Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (107 page)

'You don't trust me, do you?' She forced a weak smile.

'On the contrary. I simply wouldn't want anything to
happen to you. Especially since your friend the King might
hold me personally responsible.'

She nodded. 'Thank you,' she said tartly. 'I'm sure Miss
Meier and I will sleep more easily knowing we are under your
protection.' She extended her slender white hand and he
shook it. Politely he held open the door for her. Crossing
the threshold, she hesitated and turned around. 'Brigadier
Diggins. . .
'

He looked at her questioningly.

'This . . . this Simon Boralevi.'

'Schmarya Boralevi,' he corrected with a half-smile.

'Whoever.' She waved her hand airily. 'Does this mean he's
still at large?'

'I'm afraid it does.'

'Then you'd do well to double your efforts to catch him, I
would think,' she told him solemnly.

'I'm in the process of doing just that.' He smiled crookedly,
and despite the roasting heat, she felt an arctic chill.

She didn't like playing cat and mouse, especially not when her father was the mouse and she was being used as bait. She would have to stay on her toes; this wasn't at all like making
movies.

Chapter 23

Two hours before sunset. A Wednesday. Thirteen days had
gone by since she had placed the ad in the
Davar
and
Haaretz,
Tel-Aviv's two dailies. She and Inge were sitting under the
vine-shaded arbour in the back of the small hotel, the remains
of their dinners on their plates. The temperature was dropping, and a delicious cool breeze fluttered past, rustling the
leaves overhead and rippling the checkered tablecloths.
Tamara sat in silence, tapping a thumbnail against her teeth as
she stared out at the sea and the relentless, crashing breakers
spending themselves against the shore. She was a million miles
away, lost in thought.

Inge was about to eat the forkful of leek-and-potato pie
when she noticed Tamara's blank look. She laid her fork down
and pushed her chair closer to Tamara's. Smiling gently, she
said, 'You will hear from him soon. I know you will.'

'It's been almost two weeks. Something's wrong or he would
have been in touch with me by now.'

'Maybe he has gone away somewhere. Or he is very busy.
It could be that he is not even aware of your message yet.
It may take time for him to see it. You must be patient. I
think maybe the problem is that you have been waiting too
anxiously.'

'How do you mean?'

'Well, the longer we sit here doing nothing but waiting for
him, the longer it will seem to take,' Inge said with philosophi
cal directness. 'There are many things to do and see. I do not
say waiting is wrong, but concentrating on only that will drive
you crazy.'

'But we did go and see some things,' Tamara protested
defensively. 'We went to Tiberias and saw the Sea of Galilee,
which was nothing more than a fair-size lake, and we went to
Jerusalem—'

'That is exactly what I mean!' Inge said. 'Two little trips in
two weeks. You call that sightseeing?'

'I know there's a lot more to see, but do you really expect
me to trudge around ruins and churches while I'm dying to
hear from my father?'

'It would be better than to climb walls.'

'I'm not climbing walls yet,' Tamara contended halfheartedly. 'I'm just
...
a little anxious.' She picked up her wine
glass and drained it in one swallow.

Inge narrowed her eyes. 'If you were a cat you would be
walking back and forth on the roof.' Her expression suddenly
softened and she tilted her head. 'Tamara, you know I only want what's best for you. I only want to make things easier.'

Tamara leaned one elbow on the table and cupped her hand
on her chin. She looked at Inge and said slowly, 'I'm starting
to hate this place. It's awful and boring and filthy. I can't
imagine anyone wanting to live here. As far as I'm concerned,
the Arabs can keep it.'

Inge looked startled. 'That is because you are not giving it
a chance. Myself, I rather like it.'

'Who asked you?' Tamara hissed in a voice that was like a
blade of steel. 'Why can't you just shut up?'

Inge could only stare at her in disbelief. When she finally
spoke, her voice was crisp and distant. 'Tamara. Do not be
like this.'

'Like what?'

Inge leaned across the table and waved her fork angrily in
the air. 'You know like what! Like a spoiled child. It is not
becoming. You have not behaved in this way since you were
two or three, at the Danilov Palace in St. Petersburg. I will
never forget how furious you were when you could no longer
play in the palace's toy room and had to be content with your
own few toys. I spanked you then.'

Tamara looked at her in surprise. 'You did? I don't remem
ber you ever spanking me.'

'I did.' Inge nodded emphatically. 'And you deserve it
again.'

Suddenly Tamara felt a smothering guilt. She was sorry for
having spoken so harshly, sorry for having taken her anger out
on Inge. Through thick and thin, Inge had mothered her,
cared for her, uprooted her own life over and over again. 'I'm
sorry, Inge,' Tamara apologized huskily, 'I didn't mean to be nasty. I don't know what's got into me.' She shook her head.
'My nerves are so frazzled that I didn't even realize how
impossible I was getting.'

'Well, now that you do, you can do something about it.
And trust me.' Inge wagged an admonishing finger in the air.
'Yesterday my ears are ringing, and that means somebody was
thinking and talking about us, and that somebody will show
up. Go ahead. Be sceptical. I am right, you will see.'

At that very moment the sun was suddenly blocked out and a long purplish shadow fell across their table. 'Could it be that
your ears were ringing because
I
was coming to see you?' said
a silky British voice.

Tamara looked up with a startled expression. The man had
appeared so soundlessly, so stealthily, that neither she nor
Inge had heard his approach, and she was momentarily
thrown, and dismayed as well, for she hadn't expected Briga
dier Diggins to materialize virtually out of thin air.

From his expression, it was impossible to tell if he had over
heard anything important. He clicked his heels together and
gave a slight bow. 'Good evening, ladies,' he said pleasantly,
tapping his riding crop against one thigh. 'I trust you are enjoy
ing your stay?'

He had positioned himself cleverly, Tamara noticed, so that
the sun shone from behind him and his face, under the tilted
visor of his peaked tan cap, was in shadow, while hers was
bathed in sunlight, every expression and nuance exposed. No,
she must never, never underestimate him. He was very sly.

Raising her thinly plucked eyebrows, she said, 'Why, Briga
dier Diggins! How
nice
to see you.' She favoured him with her
best false smile. 'At last, someone who speaks English. As I
was just telling Miss Meier, all the Hebrew and Arabic jabber
has been driving me up the wall.' She gestured to an empty chair. 'Won't you join us for a glass of wine?'

'I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I was just passing through when
it occurred to me how derelict I've been in my duty.'

'Derelict? I don't believe I understand.'

'I haven't been checking up on you as I had promised I
would.'

She thought:
Have I only imagined that someone has constantly been spying on us!
'You're a busy man,' she said. 'One can't expect you to be everywhere at once.'
But that's exactly
what I
will
expect from now on. Clearly, he has eyes every
where.

He turned to Inge. 'And how are you enjoying your stay,
Miss Meier?'

Inge gave him a bland smile. 'I rather like it here. More so
than Tamara does, I am afraid.'

'I see.' He turned his attention back upon Tamara. 'Then
that must be the reason you are staying on despite the fact that
you're not totally enchanted? For Miss Meier's sake?'

Tamara forced herself to hold his gaze, knowing that if she
lowered it she could not give credence to her words. 'Well,
yes and no,' she said slowly. 'You see, I've been overworked
for so long, and then the weeks it took travelling to get here
have only exhausted me further. I'm afraid it's recuperation
time for me. I really have little choice. Hopefully, the sea and
the sun will revive me.'

'Ah. Then that will explain why you have not been going on
more outings.'

So he has had people spying on us.'
I
am gratified to see that although you could not personally be beside us all this time, we have indeed been under your protection, Brigadier,' she
said drily.

'As I believe I told you when you first arrived, you are a
very important visitor.'

Is he sneering at me?
'I see that I am indeed fortunate, Brigadier. Everywhere I go, I seem to have a guardian angel.
In Hollywood, the head of my studio was very protective of
me, and here I have you. What more could a person ask for?'

'Caution,' he suggested. 'You have exercised it so far, and
I am glad that nothing bad has befallen you. I hope the rest of
your stay will be as uneventful.' He touched the gleaming visor
of his cap and gave a little bow. 'Well, I really must be off. I
hope I see you again soon.'