Page 397 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

"Of course. But no doubt your nights at home would be all the sweeter."

"Bernd, you're so good."

"You have to do this," he said. "It's your destiny."

She gave a little laugh. "That's what Claus said."

"I'm not surprised."

Her husband and her ex-lover both thought that this was what she should do. She thought so too. She felt apprehensive: she believed she could do it, but it would be a challenge. National politics was tougher and nastier than local government. The press could be vicious.

Her mother would be proud, she thought. Carla ought to have been a leader, and probably would have been if she had not got trapped in the prison of East Germany. She would be thrilled that her daughter was fulfilling her defeated aspiration.

They talked it over for the next three evenings, then, on the fourth, Dave Williams arrived.

They were not expecting him. Rebecca was astonished to see him on the doorstep, wearing a brown suede coat and carrying a small suitcase with a Hamburg airport tag. "You could have called!" she said in English.

"I lost your number," he replied in German.

She kissed his cheek. "What a wonderful surprise!" She had liked Dave back in the days when Plum Nellie was playing on the Reeperbahn, and the boys had come to this apartment for their only square meal of the week. Dave had been good for Walli, whose talent had flowered in the partnership.

Dave came into the kitchen, set down his suitcase, and shook hands with Bernd. "Have you just flown in from London?" Bernd asked.

"From San Francisco. I've been traveling twenty-four hours." They spoke their usual mixture of English and German.

Rebecca put coffee on. As she got over her surprise, it occurred to her that Dave must have some special reason for this visit, and she felt anxious. Dave was explaining to Bernd about his recording studio, but Rebecca interrupted him. "Why are you here, Dave? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," said Dave. "It's Walli."

Rebecca's heart missed a beat. "What's the matter? Tell me! He's not dead . . ."

"No, he's alive. But he's a heroin addict."

"Oh, no." Rebecca sat down heavily. "Oh, no." She buried her face in her hands.

"There's more," said Dave. "Beep is leaving him. She's pregnant, and she doesn't want to raise a child in the drug scene."

"Oh, my poor little brother."

Bernd said: "What is Beep going to do?"

"She's moving into Daisy Farm with me."

"Oh." Rebecca saw that Dave looked embarrassed. He had resumed his romance with Beep, she guessed. That could only make things worse for her brother. "What can we do about Walli?"

"He needs to give up heroin, obviously."

"Do you think he can?"

"With the right kind of help. There are programs, in the States and here in Europe, that combine therapy with a chemical substitute, usually methadone. But Walli lives in Haight-Ashbury. There's a dealer on every corner, and if he doesn't go out and score, one of them will knock on his door. It's just too easy for him to lapse."

"So he has to move?"

"I think he has to move here."

"Oh, my goodness."

"Living with you, I think he could kick the habit."

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