“But what about your father? Don’t you speak German to him?”
“He’s dead, I’m afraid.”
“Sorry.”
“But maybe you’re right. We could meet, perhaps. For a little conversation.”
“Those are the best kind.”
“You don’t like to talk?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On who I’m talking to. Lately I’ve gotten out of the habit of saying very much.”
“I find that rather hard to believe.”
“It’s true. But with you I could make an exception.”
“Somehow I don’t feel flattered.”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s nothing like speaking a language with a native to get better at it. You could think of yourself as the horse and me as the emperor Charles V.” Still testing her. The insult was deliberate.
She laughed. “Didn’t he have an unfeasibly large jaw?”
“Yes. In those days you didn’t get to be a king unless there was something strange about you. Especially in Germany.”
“That probably explains our own kings. They’re Germans, too, originally. From Schleswig-Holstein. And they have the biggest mouths in Greece. But as it happens, you’re right. There’s not much German conversation to be had here in Greece. For obvious reasons.”
“Lieutenant Leventis speaks quite reasonable German. Almost as well as you. Maybe we could ask him along to our little class.”
“Lieutenant Leventis?” Elli smiled. “I couldn’t meet him without half of Athens getting to hear about it and drawing the wrong conclusion. Besides, his wife might object. Not to mention the fact that he and I hold very different political opinions, so we’d probably spend most of the time arguing. He’s rather more to the right than I am. Only don’t tell anyone. I try to keep a lid on my politics. Konstantinos Karamanlis is hardly a great friend of the left.”
“There’s no film in my camera, Elli. Politics don’t interest me. And in Greece they’re beyond my understanding. The left most of all.”
“Maybe it could work,” she said, persuading herself some more. “Why not? I might even get to understand the German people a little better.”
“I know that feeling.”
“You don’t think it’s possible?”
“I’m not sure. But let me know when you think you’ve got a handle on us. I’d love to get a few clues as to why we are who we are.”
“My father used to say that only the Austrians are really suited to being Germans; he said that the Germans themselves make excellent Englishmen, even though they all secretly wish they could be Italians. That this was their tragedy. But he liked Germans a lot.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“He was.”
The barman brought her something green and cold in a glass and she toasted me pleasantly.
“Here’s to the new Europe,” she said. “And to me speaking better German.”
I toasted her back. “You really believe in this EEC?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“I quite liked the old Europe. Before people started talking about a new Europe the last time. And the time before that.”
“It’s only by doing away with the idea of nation states that we can put an end to fascism and to war.”
“As someone who’s fought in all three, I’ll drink to that.”
“Three?”
“The Cold War is all too real, I’m afraid.”
“We’ve nothing to fear from the Russians. I’m sure of that. They’re just like us.”
I let that one go. The Russians were not like anyone, as anyone in Hungary and East Germany would have told you. If Martians ever did make it across the gulf of space to our planet with their inhuman plans for conquest and migration they’d feel quite at home in Soviet Russia.
“But if we meet,” she added, “for conversation, let’s avoid politics. And let’s not make it in here.”
“Your boss?”
“What about him?”
“He might see you.”
She stared at me blankly, as if she had no idea what I was talking about. But that could just have been my German.
“In here,” I added. “With me. Having a conversation.”
“Yes. You’re right. That would never do.”
“So. You suggest somewhere. Somewhere that isn’t cheap. I have an expense account and no one to take to dinner this weekend except Mr. Garlopis. He’s MRE’s man in Athens. But he’s a man. A fat man with an appetite. So it will make a nice change. These days I’m alone so much that I’m surprised when I find someone in the mirror in the morning.”
“If he’s the one who booked you into the Mega then I’d say you should have him fired. I bet he’s got a cousin in the hotel business.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Everyone in Greece has a cousin. That’s how this country works. Take my word for it.”
But I didn’t know if I would. Seated at the very bar where I’d already been duped by one liar, I wasn’t sure I believed what she’d told me but she seemed like a nice girl and nice girls didn’t come my way that often. Then again, the truth is never best and seldom kind so what did it really matter why she was there? A lot of lies are just the oil that keeps the world from grinding to a halt. If everyone suddenly started being scrupulously honest there’d be another world war before the end of the month. If Miss Panatoniou wanted me to think our meeting again was purely accidental then that was her affair. Besides I could hardly see what there was in it for this woman to deceive me. It wasn’t like Siegfried Witzel was alive or that she had an insurance claim against MRE I might settle in her favor. I really didn’t have any money or any powerful friends. I didn’t even have a passport. Nor was I about to persuade myself that she was just one of those younger women who are
