Night Over Water - Ken Follett [60]
They were silent while the waiter cleared away their untouched soup. She’s done it, Margaret thought; she actually had the guts to come out and say it. Now will she get away with it?
Margaret could see that Father was already disconcerted. It had been easy for him to scorn Margaret for wanting to stay behind and fight against the Fascists, but it was harder to deride Elizabeth, because she was on his side.
However, a little moral doubt never troubled him for long, and when the waiter went away he said: “I absolutely forbid it.” His tone was conclusive, as if that ended the discussion.
Margaret looked at Elizabeth. How would she respond? He wasn’t even bothering to argue with her.
With surprising gentleness, Elizabeth said: “I’m afraid you can’t forbid it, Father dear. I’m twenty-one years old and I can do what I please.”
“Not while you’re dependent on me,” he said.
“Then I may have to do without your support,” she said. “I have a small income of my own.”
Father drank some hock very quickly and said: “I shan’t permit it, and that’s that.”
It sounded hollow. Margaret began to believe that Elizabeth might really get away with it. She did not know whether to feel delighted at the prospect of Elizabeth defeating Father, or revolted that her sister was going to join the Nazis.
They were served Dover sole. Only Percy ate. Elizabeth was pale with fright, but there was a look of determination about her mouth. Margaret could not help admiring her fortitude, even though she despised her mission.
Percy said: “If you’re not coming to America, why did you get on the train?”
“I’ve booked passage on a ship from Southampton.”
“You can’t get a ship to Germany from this country,” Father said triumphantly.
Margaret was appalled. Of course you couldn’t. Had Elizabeth slipped up? Would her entire plan founder on this detail?
Elizabeth was unruffled. “I’m taking a ship to Lisbon,” she said calmly. “I’ve wired money to a bank there and I have a reservation at an hotel.”
“You deceitful child!” Father said furiously. His voice was loud, and a man at the next table looked around.
Elizabeth went on as if he had not spoken. “Once I’m there I’ll be able to find a ship going to Germany.”
Mother said: “And then?”
“I have friends in Berlin, Mother—you know that.”
Mother sighed. “Yes, dear.” She looked very sad, and Margaret realized she had now accepted that Elizabeth would go.
Father said loudly: “I have friends in Berlin, too.”
Several people at adjoining tables looked up, and Mother said: “Hush, dear. We can all hear you just fine.”
Father went on more quietly: “I have friends in Berlin who will send you packing the moment you arrive.”
Margaret’s hand went to her mouth. Of course, Father could get the Germans to expel Elizabeth: in a Fascist country the government could do anything. Would Elizabeth’s escape end with some wretched bureaucrat in a passport control booth shaking his head woodenly and refusing her an entry permit?
“They won’t do that,” said Elizabeth.
“We shall see,” said Father, and to Margaret’s ear he sounded unsure of himself.
“They’ll welcome me, Father,” Elizabeth said, and the note of weariness in her voice somehow made her sound more convincing. “They’ll send out a press release to tell the world that I’ve escaped from England and joined their side, just the way the wretched British newspapers publicize the defection of prominent German Jews.”
Percy said: “I hope they don’t find out about Grandma Fishbein.”
Elizabeth was armored against Father’s attack, but Percy’s cruel humor slipped under her guard. “Shut up, you horrible boy!” she said, and she began to cry.
Once again the waiter took away their untouched plates. The next course was lamb cutlets with vegetables. The waiter poured wine. Mother took a sip, a rare sign that she was upset.
Father began to eat, attacking the meat with his knife and fork and chewing furiously. Margaret studied his angry face, and was surprised to detect a trace of bewilderment beneath the mask of rage. It was odd to see him shaken: his arrogance normally weathered every