Against the Tide (20 page)

‘No wonder he beat me if he was good enough to be in the Dutch team.'

Joan hesitated. ‘No, if I'm right, he wasn't in the Dutch team. He was a member of the 200 metre relay team. The German relay team.'

20

‘You klutz, Jack. For someone so bright, you act like a complete schmuck over girls. For fuck's sake, can't you see what's happening?'

‘Stop swearing, Saul. Dress like a stupid gangster, if you must, but stop trying to act like one.' I tapped his black homburg. ‘It's not as if your “
head is worth a hat
.”'

With a flick of my wrist, I sent it sailing out over the terrace. It wobbled in the evening air, its flight disturbing the moths around the spotlight above Nelson's table before plopping into his wife's lap. She looked up in bewilderment before Nelson grabbed it from her, spun round to see where she was looking and prepared to launch it over the rails into the water.

‘No! Please Nelson!' Saul screeched.

Nelson smiled and put it on his head. The crowd around his table cheered then took up the cue and started to plead with him, mimicking Saul's South African accent.

‘Bastard.' Saul turned on me. ‘What did you do that for?'

‘To shut you up. Keep your nose out. You know as much about girls as I do and don't pretend otherwise and speak properly. You're meant to be educated. So what was my reference?'

‘Head not worth a hat?
As You Like It
, you arse; Rosalind, and wouldn't you just love to play Orlando?' He leant closer to me and wrinkled his nose. ‘“
This is the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril
.” What is that? Disinfectant?'

‘It's Zizanie by Fragonard. Something Caroline gave me. It's supposed to go well with evening wear.'

‘
Stront vir breins.
You let her choose your cologne as well. And you're still wearing it.
Poephol
– you deserve each other.'

‘Well it's better than smelling of old tobacco and rancid hair oil, like you.'

‘You don't know my reference, do you?'

‘Fortunately, I didn't have to swallow the complete works of the Bard as a punishment for my foul-mouthed behaviour in class. But, as you did, I'm sure you're going to tell me.'

‘“
A pox on you.
” Any scholar would tell you its Falstaff from the
Merry Wives of Windsor
. Anyway, what's wrong with my hair preparation? I'll have you know that this is the best Brylcream you can get – straight from the vending machine outside the shop.'

‘I've heard that the machine is down to its last few pints and those have been there since last season.' I couldn't be angry with him for long but I had to try. ‘Anyway, I've got a bone to pick with you.'

‘Hah, I will eat with you, drink with you
…
but I'm not going to pick bones with you.'

I ignored his attempt to get the game going again. ‘Why did you lie to me about Rachel?'

‘Which particular lie was that?'

‘Rescuing her from her father and all that nonsense.'

‘That was a joke, you dummy. I wanted to see if you really cared.'

‘And?'

‘So, I was wrong. You do. But what about madam?'

‘You tell me. We're not speaking.'

‘You chuck her in the harbour, she sees you cavorting with her rival. So, what did you expect?'

‘Well you're not much bloody help.'

‘Tut, tut.' Saul reached into the inside pocket of his white tuxedo to extract a silver cigarette case. He'd been flaunting his eccentricity for years, careless of what others thought. For all that, he was still my closest male friend but I was beginning to regret giving him the edited version of the episode with Rachel at the pool and my suspicion that Caroline had called the police. Yet who else could I confide in? I hadn't mentioned Joan's belief that Kohler was German, nor that Rachel had discovered she was part Jewish. He, of all people, would understand what that meant to her but I was sworn to secrecy. It was up to her to tell him, not me.

Tommy Arnold's band started to play again and Saul watched in horror as Nelson took his hat for a dance. Soon it was being passed from couple to couple and I had to pull him back from running down the stairs to make an even bigger fool of himself by trying to retrieve it.

It was another spectacular summer's evening, the merest breath of wind. As the warm glow from the west faded, the rich blue of the sky seemed to drain into the sea, sharpening the horizon to a knife-edge. Spotlights, which had sparkled in the pre-dusk light, now dazzled on the terraces. The party of officers and ratings from the destroyer, in their best uniforms, were mingling with the club members. Some of the younger females were flirting. Saul shared his thought that it wouldn't be long before Wendy, the club “bicycle”, ushered one of the matelots up to the cabins to test her tyres.

We rested our arms on the railings, observing, but apart from, the ball below. Saul smoked in what he believed to be a sophisticated way while I coughed in his ear. How long before he brandished an ivory holder for his du Maurier fags I wondered. There was no sign of Caroline or Rachel.

I poked him in the ribs. ‘What's the time?'

He clamped his half-smoked cigarette between his teeth and extracted a gold hunter watch from another inside pocket. He held it at chain's length and angled it so that the floodlights above us illuminated the face.

‘Nearly ten o'clock'. He started to cough. His fag dropped from his mouth, bounced on his chest and deposited a column of grey ash, then landed on his shiny leather shoe.

I bit my lip.

He dusted himself down and nudged me. ‘Well, my prince, I think Cinderella's just arrived.'

I looked towards the end of the bridge and spotted Rachel swishing through the gate in a long black evening dress with a full skirt. Her hair was coiled up and she was wearing short white gloves, which covered her wrists. She had a white shawl draped round her bare shoulders. What looked like my Saint Christopher on its silver chain nestled above her cleavage.

‘You'll catch a few moths if you let your mouth hang open like that.' Saul clapped me on the shoulder of my borrowed dinner jacket. ‘She does look stunning though. You wait here and catch the insects, I'm going to ask her to dance.'

Before I could react, he was racing down the steps. He rushed across the floor, recaptured his homburg from Nelson's head and dashed towards Rachel. He skidded to a halt in front of her, his hat back on his head, and bowed, removing the homburg with a flourish.

I couldn't hear their conversation but I could see her laughing and soon they were dancing. While I had focused my physical efforts on sports training, Saul had spent his time in the Plaza de Danse and now had all the moves. They looked good together and those miserable butterflies of jealousy were trapped in my stomach again. Rachel followed him with ease as the music changed into a quickstep and he spun her round the floor.

As Saul had predicted, Wendy clattered up the steps in her white high heels, a young seaman in tow, heading for the darkness of the upper crescent of cabins. I ignored her girlish giggles as her partner patted her ample buttocks but I was left with the image of the poor matelot riding downhill without brakes.

I waited until they'd found their berth then descended the steps quietly and stood in the shadows by the manager's office, where I could watch the gyrations on the dance floor.

I looked around for Joan but couldn't see her. She had told me that she thought she had some photographs of various swimmers from Berlin and would look through them to find Kohler. Perhaps she was mistaken.

The band changed the tempo into a waltz and couples started leaving the floor, including Saul and Rachel. They spotted me, manoeuvred their way through the tables and chairs, stopped at an empty one and called me over. I could no longer sulk in the shadows so I joined them.

‘You look stunning, Rachel, that's a lovely dress.' I wanted to say much more, but not in front of Saul.

‘She made it herself, Jack. She's very clever, and such a willing partner as well.' He winked at me. ‘Come on, sit down and let's have a drink.' He signalled the nearest waiter, who ignored him. ‘Sod it. I'll go and get them. What would you like, Rachel?'

She looked unsure. ‘Just a small glass of wine, please. Perhaps with some lemonade in it.'

‘Well, we all know what you want, Captain Virtuous.' Saul marched off to fight for attention at the bar.

I looked at Rachel, soaking in her freshness, the warmth in her eyes. My stomach still churned. I knew Saul found her attractive but couldn't believe that she could fall for his louche persona, cultivated from watching too many Hollywood films. However, if she saw beneath the contrived act, she might find him a fascinating and attractive young man. I realised that I didn't want her to make that effort, so perhaps that was jealousy nibbling away inside.

‘You really do look fabulous tonight.'

‘Why thank you, sir, you don't look so bad yourself – my compliments to your father's tailor.' She looked around to see if Saul was returning then leant across the table. ‘How much have you told him?'

‘Too much. He knows about our… swim but nothing else.' I reached across to hold her hand.

She avoided my touch until she'd discarded her shawl and peeled off her glove. ‘No wonder he's been cool.' She sighed. ‘There's so much to talk about, but not here.'

I felt the warmth through her fingertips and teased them with mine. ‘Shall we go for a walk?'

‘We can't leave now. Saul will be back any moment.'

‘Okay, after the dance. I'll tell him I'm walking you home.'

‘But he's planning to invite people back to his place.'

‘Well tell him you have to get something before or –'

‘That's enough of that. Find your own date.' Saul presented Rachel with a glass of champagne, placed a similar glass down for himself then extracted a Coke bottle from one pocket and a tumbler from the other for me.

He sat down between us, pulled our hands apart and offered Rachel her discarded glove. ‘Don't make me feel like a gooseberry. Here, Jack, do you want to liven that up?' He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim silver flask. ‘Best cognac.'

I shook my head then turned to Rachel, who surprised both of us by nodding. He dribbled some into her glass then poured a good measure into his. ‘Bottoms up.'

Rachel giggled as the bubbles went up her nose. ‘This is fun. I do hope you are going to let Jack dance with me, Saul.'

‘Hey, talking of dancing, here's one for you. There's this couple preparing for conversion to the Jewish faith.'

I groaned. Of course, he didn't know. I glanced at Rachel but she was wearing the expression she usually reserved for Saul when he attempted to amuse us with one of his stories.

She considered him over her glass. ‘I hope this isn't going to be too rude.'

‘Relax, it's pretty clean. Anyway, they meet the rabbi for their final session and he asks if they have any last questions.

‘The man asks, “Is it true that men and women don't dance together?”

“Yes,” says the rabbi, “for modesty reasons, men and women dance separately.”

“So I can't dance with my own wife?”

“No.”

“Well, okay,” says the man, “but what about sex?”

“That's fine,” says the rabbi, “it's a
mitzvah
within the marriage!”

“What about different positions?” the man asks.

“No problem,” says the rabbi.

“Woman on top?” the man asks.

“Why not?” replies the rabbi.

“Well, what about standing up?”

“No,
certainly not
!” says the rabbi. “That could lead to dancing.”'

We both laughed though Rachel's turned into hiccups caused by the bubbles rather than the humour.

‘You see. You don't have to be rude to be funny.'

‘Where did you get that one?' I asked. ‘Your cousin Ruben again?'

‘Sure, Jack, he keeps them coming. He's writing them all down and is going to publish them.'

‘Who's Ruben?' Rachel spoke through her hiccups.

‘My second cousin. Works as a manager at the Hillcrest Country Club in Los Angeles. Most of the members are a bit special.'

‘In what way?' she asked.

‘They're Jewish.'

She shrugged. I wondered if she was trying to forget her own secret. She was certainly giving no indication to Saul. ‘And?'

‘Well, here are a few of the names. You work out the rest. Jack Benny, George Burns, Milton Berle, Groucho Marx… you want me to go on?'

‘Surely they wouldn't tell jokes like that in public,' she said.

Saul sighed. ‘Of course not, but that's the joke. They don't know that Ruben is writing them down.'

She still didn't look too impressed and Saul rolled his eyes at me.

The band changed tempo again to a quickstep and couples started to return to the floor.

I stood and bowed. ‘May I have the honour?'

‘When you feel my tap on your shoulder that means it's an “excuse me”, so go and tap someone else or sit down, otherwise I'll pour your Coke into your pocket,' Saul cautioned.

Rachel allowed me to lead her onto the floor. We soon got into a comfortable rhythm and I pulled off some good reverse turns, surprising myself with some nimble footwork as I held her tight and swirled her round. We were concentrating so much on our movements that it was impossible to talk.

As we pivoted in the corner nearest the gate, I saw Kohler and Caroline arrive arm in arm. I stumbled and we almost fell. Rachel had her back to the gate and didn't spot them sweep in. Everyone else did and the whole clockwise gyration seemed to pause as all eyes focused on them.