He got off the bed and laid the table with cutlery and plates. He had brought home two steaks. Naturally diplomats were not subject to the shortages that afflicted the Poles. They were paying in desperately needed dollars: they could have anything they wanted. Lidka was probably eating better than even the Communist Party elite.

Cam wondered whether to make love to her before or after eating the steaks. Sometimes it was good to savor the anticipation. Other times he was in too much of a hurry. Lidka never minded either way.

At last she arrived home. She kissed his cheek, put down her bag, took off her coat, and went along the hall to the bathroom.

When she came back he showed her the steaks. “Very nice,” she said. Still she did not look at him.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Cam said. He had never known her to be ill-tempered. This was unique.

“I don’t think I can be a CIA wife,” she said.

Cam fought down panic. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“I’m not going back tomorrow. I won’t put up with it.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I feel like a criminal.”

“Why, what did they do?”

At last she looked directly at him. “Do you believe I’m just using you to get to America?”

“No, I don’t!”

“Then why did they ask me that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does the question have anything to do with national security?”

“Nothing at all.”

“They accused me of lying.”

“Did you lie?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t tell them everything. I’m not a nun, I’ve had lovers. I left one or two out—but your horrible CIA knew! They must have gone to my old school!”

“I know you’ve had lovers, I have too.” Though not many, Cam thought, but he did not say it. “I don’t mind.”

“They made me feel like a prostitute.”

“I’m sorry. But it really doesn’t matter what they think of us, so long as they give you a security clearance.”

“They’re going to tell you a lot of nasty stories about me. Things they’ve been told by people who hate me—girls who are jealous, and boys I wouldn’t sleep with.”

“I won’t believe them.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

She sat on his lap. “I’m sorry I was grouchy.”

“I forgive you.”

“I love you, Cam.”

“I love you, too.”

“I feel better now.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to make you feel better?”

This kind of talk made Cam’s mouth dry. “Yes, please.”

“Okay.” She stood up. “You just lie back and relax, baby,” she said.

• • •

Dave Williams flew to Warsaw with his wife, Beep, and their son, John Lee, for the marriage of his brother-in-law, Cam Dewar.

John Lee could not read, although he was an intelligent eight-year-old and went to a fine school. Dave and Beep had taken him to an educational psychologist, and had learned that the boy suffered from a common condition called dyslexia, or word-blindness. John Lee would learn to read, but he would need special help and he would have to work extra hard at it. Dyslexia ran in families and afflicted boys more than girls.