Rebecca was aghast to see that the discussion was going to be completely profitless. No one was listening: they had all made up their minds beforehand.
She was right. The two sides traded irritable remarks for a few more minutes, then the meeting broke up.
There was no photo opportunity.
As the Germans were leaving, Rebecca racked her brains for some way to rescue this, but came up with nothing.
In the lobby, Maria Summers said to Rebecca: "That didn't go the way I expected."
It was not an apology, but it was as near to one as Maria was permitted, by her position, to offer. "That's okay," said Rebecca. "I'm sorry there wasn't more dialogue and less point-scoring."
"Is there anything we can do to move the senior people closer together on this issue?"
Rebecca was about to say that she did not know, then she was struck by a thought. "Maybe there is," she said. "Why don't you bring President Bush to Europe? Let him see for himself. Have him talk to the Poles and the Hungarians. I believe he might change his mind."
"You're right," said Maria. "I'm going to suggest it. Thank you."
"Good luck," said Rebecca.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Lili Franck and her family were astonished.
They were watching the news on West German television. Everyone in East Germany watched West German television, even the Communist Party apparatchiks: you could tell by the angle of the aerials on their roofs.
Lili's parents were there, Carla and Werner, plus Karolin and Alice, and Alice's fiance, Helmut.
Today, May 2, the Hungarians had opened their border with Austria.
They did not do it discreetly. The government held a press conference at Hegyeshalom, the place where the road from Budapest to Vienna crossed the border. They might almost have been trying to provoke the Soviets into a reaction. With great ceremony, in front of hundreds of foreign cameras, the electronic alarm and surveillance system was switched off along the entire frontier.
The Franck family stared in incredulity.
Border guards with giant wire cutters began to slice up the fence, pick up great rectangles of barbed wire, carry them away, and throw them carelessly into a pile.
Lili said: "My God, that's the Iron Curtain coming down."
Werner said: "The Soviets won't stand for this."
Lili was not so sure. She was not certain of anything these days. "Surely the Hungarians wouldn't have done this unless they expected the Soviets to accept it, would they?"
Her father shook his head. "They may think they can get away with it . . ."
Alice was bright-eyed with hope. "But this means Helmut and I can leave!" she said. She and her fiance were desperate to get out of East Germany. "We can just drive to Hungary, as if we're going on holiday, then walk across the border!"
Lili sympathized: she yearned for Alice to have the opportunities in life that she herself had missed. But it could not possibly be that easy.
Helmut said: "Can we? Really?"
"No, you cannot," said Werner firmly. He pointed at the television set. "First of all, I don't see anyone actually walking across the border yet. Let's see if it really happens. Second, the Hungarian government could change its mind at any time and start arresting people. Third, if the Hungarians really do start to let people leave, the Soviets will send in the tanks and put a stop to it."
Lili thought her father might be too pessimistic. Now seventy, he was becoming timid in his old age. She had noticed it in business. He had scorned the idea of remote controls for television sets, and when they rapidly became indispensable his factory had had to scramble to catch up. "We'll see," Lili said. "In the next few days, some people are bound to try to escape. Then we'll find out whether anyone stops them."
Alice said excitedly: "What if Grandfather Werner is wrong? We can't just ignore a chance like this! What should we do?"
Her mother, Karolin, said anxiously: "It sounds dangerous."
Werner said to Lili: "What makes you think the East German government will continue to allow us to go to Hungary?"