She did not merit a full-time bodyguard: she was not important enough to attract terrorists, thank God. All the same her door had a peephole so that she could check before opening up.

She was surprised to see Frederik Bíró outside.

She had mixed feelings. A surprise visit from her lover was a delight—but she looked a perfect fright. At the age of fifty-seven any woman wanted time to prepare before she showed herself to her man.

But she could hardly ask him to wait in the hall while she made up her face and changed her underwear.

She opened the door.

“My darling,” he said, and kissed her.

“I’m pleased to see you, but you’ve caught me unawares,” she said. “I’m a mess.”

He stepped inside and she closed the door. He held her at arm’s length and studied her. “Tousled hair, glasses, dressing gown, bare feet,” he said. “You look adorable.”

She laughed and led him into the kitchen. “Have you had dinner?” she said. “Shall I make you an omelette?”

“Just some coffee, please. I ate on the plane.”

“What are you doing in Hamburg?”

“My boss sent me.” Fred sat at the table. “Prime Minister Németh is coming to Germany next week to see Chancellor Kohl. He’s going to ask Kohl a question. Like all politicians, he wants to know the answer before he asks it.”

“What question?”

“I need to explain.”

She put a cup of coffee in front of Fred. “Go ahead, I’ve got all night.”

“I’m hoping it won’t take that long.” He ran a hand up her leg inside her robe. “I have other plans.” He reached her underwear. “Oh!” he said. “Roomy panties.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

He grinned. “I could get both hands inside there—both arms, maybe.”

She pushed his hands away and moved to the other side of the table. “Tomorrow I’m going to throw out all my old underwear.” She sat opposite him. “Stop embarrassing me and tell me why you’re here.”

“Hungary is going to open its border with Austria.”

Rebecca did not think she had heard him right. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to open our border. Let the fence fall into disrepair. Free our people to go where they want.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s an economic decision as much as a political one. The fence is collapsing and we can’t afford to rebuild it.”

Rebecca was beginning to understand. “But if the Hungarians can get out, so can everyone else. How will you stop Czechs, Yugoslavs, Poles . . .”

“We won’t.”

“. . . and East Germans. Oh, my goodness, my family will be able to leave!”

“Yes.”

“It can’t happen. The Soviets won’t allow it.”

“Németh went to Moscow and told Gorbachev.”

“What did Gorbi say?”

“Nothing. He’s not happy, but he won’t intervene. He can’t afford to renew the fence either.”

“But . . .”

“I was there, at the meeting in the Kremlin. Németh asked him straight out, would the Soviets invade as they did in 1956? His answer was nyet.”