"Yes."

"Even if it's not your baby?"

"I'm sure I'll love your baby. I love you. Hell, I love Walli. Live with me, please."

"Oh, God," she said, and she started to cry. "I was hoping and praying you'd say this."

"Does that mean you will?"

"Of course. It's what I'm longing for."

Dave felt as if the sun had risen. "Well, then, that's what we'll do," he said.

"What are we going to do about Walli? I don't want him to die."

"I have an idea about that," Dave said. "I'll tell you after the show."

"Go onstage, they're waiting for you."

"I know." He kissed her mouth softly. She put her arms around him and hugged him. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too, and I was crazy to ever let you go."

"Don't do it again."

"Never."

Dave went out. He ran across the grass and up the steps to where the rest of the band were waiting in the wings. Then he was struck by a thought. "I forgot something," he said.

Buzz said irritably: "What? The guitars are onstage."

Dave did not answer. He ran back to his dressing room. Beep was still there, sitting down, wiping her eyes.

Dave said: "Shall we get married?"

"Okay," she said.

"Good."

He ran back to the scaffold.

"Everyone okay?" he said.

Everyone was okay.

Dave led the band onto the stage.

*

Claus Krohn asked Rebecca to have a drink after a meeting of the Hamburg parliament.

She was taken aback. It was four years since she had ended their love affair. For the past twelve months, she knew, Claus had been seeing an attractive woman who was the membership officer of a trade union. Claus meanwhile was an increasingly powerful figure in the Free Democratic Party, to which Rebecca also belonged. Claus and his girlfriend were a good match. In fact, Rebecca had heard they were planning to get married.

So she gave him a discouraging look.

"Not at the Yacht Bar," Claus added hastily. "Somewhere less furtive."

She laughed, reassured.