emily’s cheek. ‘Do not let him charge any more to our bill. Let him spend his prize, and we will spend ours.’