grow dark. Mary looked at her watch.
‘We must be going back now, Niels,’ she said.
‘First we find something to eat.’ He prodded Annabel in the ribs. ‘Shall we not?’
‘I think we’d better go back to the ship,’ Mary said. ‘There’s absolutely no need for you to come. We can find our way quite easily. It will be Annabel’s bed time soon.’
‘Just as soon,’ Mouritzen argued, ‘wherever she eats her dinner. Come, I know a good place, where they will have ice-cream as well. Will we like that?’
Annabel’s reply was an emphatic one. Mary smiled at Mouritzen over her head.
‘All right. Thank you – we’d love to.’
----
Thorsen was waiting for Nadya when she had finished exercising Katerina. He barred her way to the cabins.
‘Shall we go into Dieppe together?’ he suggested.
She looked at him with a faint smile. ‘No. Thank you.’
The last two words were so drawled as to sound insulting.
Thorsen said: ‘Niels has taken the Cleary woman and the child. They went twenty minutes ago.’
Nadya stopped smiling. ‘I saw them.’
‘You don’t want to go by yourself,’ Thorsen said.
‘There are others.’
‘Not with your brother, either.’
‘Bernard is taking me.’
Thorsen made a gesture of contempt. ‘He is no good to you.’
‘What do you mean – no good to me?’
‘You’re a girl of passion,’ Thorsen said. ‘So Niels told me.’
She said in a low, even voice: ‘You’re a liar.’
‘That night in his cabin – was it just after two o’clock that you came out or just before?’
‘Niels told you that?’
‘Who else?’
Nadya laughed, her strong, white teeth gleaming. ‘You liar! You were spying on us. I heard the door of your cabin snick, and saw the light under the door. You think Bernard is not man enough for me? What would you say you are, little Jorgen? I would call you a schoolboy.’
He said warningly: ‘Don’t make me angry.’
She reached forward and rumpled his hair; she was still wearing pullover and jeans and her clothes carried the animal smell of the bear.
‘Should I fear little Jorgen?’ she asked. Her fingers suddenly tightened in his hair, and she pulled his head back savagely. Tears came into Thorsen’s eyes. ‘Go back to school,’ Nadya said. ‘Or to Mama, and ask her to wipe your pretty little eyes.’
She went inside. Thorsen looked round, making sure that no one had seen the incident. Then, after quickly combing his hair, he called to the boy, Ib, to tell him he was going, and hurried off the ship.
He went to a back street, not far from the railway station. The houses were tall and mean and smelled of garbage. Thorsen rang a bell on the ground floor and stepped back into the street. A window opened and a woman looked out, silently. She nodded her head, and he went back into the house.
There was a double bed in the room to which she admitted him, covered with a tattered silk counterpane, of faded gold patterned with faded roses. The only other furniture consisted of a cheap wash-stand and a chest of drawers, and two upright chairs. On the chest of drawers stood a large marble clock, flanked by prancing horses. It had been her mother’s, she had told him on a previous visit, and it would fetch nothing anyway.
She was a woman in her forties, who even in her youth could not have claimed anything resembling good looks. Her body was tired and slack, her face fell in sad wrinkles from the dyed blonde hair, and her eyes were dulled and unhappy. She wore a red, woollen wrap; where it was torn at the elbow one could see part of a stained blue nightdress.
She asked Thorsen for two thousand francs, and when he gave her the money she put the notes carefully under the clock. Then, opening the wrap, she went to the bed and sat down wearily.
Thorsen began to curse her, at first gently, feeling his way among the obscenities like a man reluctantly paying out money. He spoke in Danish, and she looked at him, blankly, neither understanding
‘We must be going back now, Niels,’ she said.
‘First we find something to eat.’ He prodded Annabel in the ribs. ‘Shall we not?’
‘I think we’d better go back to the ship,’ Mary said. ‘There’s absolutely no need for you to come. We can find our way quite easily. It will be Annabel’s bed time soon.’
‘Just as soon,’ Mouritzen argued, ‘wherever she eats her dinner. Come, I know a good place, where they will have ice-cream as well. Will we like that?’
Annabel’s reply was an emphatic one. Mary smiled at Mouritzen over her head.
‘All right. Thank you – we’d love to.’
----
Thorsen was waiting for Nadya when she had finished exercising Katerina. He barred her way to the cabins.
‘Shall we go into Dieppe together?’ he suggested.
She looked at him with a faint smile. ‘No. Thank you.’
The last two words were so drawled as to sound insulting.
Thorsen said: ‘Niels has taken the Cleary woman and the child. They went twenty minutes ago.’
Nadya stopped smiling. ‘I saw them.’
‘You don’t want to go by yourself,’ Thorsen said.
‘There are others.’
‘Not with your brother, either.’
‘Bernard is taking me.’
Thorsen made a gesture of contempt. ‘He is no good to you.’
‘What do you mean – no good to me?’
‘You’re a girl of passion,’ Thorsen said. ‘So Niels told me.’
She said in a low, even voice: ‘You’re a liar.’
‘That night in his cabin – was it just after two o’clock that you came out or just before?’
‘Niels told you that?’
‘Who else?’
Nadya laughed, her strong, white teeth gleaming. ‘You liar! You were spying on us. I heard the door of your cabin snick, and saw the light under the door. You think Bernard is not man enough for me? What would you say you are, little Jorgen? I would call you a schoolboy.’
He said warningly: ‘Don’t make me angry.’
She reached forward and rumpled his hair; she was still wearing pullover and jeans and her clothes carried the animal smell of the bear.
‘Should I fear little Jorgen?’ she asked. Her fingers suddenly tightened in his hair, and she pulled his head back savagely. Tears came into Thorsen’s eyes. ‘Go back to school,’ Nadya said. ‘Or to Mama, and ask her to wipe your pretty little eyes.’
She went inside. Thorsen looked round, making sure that no one had seen the incident. Then, after quickly combing his hair, he called to the boy, Ib, to tell him he was going, and hurried off the ship.
He went to a back street, not far from the railway station. The houses were tall and mean and smelled of garbage. Thorsen rang a bell on the ground floor and stepped back into the street. A window opened and a woman looked out, silently. She nodded her head, and he went back into the house.
There was a double bed in the room to which she admitted him, covered with a tattered silk counterpane, of faded gold patterned with faded roses. The only other furniture consisted of a cheap wash-stand and a chest of drawers, and two upright chairs. On the chest of drawers stood a large marble clock, flanked by prancing horses. It had been her mother’s, she had told him on a previous visit, and it would fetch nothing anyway.
She was a woman in her forties, who even in her youth could not have claimed anything resembling good looks. Her body was tired and slack, her face fell in sad wrinkles from the dyed blonde hair, and her eyes were dulled and unhappy. She wore a red, woollen wrap; where it was torn at the elbow one could see part of a stained blue nightdress.
She asked Thorsen for two thousand francs, and when he gave her the money she put the notes carefully under the clock. Then, opening the wrap, she went to the bed and sat down wearily.
Thorsen began to curse her, at first gently, feeling his way among the obscenities like a man reluctantly paying out money. He spoke in Danish, and she looked at him, blankly, neither understanding
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