‘An agnostic,’ said Neil.
‘Yes, that’s right. After he married my mother I stopped going to church so often. In this country we are not very religious, and when I went to the university I began doing things that are not allowed. I mean, sometimes I went to bed with other students. I don’t think that is really wrong — not if you like them.’
He looked at her quickly: her face was pale and absurdly earnest. She went on: ‘My stepfather is with the Secret Army. He is very serious about it. But when we started killing the Moslems last year I was worried. I felt like you did this morning. I was shocked. I went to the priest and he told me that the only way to defend ourselves and to defend the Christian faith was to fight the Moslems. He was right, because all we are doing now is what they are doing to us. There was never any trouble until they started killing Europeans — like they did at the Casino today. We didn’t start the terrorism — they did!’
‘The priest told you all this?’ said Neil.
She nodded: ‘He said what my stepfather says — what everybody here says. Even the Archbishop is with the Secret Army.’ Her glass was empty again. He began refilling it, but she held his arm: ‘You’re trying to get me drunk?’
‘You said you wanted to get drunk?’
‘Not yet. Let’s eat first.’ Her face was almost touching his. He turned away, picked up the telephone and ordered consommé, chicken and lobster-in-the-basket for two, with a bottle of Chablis. As he spoke she squeezed his arm. Her eyes had a dry glitter in them. She suddenly smiled. He bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. Her skin was cold and she did not move.
He sat back feeling awkward, frightened to go too far, desiring her with the fumbling, heart-thumping lust of an adolescent. He realized that he found the prospect of making love to a member of the Secret Army faintly terrifying.
She sat crouched forward beside him, holding her glass in both hands. He poured her a small drop: ‘As an aperitif,’ he said.
She nodded. There was a pause. ‘I’m sorry about your Dutch friend,’ she said, ‘he was a nice boy. It must be terrible to see someone you know die like that. Did you know him well?’
‘Not very. We met about a couple of weeks ago going round some monasteries in Greece.’ He said it idly, without thinking, and for a moment did not realize the effect his words had had on her. The glass stopped at her lips and her whole body stiffened. He turned and looked at her. There was a shocked, bleak look in her eyes. The bathrobe had fallen carelessly open and he saw, with distracted interest, that she was naked.
They stared at each other and Neil gulped down his drink.
‘So you were on Mount Athos?’ she said, almost in a whisper.
Neil said nothing; he leant back against the pillows, seeing the dark curves of her body under the white towelling. She put her glass down on the table, and with a slow deliberate movement stood up and faced him, drawing the edges of the bathrobe round her.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, ‘you’re an Englishman — you have no reason to interfere in our affairs. Why are you working for this man Pol? Why have you chased us from Greece? And why do you play the fool with me, giving me cognac in your bedroom when you know…?’ Her voice caught and he thought she was going to cry.
He said: ‘You’re wrong. I’m not chasing you. I was on Athos for a holiday and they arrested me in Athens because they thought I was somebody else.’
‘That’s not what you told Colonel Le Hir.’
‘I know it’s not.’ He realized that it was hopeless to lie to her now, she knew too much. He began telling her about his meeting with Broussard; he had reached the incident of the lost coin at Zographou when she bent forward, her hands on his shoulders, and cried, ‘Oh God, I don’t know what to do! Please, tell me what to do? I don’t want all this killing!’ Her voice now had the cracked edge of hysteria. He put his arms round her and looked into her face, saying, ‘It’s all right, it’s all right,’ patting the small of her back as though placating an overwrought child.
She drew closer to him, pressing her belly against his cheek, and said again, her voice trembling with unshed tears, ‘I don’t want all this killing! But they will kill you if they find out!’
He pushed her away and stood up: ‘Find out what?’
She still clung to him, her face turned aside: ‘Everything! Everything you’ve just told me!’
‘But I’ve explained. I met Broussard on Athos — it was a coincidence.’
‘No! No!’ She shook her head violently; her whole body shuddered against him: ‘They are very suspicious. They won’t believe you. You are mad to have come here. Oh please go away! If they find out you were on Athos they will know you are a barbouze working for the fat man.’
‘But can’t you tell them I’m not?’ He tried to keep the fear out of his voice. This was worse than he had expected: ‘Can’t you tell Le Hir and Broussard?’
She looked at him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades:
