A Sense of Words

A SENSE OF WORDS Madeline Charlton

Judith knew that her assignment in Switzerland, translating for a big engineering firm, was going to be a challenge. But just how much of a challenge she didn't realize, until she met the stern head of the firm, Dieter Steiner, who believed only a man could tackle the job. So Judith had to prove him wrong!

CHAPTER ONE LONDON was hot. It was an oppressive, stifling, sticky heat that sent an uncomfortable trickle of perspiration down Judith's back; her clothes clung clammily to her. She was newly returned from a holiday at home among the fresh breezes of the Northumberland moors, and as she stepped with her case from the sticky shade of King's Cross and. struggled to commandeer a taxi she wondered—not for the first time—why she was spending her life working in a busy and airless city. Actually the answer was simple, she admitted ruefully; if she wanted to make use of her talent, a facility for foreign languages, she had little choice. Any translation agencies foolish enough to open their doors in the countryside would rapidly go bankrupt; a commercial city, particularly the capital of the country, was the only place for such an international concern. Still, she shouldn't grumble, she chided herself as the taxi bore her Bloomsburywards. Many girls would give their eye-teeth to be in her shoes; a well paid job that she enjoyed, a flat in 'swinging' London ... though to dignify it with the title of 'flat' was flattery, she admitted as she let herself in. Originally one large room, it had been divided with paper-thin partitions into two minute bedrooms and one not very much larger room that served as living-room-cum-dining-room-cumkitchen. The toilet facilities were along the corridor, shared with the other four apartments on the same floor; but it was clean and cheerful, not too expensive, and within easy walking distance of the agency where she and her flatmate Barbara worked. The heat as she entered made her gasp and move hurriedly across the room to fling open the window; glancing out briefly over the familiar view of backyards and dustbins and a few dusty plane trees, she switched on the kettle. A note on the table beside it caught her eye and she smiled as she scanned the scribbled lines; Barbara wrote

exactly as she talked—impulsively, flippantly. She loved to put on the most outrageous cockney accent. 'Dear Judy,' she read, 'welcome home, ducks. How were things in the frozen north? Plenty of eats in store, but we're short of coffee—I'm bringing some in tonight. Hope you've remembered it's your turn to pay the rent—I'm skint! 'Crisis in the office—our aristocratic lord and master would be "frightfully grateful" if you would contact him immediately you get back.' Judith raised a brow as she put down the note and made a drink—tea, in view of the coffee shortage. It must be urgent indeed if Anthony Crighton-Jones had gone to the trouble of leaving a message to contact him straight away— she still had two days of her holiday left before she was due at the office. However—she shrugged—if she was asked to give them up it wouldn't matter. She could easily take them later on—she had only intended to do a little shopping anyway; so after a refreshing cup of tea she clattered down the stairs to the hallway to use the telephone there. As only too often when urgently required it was completely dead, and she bit her lip in vexation: the nearest callbox was a couple of streets away, and also out of order more often than not. Grimacing, she decided it would be just as easy to call in and set off on the quarter-hour walk to Russell Square. The Crighton Translation Agency's premises just off the square were not large. Although the staff numbered over a hundred most were part-time freelancers, usually foreign students at nearby London University earning a little spare cash by translating documents into and out of their native tongues in their free time. Forty-six people were permanently employed, but some of those almost always worked away, so that only about thirty at a time frequented the head office, mostly concerned in the more common European languages or the increasingly required. Russian and Japanese. Judith was

employed in the German department, the language in which she was most fluent, though sometimes helping out in the French and Italian sections if they were hard pressed. Wondering in which department the crisis had arisen, she climbed the stairs and walked through Reception towards her employer's office, Barbara, who was his secretary, was engaged on the telephone, but she wiggled her beringed fingers in greeting, smiling affectionately at her friend. The call over, she greeted Judith exuberantly. 'Welcome back to civilisation, ducks!' she laughed. A Londoner born and bred, Barbara always pretended to believe Northumberland was only one degree south of the North Pole. 'Blimey, that can't be sunburn? It must be frostbite!' 'Let's say I'm weather-beaten,' grinned Judith in reply. 'What's the crisis, Barbie? Can't you do without me for a fortnight?' Barbara raised her finely-pencilled brows. 'My dear child, as our revered lord and master would say, the most frightful calamity! Or good riddance, depending on your point of view—anyway, to cut a long story short, Joe at last fulfilled his threats and walked out last Friday. Not a scrap of notice—just a full-blooded row with our beloved Anthony and out he slammed.' Judith pursed her lips. 'Silly fool! I sometimes think inverted snobs are the worst kind of all. Give Mr Tony his due—he isn't snooty. He can't help having a lah-di-dah accent, it's natural to him. But Joe never could see that— he always seemed to think it was put on expressly to show him up.' Barbara nodded agreement. 'Never mind, he's gone, and good riddance say I, though the boss is naturally furious at the way he's been dropped in the mire. Or, as he puts it, at the 'inconvenience of Joseph's sudden departure'. Which reminds me—I shan't be very popular if I keep you chattering out here! In you go, Judy love. See if

you can calm him down, for heaven's sake—he's been acting like a cat with its tail caught in the mangle since Friday!' Judith knocked on the door of her employer's office and entered. Anthony Crighton-Jones was frowning over what she recognised as her own personal file, but he smiled as she entered and stood up to offer her a chair. 'Come in, Judith my dear, do sit down. I hope you have had a pleasant holiday?' She answered him briefly, smiling inwardly. Impatient as he had been for her arrival, he was too much the gentleman to overlook the common courtesies. But the matter was obviously pressing, because after a very short while he shuffled rather uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. 'Yes. Well, I'm terribly sorry to drag you in before the end of your holiday, my child, but I'm really in rather a fix. Did Barbara explain?' 'She told me Joe Davis had walked out, that's all. I assume he was working on something urgent that you want me to take over. That's perfectly all right, Mr Tony, I don't mind a bit. I can come in tomorrow morning—or even start now, if you like—and -' 'Yes. Well,' he interrupted, 'I'm terribly grateful, my dear. But I'm afraid it's even worse than that. It's the most frightful thing to ask of you, when you've only just returned to town, but the contract he was about to begin was an outside one.' Judith sat up hurriedly, her eyes brightening. 'You want me to work away?' she asked eagerly. To work on the outside contracts, travelling around Europe, had been her dearest ambition. But such important jobs usually went to the more experienced of the staff, and anyway, she reminded herself sternly, he probably merely wanted her to work at the offices of a business somewhere in England, translating documents for them. 'Where?' she asked more soberly. 'Switzerland,' came the apologetic reply. 'I'm sorry to ask it of you, my dear, but it's a two-month contract and I have simply no one else

free for that period at such short notice, except Alan, who I don't consider suitable for the type of work involved, and David, whose wife is about to present him with a child very shortly. Naturally he doesn't want to work away from home at the moment. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to go?' Judith grinned at the question. 'Mr Tony, you must be crazy! I'd love it! I've always wanted to see the Alps, and never got around to it. As I work away from home my family not unnaturally expect me to spend my holidays there. Apart from the year I spent at Heidelberg University, I've never even been abroad! Though I suppose the place I'm to go to is in the industrial part of Switzerland, nowhere near the mountains?' 'Actually, ho.' Her employer permitted himself a faint sigh of relief. 'It's in Thun, right on the fringe of the tourist area. The Bernese Oberland, you know. So you'll be able to go sightseeing at the weekends, and it should really be quite pleasant,' he added persuasively, as though she needed to be convinced. 'I really shall be most terribly grateful if you will go, Judith. I would hate to let Steiner down. I haven't told him yet that Davis won't be going—so now I shall merely telex him to expect you instead.' He cleared his throat uncomfortably. 'Er—I don't think that I mentioned—he's expecting someone tomorrow,' he added with an apologetic cough. Judith raised her brows. 'It's as well I haven't unpacked! And as well that I've been home, so that my suitcases are full of clean clothes lovingly washed and pressed by my mother, and not crammed full of dirty holiday ones! Fair enough, Mr Tony, I'll manage it. Who did you say? Steiner? Isn't that the firm that I did the knitting machine booklet translation for?' He nodded. 'That's the one. Steiner Maschinenfabrik. They also manufacture typewriters—we have three, I think, in the office—and sewing machines.'

Judith grinned. 'Is it the sewing machine booklet they want translating—or rather re-translating? I must say it needs it! I bought one of their machines a couple of months ago, and the English in the instruction book is—well, peculiar, to put it kindly.' 'Really?' Her employer leaned forward, his professional interest aroused. 'In what way?' 'Just generally weird,' she said pensively. 'I remember one choice piece—about the thread tension. Something like: "If the stitching be too tightly performed, this can one by screw adjust of the tension knob",' she quoted with a splutter of laughter. 'It wasn't all as bad as that, and it's perfectly understandable, but certainly not "English as she is spoken".' He looked horrified. 'Good gracious! Such massacre of the English language is enough to start an Anglo-Swiss war! No, it isn't the sewing machine, although it sounds as though it should be. The firm have recently branched out into packaging machinery. It's rather technical and complicated, which is why they need the translator actually at the factory; I should have preferred to send a man, but I'm sure you'll cope, Judith. Your technical German is well above average and you did extremely well in those courses in engineering and electronics; I must admit that for a woman you have an absolutely amazing grasp of technical matters.' Judith bit her lip on a retort, seething under the implication that women were dim-witted creatures who couldn't tell a hammer from a hay-rake, as he went on, 'You made an extremely good show of that translation for Gray's Engineering, too—that was a very similar task to this one. Apparently one or two of Steiner's machines have been sold in England, and their clients are complaining they can't understand the manual—which is scarcely surprising if it's anything like the sewing machine brochure you just quoted. However, you may care to read his letter, while I send off a telex informing him of the change in arrangements.'

He bustled out, leaving Judith to peruse the neatly typed letter from Steiner Maschinenfabrik. It was in German, of course, a precise, businesslike document. The writer—Judith turned to the end to see that he signed himself D. B. Steiner—began by stating that he had been very pleased with the translation of the knitting machine booklet, and she gave a quick grin of pleasure. He then went on to explain about the new machinery, and the complaints from his clients. 'The instruction manual was translated by one of our own staff, who was responsible also for the French and Italian versions. I have had no complaints of these, but then of course German, French and Italian are all Swiss national languages and he could consult fellow workers if in doubt. As you are obviously well aware, it is much easier to translate into one's natural tongue than out of it; accordingly I feel that the English version should be placed in the hands of a native-born Englishman. I expect the work will take about eight or nine weeks. The person you send must be able to speak very fluent German, as he will have to communicate with some of the workmen who —while understanding standard German—will tend to speak in the local dialect. Some knowledge of Italian would also be useful as we employ a good many immigrant Italian workers. He must be capable not only of understanding how to use the machine, but also the mechanical details of its construction, as the material to be translated is a combined instruction book and repair manual. 'Your man will be accommodated free of charge in our hostel; this is a very pleasant, modern building with only two to a room. He will be allocated an office of his own; most of his work will be done there, though he will obviously have to spend a good deal of time in the factory, and visits to our other factories which manufacture some of the components may be necessary.' Judith pursed her lips. A forceful-sounding character, this D. B. Steiner. The letter went on to give more details of the work involved, and finished with a request to let him know immediately if they had anyone suitable.

'Well, what do you make of it?' inquired her employer as he reentered. 'Do you think you can cope with the requirements?' 'I expect so,' replied Judith equably. 'Though mind you, he seems to be expecting a man.' 'Well, he would naturally do so, for work of that nature. You must admit, Judith, that generally speaking women are not as technically minded as men—no, don't go all Women's Lib on me, my child, I'm not suggesting they are inferior, just different. You are one of the exceptions; in fact, I think you are probably more practical than a good many of our male staff. Didn't I hear that you started Alan's car for him a few weeks ago, when it had broken down?' Judith grinned. 'It was only a loose wire. It didn't need any great mechanical genius.' Anthony Crighton-Jones laughed. 'You're too modest, my dear child. The genius lay firstly in knowing that the wire was loose, and secondly in being able to replace it! I assure you my wife, for one, would never even have seen that the wire was loose—for the simple reason that she wouldn't have known that it ought to be attached somewhere. Come to that,' he added smilingly, 'I'm not sure. I would myself! So I'm sure that you'll prove very satisfactory to Herr Steiner. His constant use of the male pronoun means nothing, I feel sure— one can't write a letter saying 'he or she' and 'his or her' in every sentence. Anyway, I've sent a telex saying that Davis is no longer available and asking if he will accept you instead, and the answer should come through shortly. Meanwhile, shall we get down to details? We usually open an account with the client's bank for our overseas staff; your expenses and salary will be transferred into it and you can draw in the usual way by presenting your credentials. You'll start off with adequate advance expenses—your flight isn't until late morning, so if you come here first thing tomorrow your currency and

travellers' cheques can be arranged. You do have a valid passport, I trust?' he finished anxiously. Judith nodded. 'The one I had when I was at Heidelberg is still in force. Mr Tony, what was all that about some of the workmen not speaking standard German?' 'Well, I suppose you know that the Swiss are a somewhat polyglot nation, with no fewer than four official languages: German, French, Italian and a rather rare one called Romansch spoken in a few eastern valleys. But on top of that I believe each area has its own version of the main language; I suppose they arose because of difficulties in communication between the valleys in earlier years. Schweizerdeutsch or Swiss-German is very far removed from the standard High German as taught in England. It isn't a class thing, as our dialects tend to be—everyone speaks it; but because each district has its own variation the national newspapers and television use standard German in order to be understood by all. Naturally some of the less educated will not be able to speak it very well—in much the same way that a broad cockney will understand the BBC even though his own speech is altogether different.' 'Well, I grew to understand the Swabian dialect when I was in Heidelberg, so I dare say I shall manage,' remarked Judith philosophically. They spent some time discussing the work further, and after about half an hour Barbara walked in with the answering telex message. ' "Agreed. Steiner",' she read out with a raised brow. 'Chatty type, isn't he? May I bring your letters in for signature now, Mr Tony?' Glancing at his watch, he gave an exclamation of surprise. 'Heavens, yes. And you, Judith—away you go and make ready for the journey. I shall see you in the morning, my dear.'

Barbara winked at her flatmate as they left the room. 'Some people have all the luck!' she complained laughingly. 'Two months' paid holiday in cuckoo-clock land! So you've got your wish at last,' she added more seriously. 'And it proves that you were wrong when you said he would never send you abroad because you're female.' 'He made it fairly plain he hadn't much choice!' admitted Judith feelingly. 'And Barbie—do you know what? I've dreamed about this for so long—and now that it's finally happened, I'm scared out of my wits in case I make a mess of it!' 'You won't,' replied her friend confidently. 'Another thing, Judy—it shelves the problem of Alan neatly for a while, doesn't it?' Judith agreed thoughtfully. Her friendship with her colleague Alan Denver had worried her increasingly over the past few weeks; she liked him, he was a pleasant escort, and knew when to take 'no' for an answer—unlike only too many of the men who had asked her out since she came to London. But recently he had shown unmistakable signs of becoming serious about her, and try as she would she simply could not feel the slightest bit romantic about him. For one thing, she couldn't help knowing that she was considerably better at her job than he was, and certainly more practical; while rejecting vigorously the idea that women were inferior to men in anything other than physical strength she didn't feel that a married life in which she would always be the senior partner, always have to make the decisions and carry the burdens, would be a very enjoyable one. A two-month 'cooling off' period would be very welcome. There was little time that evening to worry either about that situation or the task ahead of her. The time was spent repacking her case with items suitable to the occasion, searching frantically for her passport which she had put away in a 'safe' place, and washing and drying her long brown hair, all of which, on top of the travelling from the north

and the exciting events of the afternoon, sent her to bed so exhausted that she was asleep before her fears had time to grip her.

The next morning went by in a. flurry of Swiss currency and air tickets and lists of instructions, then she was in a taxi to Heathrow and on the flight—her first—to Zurich. On the whole, she enjoyed it, especially take-off and landing, but thought the rest of the journey about as exciting as sitting in an armchair, and couldn't understand how anyone could be frightened of flying. There was no sensation of height, no feeling of being detached from earth; on the whole the bus-ride from the airport to the railway station, hurtling down what felt to be the wrong side of the road through busy traffic, was far more hair-raising. She located her train without difficulty and managed the change at Bern without mishap, and was feeling rather proud of herself as she settled into the seat for the last lap of the journey. The scenery was more interesting now, the unfenced farmlands of the Aare valley stretching away to forested hills on either side. The farmhouses had deeply overhanging eaves, a sort of halfway stage between the style of building she was used to and the true chalet of the mountains; ahead, veiled in a blue mist of distance and heat-haze, reared an incredible wall of towering peaks, the Bernese Alps. Judith looked out of the windows in delight and eavesdropped shamelessly on-the conversations around her; the dialect was almost unintelligible to her, but she noted the very many French words in common use in the otherwise Germanic language, and the thing that was immediately striking was the constant repetition of the phrase, 'jaa jaa.' A longer vowel, a more drawn out sound altogether than the true German word for yes, and yet in spite of that fact it seemed that the Swiss were incapable of using it on its own - always, with almost monotonous regularity, it was the double 'jaa jaa'.

Soon the train pulled slowly through industrial suburbs, very clean but in stark contrast to the picturesque backdrop of a castle perched high on a hill in the centre of the town, and drew finally to a halt in a station gaily decorated with flowers and within view of the canal where a ship was awaiting the connection for those who preferred to continue the journey onwards to Interlaken via the waters of Lake Thun. Judith scrambled out—the carriages, she had discovered, were very high and the platforms low—and appropriated a blue-smocked porter who took charge of her two cases. 'You are being met, Fraulein?' he inquired. Judith consulted her list of instructions and nodded. 'By the tram terminus,' she read out. The porter nodded and whisked with the ease of long practice through a mass of tourists and climbers to the front of the station, where it opened on to a wide square. She thanked and paid him, then looked around for whoever was meeting her. Gradually the crowd thinned until there was only one possibility, a man in his early forties standing by an impressive black chauffeurdriven Mercedes. Judith smiled at him questioningly, but his eyes looked straight past her. It was obvious that he was waiting for someone, but apparently not herself. She hoped in embarrassment that he didn't think she had been trying to pick him up. After about another ten minutes she glanced at her watch in increasing annoyance. Everything had gone smoothly to that point, but she was tired with the bustle of the journey nevertheless, and in no mood to appreciate being left standing on a foreign station because her transport was late. Not very efficient of Steiner Maschinenfabrik, she fumed. The man by the Mercedes seemed to be having no more luck than herself! He too kept glancing at his watch and frowning, and eventually strode off into the station, presumably to see if his passenger was waiting elsewhere. Suddenly Judith stiffened: now that he had moved, she could see the distinctive gold S-M-F

monogram on the side of the car. Kicking herself mentally, she picked up her cases and moved towards it, smiling at the man as he returned. 'Are you from Steiner Maschinenfabrik?' she asked brightly in her best German. On his rather startled confirmation, she smiled and held out her hand. 'How ridiculous—we've been staring at each other for so long! I'm the person you've come to meet—Miss Carter.' To her surprise he did not take her hand, but stared at her in consternation. 'Carter? You?' he queried uncomprehendingly. 'But you can't be. You're a woman.' Full marks for observation, thought Judith amusedly. 'Judith Carter,' she reiterated firmly. 'From the Crighton Translation Agency. No doubt you were expecting a Mr Davis; the alteration was made only yesterday. Herr Steiner knows all about it,' she added confidently. The man shook his head slowly. 'No, he doesn't,' he corrected her. 'I am Erich Hartmann, Fraulein Carter— Herr Steiner's secretary. I can assure you that there has been a terrible mistake. Herr Steiner is aware that Mr Davies is not coming, but he is definitely expecting a Mister Carter.' Judith's heart misgave her, but she forced a confident smile. 'He must have misread the telex,' she said easily. Erich Hartmann shook his head once more. 'I'm sure we didn't—but you had better come along and see Herr Steiner. If you would like to get into the car, Fraulein Carter, Karl will put your luggage in the boot.' Judith complied and sat quietly though rather uneasily as they drove through .the town, past the foot of the hill on top of which towered the old castle, and headed for the outskirts. The factory lay on a small and pleasant industrial estate; it was a modern building, long and low and clean- looking, with colourful flowerbeds decking the entrance.

She followed the secretary through a tastefully decorated reception area into a busy general office; busy, at least, as she entered, but which became suddenly still as she followed him through. She was aware of eyes staring, of raised brows. For heaven's sake! she thought impatiently. What on earth was the matter with them all? Several of them were girls—she had been beginning to be afraid the firm was an all-male concern, when she discovered Herr Steiner employed a man as his secretary and in view of the ill-concealed horror of that secretary on viewing her. But as that was not the case, why were they so surprised to .see her? Erich Hartmann led her through a small office that was obviously his own, and knocking briskly on a door at the other side, entered, motioning Judith to follow. A man was seated at the large desk in the room, a fair-haired man who looked up as they entered and stared at her with a pair of penetrating grey eyes. Judith smiled politely, but received in reply only a curt 'Gruezi!' Without taking his eyes off her he rapped out a brisk and unintelligible question in what she assumed must be the local dialect; Erich Hartmann answered in the same tongue, rather apologetically. Judith picked out her own name and that of the agency, but otherwise could only understand the odd word. She tried to appear unconcerned, inwardly fuming at what she considered their bad manners in discussing her in a language that she couldn't understand, as though she were not there at all. And then she rather wished that she wasn't, as the man—obviously Herr Steiner— once more fixed on her a pair of eyes the colour of cold rain-washed pebbles. 'I'm sorry, Fraulein Carter,' he said at length in a deep, forceful voice, this time speaking standard German so that she had no difficulty in understanding. 'It's a great pity that your employer was not more explicit in his message. If he had been, it would have saved you a tiring journey and himself the cost of your fare. You are not suitable for the work, Fraulein. My secretary will arrange accommodation for you until you can procure a flight back to London. Good day.'

With that, he gave a nod of dismissal and turned his attention back to signing the letters on his desk.

CHAPTER TWO 'BUT—but you can't just send me back like—like a faulty consignment!' spluttered Judith incredulously. For a moment she thought a gleam of humour softened the grey eyes, but there was no trace of it in his voice as Herr Steiner replied, 'Why not?' Momentarily Judith was stunned into silence. 'It's ridiculous,' she protested at length. 'How can you possibly know whether or not I'm suitable until you've given me a trial?' The Swiss factory owner leaned back in his chair and looked her over thoughtfully. 'There's no necessity for a trial, Fraulein Carter. I can see that you are unsuitable. You are female.' 'Well!' exploded Judith. 'Of all the arrogant statements! I knew Switzerland was very backward as regards female emancipation, but this is fantastic. I assure you I'm completely capable of doing the work. My employer wouldn't have sent me, otherwise! And may I remind you, Herr Steiner, that you agreed that I should come in place of Mr Davis?' 'No,' he corrected her coolly. 'Not you, as such. Your employer's telex was misleading—and deliberately so, I begin to suspect.' He leaned forward and extracted a piece of paper from a tray on the end of his desk. ' "Regret J. Davis unavailable. Suggest J. Carter who translated knitting booklet; please advise if agreed. Crighton-Jones." No mention, you see, of Miss Carter. Had I known of that important detail, I most certainly should not have agreed. In my original letter I stipulated that I required a male.' 'Nonsense!' retorted Judith briskly. 'You did nothing of the sort!'

There was a moment of frozen silence, and Judith thought with involuntary amusement that D. B. Steiner was not a man who was accustomed to being told that he was talking nonsense. He eyed her with brows perceptibly raised, then turned to his secretary and rapped, 'Find me the copy, Hartmann! Fraulein Carter, please sit down for a moment.' Thankfully Judith obeyed the request, though it had sounded suspiciously like an order. At least the situation seemed a little more promising; it appeared that he was now prepared to argue the point instead of rejecting her out of hand. Erich Hartmann returned with a file, and with a murmured excuse left the office. Herr Steiner read through the copy of his letter and frowned. 'Jaa jaa, it seems you're right—I didn't say in so many words that I required a man. But you must admit that it was perfectly clear.' 'Not at all,' retorted Judith swiftly. 'Only that you were under the impression that only a man would be capable of the work involved. But as I am capable of it, the matter seemed irrelevant.' He laid the file carefully aside. 'Unfortunately it is very relevant. You may think you are suitable—your employer may think you are suitable, but only I know exactly what is involved and I say you are not suitable. However, in view of the fact that I seem to be at least partially responsible for the misunderstanding, I am prepared to pay the expenses of your journey. Good day, Fraulein.' Judith swallowed; the thought of returning meekly to the office so soon, metaphorically speaking marked 'export reject', was humiliating. The man could at least give her a chance to prove herself! 'I do not see why I should be considered unsuitable just because I'm a woman,' she insisted stubbornly, her jaw jutting out in a fashion that her family would have recognised with foreboding.

He replied politely, but with forced patience. 'It isn't a case of a few little letters with one or two technical terms, Fraulein. It's an engineering job. You would have to understand all the technicalities of a complicated piece of machinery and that—even supposing you are mentally capable of it—would involve crawling around a dirty and probably oily factory floor.' His eyes appraised her swiftly, from her neatly-shod feet and long shapely legs, over the smart linen suit, to the long light brown hair cascading down her back, and his lips twisted into a mocking smile. 'Somehow I don't see you in the part!' She stifled the hot reply that rose to her lips. 'I'm dressed for travelling, not for working,' she persisted obstinately. 'I've brought my overalls and a cap for my hair. I'm not an idiot, Herr Steiner. I know quite well what's involved.' He waved aside her protest, though he was obviously surprised at her reply. 'I didn't mean to be insulting, Fraulein. I wasn't implying that you were not intelligent. I merely meant that mechanical skills are not a feminine attribute.' 'Generalisations,' retorted Judith between gritted teeth, 'are the resort of people too lazy to ascertain the truth of an individual case.' She noted with grim satisfaction that he was taken aback at her attack, and pressed home her advantage. 'I have done this sort of work before, you know; my employer is not so unprofessional as to send someone without experience. And you said yourself that you were very pleased with the knitting machine brochure.' 'It's hardly in the same category,' he replied dismissingly. 'The new machinery is highly complex. It was probably unnecessary to understand the mechanical details of the knitting machine in order to translate the instructions on how to use it.'

'Unnecessary or not,' she snapped, 'I felt I would make a better job of it if I did understand the workings. So I took it apart—and put it back together again!' 'And did it ever work again?' he inquired sardonically. 'Well enough! I asked to buy the machine when I was due to return it, but your agents insisted on supplying me with a brand new one. The machine in question was sent directly to a large London store and used as a demonstration model for months afterwards, so they can hardly have considered I ruined it. And as for it not being in the same category—I have done other work of this type; for instances, I recently translated a manual for Gray's Engineering for a bottling plant, and you must surely admit that is very similar to the service you require.' There was silence as he digested her words, the cool eyes appraising her carefully. Judith lifted her chin defiantly and gave him back stare for stare. He was younger than she had expected, to be in charge of such a large concern; in his early thirties, she guessed, with well-cut fair hair tending to curl slightly at the neck, a deeply tanned face with regular features, perhaps not conventionally handsome but goodlooking in a cold and stern fashion. He had capable brown hands, well-kept but strong and muscled, giving the impression that they were as likely to be used for working on his machines as for signing letters. Though he had remained seated throughout the interview the amount of broad chest and shoulders appearing above the desk gave the impression of a tall man. This was verified as, still without speaking, he stood up and crossed the room to a bookcase which appeared to be full of instruction manuals and descriptive leaflets of all sorts of machinery, from rival firms as well as his own. She watched warily as he sorted through several booklets, eventually producing one that she recognised instantly. 'This?' he queried briefly, holding up the manual she had

translated for Gray's. Wondering how he came to be in possession of a handbook belonging to a rival firm she nodded, watching uncomfortably as he reseated himself and, ignoring her presence, carefully scanned through the manual. He looked authoritative, very sure of himself and of what he was doing, and now the heat of anger had died Judith began to wonder how she had had the temerity to stand up to him. 'How much help did you have with this?' She jumped as his deep voice cut into her thoughts. 'None,' she replied warily. 'Apart from talking to the firm's engineers, of course.' 'You have studied technical German, then?' 'Naturally!' she retorted scornfully. 'Also basic engineering and electronics. A great deal of the work at the Agency is done for engineering firms, you know. Translators can't work properly on something they don't understand.' 'How old are you, Fraulein?' he shot at her suddenly. 'Old enough to know what I'm talking about!' she responded heatedly. The question, with its faint air of condescension, annoyed her and some demon prompted her to retaliate, 'Why, how old are you?' A faint smile touched the stern features, lighting them with humour. 'A male translator wouldn't have taken, offence at the question, Fraulein Carter. If you wish so desperately to be considered the equal of a man you must attempt to shed such coyness. To prove my point, I shall answer your question, impertinent—and irrelevant—though it was. I am thirty-two—and also therefore old enough to know what I am talking about. Now may I have the courtesy of a reply?'

'Twenty-five,' admitted Judith rather shamefacedly. She knew that she did not always look her age and that therefore her catalogue of her qualifications might have sounded a little incredible. This had obviously been one of those occasions; Herr Steiner looked her over searchingly, as though doubting the truth of her answer, before turning back once more to the manual. She could not help fidgeting a little as he perused her work with a thoughtful air, and when a faint smile touched his lips as though he had caught her out in a mistake she felt bound to comment defensively, 'It's much more difficult to translate into a foreign language than out of it. As is only too evident in your sewing machine instruction book,' she added unkindly. His attention caught, he looked across at her once more. 'What is the matter with the sewing machine booklet?' he demanded abruptly. 'It's laughable, that's what,' she retorted, then coloured as she realised she was behaving rather childishly. In answer he merely stood up and strode over to the bookcase again, this time extracting the brochure in question, then moved to stand by her side, handing it to her. 'Where?' 'All over,' she muttered, but sought out the thread tension section she had quoted to her employer and handed it back to him. He read it through carefully, then again, then looked at her questioningly. 'I'm no expert on the English language, but it's certainly not how I should have phrased it,' he admitted. 'You assert that it's nonsense?' 'Not nonsense,' conceded Judith fairly. 'It's quite intelligible—merely such terrible English that it's funny.' He tossed the booklet on to his desk and seated himself once more, looking pensively at the wall opposite. 'Our translator has been with us for a number of years, but it's only since his supervisor retired and

he took over the job entirely that we have had any complaints. It seems that his English is not up to standard and he is afraid to admit it. I find I do not all care for the idea of our English clients laughing at us,' he added slowly. 'How long would it take you to re-translate the booklet?' Judith was taken aback, but calculated quickly. 'One day, perhaps— certainly not more than two,' she stated confidently. 'I wouldn't need to take a machine apart as I'm already familiar with them.' 'May I inquire how?' 'I own one.' 'And a knitting machine,' he commented thoughtfully. 'What do you think of them?' Though surprised at the question, Judith answered truthfully. 'Very good. Rather more expensive than some of your competitors', but worth the extra for the quality and reliability.' 'That is what we aim for. The most sophisticated machine in the world is no use to anyone if it spends half its time in the repair shop ... And you think you can handle the wrapping machine project.' His tone implied strong doubt still, and Judith bridled. 'Yes,' she snapped. 'In fact, Herr Steiner, I'm sure of it. So sure that I'll guarantee that if you are not satisfied at the end of the contract I shall personally refund to you the salary I receive while I'm here!' 'A rash offer, Fraulein,' he remarked dryly. 'What if I express dissatisfaction and pocket your money, then use your translation?' Judith looked steadily into the cool grey eyes. 'A risk I should have to take,' she said calmly. 'I imagine that the man responsible for a firm whose watchword is reliability is himself reliable.'

'Is that an example of feminine intuition?' He looked amused at her expression as she refrained from comment. 'Very well, you have made your point. You will first translate the sewing machine booklet for us, and if that proves satisfactory we'll consider the other matter.' Judith relaxed in relief. Though she hadn't exactly won, she hadn't lost; the weeks ahead might well be no joy-ride, she was under no illusion that this man would go out of his way to make things easy for her—more likely the reverse—but at least she was not to be packed ignominiously back to England. She schooled her face to a businesslike expression and stood up. 'Certainly, Herr Steiner,' she began, but paused as he waved her back into her chair. 'One problem remains, however. That of where you are to be accommodated.' 'I—I understood I was to stay in the factory hostel,' she replied carefully, mistrusting the look in his eyes; his expression was bland, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eye as he answered. 'Of course, if you wish it, you can do so, Miss Carter.' Judith tilted her head on one side, trying to understand the stress he placed on her status, and he .went on smoothly, 'Provided that you have no objection to sharing a room with a brawny Italian machine operator .. She stared. 'You mean ...' He inclined his head. 'Precisely, Fraulein. It's a male hostel. We don't employ women in the factory.' 'Oh!' Judith stared at him in consternation for a moment, then raised her chin once more. 'Well, no doubt I can manage to find somewhere to stay. For tonight I'll go to a hotel, and then tomorrow -'

'And what makes you think you will find a hotel room free, at -' he consulted his watch—'nearly six o'clock in the evening, in the height of the tourist season?' 'I'll find somewhere,' she maintained recklessly. 'No doubt the Tourist Office will know of something.' 'But you are not a tourist,' he reminded her smoothly. 'In which case you have no right to bother them. Nor do I approve of the idea of a young girl tramping the streets at night looking for a room. You had better stay the night at my schali, and tomorrow my secretary will find accommodation for you.' 'But ...' protested Judith, then clamped her lips shut. She could think of nothing worse than an evening spent in the company of this arrogant man—unless it was the thought of meeting him over breakfast the next morning. But she really had no choice, she realised miserably. He had the whip hand, and she would have to do as she was told, at least until her position was more secure. 'Whatever you say, Herr Steiner,' she responded quietly. She supposed she should also thank him for his trouble, but that would be asking too much of her good nature. He was making little effort to disguise the fact that he found her a nuisance. The mildness of her reply seemed once more to cause him a little dry amusement as he lifted the telephone receiver and barked into it something that sounded like 'Get me Verena'. His wife, Judith supposed, waiting patiently as he continued signing his letters, wondering ruefully whether the other person with whom she was destined to spend the night was likely to be any more kindly disposed. Would she be very beautiful and sophisticated and intimidating? Or meek and timid, deferring to her formidable spouse in everything? The latter was the more likely, she decided; and there would be two children, two clean, tidy and frighteningly wellbehaved children ...

Her fantasy was interrupted as the telephone rang and he spoke into it once more. Judith strained to understand his words, but was unable to do more than gather vaguely that he was announcing to his wife that she was about to be presented with an unexpected guest. His voice was brisk and unloverlike, and Judith decided firmly on the meek wife. She would be scared to death of her imposing husband —and who could blame her! As he replaced the receiver he looked across at Judith with a slightly derisive air. 'How much of that did you understand?' he demanded, reverting to standard German for her benefit. Judith hesitated. The temptation to claim that she had understood him was strong, but could only too easily be disproved. 'Very little,' she admitted frankly. 'But no doubt most people will take pity on the poor foreigner and speak more slowly. I dare say I shall grow to understand it after a while.' 'Then you will be in a minority,' he admitted smoothly. 'However, you will find that most people speak some English, and almost all can speak standard German. We have to—even the Germans throw up their hands in horror when faced with our Schwyzerdeutsch! With some of the workmen you may find the accent rather thick, but you should be able to understand them if you persevere. If you stay long enough, that is.' He went back to signing his letters, leaving Judith sitting there rather nervously. Eventually they were finished and removed by the hovering secretary, then Herr Steiner cleared his desk and motioned Judith through the now deserted general office, exchanging a brief word with Erich Hartmann who was busy inserting the letters into franked envelopes. Judith was ushered out to the courtyard, where he held open the door of a dark metallic blue Citroen CX. 'My suitcases?' queried Judith hesitantly.

'Are already in the car—I told my secretary to arrange it,' he replied briskly, and closed the door on her before striding round to his own side. It was a silent drive, but Judith didn't mind. She was too busy looking out of the window at the streets so unlike those of an English town, the chalet-style houses and shops, the castle on the hill looking like something out of a fairy tale. Gleaming in the afternoon sun, it was yellowish-pink and red-roofed and pinnacled and turreted everywhere, and as unlike grim grey English castles as Swiss cheese from Dover chalk. Then they headed out of town along the side of the Thunersee, a lake so blue that she would never believed a photograph of it to be genuine. Wooded mountains rose steeply to her left, and to her right, on the opposite shore, higher counterparts reared sharply towards a blue sky; at the far end of the lake, above and behind the nearer ranges, peered several ' dazzling white snowcovered peaks of the High Alps. Judith drank it all in wordlessly, almost glad that she did not have to make the effort of making conversation. Before very long he pulled off the road and turned the car down a long drive, towards a large, old, typically Swiss chalet standing right on the lakeside. The ground floor, which originally would have been a cow-byre, had been converted at least partly into a large garage and as the car neared the doors they flew open, worked, Judith surmised, by an electronic eye; he parked the Citroen alongside an open limegreen American sports car, and Judith hastily revised her decision on the question of the meek wife. That was no car for a timid woman ... The front door, as in most chalets, was on the first floor, reached by wooden steps to the wide balcony running right around the house. To Judith's surprise and relief the girl waiting at the door was about her own age and wore a welcoming smile, along with faded blue jeans and a brief top. She was as fair as Herr Steiner, almost as deeply tanned, and like him very tall, almost as tall as Judith, who was apt to be described at home as a 'strapping big lass'. She was not at all what Judith had expected, but the latter hardly had time to recover from

her surprise before Herr Steiner placed a hand lightly under her elbow and ushered her forward, introducing them as the blonde girl took Judith's hand and shook it firmly. 'Vreni, this is Fraulein Carter. My sister Verena, Fraulein. I'm sorry we're a little late, Vreni— Fraulein Carter's arrival created a problem or two. Show her up to her room, will you—I'll bring her cases.' He clattered back down the steps, leaving Judith feeling rather uncomfortable. 'I hope my staying here isn't too inconvenient, Fraulein Steiner,' she began. 'Call me Vreni,' interrupted the other girl with a reassuring smile. 'It isn't inconvenient at all—having company breaks the monotony of my day. And Anni is used to unexpected guests for dinner; she always prepares a little extra just in case. Anni is our housekeeper, by the way. You'll met her later on, but at present she's busy with the dinner preparation and she hates to be interrupted! We dine fairly early here, Fraulein Carter—seven o'clock; I hope that will be all right for you.' 'Perfect,' agreed Judith, who to tell the truth was feeling rather hungry. 'And my name is Judith—Judy to my friends.' 'Come, then, Judy, I'll show you your room.' As Judith followed the Swiss girl up some stairs to the next floor she felt more at ease. At least his sister welcomed her ... He was not married, it would appear. In view of his evident low opinion of women that was perhaps not so very surprising. 'Oh, Vreni, it's lovely!' she exclaimed as she was led into a large room—about twice the size of the 'flat' she shared with Barbara—with pale green walls and curtains and a white bedspread and carpet. The window looked out over the lake and across to the mountains; Judith could see that much through the carving on the shutters which had been pulled across to keep out the hot afternoon sun.

'I'm glad you like it. I'll leave you now to prepare for dinner—we don't change, by the way, unless we have company. At least, we do, of course—I could hardly appear at the dinner table dressed like this! But just into an ordinary daytime dress, you understand. The bathroom is straight opposite, and if you need anything, my room is next door. And here is Dieter with your cases.' Judith smiled uncertainly as Herr Steiner set her cases down, but he merely nodded at her quiet thanks and departed without a word. She shrugged, and tried to remember in which her toilet accessories were packed. Half an hour later, bathed, refreshed, and dressed in a cool cotton dress in a print of mixed browns and oranges, Judith stood uncertainly outside her door. Dinner at seven, Vreni had said, and it was now five minutes before the hour. Then hearing voices downstairs, she made her way down towards them. As she reached the hallway a rather stout, grey-haired woman wearing a white apron came out of a door and stopped at the sight of her, holding out a hand. Hesitantly Judith out her own, to find it gripped tightly and shaken very firmly. 'Good evening, Fraulein Carter, I am Anni Geissler. In here, please.' She reopened the door she had just closed and murmuring her thanks Judith walked in, to stop short as she realised the formidable Herr Steiner was the only occupant. He looked up and saw her. 'Come in, Fraulein. Dinner is now ready, we merely await Verena. I'm afraid she is rarely on time. What will you have to drink?' Judith bit her lip. She did not much care for wines and spirits, a fact which had in the past aroused the amusement and sometimes scorn of her escorts. Alan, for example, liked to consider himself something of a connoisseur of wines and strongly derided what he described as her infantile tastes. 'Have you a very sweet sherry, please?' she inquired hesitantly.

Dieter Steiner did not comment, but his expression spoke volumes. Judith thought with an inner gurgle of laughter that he would have looked much the same if she had asked for a cup of distilled deadly nightshade. 'I'm afraid we only have dry,' he informed her politely. 'Then I won't bother, thank you,' she replied coolly. 'I'm afraid I have a sweet tooth, and very unsophisticated tastes where drink is concerned.' 'In which case may I offer you some orangina?' At her nod he filled a glass and handed it to her with a faint twitch of the lips. 'I see my earlier impression is confirmed, Fraulein Carter; you believe in stating your opinions and sticking to them, regardless of convention.' The dryness of his tone did not escape Judith, who accepted the glass with a faint stirring or resentment. 'If by that you mean that I refuse to drink something I dislike, simply because the refusal may give some people a poor opinion of my tastes, then you're quite right,' she responded stiffly. 'I don't believe in doing things for no better reason than that convention says I should.' 'In this instance I'm sure you are right. But I hope you're not always so antagonistic to conventions; you'll find the Swiss are a very conventional people. The permissive society has not yet reached us, thank God, and we hope it never will.' Judith's hazel eyes flashed fire as she glared across at him. 'Don't worry, Herr Steiner: I haven't come here with the intention of seducing your employees!' At that point Verena hurried in, full of breathless apologies, leaving him no opportunity to reply to her retort, but the sardonic expression on his face made her compress her lips tightly and hold herself very erect as he steered her through into the dining-room.

After the meal was over he excused himself and left them. Verena raised an eyebrow and shrugged. 'Come on, we may as well sit out on the balcony.' She led the way through a door at the end of the room which led out to the wide veranda at the back of the chalet; though open on the side facing the lake, at either end a screen gave protection from the wind and the deeply overhanging eaves of the chalet roof kept rain and snow off the polished floor. A comfortablelooking settee and several chairs were scattered around and Verena sank into one of them and grinned, 'Now you see why I am glad of your company. Every evening it's the same—if he isn't out on business, he either goes to his study and draws innumerable diagrams, or down to his workshop to play. Working, he calls it, but as far as I am concerned making models is playing. Men! They never grow up.' The idea of the impressive Herr Steiner doing anything remotely childish fascinated Judith. 'What does he make models of?' Verena wrinkled her nose. 'Oh, engines—working models, you know, nothing frivolous. You'd think that he would get enough of that during the day, wouldn't you? He can't think of anything but machinery. I've been trying for years to marry him off to various friends of mine, but with a complete lack of success; he doesn't even seem to notice they are female!' She laughed suddenly. 'That makes him sound a terrible prig! Don't pay any attention to me, I'm just venting my spleen because my poor friends all fall for him and he is quite impervious to their charms. He simply looks straight through them. I remember, when I was still a child, he used to go out with quite a few girls, but of late years he hasn't bothered. Since Father died, really. Since he took over the firm he says he has' no intention of marrying—claims he hasn't any time to spare for women!' At ten o'clock, excusing herself on the grounds of tiredness from the journey, Judith went to her room. Dieter Steiner had not put in any further appearance, so the evening had been spent entirely in chatting

to his sister; she had proved to be a friendly, open type, very different from her brother, and just a little in awe of him. Perhaps that was to be expected with a ten-year age gap—Verena was actually twentytwo, three years younger than Judith, though in appearance and manner she appeared contemporary with the English girl—but Judith privately thought that it was probably because he treated his sister with the same indifference that he treated all women. Not that Verena had said anything of the sort—she was obviously extremely fond of him—but Judith suspected it to be the case. His manner during the meal had reminded her of an adult stoically suffering the chatter of two silly schoolgirls. Verena did talk rather a lot, admittedly, but then if she had not the meal would have been eaten in silence! What an odd, cold man he seemed to be. It wasn't so much that he hadn't the time to go out with women, she decided, it was more that he had no time for women. Which was a different thing altogether, she mused as she climbed into the high bed, and wondered just how difficult that would make her life in the weeks ahead.

CHAPTER THREE JUDITH'S eyes opened next morning to a pattern of lights flickering and dancing on the ceiling. For a moment she lay in the half-land between sleeping and waking, wondering bemusedly where she^ was, then memory returned and she sprang out of the high bed and ran to the window, throwing wide the shutters to the early morning sunshine that was already dancing on her ceiling in reflection from the glittering waters lapping playfully at the edges of the chalet's lawns. These, well-trimmed and a lush green, ran right down to the lake and were screened on either side by trees and shrubs, making a secluded garden; a small pier jutted out into the water, and a boathouse at one side of the garden indicated that the two cars were not the Steiners' only means of transport. The alarm rang and she padded back across the parquet flooring and the white carpet to switch it off. It was twenty to seven; Dieter breakfasted at seven, Verena had told her, and was always at the factory before eight, although the office staff didn't start until halfpast. Perforce Judith would have to be there early too, and she had a feeling that he would not take it kindly if she delayed him. She washed and then dressed in a plain brown skirt and cream blouse, plaiting her hair and winding it neatly round her head like a coronet. Very businesslike and efficient-looking, she approved herself in the long mirror, and decided that the effect of pinning up her hair was to make her look even taller than she already was, which might make her feel a little less at a disadvantage with the lofty (in more ways than one) Herr Steiner. Carefully she repacked her cases and stood them by the door, then with a last regretful look at the charming room made her way downstairs. The long table in the dining- room was bare, but the door to the balcony stood wide open and Judith stepped out to find a table laid for two in the sunshine, and seated at it, hidden behind the closely- printed pages of the Neue Zurcher Zeitung, Herr Steiner. He

lowered the paper as she approached, grunted 'Guete morge', and with a last glance at the article he had been reading prepared reluctantly to fold it away. 'Guten Morgen,' Judith returned, feeling she had better stick to standard German until she was more familiar with the local variety. 'Please don't bother to put your paper away on my account—I usually read at breakfast myself.' Besides, she thought ruefully, if he did she would have to try and make conversation with him! She accepted his offer of the Berner Tagblait and glanced at the headlines, though the novel experience of breakfasting out of doors with a view of lake and mountains distracted her attention more than once. Within a very short while Anni bustled out of the kitchen bearing coffee and new rolls, wished them a bright good morning and went away again. Seeing Herr Steiner fold his paper away Judith did likewise, though she and Barbara were apt to prop the newspapers up against the marmalade jar and read through the meal. Obviously such informal behaviour would not be welcome here. 'No bacon and eggs, I'm afraid,' said Herr Steiner as he held out his cup for her to pour the coffee. It was not so much an apology for the lack as a dig at what he considered a barbarous English habit, she thought, and her voice was cool as she replied, 'I never eat a cooked breakfast anyway; coffee, toast and marmalade is my usual. So a continental breakfast is no hardship to me.' He made no reply and Judith buttered her roll in silence, wishing that Vreni would appear and relieve the stiffness of the atmosphere. As though in answer to her wish the Swiss girl emerged from the kitchen doorway, clad in a glamorous and expensive-looking dressing gown and stifling a yawn.

'I trust you appreciate the honour, Fraulein Carter,' said Dieter Steiner dryly. 'Vreni doesn't usually crawl out of bed until I have left the house.' 'Deliberately. You're so grumpy in the mornings I prefer to keep out of your way,' declared Verena with sisterly candour, sinking gracefully into a chair. 'But it didn't seem fair to abandon poor Judy to your untender mercies ... besides, overnight I had a brilliant idea.' 'You do surprise me,' stated her brother with uplifted brow. 'Don't be a pig, Didi,' she grinned at him. 'You may have the lion's share of the brains in the family, but the good fairies kept just a few back for me.' Judith was trying to control her mirth; that the childish pet-form of his name should still be applied to the extremely mature and imposing Dieter Steiner she found highly amusing. But she sobered abruptly as Verena went on, 'I don't know why I didn't think of it yesterday. It was so nice for me to have someone to talk to last night after you did your usual disappearing act; it would be silly to immure poor Judith in some unfriendly hotel when the obvious thing is for her to stay here and keep me company.' Better an unfriendly hotel than an unfriendly Herr Steiner! thought Judith, and said swiftly, 'No, really, Vreni, I couldn't possibly impose ...' 'But it wouldn't be an imposition,' explained Verena earnestly. 'I'm being very selfish, I assure you. I want your companionship. Anni thinks it's a good idea, too, and she is the only person who would be caused any trouble at all.' 'It would be more suitable for me to go to a hotel,' demurred Judith, casting a desperate glance at the apparently uninterested Herr Steiner, who was calmly finishing his breakfast.

'Nonsense!' snorted Verena. 'We often have people to stay for business reasons.' 'Clients, Vreni,' her brother interjected mildly. 'It isn't quite the same thing.' 'And employees!' cried Verena triumphantly. 'Pierre Larouche stayed here for a week when he was moving apartments, remember?' 'Even so, Verena, have you considered the problems? Transport, for instance; although there is a bus service past here it isn't very frequent, as you well know, and then there would probably be a long wait in Thun for the connection out to the factory.' 'Don't be awkward, Dieter!' snapped Verena. 'Of course Judith would travel with you—as she is doing this morning!' 'And on the days when I am not going to the factory— when I am away on business? Or when I am not coming straight home at night?' 'Then I could drive her—or you could send her in a company car,' returned Verena impatiently. 'Really, Dieter, you're just being obstructive. I get so bored all day with only Anni to talk to—and after dinner even she isn't there, she retires to her own apartment to be with her husband.' 'I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed you were pining away,' he replied dryly. 'In fact these last few weeks I couldn't have noticed, for the simple reason that I have hardly set eyes on you. You have been out almost every evenings And that wouldn't be very polite behaviour towards a guest, either.' 'Well, I have decided not to see so much of Rudi in future,' Verena explained uncomfortably. 'So I shan't be going out much—and even if I did go out on occasion, I'm sure Judith wouldn't mind being left

alone sometimes. After all, in a hotel she would be alone all the time, and not so comfortable.' Her brother chose to ignore the last part of her statement. 'And why have you suddenly decided to drop Rudi? No,' he contradicted, glancing at his watch and rising to his feet, 'on second thoughts tell me some other time or we'll be late.' Judith, who had been sitting in some embarrassment at being the cause of dissension between them, hastily stood also. 'I'll get my cases,' she murmured. Herr Steiner looked at her consideringly, then shook his head slightly. 'Leave them. Perhaps it would be as well if you stayed on here for the present—at least until we know how long you are likely to remain in Switzerland.' 'Why, isn't it settled?' queried Verena in surprise, but he ignored the question and picking up a bulging briefcase which had been standing at his feet strode off round the balcony towards the stairs down to the garage. Judith was too abashed by the rather forceful reminder that she was for the moment very much oil trial to do more than smile briefly at Vreni before scurrying after him.

On arrival at the factory Herr Steiner led Judith into a small room, which, like his own, led directly into Erich Hartmann's office. Here he briskly provided her with paper, a typewriter, and the German instruction book for the sewing machine, then left her. Feeling rather as though she were about to sit for an examination, Judith extracted her dictionary and technical notebook from her briefcase and settled down. Before very long she was completely immersed in the work; it was really childishly simple, because she was so familiar with the

English version that it was more a case of correcting the grammar of that than of making an original translation. By midday she was finished. She read over the pages of typing, clipped them together and went out into the next office where the secretary was typing busily. 'Could I see Herr Steiner, please?' she requested politely, and he flicked a switch and spoke into the telephone. Listening intently, Judith managed to interpret the words as, 'Miss Carter would like to see you, sir.' There was a short pause, then a brisk reply in the impatient tones of the factory owner which Judith suspected was the Swiss equivalent of 'If she must!' The secretary waved over to his employer's door and Judith knocked and walked in, outwardly calm but inwardly shaking. Herr Steiner, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, was standing at his desk leaning over a set of blueprints spread all over the surface. He looked up as she entered and barked, 'Well?' In. mute answer Judith held out the neatly-typed pages, and he straightened, looking at her incredulously. 'You can't have finished already,' he said with a faint frown. 'Yes.' Judith lifted her chin defiantly, still holding out her finished work. Silently he took it from her, motioned her into a chair, then sat down and began to leaf through while Judith waited with clammy hands. There was something particularly unnerving, she thought, about having to sit doing nothing while her work was critically inspected; rather like being stripped on a hospital bed while half a dozen doctors prodded and poked. When he reached the end he sat for a moment as though in silent contemplation, then leaned over and pressed the buzzer. When his secretary appeared at the door he looked up and said briskly, 'Take Fraulein Carter out to the general office and ask some of the girls to take her over to the canteen. Then come back here—I want you to get me a telephone call.' Fleetingly he looked across at Judith. 'I'll see you after lunch, Fraulein,'' he said dismissingly.

For a moment Judith hesitated. Surely he was not going to keep her in suspense, waiting for his verdict! But apparently he was, because he turned back to the blueprints without further ado. She paused, about to voice her protest, but Erich Hartmann unobtrusively took her elbow and pulled her out of the room. Closing the door behind them, he gave Judith a friendly smile. 'If he had decided on a definite "no" he would have said so,' he confided reassuringly. 'He's a very fair man. Obviously he requires a little more time to consider the matter. Don't you have a saying in England, "no news is good news"?' Which was all very well, thought Judith as she followed him through and was introduced to four of the typists, but there was another to contradict—don't count your chickens. Accordingly she allowed herself to be led to the canteen feeling like the condemned man led to his last meal, but strove to keep her worries to herself. She answered their interested questions on her work and her home as they queued up at the counter for what seemed to Judith an excellent choice of appetising and very reasonably-priced meals, then followed them to a table by a window with a view across to the mountains. When they had nearly finished their meal she was amazed to see Herr Steiner walk into the canteen, accompanied by a dark-haired man of about his own age, and take his place at the end of the queue, exchanging a few remarks with a couple of factory hands in front of him. Seeing her astonishment the others turned to see what she was looking at, and Ursula, a rather brassy bottle-blonde that Judith had not taken to, remarked unkindly, 'Oh, look! Netta's blushing—just because her heart-throb has walked into the room!' Nanette, the youngest of the group, blushed even more deeply but replied defiantly, 'Well, I don't care what you think, Ursula. I think he's fabulous!' 'Of course you do,' said Mathilde soothingly. 'Don't be so catty, Ursula. I can remember the day when you were all starry-eyed about

Herr Steiner, when you first came here, And why not—he's an attractive man, though don't tell my fiancé I said so,' she finished laughingly. Ursula tossed her bleached curls. 'Oh, I know you're all nutty over him,' she sniffed. 'And I admit I thought him attractive too, at first. But only until I discovered that he was completely inhuman! And Netta wouldn't be so keen, either, if she ever had to take dictation from him. He uses the most appallingly long technical words and goes berserk if you ask him how to spell them.' Maria, the eldest of the four and apparently in charge of the general office, frowned her down. 'That will do! If you paid attention to your shorthand and took the words down phonetically, you could check in the dictionary later. No man likes .being interrupted in the middle of dictation so that he loses the thread of what he was saying.' Ursula subsided into a sullen silence, and Judith took the opportunity to say, 'In all the factories I have worked in the top management had a separate dining-room. Does he always eat here, with the rest of the staff?' Maria nodded. ''In his father's day there used to be a separate canteen for the factory, another for the office staff and a dining-room with waitress service for the top people. But Herr Steiner swept all that away when he took over. He said that what was good enough for the men was good enough for him and ought to be good enough for the clerical workers too. Some people said he was wrong, that the men would dislike it as much as some of the management did, but it has worked very well.' Judith, feeling a reply was expected of her, murmured diplomatically, 'Very democratic of him.'

'It's a very democratic firm,' Mathilde assured her. 'Every employee has shares in the business, and a deputation from the Workers' Council attends every directors' meeting. Herr Steiner still has the overall say, but he listens to all objections and argues the matter out with them. Result—a happy firm, with not a single strike since he took over ten years ago.' Judith was more than a little surprised. 'He gave me the impression of being decidedly autocratic,' she said guardedly. 'That's because you're female,' crowed Ursula. 'Our Herr Steiner doesn't approve of women in business. I do believe he'd even employ all male typists, if he could get them.' She stood up and pushed her chair in at the table. 'Believe me, Fraulein Carter, we were all very surprised to see you again this morning. We fully expected him to bundle you back on the first available train!' Conscious of how very nearly this had happened and how insecure her position still was, Judith was silent, watching as Ursula undulated her way down the canteen with a provocative swing of the hips. She saw a laughing, dark- eyed Italian-looking workman reach out and Ursula give a little jump and a yelp. 'Enrico Granelli,' elucidated Maria long-sufferingly. 'You'll have to watch him, Fraulein Carter — in fact all the Italians. They're incurable bottom-pinchers. Though of course Rico isn't really Italian, he's a Swiss from Canton Ticino, but he's as bad as if not worse than the immigrants. Shall we go now?' As they made their way out, Mathilde winked at Judith. 'Don't take any notice of our Ursula. It's a case of sour grapes; she's simply furious because she has tried every way she knows—and my goodness, she knows more than most!—to attract Herr Steiner's attention, and he takes absolutely no notice. But as for the crack about him being inhuman—well, I've seen him at the theatre with a very attractive redhead, so it's more likely that he just doesn't believe in mixing business with pleasure.'

Judith grinned to herself as she sat in her office, waiting for Herr Steiner to return from the canteen and give his verdict. She could so easily imagine the deadpan expression with which he would greet Ursula's blatant attempts at attraction—much more easily, in fact, than she could imagine him with some exotic redhead. But she wiped the grin hastily off her face as she heard him enter the outer office, exchange a few words with his secretary, then rap at her door and enter. 'I have read through this, Miss Carter,' he began formally, brandishing her translation, 'but I don't consider myself competent to judge it properly. Nor, I think, is anyone here; so I have arranged for an English acquaintance in Interlaken who has one of our machines to give me her opinion on it. If you will collect your things together I'll' drop you off at the schali on my way.' 'Now?' queried Judith, startled. 'But it's only half-past one!' For a moment he eyed her coolly. 'You have some other suggestion?' 'Well,' said Judith awkwardly, 'couldn't I be having a preliminary look at the packing machinery or something?' He frowned faintly. 'I should prefer not. Industrial espionage is not something that we take lightly, and we're using a rather revolutionary process in the manufacture of the heat-sealing component so that the machine is still secret at the moment. If you are to do the translation, of course, you will be placed in a position of trust which we should not expect you to abuse, but until we know whether or not you are to stay I should prefer you not to enter the factory. Now, are you ready?' In a stiff silence Judith collected her belongings and followed him to the car. Deposited at the chalet, she found Verena sunning herself in a minute bikini and explained the situation in a deliberately

expressionless voice. Verena was inclined to make light of the matter. 'How nice! That means you have a free afternoon before you start work in earnest tomorrow. Go and put on your bathing suit—the lake is just right for swimming today.' Unfortunately Judith had not packed a swimsuit, as it had never occurred to her that she would have the opportunity for swimming in Switzerland. She murmured agreement to Verena's suggestion that she buy one soon, as bathing parties were a common occurrence at the chalet, privately wondering whether she would be there long enough to attend one, but refused the offer of a bikini on loan; though the Swiss girl was fairly near her size Judith knew that her own figure was rather more generously formed and guessed that she would feel decidedly underdressed in a suit of Vreni's choosing. She did, however, change into jeans and a suntop and join the other girl in her sunbathing, though her increasing anxiety made it difficult for her to make adequate response to Verena's light-hearted chatter. She desperately wanted to succeed, to be allowed to stay. The humiliation of being rejected on this, her first foreign assignment, would be more than she could bear; she even felt that she would have to resign from the agency and look for another job. She would not be able to face the gloating of those of her colleagues who resented her intrusion into the male world of technical translation. As her anxiety grew, so did her resentment of Dieter Steiner, the man who apparently had forward-looking views on the equality of his workmen but whose views on women were positively archaic. The resentment grew to fever proportions when he rang up to say that he would not be returning for dinner, without leaving any message to put her out of her misery one way or the other; she could scarcely eat' the meal which Anni had so beautifully prepared, and the only reason her distress was not noticed was that Verena had contracted a splitting headache. Not sorry to be relieved of the burden of

conversation, Judith urged her off to bed with a hot drink and a couple of tablets, then seated herself with a book to await the return of Dieter Steiner. At half-past eleven she flung aside the book, its contents only about one-tenth assimilated, and went through into the kitchen to make herself a pot of tea. While she was still waiting for the kettle to boil she heard the front door open, and his footsteps walking first into the sitting-room and then towards the kitchen. 'Where's my sister?' he asked, as she deliberately avoided looking at him and concentrated on pouring the water into the teapot. 'She had a headache and went to bed early,' she replied evenly. 'Would you like a cup of tea?' 'Tea?' He seemed surprised at the suggestion, but after a little consideration agreed and made his way back to the sitting-room. Judith put another cup on the tray, searched briefly for a lemon but failed to find one and decided he would have to have his tea the English way and like or lump it. She carried the tray through. He was glancing through some letters and merely murmured his thanks as she poured out and placed a cup beside him. When she had finished her tea and he had still not spoken, she could contain herself no longer. 'Have you come to a decision yet, Herr Steiner?' she blurted out. He looked up, an air of faint surprise on his face. 'Have you been anxious, Fraulein Carter? You surprise me. I thought you seemed an extremely self-sufficient and self-confident young woman. Or is it that you suspect some deficiency in your translation?'

'No,' returned Judith through gritted teeth, 'I know there is nothing wrong with my translation. What I do not know is whether you will be fair-minded enough to admit it.' He raised an ironical brow. 'Dear me, you appear to have formed an abysmally low opinion of me. Fraulein, I may be a hard and unsentimental chauvinist, you may add the terms "rude" and "unchivalrous" to my sins, and very likely find many people to agree with you; but I don't think my worst enemy would accuse me of injustice.' Judith hesitated, hoping he would clarify matters without further prompting, but when he did not do so found herself forced to ask, 'Do I take it then that I am to stay and work on the new machinery?' 'I have just told you that I try always to be fair. You were given the sewing machine booklet as a test, and as you have made an excellent translation in an incredibly short time the matter is obviously settled.' The unexpected if indirect praise threw Judith completely off balance. She felt the blood rush to her face and hurriedly poured herself another cup of tea to cover her confusion; it was tempting to bask in the unexpected air of approval, to accept his approbation with an expression of smug self-vindication. But Judith was possessed of one very troublesome and uncomfortable item; a conscience. 'I suppose you realise,'' she said in a low voice, 'that it wasn't a fair test?' 'In what way?' he asked quietly. She shrugged. 'I was too familiar with the English booklet. It was a bit like being given a foreign version of the Lord's Prayer and being told to translate that—not so much a translation, more a paraphrase of something already known.'

There was a long silence, and when she eventually looked up he was staring at her with a rather curious expression on his face. 'That seems a rather strange thing for you to point out, in the circumstances. Don't you want to stay, Fraulein Carter?' 'Yes, I want to stay,' affirmed Judith flatly. 'But not under false pretences.' Slowly he stood up. 'As a matter of fact, it had already occurred to me. But having said that if you did this properly you could stay I could hardly go back on my words.' 'Actually,' said Judith, determined to be fair, 'you didn't. You said if I did it satisfactorily you would reconsider the matter.' 'Are you sure you want to stay?' he asked amusedly, and Judith suddenly saw the funny side of it and began to laugh. After all her arguments as to why she should be allowed to stay she was now determinedly giving him every opportunity to throw her out! Feeling decidedly foolish, she began to gather the cups on the tray. 'You wouldn't think so, would you?' she grinned good- humouredly as she prepared to leave the room. 'But I do. Goodnight, Herr Steiner. I'll see you at breakfast.' And with that she closed the door behind her hurriedly, afraid to linger in case he should change his mind.

As they drove into the works the next morning Judith reflected that although he had given in and allowed her to stay, he appeared to have done so with no very good grace. The journey was made in almost complete silence; he obviously had no thought of treating her in a friendly manner and in addition he would probably prove to be hypercritical of her work—but strangely, instead of worrying her the thought merely put her on her mettle. She would show him what she

could do, she vowed! So that when he led her into his office and handed over the original German- language version of the instruction and repair manual—a hefty, forbidding tome it looked too—asking curtly if there was anything else she required, she had no hesitation in replying. 'Yes,' she told him briskly. 'First of all, I should like to take a preliminary look at the machine, and see it working, so that I have a general overall idea before I start to read this. I shall also require the blueprints straight away, so that I can refer to them as I go along. And it would obviously be helpful if I were introduced to the men in charge of the machine, the drawing office, and the man who prepared this manual, so that they know who I am when I approach them to ask questions.' 'Are you quite sure that's all?' he demanded in a sarcastic tone of voice. 'For the moment,' she returned equably. He regarded her with an expression of wry amusement. 'You know what you want, don't you?' 'If by that you mean I know my job—yes,' she replied quietly but firmly. He looked at her in silence for a moment or two, then shrugged. 'Very well. By the time I have dealt with my post everyone should be in. I'll let you know when I'm ready to show you around—if that meets with your approval, of course,' he finished sardonically. Unable to think of a fitting reply Judith murmured polite thanks and prudently withdrew to the sanctuary of her own office. Some threequarters of an hour later she followed in his wake as he led the way round the administration building; the top floor contained the offices

of the draughtsmen and other technical staff, while the first floor housed the Sales and Publicity section and the Accounts Department. The Drawing Office Manager, Johann Kessel, the Accountant, Walther Grueber, and the Sales Manager, Willi Baerlach, all seemed pleasant enough, but Judith took an immediate and apparently irrational dislike to Kurt Schneidt, the man who had been responsible for the original translation of the manual. Though perhaps not completely irrational; his manner was ingratiating, but there was an expression in the close-set eyes which betrayed to Judith that he did not look upon her presence kindly. And that, she thought as she followed the factory owner down the stairs again, clutching the blueprints of the new machine under her arm, was hardly surprising. It must be humiliating for him to have his work so publicly rejected. A short covered walkway connected the offices to the factory building. On entering this Judith's first feeling was of surprise; it was so light, so airy, so clean and quiet. She could not help expressing her astonishment and Herr Steiner nodded, 'We Swiss are lucky, in a way, that we have no coal or oil resources. We have been forced instead to develop hydro-electric power from our mountain streams, and this has meant that we've been spared much of the industrial dirt that plagues other countries. In addition most of the work in this factory is assembly; some parts are made here, but most are manufactured in our other factories at Neuchatel, Basel, Kriens and Schaffhausen.' He broke off as he caught sight of the dark-haired man who had been with him in the canteen the day before, and beckoned him over. 'Fraulein, this is Herr Larouche, my Production Manager. Please see him if you have any problems in the factory. Pierre, this is Fraulein Carter, who is to do the English translation work on the wrapping machine.' Pierre Larouche. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Judith and as she shook hands with him she realised where she had heard it before; he had been mentioned by Verena as having once stayed at the Steiners' chalet for a week. In spite of his French-sounding name he

proved to be German-speaking, and he now replied in that language, 'Gruezi, Fraulein Carter, I'm pleased to meet you. Do you want me to take over and show the Fraulein the machine, Dieter?' Herr Steiner shook his head. 'Nei; I'll come along with you, this first time.' So that he could watch her reactions first-hand, Judith suspected, and judge from them whether or not she knew what she was doing. She followed the two men the length of the factory to a screened area which contained the prototype machine. Here she was introduced to Sepp Feller and Rico Granelli, the two men in charge of it, and recognised the name and laughing dark eyes of the latter as the man who had been so handy with his hands in the canteen. Herr Steiner ordered them to start up the machine, then turned to Judith. 'This is the prototype, which is set up for packing cheese. The machine can be adapted, of course, to packing almost anything. Briefly, the blocks of cheese come along the conveyor belt here, while the rolls of wrapping material are fed from this spindle. As the blocks come along the wrapping is centred under them, these arms lift to smooth the wrapping round the block, then the top—which is actually the bottom of the pack—is crimped and heat-sealed. The heat sealing is electronic and is so quick that it doesn't affect the goods being wrapped m any way—it can even be used on blocks of ice without melting them. Then as the cheeses move along the conveyor an electronic eye senses the spaces between them, and brings in these crimp jaws which cut between and heat seal the ends in one movement. We've now made several variations, for wrapping all types of foodstuffs such as biscuits, boxed cakes and ice cream, and we're currently working on a model for wrapping loose sweets— though that is a little different, as the bag has to be made up first and the sweets introduced later in the process. But otherwise, the system is exactly the same in all cases and so one manual is sufficient for all the variations. Briefly, that's it—would you like a little more technical detail now, or later?'

'Now, please,' requested Judith, and so Herr Steiner asked Rico Granelli to take off the machine guards and cover plates. He did so in Italian, which was fluent though noticeably German-accented. She found herself wondering whether he spoke English the same way; she had always had a weakness for accented English ... She regathered her wandering thoughts and listened intently as he explained the technicalities of the machine concisely but very clearly, answering her occasional questions with surprising patience. At the end Judith thanked him. 'That was most helpful. The next step is for me to read right through the manual, asking questions as I go, so that I have a clear picture in my mind before I actually start to translate. May I have access to the machine at all times?' He nodded. 'But don't attempt to operate or investigate it on your own. Always have Feller or Granelli here with you.' They turned to go and as Judith left she could have sworn she felt a light pinch on her posterior. She wheeled round accusingly, but both the workmen appeared to be innocently engaged in replacing the machine guards. She stared at them for a moment, particularly at the grinning ItalianSwiss, then hurried after the other two men. Herr Steiner was looking back for her with a frown. 'Please stay with us, Fraulein. The men are not used to women in the factory. In fact, I begin to wonder if perhaps you shouldn't have the escort of Hartmann whenever you come into the works.' Judith prudently repressed an upsurge of irritation. 'That would be a considerable nuisance both to him and to you,' she replied coolly, forbearing to mention that she would herself find it extremely irksome, 'and furthermore it's completely unnecessary. I don't intend doing a striptease dance on my way to the machine.'

'I hardly supposed you would, but nevertheless the mere presence of a young woman may prompt some of the men to—well, to -' 'Make a pass?' she suggested with a twinkle in her eye. 'Believe it or not, Herr Steiner, it is a problem I am used to—and one that I can deal with. The British factory hand is not so very different from his continental counterparts.' 'From the Germans or Swiss, perhaps not, but I suspect you may find the Italians a little more bold. However, if you think you can cope, we'll give it a trial. If you run into difficulties please say so immediately. Don't be held back by stupid pride. It would be less bother to arrange some form of escort than to have the men unsettled.' Judith agreed meekly, though inwardly seething at this picture of herself as some industrial femme fatale with nothing better to do than make eyes at the workmen. As she settled down in earnest to the formidable task of reading .through and thoroughly understanding over a thousand pages of highly technical German, she wondered how an apparently extremely intelligent man could be so prejudiced.

CHAPTER FOUR ON the Saturday morning Judith accepted a lift with Verena into Thun. The Swiss girl was on her way to visit her Aunt Henrietta, and didn't know when she would return; her brother had, as usual, gone in to the works. Though the offices were closed there was usually some overtime being worked in the factory, and he frequently spent a good deal of his weekend there, she explained. As this would have left Judith alone in the chalet but for Anni, which obviously bothered her hostess, she decided to go into Thun, call at the bank to arrange her finances, do some shopping and then make her own way back. Verena agreed. 'A good idea. And buy yourself a swimsuit, Judy. This afternoon a few friends are calling for a swimming party.' The morning was close and sultry, the mountains hidden in a haze. Judith completed her business at the bank, then armed with a further payment on account of expenses went, rather reluctantly, shopping: it was not the sort of weather for battling through crowded stores. Eventually she found an attractive yet modest bathing suit in a slimming tiger-stripe pattern. She was always too self-conscious about her size to disport herself in the brief bikinis her friends favoured, but she felt that the vivid pattern flattered her and prevented the demure lines of the suit from looking too prim. Then she thankfully sought out an open-air restaurant and treated herself to a cool drink at a table overlooking the swan-decorated waters of the River Aare and the steamer canal. On a sudden impulse she decided she would take the lake steamer to Oberhofen and walk back to the chalet from there. Oberhofen, as she passed through quickly each morning and evening, looked a particularly attractive village and she estimated the walk would only be a couple of miles; the thought appealed to her more than that of waiting for the infrequent bus service along the shore. Accordingly she obtained her ticket and boarded the boat, stationing herself at the bows to catch the faint breeze as they cut their way through the

turquoise waters of the lake. Clouds completely covered the high mountains, but she could look at the lakeside villages and watch the brightly coloured sails of the yachts that were dipping and swaying in the breeze, which Judith suddenly realised had now grown much stronger and cooler. As the boat pulled in at the flower- decked pier at Oberhofen she was quite glad to reach the shelter of the village; the morning had been so hot she had ventured forth in a sleeveless cotton dress without carrying any jacket or cardigan with her. She paused briefly on the pier to admire the famous castle, already familiar from many a chocolate-box cover, with -its unusual mosaictiled roofs and one tower actually built out over the lake; then, after a short exploration of the village, she set out on the road towards the chalet. Before she had gone very far she felt a drop or two of rain and lengthened her stride; but before she had covered as much as a mile the heavens, seemed to open and the rain poured down. She hesitated briefly, but there was nowhere to shelter on the narrow road and so she hurried on, soon becoming drenched to the skin and thinking amusedly that she would be less uncomfortable if she were to change into the bathing suit she had just bought. Certainly she could be no wetter if she were to dive into the lake and swim the rest of the way! Determinedly she struggled on, one arm over the top of her bag trying to protect the contents and the other alternately smoothing back her soaking hair and easing out the skirt of her dress which persisted in clinging dankly to her legs. Nevertheless she prudently refused several offers of lifts from solitary males in passing cars, and was about to do so again when she realised that the car that had pulled in beside her was the large blue Citroen of Herr Steiner. He leaned across and opened the passenger door. 'Get in,' he called in a voice of resigned impatience. She hesitated, eyeing the pale blue leather seat. 'It's all right, thank you, I'll continue walking,' she said politely. 'I'm dreadfully wet—I'd make a terrible mess of your upholstery. Perhaps you'd be good

enough to take my bag for me?' So saying, she stood it on the floor of the car and would have withdrawn but for the fact that his hand shot out and grasped her wrist. 'Get in!' he insisted inexorably. Doubtfully she still hesitated, but at an impatient toot from behind realised his car was blocking the narrow road and climbed in without further argument. Immediately he set off as she wriggled around on the seat uncomfortably, the water running off her hair and dripping down her back and off the end of her nose. She mopped up as best she could with her handkerchief and then rather reluctantly accepted the considerably larger one he produced from his breast pocket. 'You should have left me to walk,' she asserted a little resentfully. 'I was quite all right, and I couldn't possible have got any wetter than I already am.' 'Perhaps not, but the sooner you get dry again the better,' he replied coolly. 'We don't want you to be ill.' Judith said nothing, wondering how much of his concern was for her personally and how much for the delay in the translation work that would be caused if she fell sick. Totally the latter, she decided as he demanded coldly, 'What on earth are you doing walking along the road anyway—and what possessed you to go out without some form of weather protection?' 'It was such a hot morning!' she protested defensively. 'How was I to know the weather would change? And I was walking because I felt like walking!' 'Mountain weather is notoriously unpredictable,' he informed her brusquely. 'So in future you would be well advised to carry a nylon mac or something of the sort with you.' For the rest of the short journey he was silent, and Judith, furious both with him because of his dictatorial manner and with the

circumstances which had decreed he should see her in such a bedraggled state when she had been at pains to give an impression of sophisticated efficiency, was content to leave it so. When they reached the chalet she fled up to her room and scowled at her disorderly appearance in the mirror. 'If I want to get wet I'll get wet!' she told her reflection fiercely. 'And Herr high-and-perishin'- mighty Steiner can mind his own business!' Suddenly realising how ridiculously she was behaving, she giggled self-consciously as she stripped off her dripping clothes, thinking ruefully that it was a wonder the heat of her anger had not dried them; she would really have to bring up the question of removal to lodgings again, though the last time she had done so Verena had pleaded with her to stay. Too much exposure to Herr Steiner's determined disapproval and she felt she would explode. The opportunity to bring up the subject came almost immediately, at lunch. Herr Steiner seemed preoccupied, as though some problem was bothering him, and only half listened to Verena's continual chatter. 'Tante Hetta is coming to visit us in a fortnight's time, Dieter,' the latter told him. 'She was complaining that you never go to see her— she says she hasn't set eyes on you for months.' He gave a muttered exclamation of impatience. 'She would have done so if she had bothered to attend a few board meetings. She's a director, just as you are, though for all we see of the pair of you at the meetings nobody would believe it.' Verena snorted derisively. 'And what good would we be at a board meeting—we know nothing of machinery, either of us, and don't want to know! I've told you before I'm perfectly willing to resign from the board so that you can co-opt someone who would be some use.'

'As a matter of fact I should like to take you up on that offer. I'd like Pierre Larouche on the board, to give me a little more support; Baerlach's on my side, but Grueber and Kessel are so ultra-cautious I sometimes wonder how they pluck up the courage to get out of bed in the mornings. Thank heavens both of them retire shortly. If it had been left in their hands the company would still only be manufacturing treadle sewing machines—or, more likely, be bankrupt.' Verena grinned. 'You can't blame them for that, it's their nature. That was the sort of man Father liked on the board; sensible, cautious, happy to keep the business quietly ticking over so that he could have time to pursue his own interests. He was an artist,' she explained to Judith. 'He spent all the time he could painting—and that was most of the time, he regarded everything else as a waste of energy— and although he was no world-shaker, he could probably have made a fair living selling local views to the tourists if he could have concentrated on it entirely. He loathed the works because they kept him away from his art, he thought engineering degrading, soul-destroying A.. Your expansionist ideas would have frightened him to death, Dieter. You take after our industrious grandfather. And in the interests of the company, not to mention my small but lucrative shareholding therein, I'll resign from the board whenever you like. I must admit if the Accountant, Sales Manager and Drawing Office Manager are directors it seems ridiculous for the Production Manager to be left out in the cold. Speaking of Pierre, by the way,' Verena added casually —rather too studiedly casually, Judith thought, her interest aroused— 'did you remember to ask him?' 'Ask him what?' murmured her brother absently. 'Ask him if he would come round this afternoon for the swimming, of course,' she reminded him sharply.

'Oh! No, it slipped my mind,' he said carelessly, and gave a faint grin at her sigh of exasperation. 'There'll be a big enough crowd here, surely. You'll never miss just one. In any case, it will probably rain again.' 'If it does we shall just have to stay indoors and talk,' retorted Verena sharply. Her lips were compressed and Judith had the impression that she was more than just a little upset. She wondered rather surprisedly whether Verena Was romantically interested in Pierre Larouche; he was good-looking, certainly, but seemed a shy and retiring type and not the sort that she would have expected to appeal to the outwardgoing Verena. But opposites often attract, and although he was quiet he certainly ran the factory efficiently and had the respect of his men—and seemingly of the exacting Dieter Steiner as well—so perhaps there was rather more to him than appeared at first glance. 'Did you buy a swimsuit, Judy?' Verena asked now with a determined cheerfulness. Judith nodded, then seized her chance. 'Verena, I've been thinking. It isn't right that you should have to include me in your social affairs. Now that things are settled I really feel I ought to look for lodgings elsewhere for the rest of my stay.' 'Ach, nei!' Verena exclaimed, and to Judith's surprise and discomfiture her eyes filled with tears. 'Don't desert me, Judy, just when I'm growing used to having you around! Dieter, tell her she must stay!' she pleaded, giving his arm a little shake to arouse him from his abstraction. Judith sat uncomfortably while he looked from her to his sister and back again. 'If Fraulein Carter really wants to go, Vreni, I can't stop her. She is a free agent. Tell me, Fraulein, how strongly do you feel about it? Are you uncomfortable here?'

Judith blushed. 'No, of course not! My room is lovely, and Verena and Anni have gone out of their way to make me feel at home!' The cool grey eyes appraised her thoughtfully. 'I note that I seem to be excluded from that remark,' he observed. 'I'm sorry if I have given you the impression that you're unwelcome, Fraulein. It was unintentional, I assure you.' 'Of—of course not,' stammered Judith, caught off her guard, 'only I thought that perhaps you find it a nuisance to have a. stranger continually underfoot, that you would prefer it if I moved out now that everything is settled. It was to be only for one night at first, you remember, and now I have been here for four days.' 'I don't find your presence a nuisance, Fraulein Carter,' he assured her calmly. 'Indeed it would be difficult to do so, as I only see you at breakfast and dinner.' He smiled faintly. 'And at least you don't chatter all through breakfast! So if you're really not unhappy here, and if Verena wants your company sufficiently to drive you to and from the works when I'm away—and by the way, Verena, I'll be in Cologne for a couple of days the week after next, so your chauffeur duties will have to start then—then I think you. should stay. And now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I'll have my coffee in my study. We're having problems with the new sweet-wrapper and I want to do some work before people start arriving.' After that, left alone again with the Swiss girl, Judith could hardly do other than promise to stay. But she did so with more than a little misgiving. He might give the impression that he was hardly aware of her presence—but she, unfortunately, was only too aware of his. For Verena's sake, though, she would try to endure it. His weather prophecy proved accurate. It was not raining hard in the afternoon, but it was very showery, and though Judith was quite prepared to swim in the rain it seemed that no one else was inclined

to do so. The guests all gathered on the chalet's wide veranda, chatting and watching the low clouds scudding over the lake. Verena obviously sensed Judith's thought of disappearing to her room and gave her no opportunity to do so, grasping her wrist firmly and introducing her to the guests as they arrived. They were mainly friends of Vreni's own age, together with their husbands, fiancés and boy-friends, and therefore Judith's attention was doubly attracted when a rather older and very striking couple arrived. They were obviously brother and sister and almost certainly twins, both very good-looking and with distinctive red hair. This, undoubtedly, was the attractive redhead that Mathilde had seen with. Herr Steiner, Judith realised as the female twin attached herself to him very firmly. She was rather small and extremely slim and dainty, with wide green eyes and thick black lashes which she fluttered up at him provocatively. The male twin made his way straight to Verena's side and was promptly introduced to Judith as Rudolf Leissinger. He was taller than his sister but not quite the same height as Verena and Judith, though his astonishingly good looks and vivacious manner made up for his lack of inches. This, Judith assumed, was the Rudi of whom Vreni had decided to see less, though his attentive demeanour made it obvious that the decision was one-sided. Once again Judith's attempt at escape was foiled by Vreni who firmly drew her into the conversation. After a while Anni wheeled out a large trolley laden with food, and another with jugs and crockery, then disappeared. Verena immediately jumped up and began dispensing refreshments, and after only a few minutes Judith, who could find very little in common with Rudi Leissinger, followed and offered her help. At first Vreni refused, but then changed her mind and said, 'Oh, yes, please, go and ask Dieter and Trudi what they would like and take it to them. It's no use expecting that one to come for her own, and she won't let Dieter out of her clutches long enough for him to do so. There's coffee, tea, or hot chocolate.'

Wishing now that she had not volunteered, Judith picked her way across to the corner where Trudi Leissinger was monopolising Herr Steiner's attention. He was listening to her conversation courteously though not with any great display of enthusiasm, she mused as she came to a halt in front of them and waited for a chance to speak. As she asked what they would like Herr Steiner rose immediately to his feet. 'Have you two met yet? Trudi, this is Fraulein Carter, who is staying with us for a while. Trudi Leissinger, Fraulein, a near neighbour of ours.' Judith murmured acknowledgment and stood torn between amusement and discomfort as the green eyes swept her from head to foot, taking in every detail of her appearance with the accuracy of an astronomical telescope. 'Goodness, another enormous female to tower over me!' she cooed sweetly, leaving Judith feeling like an overgrown carthorse. 'Gruezi, Fraulein Carter. Are you staying long?' The tone was faintly condescending, as though the result of her scrutiny was the decision that she could safely write Judith off as being no competition, yet at the same time a little sharp as though jealous of the fact that she was staying at the chalet. 'A couple of months,' Judith told her politely. 'Oh!' Fraulein Leissinger seemed quite taken aback. 'How nice for you. Quite a long holiday, in fact.' Judith waited for Herr Steiner to explain the situation, but as he stayed silent she replied, 'I'm not on holiday, Fraulein. I'm working at the factory, translating an instruction manual into English.' 'Oh, an employee!' the other girl said dismissingly, her last worries clearly over. 'I'll have coffee, black with no sugar, and nothing to eat.

I must think of my figure,' she finished with a provocative little laugh at the man by her side. Judith's momentary indignation at being treated like a servant was soon replaced by amusement. If Trudi was expecting a gallant compliment on her figure from Dieter Steiner she had picked on the wrong man; he merely corrected her quietly, 'Fraulein Carter is not an employee of mine, Trudi. She works for an English firm, and is staying here as a friend of my sister.' He smiled suddenly and with unexpected warmth at Judith. 'I'll have coffee too, please. You know how I like it.' Startled at his friendliness, Judith smiled back at him, then made her way back to the trolley. As she poured the coffee light, dawned; Herr Steiner was as impervious to Trudi's attempts at attraction as he seemed to be to those of other women, and was playing Judith off against her in an attempt to rid himself of her attentions. 'Well, he needn't think he can use me like that,' she fumed. He could just find some other way to dispose of his importunate admirer! When she took the coffee over he smiled at her again and patted the chair on his other side. 'There's a spare seat here. Why don't you bring your cup over?' His smile was a particularly attractive one, lighting his stern features and very difficult to resist, but Judith managed to do so and returned the gesture with an exaggeratedly ingratiating one of her own. 'No, thank you, Herr Steiner,' she replied in a sweetly subservient tone. 'I feel I ought to make myself useful.' His eyes glinted in mute appreciation of her dig at the other girl's attitude. 'Of course, I'm sure Verena appreciates your assistance. But do come over as soon as everyone has been served.'

Hastily Judith escaped and handed out more refreshments, but when everyone had been supplied she remained standing with her own cup next to the trolley, ready to offer refills when required. Then Verena said distressingly clearly into one of those sudden silences that can fall at any gathering, 'Go and sit down somewhere, Judy, do! You're making me feel guilty. You're supposed to be here as a guest, not a skivvy! Go and relax!' With a reluctant laugh Judith complied, even more reluctantly when she saw that the only vacant seat was the one by Herr Steiner. With an ill grace she took it, and he immediately drew her into the conversation. 'I was just explaining to Trudi that you are English. She was under the impression that you were German.' Judith grinned involuntarily. 'Thank you, Fraulein. For a translator that is the highest compliment there is—to be taken for a native speaker.' 'Oh, well, I just meant—I could tell you weren't Swiss,' Trudi elucidated hastily, anxious to erase any impression of having intended a compliment. 'Actually it was more the build—so many German girls are big strapping buxom females, aren't they? Though I must admit I thought your accent was rather Swabian.' Judith gritted her teeth against the remarks on her size, though she couldn't help wondering what the other girl would say if she referred to her as an undersized skinny little carrot-head, and concentrated on the last comment. 'Perhaps it is; I spent a year at Heidelberg and no doubt that affected my accent. If I were to stay here long enough I should probably pick up a Bernese accent instead.' Herr Steiner, who had been looking at Judith steadily, smiled and said idly, 'Undoubtedly. You already say jaa jaa with a local twang.'

'Dieter, I forgot to tell you ...' With a determined hand on his arm Trudi attracted his attention. 'Papa was asking when you were coming over to give him his chance of revenge at chess. It's simply ages since you came!' 'I've been busy,' Dieter Steiner explained resignedly, 'but I'll give him a ring as soon as I find time. It won't be for a week or two, I'm afraid.' Trudi pouted but lost no time in involving him in a discussion on mutual friends which effectively excluded Judith, who made her escape by joining Verena. As the latter was only too pleased to use her as a buffer against Rudi, this proved effective; but when all the guests eventually left, with the invitation to come again in a fortnight's time if they were free, Judith was left pondering on the thought that her chance of coming high on a popularity poll of the Leissinger twins was remote!

As soon as the visitors departed Dieter Steiner relapsed once more into being his usual preoccupied and taciturn self. Judith felt almost relieved; at least she knew where she was, whereas when he smiled in that attractive way and treated her in a friendly manner she somehow felt disturbed and uncomfortable. She resolved to avoid him as much as possible over the weeks ahead; she could not do so entirely, of course, she had to meet him at meals and travel in his car, but he had gone to his workroom every evening after dinner the past week and also on the Sunday after he and Verena had returned from church. Surely, now he had started her off on the job, she could manage to avoid him at the factory as well. She was therefore a little put out on the Monday morning to realise that she required his signature on her time- sheet for the previous week. Grimacing, she filled in her name and the contract reference and then tapped her teeth thoughtfully with the pen. The beginning

was easy: Monday—holiday; Tuesday—travelling; Wednesday ... That was the day Herr Steiner had taken her home at half-past one, though really, she mused, she had finished work just after twelve. However her hourly rate was fixed to include the meal breaks on a full day, and so she resolutely filled in eight-thirty to one-thirty, five hours. She had not wanted to finish early—she had in fact asked to stay on and do other work, so he could just darn well pay up for the hours she had been there! Quickly she filled in the remaining two days as eight-thirty to five-thirty. Nine hours seemed a very long day, but of course that included one and a half hours' lunch and two quarter-hour coffee breaks. Then, signing her name with a flourish, she marched out and presented it to Erich Hartmann, requesting him to obtain his employer's signature. Feeling rather smug at this crafty method of avoiding her bete noir, she set to work; but her complacency was shaken an hour or so later when the telephone on her desk shrilled and she heard the secretary's voice asking her to go in to Herr Steiner's office. Mentally preparing for battle, Judith went. He was seated at his desk, frowning over the time-sheet, and motioned her impatiently into a chair. 'I understand you require my signature to this, Fraulein,' he grunted. Judith raised her chin determinedly. 'That's correct. As stated in the contract—the client must sign confirmation of hours worked by the translator, and he is then charged on the basis of the hours he has agreed.' Still without looking up, he inquired, 'And I assume that you also are paid according to the hours stated?' As Judith confirmed this quietly he looked up for the first time, fixing his penetrating grey eyes on, her face. 'What time do you come in in the mornings, Fraulein?' Judith gaped at him, completely taken aback. She had been expecting to have to defend her entry of five hours for the Wednesday, and instead he was asking a seemingly stupid question about her starting

time. Who should know it better than himself! 'Why, with you, Herr Steiner,' she. murmured bewilderedly. 'At eight o'clock, or thereabouts.' 'Then why,' he glanced briefly down at the time-sheet, 'have you entered eight-thirty?' She breathed a sigh of relief. 'Oh, well, that's the correct time, isn't it? That's the time I would start if I wasn't staying with you. I only come in early so that I can take advantage of the lift and save myself a tiresome bus journey. It wouldn't be fair to charge you for that.' He disregarded the remark. 'And what do you do from eight until half-past? Stare blankly at the wall until the clock strikes time to pick up your pen?' 'Well, no, of course not,' she laughed. 'I'd be bored to death! I start work, of course, but I realise that is a matter of personal choice and ...' .Her voice faltered as with a quick nod he picked up his pen and boldly altered her figures. 'You realise you will be charged at overtime rates for that half hour, if you include it?' she asked hesitantly. 'I too have read the contract, Fraulein Carter. Now on the Wednesday you have marked your finishing time as one-thirty, I see.' Here it came. 'That's the time I left here,' she began defensively. Once again the pen came into action as he altered her entry. 'If you take time off of your own accord, we obviously would not expect to pay for it. But if I decide that you are to finish early to suit my own convenience you will enter five-thirty as though you had remained here until that time.' As Judith remained silent in astonishment at the unexpected generosity he signed the form in his bold black writing

and handed it back to her. 'Please enter the times correctly in future, Fraulein,'' he said dismissingly. Muttering an apology, Judith hurriedly left. Any feeling of gratitude at his scrupulous fairness was considerably overridden by indignation at his manner; anyone would think she had been trying to cheat him, rather than the reverse! There were times, she mused, when a little pleasant injustice would seem more agreeable than his cold judiciality. Although after that she managed to keep well out of his way in the office during the next week, she saw him at a distance several times in. the factory. Kitted out in attractive deep green nylon overalls and with her hair bundled into a matching cap, she spent a good deal of time learning how to operate the machine and investigating its internal workings. The bold-eyed Rico Granelli was usually in close attendance, and Judith was several times conscious of the cold glance of the factory owner as she laughingly parried the young man's advances. Though his manner was decidedly forward it was a relatively harmless and inoffensive forwardness, and after a brisk exchange the first morning when Judith told him in no uncertain terms to keep his hands to himself, he confined his attentions to sighs and expressive use of his big dark eyes, together with the occasional suggestive remark. The best way to deal with these, Judith felt, was to pretend that her knowledge of Italian did not stretch to such colloquial expressions. This kept them both happy. Rico was able to make his comments without being reprimanded, which left his not inconsiderable ego intact, and he was therefore good- humoured and willing to explain to Judith the technicalities of the machine. As he was obviously very proud of it he did so eagerly and most helpfully, and so Judith was happy. The fact that she could understand his Italian perfectly on these occasions never seemed to occur to him as incongruous.

She was therefore able to reassure Dieter Steiner with conviction when he inquired tentatively that weekend whether she was having trouble with him. 'I know he's a bit of a menace where women are concerned; I've had to speak to him before,' he admitted. 'But he's a very good workman who takes a great deal of pride in and trouble with the packing machine, and I'd be loath to lose him.' 'He's all right, I can handle him,' she replied complacently. 'He fancies himself as something of a Casanova, but if you treat him firmly enough he behaves. He knows I won't stand for any nonsense.' This she firmly believed to be true, and therefore it came as a double shock the next Tuesday morning when, on her hands and knees with her head under the machine to check on a detail of the workings of the conveyor belt mechanism, she felt a sharp nip on her bottom. Involuntarily she jumped, and as she did so cracked her head painfully against a piece of metal. Furiously she extricated herself, rounded on the half laughing, half apologetic workman and told him forcefully and without mincing words just what she thought of him. His eyes widened at the fluency of her tirade, then he glanced past her and a dull flush suffused his swarthy skin. 'What is going on here?' demanded a crisp voice from behind her, and Judith whirled to face an angry Dieter Steiner. 'Nothing. It's over,' she snapped. 'Nothing? I thought someone had attempted to murder you, at the least. An explanation, please.' His cold glance flicked from her to Rico Granelli, who explained stumblingly and apologetically. 'I didn't mean to hurt her, signore,' he finished humbly. 'It was just— the signorina was in such a tempting position, and -'

'Very well. Clear out of here, I'll deal with you later,' Herr Steiner promised him grimly. As the Italian-Swiss left, Judith steeled herself, expecting that she was to be 'dealt with' immediately. That he would upbraid her for her loss of temper and for making a scene was highly likely; that he would remind her that such an incident would not have occurred with a male translator, almost inevitable. She was surprised, therefore, when he merely eyed her up and down thoughtfully and rather distastefully, and then inquired coldly but curiously, 'Wherever did you learn such language, Fraulein Carter? Not at school, I trust?' Judith grinned uncertainly. 'Hardly! I picked it up from some Italians in the coffee bar where I usually have my lunch. I'm not quite sure of the meaning, but it certainly seemed to have desired chastening effect on Rico.' 'I'm not surprised,' he rejoined cuttingly. 'It's a wonder he didn't faint with shock. I should frequent another coffee bar in future, Fraulein Carter: the clientele in that one appear to derive from the gutters of Naples.' 'From ...? Oh, dear!' muttered Judith, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. 'Was it very bad?' An expression of grim amusement fleetingly crossed his face. 'I'm relieved to hear you didn't know what you were saying. I could translate it into English for you, but I don't think I could manage an accurate translation without myself blushing to use such language in front of you. Would it be sufficient to tell you that the English equivalents usually have four letters in their spelling?' As Judith gasped and the blush turned to deep crimson, he smiled faintly. 'Quite. Let that be a lesson to you, Fraulein, not to say things you don't understand. I came to see you, by the way, to tell you that my plans have been altered and I'm leaving for Cologne this afternoon. Verena will pick you up at five-thirty. Uf widerluege!'

'Goodbye,' echoed Judith mechanically, her hands clasped to her hot cheeks as she watched him stride away. Oh, trust him to be around when such a thing happened! she fumed in acute discomfort. If he had arrived only ten minutes later the incident would have been over and he none the wiser. Now she had given him even greater cause to dislike her; though he apparently had little time for women in any case, she was sure he would have even less for a woman who degraded herself by using filthy language. Because although she had not known exactly what she was saying, he must realise that she had at least been well aware that it was scarcely polite. Still, what did it matter what he thought of her? She didn't even like the man! 'Vanity, my girl, pure vanity,' she accused herself. 'You want everyone to think well of you, even if you can't stand the sight of them!' When Rico sidled back in a little later, looking very dispirited, she eyed him uncomfortably. 'I'm sorry I was so rude, Rico,' she apologised. 'I didn't realise what I was saying.' 'That's all right, signorina,' he muttered. 'Signor Steiner explained. And,' he added ruefully, 'it was nothing to what he called me just now!' 'You mean he used bad language to you?' she demanded, scandalised. 'Oh, the hypocrite! And he pretended to be so shocked at what I had said!' 'He doesn't usually,' interpolated Rico earnestly, evidently eager to defend his boss even just after having been at the wrong end of his tongue. 'In fact, I've never seen him in such a temper before. He wouldn't be jealous, by any chance?' he finished inquiringly. Judith burst into laughter. 'Jealous? You must be joking! Certainly not of me—of the machine, perhaps. Why, you made me hit it with my head, Rico!' she said severely. 'Don't you realise you might have made me damage some of its delicate workings? Now, I'm going

back underneath to finish looking at the conveyor belt mechanism. And you, my lad, can just stand well back at a distance—and keep it that way!'

CHAPTER FIVE JUDITH'S idea that she should spend the weekends away from the chalet in future were delayed, for one day at least, because Vreni pleaded with her to stay in and meet their aunt. Henrietta Steiner duly arrived on the Saturday morning, driven up sedately by an ancient chauffeur in an equally ancient Rolls-Royce; telling him to return for her no later than nine o'clock on the Sunday evening, she descended in style. She was tall and gaunt and dressed in the severe black much affected by elderly Swiss women, but a smile lit her face as she hugged Verena and Judith soon realised that she idolised both her niece and nephew, though she would have died rather than admit it. In the afternoon the two girls changed into their swim- suits and awaited the arrival of however many of the guests of the bathing party of the fortnight before decided to take advantage of the open invitation. Tante Hetta, looking uncomfortably hot in her longsleeved black dress, tutted loudly when Verena wandered out on to the lawn clad in a scanty bikini. 'Good heavens, child, have you no modesty? Surely you're not going to receive young men in that outfit?' Verena giggled. 'Don't be so stuffy, liebe Tante! Nobody thinks anything of it these days. I'm willing to bet mine won't be the only one.' She was right; first to arrive were the Leissinger twins, and if Verena's costume had raised Tante Hetta's eyebrows then Trudi Leissinger's had her eyes almost popping out of her head in disbelief. It was the merest scrap of material, joined at the sides by narrow strings, and leaving the imagination redundant. The colour was shocking pink, a colour redheads were supposed to avoid, though Judith thought cattily that there was not enough of it to clash with her hair to any noticeable degree. Verena welcomed them and Trudi's

eyes swept around the deckchairs. 'Is Dieter not here?' she questioned sharply. 'He hasn't returned from Cologne yet, but he said he'd be here this afternoon,' Verena reassured her with a twinkle in her eye. She turned her head as there was the sound of another car pulling up in front of the house, listening to Rudi's conversation with only half an ear, and broke away from him hastily as Pierre Larouche walked round to the back; she welcomed him warmly and bore him off into the chalet to change. Judith sipped at her drink and smiled thoughtfully; she was now quite sure that Verena was in love with the quiet young Production Manager. Her former suspicions had been strengthened over the last four days, when each afternoon she had walked out to the car park to find Verena's lime green tourer parked but empty; and each afternoon Verena had appeared from the direction of the factory, talking vivaciously to Pierre Larouche. Whether he felt the same way about her was doubtful. He was not the type to show his feelings openly, and in any case would probably fight shy of her for the very reason that she was his employer's sister. Judith knew at least that they had never been out together; though obviously Verena was working on that. The only other persons to take advantage of the open invitation were a young married couple, Georg and Elsa, so it was quite a small party that greeted Dieter Steiner when he finally arrived. Judith had just climbed out of the lake as he walked round the side of the chalet, kissed his aunt dutifully and fended off Verena who was about to hug him, forgetful of the fact that she was dripping wet. Trudi had ventured nowhere near the water, instead draping herself artistically on a lounger to soak up the sun, and she rose gracefully and clung to his arm as she greeted him. Judith could not suppress a smile at the picture of the decidedly under-dressed little redhead clinging closely to the tall and still formally attired man, who at that moment looked across at Judith and as though reading her mind gave a faintly conspiratorial grin. Firmly he shook off his admirer, claiming that he

was exhausted by the drive and longing to strip off and dive into the cool water. Which he did, swimming so far out that Trudi, whose prowess in the water was not good, didn't dare to follow. When he eventually left the water he attached himself firmly to Pierre, which Judith realised with amusement was a great disappointment to no less than two female members of the party. As the guests were so few in number Verena impulsively invited them all to stay for the evening, explaining that there was chicken salad for dinner and that there would be plenty for all. Georg and Elsa reluctantly admitted a prior engagement, but the others agreed, the Leissingers eagerly and Pierre with quiet pleasure, and as the sun began to disappear behind the distant mountains everyone made their way into the chalet to change. When Judith entered the sitting room she discovered that she was the last one down. Even Verena seemed to have been stirred out of her usual tardiness and was firmly ensconced on the settee with Rudi on one side and Pierre on the other, while Tante Hetta knitted determinedly in a corner. Trudi was trying her best to carry on a conversation with Dieter in spite of constant interruptions as he handed around the drinks, and Judith strolled over to collect her orangina from him and save him the trouble of bringing it to her. He looked up as she approached and pouring some deep golden liquid into a crystal sherry glass, handed it to her with a quizzical glance. Judith stared at the glass and then up at him, and was surprised to detect a decided twinkle in the grey eyes as he said, 'The sweetest sherry my wine merchant stocks. I ordered it especially for you.' As Judith stammered her thanks she was aware that Trudi, who previously had been staring past her as though she were invisible, suddenly fixed her with a cold and searching gaze. As though, thought Judith amusedly, she was wondering whether the nondescript visitor to the chalet might prove to be some competition after all. Judith could not like Trudi and moved over to join Tante Hetta, quietly relishing the fact that the other girl was jealous of the small

attention whereas Judith herself was well aware that it was simply because it offended Dieter Steiner's sensibilities to have a guest of his sipping orangina as an aperitif. After the meal they drank coffee on the balcony. Trudi manoeuvred herself next to Dieter, Verena next to Pierre, so Judith was left to sit with Rudi and Tante Hetta. Being a very charming as well as a very good-looking young man Rudi concealed his chagrin at this arrangement, conversing easily with Judith. While Hetta knitted and inserted the occasional comment, he asked questions about her life and work, and gave details of his own in return; the twins were twenty-eight, she discovered, and lived with their parents in a large house not far away. He was an executive in a firm selling stationery, and his sister did not work at all. He tried to describe to Judith the situation of their house, and hearing him, Trudi broke in. 'You can't mistake it, Fraulein—it's by far the largest on that road and painted all white. I keep telling Dieter here,' she laughed softly, 'it's high time he moved out of this poky little schali and into something more suited to his status.' 'I wouldn't call it poky, exactly,' Dieter objected mildly. 'We have two sitting-rooms, a dining-room, a study, kitchen and kitchenette, not to mention this balcony, on this floor alone; garages, cellars, store-rooms and a workroom below, and six bedrooms and two bathrooms on the floor above. Then there's Anni's flat on the top ... besides, I like it there.' 'Oh, of course, darling, the situation is superb!' cooed Trudi. 'I wasn't suggesting you should move away! But there's nothing to prevent you demolishing this and rebuilding something larger, more modern and convenient —we'd be delighted to put you both up while work was going on, wouldn't we, Rudi?'

'I happen,' retorted Dieter with some asperity, 'to like the schali too! Quite apart from the fact that it has historical interest, being one of the oldest buildings on the lakeside, I was born and brought up here. Besides,' he added with a thoughtful sidelong glance at Trudi, 'I couldn't spare the money. With the present economic climate as it is the firm absorbs all the spare cash I have. I certainly couldn't take money out, reducing its liquid assets to a dangerously low level, just to indulge a whim.' Trudi pouted. 'Of course not, darling. But you must have something besides the firm—I mean, nobody puts all their eggs in one basket, do they?' 'All the cash I have is tied up in the firm,' stated Dieter firmly, directing a quelling glance at his sister who seemed about to make a surprised protest. Judith, embarrassed by this un-English frank discussion of finances, went to replace her cup on the trolley. At the same time, as though to declare the subject closed, Dieter followed and asked her if things had gone all right in his absence. 'Yes, I've been getting on quite well,' Judith replied. 'I've almost finished the——' She broke off as Verena came up to the trolley with the rest of the cups and hissed at her brother, 'Dieter Bernard Steiner! You shameless liar! All your money tied up in the firm, indeed. What nonsense!' 'Not quite—just a slight inflection of the truth,' he grinned unashamedly. 'All the ready cash I have tied up in the firm, as I said; the rest isn't cash, it's shares and property I inherited from Father.' 'Not so much inflection as infraction,' retorted Verena. 'So there— you needn't think you have a monopoly of big words! I'll just stack the cups in the dishwasher.'

Hastily Judith offered her help and moved forward to open the door to the kitchen. Verena winked at her as they added the coffee cups to the dinner dishes and set the machine in motion. 'That crafty brother of mine—you can see how he's managed to stay a bachelor so long!' she laughed. 'Everything tied up in the firm, indeed! What he was trying to do, of course, was to give her the impression he has no money to spare for mink coats and diamonds, so that she'll start looking elsewhere for a husband. But I don't know that he'll fool Trudi as easily as that—she's not as brainless as she looks, that one. Not where men are concerned, anyway. Though she'll have to be very clever indeed to trap my wily brother into marriage.' When they went back to the verandah it was to find a slight reshuffle. Rudi was still chatting to Tante Hetta but Dieter and Pierre were standing by the balcony rail, deep in conversation, while Trudi sat near them looking bored to tears, languidly smoking a cigarette and carelessly flicking the ash on the polished wooden floor in a way that made Judith's hand itch to teach her her manners. As Tante Hetta saw Verena she called her over to settle some point in their discussion, and Dieter Steiner turned to Judith. 'Ah, there you are,' he said. 'We were discussing how far you have progressed. Are you encountering any snags?' Obediently though reluctantly Judith joined the two men and reported on her progress. After about fifteen minutes Trudi, looking near explosion point, broke into a momentary silence. 'These men and their eternal shop-talk!' she cried plaintively. 'It's too bad of you, Fraulein Carter, it really is, to encourage them. You're letting down the side of us poor neglected women. Although of course,' she added in a sweet tone which did nothing to disguise the underlying spitefulness, 'I suppose it doesn't affect you that way. As one of these frighteningly efficient and hardworking businesswomen you can join in and be sure of masculine notice you wouldn't otherwise receive. I've been wondering, Fraulein: have you never considered artificial aids to beauty? So much can be done these days, dyed hair doesn't

look unnatural any more, so there's no need for anyone to put up with mousy colouring. In fact it has come to the point where poor girls with good natural colouring never get the credit for it!' she laughed artificially. 'I'm sure with a little aid you could look quite attractive, in a statuesque sort of way, and then you wouldn't have to try so hard to gain male attention by butting in on their world.' Judith was standing stock-still, stricken to silence; it is never pleasant to be hated, even when by someone you don't much like, and she couldn't help feeling upset. Then, to her astonishment, she felt an arm drop lightly around her shoulders. 'You're wrong, Trudi, I'm sure a thought has never occurred to Judith.' It was the first time Dieter had ever spoken her christian name, and though his Swiss accent made it sound rather unfortunately like 'chewed-it' Judith didn't mind. A warm feeling spread through her at the reassuring grip of his hand on her shoulder. She had been so sure that he actively disliked her, yet apparently that was not so or he would not be defending her against Trudi. That fact more than made up for the redhead's spiteful attack. 'In fact,' he went on laughingly, 'I would think she's a man-hater. That's my impression, anyway,' he smiled down at her. Filled with warm gratitude, Judith smiled back at him. 'No, not really,' she denied. 'Ah! Not all men—just one in particular, is it? Me, that is. Because I don't think you like me particularly, do you, Judith?' His eyes were teasing, provocative, and an imp of devilment seized Judith. 'Well, my old granny always warned me never to trust tall, fair men,' she said mischievously. He raised a brow. 'Really? I always thought it was tall dark strangers that grannies warned of. And is this—er— revered lady still around?'

'Yes, indeed, still alive and kicking and ruling my father with a rod of iron,' Judith grinned up at him. 'I shall have to take the matter up with her,' he murmured. 'Slander, no less ... Has she any other pearls of wisdom to offer?' 'Dozens. For instance, she also tells me to steer clear of men with cleft chins.' Dieter rubbed his own cleft chin reflectively. 'I take it your grandfather was short, dark and smooth-jawed.' 'No, he was tall, fair, and with a cleft chin,' Judith corrected him blandly. 'And how does she expect you to take any notice of her warnings when she ignored them herself?' 'Ah, but you must remember,' said Judith with parodied earnestness, 'that she had already been married to him for very many years when she gave me the advice. Presumably it was the voice of bitter experience!' Gently disengaging herself from his grip, she moved over to join Tante Hetta, winking mischievously at Verena who was coming towards her, and who detained her with a light hand on her wrist. 'Silly little twit,' she whispered, which took Judith rather aback until she realised Verena was referring to Trudi. 'Everyone knows nothing puts a man off more than to hear one woman being bitchy to another! But as she's a guest here I suppose I'd better go and smooth her down.' Judith sat down beside Hetta and Rudi, joining in their conversation abstractedly. She could hardly conquer her astonishment at Dieter's championship of her. Though he had probably done so to annoy

Trudi, she decided at length, and once again felt a stir of anger at being so used. She banished all thought of the incident from her mind and determinedly took part in the discussion at hand, which, perhaps prompted by Trudi's remark, was on the place of women in the business world. Both Hetta and Rudi had been agreeing that women should stay at home and tend the house, and it was not long before Judith was deep in argument. At ten-thirty Tante Hetta rose and declared firmly that it was past her bedtime; Judith carried on the argument with Rudi, who she strongly suspected had no deep convictions on the subject and was merely arguing against her for the fun of it. Eventually she gave up and with a murmured excuse left him and made her way down the steps and out on to the lawns, strolling leisurely down to the water's edge. The night was calm,, bright moonlight casting weird shadows in the garden and tipping the crests of the wavelets lapping the lawns with silver. The mountains across the lake were just dense black shapes lifting their heads to a luminous black sky studded with diamond- bright stars. It was peaceful, beautiful; Judith's heart lifted with joy. Her very solitude added to the pleasure; it was as though she had found some secret world that was hers alone, and she spun round unwillingly as a noise behind her disclosed that her solitude was about to be disturbed. It was Rudi, and she greeted him with polite reluctance. 'It's a beautiful night.' 'Indeed it is.' He paused beside her, looking out over the lake, then lit himself a cigarette. 'But I didn't come to look at the night. I wanted to talk to you.' 'To me?' Judith looked at him in surprise. 'To you,' he confirmed, a smile crossing his handsome face and a twinkle enlivening the green eyes so like those of his sister. 'I wanted to give you a warning, like that granny of yours, Judy. She was quite right. Steer clear of tall, fair men with cleft chins—or at least, the one called Dieter Steiner; my sister wants him. And she is a very

determined young woman who doesn't like people to get in her way. She—er—takes steps to remove them. And come to that, being a loving brother, I like her to get what she wants. Especially when what she wants is marriage to Dieter Steiner and all his assets.' 'I don't understand what you're talking about,' said . Judith exasperatedly. 'Surely she can't be under the impression that I'm standing in her way? It has nothing to do with me, I'm just a business connection. I'm not in the least interested in Dieter Steiner as a person—nor he in me, I may add! He doesn't even like me. If she is stupid enough to attack me in his presence and force him to defend me out of chivalry, it's her own fault. And as for threatening me— don't you think you're being rather melodramatic?' 'My dear Judith, nothing was further from my mind! I wasn't threatening you, merely warning you that you could be hurt, emotionally, not physically. Dieter may be wriggling on the hook at the moment, but Trudi will land him, never fear. She's not really bad at heart, you know, but she believes in the old adage, "all's fair in love and war", and she won't care too much if you get hurt in the process. You say you're not interested in him; well, that's fine. Just keep it that way, my pet, then everyone will be happy.' He leaned forward and patted her cheek gently. 'And as for him not being interested in you—well, I'll take your word for it, though that little incident tonight set me wondering.' To give point to his words he slipped his arm round her shoulder and shook her lightly. 'Dieter Steiner isn't the sort of man to fondle a woman, like this, if he doesn't like her. So for your own sake don't give him any more encouragement.' 'Don't be so ridiculous,' she said icily, extricating herself. 'That was merely for your sister's benefit—because he is, as you so aptly put it, trying to wriggle off her hook. Though I doubt if he's ever risen to it,

myself. And what's more I think you should mind your own business!' 'Oh dear,' sighed Rudi penitently, 'now I've offended you. I didn't mean to, really; I like you, Judith. I was simply trying to prevent you from being hurt.' He sounded so sincere that Judith softened. 'Then thank you, Rudi, but I repeat that the warning isn't necessary.' She turned to go in and he followed her slowly. Shortly afterwards the Leissingers and Pierre took their leave. Verena yawned and announced her intention of going to bed, and Judith was about to follow her when Dieter Steiner detained her. 'Just a moment, Fraulein. If you have a moment to spare I should be glad of a word with you.' Back to 'Fraulein' again, thought Judith ruefully as she seated herself once more. On balance, she rather preferred 'chewed-it'! And back to the cold, stern face again, too. He had looked like a thundercloud ever since she had come back from her stroll through the gardens; she wondered whether he had thought over their earlier conversation and decided she had been impertinently over-familiar, although he had made no objection and had even encouraged her at the time. She watched as he walked restlessly up and down, and realised with some surprise that he was reluctant to speak. Eventually he paused in front of her and addressed her coldly. 'Do you think it was very kind of you to monopolise Verena's boyfriend? When you are here as her guest, at her express request, do you think it a very friendly course of action?' 'Monopolise her boy-friend?' repeated Judith in puzzlement. To her recollection she had not exchanged more than a couple of sentences

with Pierre, and to call that monopolising his attention was ridiculous. Unless ... 'Do you mean Rudi?' she inquired incredulously. 'Don't play the innocent!' he barked. 'You know very very well who I mean! Not content with such a delightful little tête-à-tête in the corner of the balcony, you have to trail him off after you into the gardens. Surely you didn't expect anyone to be fooled just because you took care not to leave together? It was perfectly obvious—and in any case, Fraulein, you were perfectly visible! You omitted to take into account the fact that it was bright moonlight and your charming little idyll was clearly silhouetted against the lake.' Leaning forward, he patted her cheek, mockingly, insultingly, in imitation of the way Rudi had done. 'Do you consider it was very fair to Vreni?' he thundered, glaring down at her. As though stung Judith sprang to her feet and confronted him, hazel eyes blazing. 'How dare you!' she exploded. 'How dare you! As though I should treat Verena like that! Rudi isn't her boy-friend any more—at least, she still goes out with him occasionally, but she isn't serious about him. If you paid a little more attention to your sister and a little less to your wretched machinery you would have noticed that she's far more interested in—well, that she's no longer interested in Rudi,' she amended hastily, suddenly, realising that Herr Steiner might not welcome the thought of his sister falling in love with one of his employees, and that Verena might not thank her for bringing the fact to his notice. 'And how dare you suggest that I should set out to steal another girl's man! Any girl's—let alone one who has been so very friendly and welcoming towards me!' Ignoring her last comment, he asked disbelievingly, 'And who is it that I should have noticed her interest in?' 'Never mind,' retorted Judith. 'If she wants you to know, no doubt she'll tell you. Or you'll notice for yourself, as I did. But I assure you

that Verena would be only too pleased if I did take Rudi off her hands! Not that I have any intention of doing so, he's not my type at all. Too shallow. If you ask me it's a darn good thing she has thrown him over, and if you had any sense you wouldn't have tried to thrust him down her throat in the first place, as I gather you have been doing.' 'Rudolf Leissinger is a very eligible young man,' he informed her cuttingly. 'His father and mine were close friends; he's of excellent family, quite wealthy, good-looking and charming—or so all the girls seem to think. Besides, it's high time Verena settled down. She has never wanted a career, so unless she's to dwindle into an old maid looking after a bachelor brother she ought to start thinking of marriage.' 'Maybe—but not necessarily to Rudi!' flashed Judith. 'One attribute you forgot to mention—he's a womaniser, and boasts openly about his conquests! Is that the sort of marriage you want for your sister? The type of man who'd leave her sitting at home looking after the children while he enjoyed himself with other women? Well, I don't think she would be very happy in such a situation!' 'If you have such a low opinion of the man,' he demanded coldly, 'why did you encourage him so openly? How do you explain your willingness to flirt with him in the gardens?' 'I didn't—we weren't—oh! Believe what you damned well like!' she exploded, stamping her foot in fury. 'Of all the blind, pigheaded men! I didn't ask him to follow me into the garden, I went there because I wanted to be alone. And do you know what passed between us there? I'll tell you! He wanted ...' She paused, suddenly saw the irony of the situation and burst into helpless laughter, collapsing back into her chair.

'I have no wish to know what transpired,' he assured her bleakly, 'and if you are going to get hysterical I warn you I shall slap your face.' 'I'm not hysterical,' she protested weakly, stifling her giggles. 'It's just so funny! And whether or not you want to hear I'm going to tell you— and you,' she raised her voice to override his protest, 'are going to give me the courtesy of a hearing! I'll tell you why it's so funny. You are angry because you thought I was flirting with Rudi, because you thought I was stealing your sister's boy-friend, while all the time the real reason Rudi followed me into the garden was because he wanted to warn me not to tread on his sister's preserves! He thought I was chasing you!' 'Nonsense!' asserted Dieter brusquely. 'Isn't it?' she replied with sweet sarcasm. 'But nevertheless true. Dear me, I never realised I was such a dangerous woman! To have two men in one evening thinking I had designs on the other! And what's more,' she added a little maliciously, standing up once more to face him, 'he also thought you were showing too much interest in me. How about that for nonsense?' Deliberately, tauntingly, she put out her hand and patted him on the cheek as he had done to her, only decidedly more sharply, then turned on her heel and swept out of the room before he had a chance to reply.

CHAPTER SIX THE commotion made by a dozen or so typists packing up to go home must sound very much the same all over the world, thought Judith as the babble from the General Office penetrated to her ears. She glanced at her watch and worked on a little longer; Herr Steiner was never ready to leave promptly at five-thirty. At twenty to six she cleared her desk, strolled out through the unusually tidy outer office— Erich Hartmann was away on a few days' holiday—and the now deserted general office to the staff car park. It had been a very hot day, but the sting had gone out of the sun now and it was pleasant to stand, leaning idly up against the blue Citroen, watching the bees buzzing busily around the rather limp-looking flowerbeds. All parched and shrivelled they looked, but at sunset the sprinklers would come on and the next morning all the flowers would be fresh and upright and gay again. It would be a pleasant evening to spend on the wide balcony of the chalet with a book; Verena was going to a party and she would have the place to herself. For a moment Judith smiled as she remembered how Verena had confided her excitement at the thought of the party; she was to spend the afternoon with her old school friend Helena, who was celebrating her birthday and engagement both at once. In the evening there would be a small dance, and one of the guests was to be the future bridegroom's cousin, Pierre Larouche ... Suddenly realising she was becoming rather tired of standing, she glanced at her watch. Six o'clock, she saw with a frown; it was unlike Herr Steiner to be so late without first warning her. She went back inside and made her way through to his office. His jacket still hung on the stand and a pile of unsigned letters lay on his desk; remembering that Pierre's grey Opel sports car had still been in the park Judith assumed that the two men were thrashing out some problem and had forgotten the time, and with a muttered 'Men!' she strolled over to the factory.

When she entered there, however, it was to find that Pierre's office too was empty though not cleared away. The packing machine section was closed, and she could see no sign of them among the workers who made up the evening shift. Uncertainly she peered again into Pierre's office as though expecting them to materialise from nowhere, and an elderly workman walked over. 'Gruezi, Fraulein. Are you looking for the Manager? He went off to the hospital with Herr Steiner and they haven't come back yet.' Judith felt her heart plummet suddenly to her shoes. 'Hospital?' she echoed unevenly. 'Didn't you know? They were inspecting that new sweet wrapper when it overbalanced. Herr Steiner put out his hand—sort of automatically, you know, to save it, though of course it's far too heavy for one man to hold up—and it smashed his wrist,' the man said with all the relish of a spectator at a dramatic accident. 'Herr Larouche rushed him off to hospital for treatment. I should think they'll be back shortly—at least the Manager will, I don't suppose they'll let the boss out. Broken it, I shouldn't wonder.' Realising that all she could do was wait for Pierre and find out what had happened, Judith thanked the man rather faintly and made her way back out to the car park. Her heart was hammering and she felt rather queasy; the trouble was; she told herself firmly, she had far too vivid an imagination and could picture the incident only too clearly— the machine tilting, the lean brown hand reaching out, bending back, the crack of the bones ... she shuddered in spite of the heat. She would feel the same, of course, whoever was involved. For what seemed hours she waited, watching the works entrance anxiously, though actually it was probably only a few minutes before the company Mercedes turned into the gate and stopped beside her. Pierre stepped out of the driver's seat while Dieter Steiner extracted

himself rather awkwardly from the passenger side, looking rather pale and with his right arm in a prominent sling. 'I'm sorry you've been kept waiting, Fraulein, I had a slight argument with a machine. No, it isn't broken,' he replied to her urgent question, 'but I've sprained it badly. It's a damned nuisance ... Pierre, could you run us home, do you think? Oh, no, your car only seats two. Perhaps if you run us home in my car, then Verena can bring you back here to pick up your own. That would be better anyway—it solves the problem of getting my car back to the schali.' As Pierre was agreeing to this Judith interrupted. 'Verena won't be at home. She's at Helena's.' Dieter gave a frown of exasperation. 'So she is. Well, you'll just have to come back in my car and leave it here, Pierre. I'll get it taken home some other way. Although come to think of it, if it has to be left here anyway there's no point in troubling you. It would be simpler for us to arrange for a taxi.' Judith listened thoughtfully while Pierre protested his willingness to act as chauffeur. At this rate, she thought, they would stand there all night arguing about it, and Dieter looked as though he was in need of some rest. 'Wouldn't it be simpler still if I drove home?' she inquired mildly. The two men looked at her in astonishment, as though she had suggested something incredible. 'Can you drive?' asked Herr Steiner. There was a moment's pregnant silence, then Judith's eyes, glinted. 'Oh, no, not at all,' she said airily. 'I just thought it would be good fun to try. Especially along that ducky little narrow winding lakeside road ...' 'Sorry I asked,' he broke in with a faint smile, 'but all the same—can you drive my car? Have you driven a Citroen CX before?'

'No,' she admitted, 'but the principle is much the same, isn't it? I'm not saying I won't crunch a gear or two. I've driven a mini, a Ford estate, a Jaguar and a jeep. And a tractor,' she added as an afterthought. The men stared at her. 'Rather an odd collection,' smiled Pierre. 'The mini is my mother's—an old banger, but it gets her into town for the shopping. The estate is my father's. The Jaguar belongs to my employer—and the jeep and tractor to the farm my father manages.' With a not too well disguised air of reluctance Dieter reached into his pocket and produced the keys. 'I suppose if you can drive a Jaguar you can handle this, but all the same we'll give it a trial first. Drive round the car park a few times.' So saying he gingerly settled himself into the passenger seat while Pierre eyed his own car rather warily as though expecting her to shoot forward and ram it. Torn between exasperation and amusement, Judith climbed into the driver's side, moved the seat forward, adjusted the driving mirror, then examined the controls. It seemed very odd to be sitting on the wrong side of the car and all the controls seemed to work backwards; for a moment she regretted her rash offer and felt a surge of panic in case she made a fool of herself, then she firmly repressed it and started up the engine. The car gave a kangaroo hop or so while she accustomed herself to the clutch, a grate or two of the unfamiliar gears, then she was driving smoothly around, stopping, reversing, and finally gliding to a halt by the office door again. It was expecting too much, of course, to hope that he would express any apology or appreciation. He merely grunted noncommittally, then got out and exchanged a further word or two with Pierre, who then headed back into the factory. He seemed surprised to find that Judith was out of the car and standing beside him. 'All right— let's go. What are you waiting for?'

Judith raised a patient brow. 'Don't you want your jacket? And what about your post?' He swore softly, then apologised, passing his left hand wearily across his eyes. 'I'm sorry, I'm not thinking properly.' He followed her back to his office, where she eyed the pile of letters thoughtfully. 'Can you write with your left hand?' 'I've never tried,' he admitted tiredly. 'Now is the time to find out.' She passed him a pen and a piece of scrap paper, then held the paper steady for him while he made a few vain attempts to write his name. 'It'll look as though a chimpanzee has signed them,' he said disgustedly. Judith looked at the irregular squiggles and laughed. 'I'm not sure that isn't an insult to a chimpanzee!' Firmly she took the pen from him, signed all the letters 'p.p. D. B. Steiner' and added her own initials, then began to fold them into the envelopes. He watched her quizzically. 'The soul of efficiency,' he murmured. It could have been construed as a compliment, though it could equally have been intended as a sneer. Judith felt her colour rise but merely said briskly, 'That's the lot. Where do we post them?' 'They're franked, so we'll have to take them to the post office in Thun itself. Can you—no, I won't ask if you can manage the town traffic,' he grinned suddenly. 'No doubt you'll tell me you drive around London all year.' She shook her head. 'I don't keep a car in London, it's quicker by tube and there's nowhere to park without paying a fortune. But I've often driven through the rush hour in Newcastle, and that's bad enough. I

daresay I shall manage Thun.' She picked up his jacket and the post and led the way out to the car. At least, having decided that she was capable of driving the car, he sat back in the passenger seat and relaxed; unlike her father, who still persisted in sitting on the edge of his seat and gripping the sides tightly while keeping up a running commentary on the lines of 'mind that cyclist— watch that dog—be careful of that lorry'. Judith accomplished the journey without undue incident, although there was a regrettable tendency to reach out her left hand for the gear lever and instead find that her elbow came into rather painful contact with the door. Luckily it was well padded or she might have found herself with her own arm in a sling, too. On reaching the chalet she went up to her room, leaving him to explain their lateness to a worried Anni. He had made no comment on the way she had managed to handle the strange car and driving conditions, but then she had herself insisted on her capability to do so and so could hardly complain that he had taken her at her word and saw no cause for congratulation. After dinner she took her book to the balcony as planned, but found that she was not to have the luxury of a solitary evening there. Unable to work because of his wrist, Dieter joined her with a book of his own; but as he merely nodded and began to read in complete silence she was not at all disturbed by him. She was surprised to realise that she felt at ease, because not so long ago his very presence would have bothered her; she decided it was because he was at a disadvantage. She could not remain in such great awe of a man when the memory of cutting his dinner up into small pieces for him like a child's, so that he could eat one-handed, was so fresh in her mind. They passed the evening in an almost companionable silence until he retired, which was quite early because Anni's husband Fritz was to help him undress and Fritz kept early hours. Judith read on for a while, wondering how long her chauffeur duties would last, and waited for Verena. In the end she gave up and was ready for bed

when the latter eventually came in, tiptoed into her room and asked after Dieter. 'Pierre told me,' she said when Judith had reassured her, 'but I didn't know if he was just saying it wasn't much so as not to worry me. We talked quite a lot,' she eyed Judith sideways, 'and danced quite a lot together, too.' 'Did he ask you to go out with him?' Judith thought the bright eyes and flushed cheeks warranted the question. 'We-ell, not exactly. But he was telling me about this play he wanted to see, so I made quite a thing about how I should like to see it too and eventually he offered to get tickets for both of us. Oh, I know it isn't the same as being asked for a date—I know I forced him into it, really, he couldn't do otherwise than offer—but I thought if we had spent one evening alone together perhaps he wouldn't be too shy to ask me of his own accord another time. Do you think I've been too pushing?' she inquired anxiously. 'If a man doesn't want to be pushed he won't be,' Judith reassured her. 'Witness your brother and our dear friend Trudi! Pierre would never make the first move without some encouragement, not when you're his employer's sister. I hope your ruse is successful.' 'So do I!' grinned Verena fervently, and said goodnight.

The next day Judith accomplished her chauffeur duties without incident once more; she was becoming accustomed to the car and the roads. As the car drew gently to a halt in the garage that evening and Herr Steiner climbed out without a word, she felt decidedly piqued that he should still not have thanked her or remarked on her good driving. As she followed him up the chalet stairs she said

provokingly, 'I haven't managed to damage anything or anyone yet, in spite of your fears.' He paused, turned round unhurriedly and surveyed her with a faint smile. 'No. I should have known better than to doubt your ability. You drive as you do everything else —efficiently.' He continued up the stairs and Judith stared after him doubtfully. She supposed she had got the compliment she had been fishing for, and yet ... what woman likes to be regarded as merely efficient? Frighteningly efficient, Trudi had called her. Though perhaps, she thought ruefully, to the ultra-efficient businessman that was the highest compliment possible! During dinner he told Verena that he had arranged to go over and play chess with Fritz Leissinger. 'I've been promising to go for ages, and now seems a suitable time, when I can't do anything constructive because of this confounded wrist.' Verena's face fell. 'You're going over there? Oh dear, I thought you would be in tonight. Rudi rang up today— it's his firm's annual dance, and I promised months ago to go with him. Last week I asked him to take someone else, but he says the notice was too short. I shall have to go, I can't leave him without a partner; but that means Judy will be left in on her own again.' 'I don't mind,' said Judith hastily as Dieter frowned. The last thing she wanted was that he should feel obliged to cancel his chess in order to keep her company. 'I rather like being alone. At home there's always such a houseful that the opportunity is precious.' 'You've never told me much about your home, Judy,' said Verena interestedly. 'Do you have many brothers and sisters?'

'Two brothers and a sister,' replied Judith briefly. 'Add to that a cousin who was orphaned and who makes her home with us, one hamster, two sheepdogs, three cats, four rabbits, five goldfish, and in spring usually several lambs running all over the place—not to mention my mother and father and grandmother—and you'll see that a little peace and quiet is highly desirable.' 'You live on a farm?' queried Dieter, looking at her with unusual interest. 'I always imagined you as a Londoner.' Judith nodded, embarrassed at thus being the focus of attention. 'My father is a farm manager,' she said, and began to stack the plates. 'I'll load these into the washer, Vreni, you go and get ready for your evening out.' Not long afterwards she heard two cars draw up at the front of the chalet and looked out of the landing window. It was the Leissinger twins, both in separate cars, and knowing Vreni was still not dressed she went down the stairs to greet them. Dieter was there, however, and Judith was in time to hear Trudi say to him, 'I've come to pick you up, darling, I heard you couldn't drive. Papa is so looking forward to his game of chess I thought I had better make sure you didn't disappoint him.' 'I had no intention of doing so,' said Dieter coolly. 'You shouldn't have bothered, Trudi. I intended walking—it's only a couple of kilometres, and it's my wrist that's damaged, not my legs.' He broke off as Judith joined them, with Verena just behind her. With an impatient eye on his watch Rudi refused the offer of a drink and whisked Verena away; Trudi accepted and sipped it slowly, eyeing Judith balefully. In a fit of perverseness Judith stayed and exchanged a word or two with Dieter. She wasn't going to make herself scarce just because Trudi Leissinger wanted her to! Eventually Trudi rose pointedly to her feet and Dieter stood too; Judith wished them goodnight and wandered out on to the balcony. Some fleeting

movement made her look back through the door to see Trudi slipping something behind a cushion. Intrigued, when they had gone she investigated; it was Trudi's purse, an expensive leather one which felt as though it contained a good deal of money. Slowly Judith replaced it and then stood staring down at the cushion perplexedly. Suddenly a grin broke over her face. Of course! Dieter having so firmly declared his preference for walking, the only way Trudi could make sure of bringing him home again was to leave something behind in the chalet! Revelling in the luxury of solitude, Judith washed her hair, then slipped a dressing-gown over her underwear and stretched out on the balcony with a book. Being long and thick her hair took a great deal of drying, but she had found that it looked smoother and glossier when allowed to dry naturally than when she used a hair-dryer, though the occasions when she had both the time and the opportunity to let it do so were rare. At about ten-thirty she moved indoors out of reach of the insects which had been attracted by the balcony lights, and debated whether she should stay downstairs and spoil Trudi's plans. It was tempting, but on balance she decided she would rather take a hot drink up to her room and finish her book. To outstay Trudi would mean that she would be left alone with Dieter Steiner, and somehow that was something she would rather avoid. Surprisedly, she examined her feelings. She had thought she had got over her initial dislike—no, that was perhaps too strong a word—awe of the man; only last evening she had felt at ease in his company for the first time. Yet somehow the thought would persist that she would feel safer if she avoided him. Not physically safer— the idea of the cool Herr Steiner chasing her around the room sent her into a spontaneous fit of the giggles. Yet that very thought, ridiculous though it was, sent a thrill down her spine and she realised to her utter amazement that she was becoming attracted to him. Oh no! Not that! she thought disgustedly. It would never do to get romantic notions about a man like that; a man who had no time even for beautiful women was

hardly likely to look at a plain, over-large female with mousecoloured hair and a down-to-earth manner. It wouldn't do at all! Admonishing herself thus firmly, she marched into the kitchen and put milk on to boil to make hot chocolate. To her annoyance just as she had done so she heard the slam of a car door and voices coming up the chalet stairs. It was too early for Verena; swiftly she closed the kitchen door, hoping that they would not see the light and that she could escape upstairs while Trudi 'discovered' her purse. The voices moved into the sitting-room and Judith quietly rejoiced, rescued the milk from the boil and poured it into her mug. But she had rejoiced too soon; the door opened and Dieter peered around. 'Ah! There you are, Judith. I was wondering where you had got to.' For Trudi's benefit, she supposed wryly, acting as though the first thing he did on entering the house was to seek her company. She gave a brief, tight smile in reply and arranged the mug and a biscuit on a small tray. Trudi had followed him to the kitchen and now draped herself against the door, sweeping Judith from head to foot with a cold green glance. 'Oh good, you're making drinks before you go to bed, Fraulein,' she commented condescendingly. 'I'll have coffee—black, no sugar.' Judith gripped the edge of the tray to control her temper —dearly would she have loved to fling its contents into the beautiful complacent face opposite—then set it down with a clatter that threatened to bounce the mug into the air. 'Certainly,' she replied between clenched teeth, wondering whether the other girl thought all employees were bought slaves. Then, sure of the way to hit back most effectively, she flashed a dazzling smile at Herr Steiner. 'And you, Dieter?' she cooed sweetly. 'Will you have coffee too?'

She felt rather than saw Trudi's start of annoyance at her familiar use of his christian name, but saw clearly the suppressed laughter in his eyes as he replied, 'Jaa, jaa, if you would be so good, Judith. You know how I like it. And bring your own drink through, don't just slip off to your room like a servant.' Not trusting herself to reply, Judith reached for the coffee grinder and percolator. When she turned round again they had gone, but before long Trudi reappeared and stood watching as she set a tray. Odd, thought Judith: it was most unlike Trudi to leave Dieter alone in order to seek out the company of someone else—usually she stuck to his side like a limpet. 'You wanted something, Fraulein?' she asked stiffly. Trudi looked startled but quickly recovered. 'No, not exactly. I did think that I might take the opportunity to have a word with you, though. I know one must make allowances for your English ways, but do you really think it quite wise to walk around in a state of undress when you are living in the property of a bachelor?' Staggered into silence, Judith stared at her, then gave a short burst of incredulous laughter. 'Wise, Fraulein? Why? What on earth do you suppose Herr Steiner is likely to do to me?' Trudi's lips thinned into a hard line and two faint spots of angry colour appeared on her cheeks.' "Wise" was perhaps not the correct expression; I should perhaps have said "modest"—if you know the meaning of the word.' Thinking indignantly of the minute scraps of material that comprised Trudi's idea of swimwear, Judith lifted her brows and considered herself earnestly from the collar of her pretty but serviceable candlewick dressing-gown to the hem which swept the tops of her mules. 'Don't you think you're being a little absurd, Fraulein Leissinger?' she drawled. 'I hardly think Herr Steiner is likely to be

driven mad with desire at the sight of my bare toes. I'm covered to a greater extent than I would ever be during the day—than I could possibly be unless I take to wearing a yashmak—so how on earth can I appear immodest?' 'Don't pretend to be naive!' snapped Trudi. 'You are as well aware as I am that it isn't what a man can see that entices him, it's what he imagines. And to wander around in a negligee is to tempt any man to wonder how little you are wearing beneath it.' 'I bow to your superior knowledge of the art,' flashed Judith, then succumbed to a fit of giggles. It was so preposterous that she could stay angry no longer; it required a fantastic stretch of the imagination to see her demure ' gown as a negligee. 'You're being quite ridiculous,' she said firmly when she had recovered her equilibrium. 'I can assure you in any case that Dieter would never pay any attention to what I was wearing. In fact he never takes the slightest notice of me at all—I would be willing to bet everything I possess that he couldn't even tell you the colour of my eyes. And furthermore I would wager that he wouldn't even notice if I walked around stark naked! The only thing that would attract his attention would be a shiny, well-oiled, precision-engineered robot with flashing electronic eyes!' Something in the quality of Trudi's silence made her turn quickly. To her dismay Herr Steiner was standing in the doorway, regarding her with fair brows raised high and an expression of grim astonishment. Blushing uncomfortably, Judith bit her lip, dropped a spoon and made herself busy picking it up and washing it with a determined thoroughness. 'Me and my big mouth!' she thought ruefully. And yet it was true, wasn't it? Hastily she thrust the tray into Trudi's hands. 'Perhaps you would take that through. I think I'll go straight to my room after all, as I'm not dressed for receiving visitors.'

Dieter held open the door and Trudi, after a moment's hesitation, decided that she would be happy to leave Judith to her fate. As she left Judith busied herself with her own tray, her mouth rather dry, hoping that he would decide to ignore her impertinence and go away. She had not intended to be rude about him; it had just been an attempt to score off Trudi, because she could hardly set eyes on the girl without itching to slap her arrogant face. But though she delayed as long as she could she was still aware of the penetrating grey eyes boring between her shoulderblades, and turned eventually to find him leaning against the doorpost with folded arms. With eyes downcast she attempted to pass him. 'You have a very odd opinion of me, Fraulein Carter,' he said smoothly as he stepped forward to block her way. Judith studied her toes. 'I'm sorry, Herr Steiner,' she said stiffly. 'I didn't realise you were there. I shouldn't have said what I did.' 'They say eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves —though I was hardly eavesdropping, Fraulein.' He gave a sudden short and rather mirthless laugh. 'Fraulein Carter! You're well named, indeed!' Judith glanced up at him in bewilderment. His face wore an expression of dry amusement, and she frowned. 'I don't understand.' 'A play on words. Your surname, Carter, is pronounced the same as our word Kather.' She blinked. 'I still don't see how you can consider a name that sounds like "Miss Tomcat" appropriate!' 'Ah, have I caught the linguist out at last? Kather doesn't only mean a tomcat; it's also slang for a hangover, for "the morning after the night before". And you, my child, have a nasty habit of making one see oneself rather too clearly, like a pair of bleary eyes in the shaving

mirror. And talking of eyes—you would have lost your bet just now. They're a sort of warm sherry colour, with flecks of green. Hazel, I think you call it. What did you say you were prepared to bet?' 'You've just had the opportunity to check,' she pointed out a little breathlessly, lowering her eyes from his. 'So it's no deal. And now if you'll excuse me I'd like to go to my room before my chocolate is completely cold.' She bustled past as he moved aside and made her way towards the stairs, but was halted a little way up as he called softly after her, 'I wasn't cheating, you know. I had noticed before—the green is particularly prominent when you are annoyed, as I have had plenty of opportunity of seeing.' He chuckled suddenly, a sound of genuine amusement. 'As for the other wager you were prepared to make —I suggest you put it to the test some time!' As she remembered her hasty words—that he would never even notice if she walked around stark naked— Judith felt the hot colour rise up her face and fled precipitately to the sanctuary of her room.

CHAPTER SEVEN RELUCTANTLY, Judith stopped chewing the end of her pencil, stood up and gathered together her papers. It was no use; no matter how she tried she just could not make sense of the pages dealing with the electronic eye. She had had similar problems with the electronic heatsealing equipment, but had resolved them by consulting the men who manufactured it; the electronic eye, however, was made in the Steiner factory at Neuchatel. She had read over the original German several times; read Kurt Schneidt's English translation in even deeper perplexity; then, in desperation, tried the French and Italian versions. Rico Granelli could not help; he didn't understand exactly how it worked—he only knew that it did. Neither Herr Steiner nor Pierre Larouch were available; Pierre was off with a touch of summer 'flu and Dieter away on a business trip to Paris in the chauffeur-driven Mercedes. Erich Hartmann, with an emphatic shake of the head, had denied any knowledge of things mechanical. There was nothing else for it but to go and ask Kurt Schneidt to explain it to her, and this was the reason for her reluctance. Though he had never been anything other than scrupulously polite she could feel his resentment of her, and it made her uncomfortable in his presence. She eventually traced him in the office of Willi Baerlach, the Sales Manager, and explained her errand. Schneidt's brows rose superciliously. 'Dear me! You don't understand it, you say? What an admission, Fraulein! And I thought you were such a linguistic genius! After all, when a man has worked for a firm for fifteen years and is then superseded by a chit of a girl he hardly expects her to come running to him for advice.' 'Hardly superseded, Herr Schneidt,' objected Judith, keeping a firm grip on her temper. 'I've merely been called in on one particular job, and I'm sure that it wasn't meant to be a criticism of your abilities. After all, the first thing any translator is taught—in my country at any rate—is that translating into a foreign language is full of pitfalls for

the unwary. I was told that the bulk of my work should always be with the foreign tongue as the source language and English as the target language. In any case, the problem isn't so much one of language as of technical details.' 'I'm a linguist, not an engineer,' came the surly reply. 'Presumably you understood it when you made your translations. Or perhaps you didn't, and that's why no one can make head or tail of them!' she retorted. 'Very well, Herr Schneidt, it doesn't matter! I'll wait until Herr Steiner is back to explain it to me.' At that she would have left him, but in response to a muttered expostulation from Herr Baerlach Kurt Schneidt reached out and took the manual from her hand. 'All right,' he muttered grumpily, 'let me see. What's the problem?' Stiffly Judith explained, and was surprised to receive a clear and concise explanation. Privately wondering why he hadn't put it that way in the first place, she thanked him and turned to go. 'I'll try not to bother you again,' she said politely. 'No bother,' he replied easily. The words could have been construed as an apology for his unwillingness to help, but something in his tone made Judith suspect that this was not the case. Her suspicion was confirmed as he went on with a sly grin, 'It wouldn't be sensible for me to refuse to help the boss's woman.' Judith stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, waving to silence Herr Baerlach's swift protest. 'What exactly do you mean by that?' 'What I say. Oh, come on, don't look so surprised— everybody knows it. It's obvious, isn't it—why else would you be staying so conveniently at his house? I'll bet no male translator would have been asked to stay there. No point in it!' he laughed insinuatingly.

'No point at all,' agreed Judith icily. 'A male could have stayed in the hostel. As that was out of the question, Herr Steiner took me to stay at his house under the chaperonage of his sister.' 'Verena? Some chaperone she would be,' he sniggered. 'There's plenty of talk about her too—always hanging around the factory making sheep's eyes at -Larouche.' Judith's control snapped. 'You can think what you like about me, but keep your filthy tongue off Verena!' she flared. 'I don't believe anybody is talking about her but you! And as for the other insinuations, I should have thought after—what did you say? Fifteen years?—you would know your own employer better than to make such allegations against him. I've heard no one else speak of him but as a very moral man, and he has certainly given me no reason to think them wrong. He's completely unaware of my existence, other than as someone who's doing a job of work for him.' 'No kidding!' he sneered. 'I don't believe any man could be as abstemious as he appears to be. He must be having some fun quietly on the side. If you say it isn't with you I'll believe you, I suppose. Perhaps his taste is for something more dainty. But don't try to tell me he's a paragon of virtue!' 'I can't see that your employer's personal life is any concern of yours. But if you're so interested, I suggest you ask him—and I wish you joy of the answer you'll probably receive,' she snapped. The sneer dropped from his face and he looked suddenly worried. 'Here, you wouldn't be so sneaky as to tell him what I said, would you?' 'You should have thought about that before you said it, and kept your malicious tongue still,' Judith replied coldly, and slammed the door shut on his venomous expression.

Driving home that night (to her surprise, Dieter had given her permission to use the Citroen while he was away) Judith wondered at her loss of temper. To have treated Kurt Schneidt's ridiculous insinuations as a huge joke would have been more in line with her usual attitude— and probably more effective too. But there was something about the man, an air, not exactly furtive, but of suppressed envy and malice, that rubbed her on the raw. She resolved that no matter what difficulty arose she would in no circumstances consult him again. Shortly after dinner that night, the company Mercedes drew up at the chalet and Dieter alighted. Judith stood on the balcony and watched as. Verena flew down the stairs and hugged him, firmly suppressing a wistful longing to do likewise; then the chauffeur-driven car pulled away and the brother and sister turned up the stairs, Dieter with -his case in his good hand—he had discarded the sling, but his wrist was still heavily bandaged—and Verena carrying his briefcase. 'I didn't think you'd be back so soon,' Verena was saying happily as they reached the balcony. Dieter smiled briefly at Judith and nodded acknowledgement of her murmured greeting. 'Nor did I,' he explained to his sister. 'We got through rather more quickly than I anticipated, and as I had already promised Karl he could return today—he asked for the day off for his silver wedding anniversary tomorrow—we burned the midnight oil last night so that I could be finished ready to come back with him. Otherwise I should have had to return by rail, which is awkward with a gammy wrist and luggage to handle.' He stopped to delve into his briefcase and brought out two small but attractively-wrapped packages, one of which he handed to Verena. The other, with a slight smile, he held out to an astonished Judith. 'A present from Paris,' he said as he pressed it into her reluctant hand.

'But—but you shouldn't have done that,' she protested in high embarrassment—an embarrassment made the more acute by the recollection of her recent assertion that he was completely unaware of her as a person. She would have pushed the package back at him, but the expression in his eyes gave her pause. 'Why not?' he demanded lazily. 'I could hardly bring something for Verena and ignore you. Besides,' he added laughingly, 'I had an ulterior motive. I have a favour to ask of you.' 'A favour?' she queried uncertainly. 'As I said, the chauffeur is having the day off tomorrow. I should like to visit the Neuchatel and Kriens factories, but the train connections are terrible; I thought perhaps I could persuade you to drive me—you could have a look around the works while I'm busy. The electronic eye mechanism is made and assembled in Neuchatel, for example.' 'I've just finished that section,' Judith told him, 'but in any case of course I'll drive you tomorrow if that's what you want. It'll make a welcome change from sitting on my rear pounding a typewriter,' she added with a grin. 'Good. We'll start off at our usual time; it should only take about an hour and a half to Neuchatel. Now I think I'll unpack and have a shower—I have eaten, Vreni, but some coffee would be welcome.' So saying he went out of the room, and Judith was left holding the parcel. Verena had already opened hers, to disclose a generouslysized bottle of perfume, and Judith looked at her shyly. 'I don't feel as though I should accept it,' she said uncertainly. 'Why ever not? I should think Dieter will be annoyed —and upset—if you don't. Come on, open up and let me see what he bought for you.

Mine's Muguet des Bois—a bit young for me, but then a brother never thinks of his younger sister as a woman, does he? What's yours? Nuit d'Amour?—my word!' she laughed teasingly. 'I wonder what made him pick on that? Don't tell me my upright brother is trying to seduce you!' 'Hardly!' said Judith drily, but with heightened colour; after the argument with Kurt Schneidt Vreni's comment did not sound so funny as it might have done. 'He probably took the first thing the salesgirl offered. Mmm—it's nice though; just the type I like. Oh dear—I never got around to thanking him.' 'He won't expect any thanks,' Verena said comfortably. 'Besides, as he said, it's a bribe!' Privately Judith thought that a bottle of French perfume was a very unnecessary bribe. For the hours she spent with him the next day, he would have to pay the agency; and presumably at far higher than a chauffeur's rates. It was difficult to understand, and after a while she stopped trying. The thought of spending the day in his company induced a pleasurable anticipation mixed with a certain amount of apprehension; she had been trying so hard recently to avoid him, and her involuntary excitement at the thought of being with him warred with the sensible reflection that she would have to be on her guard not to show how much she was attracted during a lengthy journey in the intimacy of the car. The next morning, however, she realised ruefully that she need not have worried. Waving a handful of papers, Dieter explained brusquely that he had work to do and climbed into the back of the car, spreading the documents over the seat beside him. 'Which way do I go?' she inquired in a voice carefully devoid of expression. 'Sorry—take the motorway to Bern and I'll direct you to Neuchatel from there.' He then proceeded to immerse himself in his work, not

speaking again until further directions were necessary, and they turned off the motorway in the wide Aare valley and headed for the thickly wooded rolling hills of the Jura. The Steiner factory proved actually to be at St Blaise, a little way out of the town, and right on the shores of the pretty lake of Neuchatel. Judith could see by the place-names that they had crossed over into the French-speaking part of Switzerland, and was therefore not surprised when the receptionist greeted Herr Steiner in that language and ushered them immediately into the office of the factory manager, one Monsieur Dieudon. He was small, balding, portly, and positively, bounced with vitality; everyone's idea of a caricature of a Frenchman, Judith was amused to note, even down to the small moustache, and yet he was of the same nationality as Dieter Steiner and Enrico Granelli. How very confusing it must be to be Swiss! A few seconds later she thought it even odder. To her amazement, Dieter replied to Monsieur Dieudon's voluble French greeting in impeccable standard German. Monsieur Dieudon responded once more in French, then Dieter again in German, explaining Judith's presence. 'Enchante, mademoiselle,' beamed Monsieur Dieudon, bowing over her hand. 'I hope you are enjoying your visit to our country?' 'Oui—ja -' Judith glanced desperately from one man to the other— 'which language do I use, for heaven's sake?' After a moment's startled silence the two men burst into laughter. 'Ah, our little system surprises you, mademoiselle?' inquired Monsieur Dieudon in fluent, though accented, English. 'It is quite simple—me, I do not speak well the German, though I understand it. And Monsieur Steiner, he is the reverse—he understands my language, but not to speak well, n'est-ce pas? So we have this little arrangement, we both speak our own tongue and we are both happy. And you, mademoiselle, may speak either, or both, or even English if

you prefer. We both have to speak that quite well or we would not be able to do business in your country!' 'I'd hate to complicate matters further!' laughed Judith, tickled pink at such a muddle. 'I'll speak French, monsieur. But how on earth the Swiss manage to govern themselves with such language problems beats me!' Monsieur Dieudon spread his hands eloquently. 'But where is the problem? We manage very well. A little tolerance is necessary, that is all. However, I'm glad that you speak French so well; it means I can hand you over to my assistant, who will show you round while le patron and myself get down to our business. A good boy, Maurice, but his English could be better.' In the company of Maurice, a rather forward young man who seemed to think engineering was something that no woman should be interested in, Judith went around the factory. Like its Thun counterpart it was surprisingly clean and quiet, and Judith was particularly interested in the electronic eye section. To Maurice's evident surprise she asked a good many very searching questions, and came away with the determination to rephrase a little of the work she had done the day before. There was no doubt that translation was far easier if the subject matter was properly understood. At twelve o'clock Maurice took her back to the Manager's office, and all four repaired to the works canteen for lunch. Maurice persisted in flirting with Judith, to her acute embarrassment, because Dieter's rather dour expression showed that although he did not speak French fluently he understood very well what was going on and did not approve. Luckily Maurice soon realised it also and hastily dropped his teasing. Straight after lunch they said their goodbyes, effusive ones from Monsieur Dieudon and Maurice to Judith, and set off for Kriens, Dieter this time joining her in the front of the car. 'I'm afraid

my staff are not used to working with women,' he said ironically. 'They find it hard to take you seriously.' 'So I noticed,' rejoined Judith. 'They are not alone in that attitude, of course.' She felt Dieter glance at her with a half-smile. 'Oh, I do now,' he assured her smoothly. 'In the face of such efficiency how could I be other than convinced?' 'Just as well,' she snapped. 'It's something you—and other men like you—are going to have to get used to increasingly from now on. Women who have any brains or talents are going to demand to be allowed to use them in future.' 'In your country, perhaps. The Swiss woman is not so forceful, not even now she has the vote.' 'No,' agreed Judith with a smile, 'she just rules her man anyway. Take Anni, for example—a thoroughly domesticated woman, yet she has her Fritz firmly under her floury thumb.' 'How like a woman to have the last word!' 'How like a man to slide out of an argument with a change of subject!' Dieter raised a brow. 'Now that,' he objected, 'I should have said was more usually a feminine trick.' Judith opened her mouth to retort, thought better of it, and closed her lips firmly. After a short silence she inquired stiffly, 'Which way at this junction?'

'Left—back towards Bern, then take the signs for Luzern. I'm still waiting for the continuation of our argument— or have you resorted to the other feminine trick of sulking?' 'It isn't policy to argue with a client, Herr Steiner,' said Judith primly. His reply was short and not very polite. 'In the office,' he added, 'I'm a client. Out of it you would oblige me by forgetting the fact. And while I'm on the subject, Judith, don't you think it's time you stopped being so formal when we're not at work? You know my christian name—why not use it?' Coming on top of his coldness—or at least indifference— on the journey to Neuchatel, Judith found this friendly exhortation rather bewildering. 'I didn't like to,' she explained shyly. 'It seemed impertinent, somehow. If you want me to do so I'll try—but I'll probably forget sometimes; I've become so used to calling you Herr Steiner now. And another problem is, if I do remember to call you Dieter outside office hours, I -might forget to be formal during them.' 'It would hardly matter if you did,' he grunted. 'You're not an employee of mine. And as for not liking to call me Dieter—you've already done so, several times.' 'I have?' she exclaimed, startled. 'I'm sorry—I didn't realise. I expect it's with hearing Vreni speak your name so often.' He smiled sardonically. 'Are you sure that was the reason? I rather thought it was to annoy Trudi Leissinger.' 'Oh. Those times,' she said, colouring a little. 'Well, yes, it was, as a matter of fact. Catty of me, I know. Trudi doesn't bring out the best in me, I'm afraid.'

'Nor in most other women, I've noticed,' he replied acidly. Wondering whether that was meant as an accusation of jealousy of Trudi's undoubted beauty, Judith was glad that the heavy traffic as they drew near the capital city claimed her attention and ended the conversation. After a while they left the city suburbs and headed over the rich, undulating farmland of the Emmental towards Kriens. This was a suburb of the popular resort of Lucerne, and Dieter suggested that as the Kriens factory didn't produce any part of the wrapping machine Judith might like to spend the afternoon looking around the town. She accepted delightedly and enjoyed her sightseeing, necessarily brief though it was. She liked especially the northern half of the town which was old and rambling, in comparison to the section south of the river and lake which seemed to consist of wide modern streets and expensive shops; the old town was more to her taste, winding as it did in narrow lanes up the hillside to the ancient town walls, from whence could be seen a magnificent view of rooftops and river, lake and mountains, dominated of course by the cloud-capped Mount Pilatus rising sheer from the southern suburbs beside the factory. Promptly just after five o'clock she made- her way back to Kriens. When she reached the factory there was no sign of Dieter; rather than go inside and look for him she strolled over to the factory fence, which abutted a farmer's fields, and leaned on it inspecting the cows with an interested and knowledgeable eye. She thought them very attractive, with their creamy coffee-coloured coats and large dark long-lashed eyes; evidently they were used to receiving tit-bits from the workmen, because almost immediately three of them crossed over to her and looked expectant. 'I'm sorry, I haven't anything for you,' she laughed, reaching over the fence to stroke their silky noses. 'You're beautiful,' she crooned to one gentle-eyed animal, 'just beautiful. Far nicer than the splodgy black and white Friesians we have at home!'

She jumped suddenly and coloured with embarrassment as Dieter appeared silently apparently from nowhere and leaned on the fence beside her. 'I was just talking to the cows,' she explained lamely, wondering if he would think her a case for the psychiatrist's couch. He nodded, apparently unperturbed by her eccentricity. 'I keep forgetting you're a country girl. You always seem so much a Londoner, so smart and sophisticated. I can't imagine you cleaning out a cow-byre.' 'It isn't exactly my favourite job,' she admitted dryly, 'but I've done it often enough. Are you ready to leave now?' Nodding, he straightened up and strolled towards the car. 'Do you want to go back the way we came, or would you like to drive the more scenic way, over the Brunig Pass and along Lakes Brienz and Thun?' Judith looked at him doubtfully. 'That sounds pleasant —but I've never driven through mountains before. I don't know if I -' 'You'd have no trouble,' he interrupted reassuringly. 'It's quite an easy pass, an excellent road and only the very summit rather winding and steep. Provided you won't close your eyes in horror at the sheer drop on one side of the road as we descend to Brienz, there should be no problem. And somehow I don't think you would do that. I told Anni we probably wouldn't be back in time for dinner, and there's a particularly good restaurant in Sarnen, beside the lake. They specialise in fresh trout.' As Sarnen was a bare half-hour's drive, they pulled in first at a cafe on the shores of Lake Lucerne, below the shadow of Pilatus, and had a leisurely drink. 'It's very useful, having a teetotal driver,' grinned Dieter as he ordered a Coke for Judith and a Schnapps for himself. She listened attentively as he spoke of his afternoon's dealings, then

in her turn outlined her findings of the morning. When they eventually left the cafe Judith felt she had never known him to be so approachable. The restaurant at Sarnen, a small town at the end of the Sarnersee, was not large but had an indefinable air of good, unpretentious cooking. The menu was handwritten in immaculate copper-plate on thick white card, the tablecloths were linen and lace and the cutlery silver. Always ready to try a local speciality, Judith joined Dieter in opting for the blue trout after her soup. To her amazement and horror they were led to a large fish-tank and invited to choose their own fish. 'Oh, no, I couldn't!' She stepped back, aghast, and almost overbalanced as she stumbled against Dieter's foot. He steadied her and then looked down in surprise. 'Why ever not? It's the usual practice; this way you can be sure the fish is fresh, and choose one just the size you want.' 'I just couldn't,' she reiterated earnestly. 'I simply can't look one 6f those poor fish in the eye, and doom it to death by saying "I'm going to eat you". I'd feel like an executioner ! No, I'll change my mind and have the chicken instead,' she told the perplexed waiter. 'The chicken had to be killed too, you know,' Dieter pointed out. 'I know,' laughed Judith shamefacedly, 'but I haven't actually met it. I haven't picked one out and condemned it to die; it's not so personal.' The grey eyes glinted with laughter. 'Morally, by being prepared to eat it, you are just as responsible for the death of the chicken as if you had picked it out from the hen- run.'

'I refuse to be drawn into an ethical argument,' said Judith firmly. 'You'll just talk rings round me. I can't explain how I feel—I only know if I condemned one of those poor fish I wouldn't be able to eat it. I'd feel a murderer.' As he gave a hearty guffaw of laughter she went on determinedly, 'I know I'm being illogical. To carry the thing to its logical conclusion I would have to be a vegetarian. And even that isn't ideal—who am I to deprive a poor vegetable, happily stretching out its leaves to the sun and rain, of life? But if I don't eat anything at all I'd starve, therefore I'm quite prepared to eat anything with which I'm not personally acquainted. I draw the line at eating a friend.' 'Then perhaps you'd better go back to the table while I appoint the execution of my fish,' he said ironically. 'I hope it won't offend your sensibilities to watch me eat it.' 'Probably—but I'd be too polite to say so,' she grinned, and left him to his macabre task. When he rejoined her at the table he looked at her curiously. 'How on earth did you survive childhood on a farm, feeling as you do?' 'It wasn't easy,' she admitted ruefully. 'I wept floods every market day. And many's the time I've had a meal of jam and bread sooner than join the others in their chicken, turkey, duck or lamb. Dad despaired over me—but I think Mum understood. She eventually came to an arrangement with a neighbour whereby we swapped our birds for theirs when one was wanted for the table. I know there isn't really any moral difference between eating one of our own or sending it to be eaten by a neighbour, but it felt different. I knew all our hens by name, you see, and I simply couldn't bring myself to sit down and eat Clarissa or Betty! Go ahead and laugh—I know it's silly, but feelings are frequently illogical.'

'I'm sorry, but I can't help finding it funny. You give such a vivid impression of common sense and efficiency that I didn't expect to discover a rich vein of feminine weakness. And so you decided to leave the cruel countryside, and head for the big city?' 'Not entirely for that reason. There simply wasn't much scope for using languages locally, except perhaps teaching at the local comprehensive school, but the idea of cramming German verb declensions down the unwilling throats of farmers' lads- and lasses more interested in the fatstock prices was not my idea of fun.' 'But I suppose you'll go back one day, and marry the boy next door, as country girls always seem to do?' He asked the question with an air of indifference that somehow gave the impression of being a little forced, so that Judith's pulses raced at the thought that he might have a personal interest in her answer. 'I'd better not!' she disclaimed lightly. 'He'd be in trouble with the law— he's already married, to my sister! And there are no other boys ready to carry on in their father's footsteps in our neighbourhood. A tragedy for the district—but as far as I'm concerned no doubt it's just as well, I'd have made a rotten farmer's wife. The stock would never go to market, it would just die of old age—which would hardly be profitable.' 'Disastrous,' he agreed with a twinkle. 'What do you plan to do, then? Will you marry and settle down in London, or are you determined on a career?' 'I'm not planning on either,' retorted Judith irritably. 'I don't plan my life. I just take it' as it comes.' 'You must plan to some extent. How, for example, did you decide on a career in technical translation? It's hardly the sort of thing you just chance upon.'

'But I did!' she protested. 'I took a degree in modern languages simply because it was the subject I was best at. If I had any thoughts of a career I suppose I vaguely expected to teach—not locally, but perhaps in Newcastle, our nearest large town, where I could go home at weekends. My tutor at university happened to notice my mechanical bent—I'd always had it, even as a child I loved to take things apart and put them together again—and suggested I might like to work for a friend of his. The friend was Mr Crighton-Jones. So such matters don't necessarily have to be planned—for example, you're working in a firm started by your grandfather. Where's the planning in that?' 'By my great-great-grandfather,' he corrected her with a rather grim smile. 'But despite that I had a free choice. My, father hated the firm, and always swore I should never be forced into it. From quite an early age I was determined to take over and pull the business out of the mess he was letting it get into, but when it came to the point I had quite a task convincing him that it was what I really wanted to do in life. Do you plan, then—no, I forgot. You don't plan. Should I say, would you be happy to stay in your present work?' 'I don't really know,' she replied doubtfully. 'I suppose so. Though I should like to try other forms of translation. What I should really like to do,' she added dreamily, 'is translate books. Novels. But we don't get anything of that nature at our agency; we've built up a reputation for engineering translations and somehow nobody ever thinks of sending us anything else. I'd like to try it, though. No specialised knowledge is necessary for that type of work; as long as you have a thorough knowledge of the source language, an appreciation of the author's style, plus the ability to express yourself properly in your own language —a feeling—a sense ...' She floundered, thinking ruefully that she was not making too good a job of expressing herself in his. ' "A sense of words"?' he suggested with a half-smile.

'Yes, something like that,' she agreed dubiously. 'It's not quite what I was trying to say. It sounds like a quotation?' she finished inquiringly. 'So it is, though not in that sense, I must admit. I came across it the other day and thought it apt. The Book of Judith, Chapter 11, verse 19: "There is not such another woman upon earth in look, in beauty, and in sense of words".' Judith stared at him, hardly knowing how to take the remark. 'The name is the same, admittedly, but I don't see how else it's apt... and I've never even heard of the Book of Judith!' Dieter looked back at her with a hint of a smile in his eyes. 'Possibly not; I believe the English Church considers it apocryphal. You should read it some time—there's a bible in my study if you would like to borrow it—though I must admit in general I can't admire the lady. She saved the people of her town when it was besieged, but by a means that I can only consider underhand; she decked herself up in all her finery, posing as a refugee, bemused the Assyrian general with her beauty and got him drunk, then cut off his head.' 'Charming! And I thought it was a compliment when you said you found the quotation apt!' 'So it was. The quotation doesn't mention her blood- thirstiness—the poor fellow didn't know about that until it was too late—just her beauty and sense.' 'Oh.' Judith considered for a moment, then said, 'Well, I admit the name is the same and I'm glad you consider the bit about sense of words to be apt, but frankly I can't see any enemy general being swept off his feet by my beauty!' 'Fishing for another compliment?' he inquired teasingly.

'Certainly not!' she repudiated heatedly. 'Merely stating a fact that is obvious every time I look in a mirror. Nobody could truthfully call me beautiful.' Unhurriedly Dieter looked her over, raising a quizzical brow as her colour rose. 'No, perhaps not. But then I have often thought that beauty is a rather cold thing. A man would more likely be bemused by sensual appeal, and you cannot deny that you are a very attractive woman.' 'Me?' exclaimed Judith incredulously. He was sitting back relaxedly in his chair, fingers clasped loosely on one knee, a faint smile hovering on the firm lips and a warmth in the depths of his normally cool grey eyes that unnerved her. Had it been any other man, she would have been sure he was making a pass at her. But Dieter? Deciding to take refuge in flippancy, she laughed lightly, then said, 'Oh, well, I won't argue with you. My admirers are not so numerous that I can afford to dissuade one.' 'I do believe you mean that,' he said slowly. 'Most women, if they are conscious of their powers of attraction, flirt a little. Even with men they don't particularly like— I've seen Vreni do it, and she's not normally what I should describe as a flirtatious type. But you never flirt at all— you seem completely unaware of yourself as a woman.' 'You think I ought to flirt?' she asked bluntly. 'No,' he replied consideringly. 'No, perhaps the fact that you don't is part of your appeal.- Now what have I said to embarrass you?' 'The whole subject embarrasses me,' she declared, inwardly cursing the hot tide of colour that had betrayed her. 'In England we don't discuss personal matters like this. Would you like it if I were to start discussing how handsome you are?'

'Jaa jaa,'' he smiled, 'but somehow I can't see it happening. I'm well aware that you have a low opinion of me; sometimes I think you'd like to emulate your namesake and chop off my head. Never mind, here comes the waiter. Now you can crawl back into your shell of English reticence and be comfortable again.'

During the meal his conversation was polite and impersonal, and on the drive home he once more sat in complete silence apart from the necessary route directions. This could have been, Judith thought ruefully, because she needed all her concentration for the driving along a road which, while not outstandingly difficult, was far from easy; but she was aware of an air of constraint between them, and felt it was more likely that he was regretting his lapse from formality. Altogether it was not the most comfortable of journeys, despite the magnificent scenery, and she was glad when they reached the chalet and Dieter announced his intention of working for the rest of the evening. Vreni appeared to be out, so Judith went up to her room to tidy herself and bring down a book to read. As she was leaving the room she paused almost involuntarily in front of the long mirror, scrutinising herself carefully. Try as she would, she could find little to admire. Long, abundant, manageable hair that could have been termed attractive had it not been coloured an indeterminate mouse; once or twice she had toyed with the thought of tinting it, but the idea of pretending to be other than she really was, was entirely foreign to her nature. Eyes that were likewise of no particular colour; features reasonably proportioned, but of no special merit; and a figure that was at once too tall and too generously built for the prevailing fashion of slim daintiness—the general effect was insipid, she decided disgustedly. And yet Dieter had said she was very attractive. Had he been joking, she wondered, or did he perhaps feel it necessary for the sake of politeness to make such remarks to a woman? Either

was possible, but remembering the warm look in his eyes she was inclined to believe he had meant what he said. Beauty in the eye of the beholder, perhaps ! Frowning at herself in the mirror, she remembered someone had once said she had a bonny smile, and selfconsciously she attempted to smile at herself. The result was a rather sickly simper, and she turned away in disgust. And yet, mingled with the disgust, was a warm glow. Dieter found her attractive. He was not, then, as unaware of her existence as she had imagined; he had looked at her with enough interest to discover something he liked, and she had been in his mind sufficiently for a quotation to remind him of her. What was it again— Something about beauty and sense of words? Deciding to take him at his word and look it up, she ran lightly down the stairs to his study. As she opened the door she was greeted by the clatter of something dropping and a flow of fluent invective. 'I'm— I'm sorry,' she stammered. 'I thought you were down in your workroom.' As she spoke Dieter looked across from his drawing- board. 'Sorry about the language, I didn't hear you come in. Now you're here, have you a few minutes to spare to hold the square for me? I'm managing to cope with the pencil in my left hand, but I can't get hold of the rule properly with the other because of this damned bandage. I'm sure the wrist itself is perfectly all right now, it's only the bandage that's stopping me from using it.' 'Which was the idea, I should imagine,' remarked Judith as she crossed to his side and held the square where he directed while he drew along it. She had necessarily to stand very close to him, with her emotions already in a heightened state the effect was disastrous. Every so often he took hold of her hand and moved the rule to a new position; his shoulder pressed into her back as he leaned over the board, his arm brushed against hers, and she could think of nothing

but the fervent wish to be held closely against him and feel his lips on hers. 'Do you recognise the plan?' he asked suddenly, and Judith hastily examined the sheet of paper she had been staring at so unseeingly. 'It looks a bit like the wrapping machine,' she ventured. He nodded. 'It's the sweet-wrapping version. You know we've been having trouble with it? The problem was the loose sugar coating on some sweets; it got into the machine and gummed up the works. I'm working on the idea of moving the hopper right away from the machine, and feeding the pastilles down a sort of sieve-like tube so that by the time they reach the machine proper any excess loose sugar has been left behind.' 'And what happens to the sugar you have extracted?' 'The perforated tube will be almost enclosed in another tube, which will catch the sugar and chute it down into some form of holder. Then it can be re-used—with the price of sugar these days that should be a good selling point. Damn I've dropped the pencil now!' As much because of a desire to break the tension caused by his nearness as a wish to help, Judith hastily stooped to pick it up for him; but he bent to retrieve it at the same time and the resulting collision sent Judith staggering back a little and as she hastily straightened in an effort to regain her balance she cracked her head hard against the metal wheel at the corner of the drawing-board. Everything went black; she didn't actually see stars, but flashes and whirls of coloured light that felt like some psychedelic freak-out. When she recovered her senses she found that she was held tightly in Dieter's arms, and he was asking urgently if she was all right. 'Sure,' she managed to stammer, 'sure, I'm fine. Just a bit dazed.'

'You gave yourself a terrific bang! Let me see.' Still holding her closely, he probed gently through her hair with the fingers of his left hand, and Judith could not restrain a wince as he found the injured spot. 'The skin isn't broken,' he murmured, 'but you'll probably have a lump the size of an egg. I'd better call the doctor.' 'Heavens, no,' protested Judith, making a feeble effort to move out of his arms. As if in protest they tightened around her, and she still felt too stunned to do other than give in and relax against him. 'There's no need for a doctor. I've a very hard head—apart from a headache, I'll be fine!' She looked up with a reassuring smile, and the concern in his eyes deepened to an expression of intent awareness. His arms tightened again, and his head moved slowly down towards hers. For one heartconstricting, breathless moment Judith knew he was going to kiss her, and the blood leapt through her veins. And then there was the sound of the front door slamming, and Verena's voice calling out to them. Dieter's arms dropped slowly away from her. 'In the study, Vreni,' he replied tonelessly. 'Sorry I'm late. I meant to be back before you returned —I just popped out for a minute or two, but was delayed,' explained Verena gaily as she entered the room. 'Oh— you're both here.' She looked from one to the other of them, sensing the awkwardness in the air, first curiously and then accusingly. 'Have you two been quarrelling again?' 'No,' said Dieter with a rather twisted smile. 'But Judith has had an argument with my drawing-board. She banged her head on it, and won't let me call the doctor.' Immediately Verena became all concern, and after protesting once more that she did not need medical attention, that all that was the

matter was a bit of a headache, Judith allowed the Swiss girl to lead her to her room, tuck her into bed and ply her with tablets and hot drinks. 'Now you get a good night's sleep,' urged Verena as she closed the door. But that was easier said than done. Even after the tablets had dulled the ache until it was no longer noticeable unless she moved, Judith lay wakeful. How could she possibly have been so stupid as to let herself become attracted to —no, why mince words, she mused ruefully—as to fall in love so hopelessly with a man who was completely out of the question! He was of a different nationality, different religion, different social standing. And although all these things could be overcome with sufficient love and tolerance, one thing could not. He had shown that he was attracted by her, but he had appeared to regret showing it; presumably it was not the first time he had been attracted to a woman, but he was still a bachelor. There was no future in falling in love with a man who had determined never to marry.

CHAPTER EIGHT THE tapping of her typewriter covered the sound of the opening door, so that Judith jumped in surprise when Erich Hartmann's voice told her that Herr Steiner would like to see her. Nervously pushing a strand of hair back from her face, she got up to go to his room. It was unlike him to send for her so formally these days, he had developed the habit of just walking into her office, and this somehow convinced her that the interview was unlikely to be pleasant. Added to her own reluctance to see him at all, this conviction made her knock on his door with some trepidation. No amount of careful make-up had been able to disguise her strained looks that morning, and Dieter had once more urged her to see a doctor, or at least to take the day off. Judith, well aware that the bump on her head was little to blame for her sleepless night, had insisted that she was perfectly well; but the knowledge of how nearly she had betrayed herself the evening before—few men in the circumstances would have resisted the temptation to steal a kiss, but Judith knew that if he had succeeded in doing so she would have been completely unable to hide her feelings for him—made her shy and awkward in his presence; which, added to the fact that he received a letter in the morning's post that seemed to disturb him a great deal, had ensured that they conversed little during the drive to the factory. When a curt voice bade her enter Judith went in. He was seated at his desk, a pile of papers in front of him, and two things struck her immediately. Firstly, that he was still looking disturbed and in far from a good temper, and secondly that his wrist was no longer bandaged. She was startled into remarking on the latter fact, and he glanced down impatiently. 'Yes, I've just returned from the doctor's. Fraulein, just before I left to go there, I received a complaint from a member of my staff.'

Judith's heart sank still further at his tone and his use of the formal 'Fraulein'. 'A complaint?' she repeated carefully. 'Yes. Kurt Schneidt came to see me,' he elucidated coldly. 'He complains that you are consistently insolent to him. That you lost your temper completely the day before yesterday, and made slanderous accusations.' 'I made slanderous accusations?' protested Judith indignantly. 'I did nothing of the sort! He was the one doing that! And I've never been insolent to him either, I've always taken great pains to be polite, even though I'm well aware that he resents me.' The hardness of Dieter's expression softened momentarily. 'It doesn't sound like you, I must .admit. You've always seemed to get on well with my staff. But Schneidt was very definite in his statements, very specific in his allegations. I can't think of a reason why he should bother to lie to me about such a matter.' 'We did have an argument,' she admitted unwillingly. 'But it was about personal matters, nothing to do with work.' 'I see. You didn't, for example, accuse him of not understanding the wrapping machine?' 'I ...' Judith stopped abruptly, her face flaming as she remembered that in the heat of the moment she had indeed made a remark of that nature. 'I—I'm sorry, I believe I did say something like that. It was because he wouldn't -' Dieter silenced her with a gesture. 'I'm not interested in the whys and wherefores, Fraulein. It simply won't do. I can't have established members of my staff upset by outsiders. You must remember that you are, in effect, a guest in this firm, and a guest should never argue with the hosts.'

'I'm sorry,' she stammered again, scarlet-faced. She had committed one of the cardinal sins of the Agency; the rule was never, never to quarrel with a client's staff. But oh, if Dieter only knew the provocation, the cause of, the argument ! That she had, in fact, been defending him and his sister against Schneidt's malice. And then Schneidt had had the nerve, the absolute gall, to come crawling to the man he had denigrated and present only half the story, and that half so twisted and turned that he was made out to be the injured party! Afraid, presumably, that Judith would have told Dieter what he had said, he had hastened to make accusations about her that would make anything she said about him appear to be caused by spite. Very successfully, too, she mused; even now, if she could bring herself, could lower herself, to relate the details of the argument, her chances of being believed were undermined. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated stiffly, her face now ashen. 'It won't happen again.' 'I should hope not. In fact, I think you ought to apologise to him.' 'Apologise?' Every feeling, every instinct rebelled. Apologise, when she had done no wrong, other than to let herself be provoked! Apologise to the man who had deliberately set out to make trouble for her, twisted her words in order to clear himself! 'If that's what you want,' she muttered unwillingly. Dieter passed a hand wearily over his eyes. 'If that's the tone in which you intend to apologise, Judith, perhaps it would cause less ill-feeling if the matter was simply dropped. Please try not to antagonise my staff in future.' 'You can rest assured of that,' said Judith dryly, knowing that no circumstances whatsoever could induce her to go near Kurt Schneidt ever again. 'May I go now, Herr Steiner?' 'One other thing. There is to be a special directors' meeting this afternoon at three, and I want you to attend. Please make sure that

you are available.' With a curt nod of dismissal he turned back to his papers and Judith did not have the courage to ask why her presence was required. Surely, surely an argument between herself and one of his staff was not so important that it had to be reported at that level! As she passed Erich Hartmann's desk, she paused. 'Herr Hartmann, what is all this about my having to attend a directors' meeting?' The secretary looked up at her. 'Ah, yes, Fraulein Carter, I was informed. I'll take you up there just before three, if you would be so good as to wait in your room.' 'But what is it all about?' she persisted. 'I couldn't say, Fraulein,' he replied distantly, and returned to his typing. Could—but wouldn't, mused Judith as she went back into her office. Not that she .could blame him; a private secretary had to be discreet. At the appointed time she followed him up to the boardroom. It was more workmanlike than imposing, but the long table surrounded by chairs gave it an aura of formality that seemed to impress on all those present the need to talk in hushed tones. The high-backed chair at one end was empty, but Judith recognised Pierre Larouche, Willi Baerlach, Johann Kessell and Walther Grueber in the seats on either side. A little lower sat a group of men whom she took to be the representatives of the Workers' Council, then right at the foot of the table a row of chairs to which she was directed. With sinking heart she noted the presence of Kurt Schneidt, then in increasing puzzlement she recognised two of the men from the draughting office along with Rico Granelli, Sepp Feller, and the three men comprising the section which manufactured the electronic heat- sealing component. Judith took her seat among them, realising that

something more important than a mere bicker between herself and Schneidt was in question. In a few moments Dieter entered the room and took his place at the head of the table, while an expectant hush fell and all eyes looked towards him. 'Gruezi, mitenand,' he began slowly. 'No doubt you are all wondering why this meeting has been called. Something serious has occurred, gentlemen, something that requires investigation without delay. I received a letter this morning, from the husband of a cousin of mine. Some of you may have heard of him; he is Paul Easton, the managing director of a rival firm, Gray's Engineering of England. He wrote because he thought I would like to know that his firm has been approached by an employee of ours, with an offer to sell them information on our new heat-sealing process.' A feeling of foreboding struck Judith as she heard his words, and the babble of consternation which followed. 'But who would do such a thing?' exclaimed Willi Baerlach. 'Who is it, Dieter?' 'I don't know that,' he replied slowly. 'The letter was anonymous, merely giving instructions to be followed if - Gray's wanted the information. Paul asked me if he should call in the police; the letter was typewritten—I have a photostat copy here—but they may be able to trace the machine. I telephoned him and said I would rather avoid the scandal of bringing this matter into the open, at least until-I had conferred with my fellow directors. Accordingly I have called here together every person who has had access to. the information, to see if we can get to the bottom of this. I need hardly say how serious this is, gentlemen. A less reputable firm might have taken up the offer; even an honourable firm, rejecting such means of information, might not have felt it necessary to inform me of what was going on. Unfortunately for the traitor, he happened to pick on a firm where the managing director is a relation by marriage. Now—can anyone throw any light on this matter?'

'I can't believe that any employee of this firm could do anything so underhand,' blustered Walther Grueber, and a buzz of agreement greeted his words. 'But somebody has, gentlemen,' Dieter reminded them dryly. The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by the sound of Kurt Schneidt clearing his throat. 'May I point something out?' he said in apologetic tones. 'Everyone seems to be taking it for granted that an employee of the firm is responsible. However, gentlemen, there is one person here who had access to the information, but who is not an employee and therefore can feel no ties of loyalty.' He shot a malevolent look at Judith as he sat down, and every eye in the room seemed to swivel round to her accusingly. 'The possibility has not been overlooked,' Dieter said curtly. 'That is why Fraulein Carter was asked to be present along with the rest of you.' Judith felt the room swimming round her. 'No!' she protested, the colour flooding to her face and then ebbing to leave it ashen-white. 'It's nothing to do with me! Why on earth should I do a thing like that?' 'For the same reason as anyone else, Fraulein,'' sneered Kurt Schneidt softly. 'For money. The information was offered for sale, not to be given away. We've never had any trouble like this before— not until an outsider was brought into the factory.' 'It isn't true,' whispered Judith almost inaudibly. Pierre Larouche spoke up. 'I don't think anyone should be accused without a little more investigation.'

'Agreed,' said Dieter briskly. 'Now—the men who are responsible for the manufacture of the heat-sealing component—Lorenzo, Bellini and Caretta. Have you followed what we have been saying?' The three Italian workmen scrambled to their feet, looking thoroughly uncomfortable in these unfamiliar surroundings, and conferred amongst themselves in their own tongue. Then Bellini, apparently appointed spokesman, replied in broken German. 'Si, signore, we have understand. But we know nothing.' Dieter looked from one to the other. 'Would I be right in thinking that none of you speak any English?' Three heads emphatically shook their denial. 'You, Granelli?' 'Only three words,' claimed Rico, irrepressible even in this fraught atmosphere. 'I can say, "I love you".' Dieter frowned down the titter of amusement. 'You, Feller?' 'A little, Herr Steiner,' the Swiss replied uncertainly. 'I learned it at school, of course, but I was never much good at book-learning.' Dieter nodded. 'The letter was written in English, good English—so I think that rules the five of you out. You may go back to your work— but first, I want to know if anyone has been asking you any questions about the process. Anyone at all, even apparently innocently.' The three Italians conferred again, then Bellini shook his head. 'No, signore. Except the signorina, of course,' he added with an apologetic look at Judith. 'And Herr Schneidt before that, of course,' added Rico, with Sepp Feller nodding agreement. 'But nobody who should not have been asking questions, Herr Steiner.' The five were sworn to secrecy over the business of the meeting and allowed to file from the room,

leaving Judith sitting as though frozen to the chair, feeling she was living through some form of nightmare. 'You say the letter was in English?' grunted Baerlach when the door closed behind them. 'Yes, though that doesn't necessarily incriminate Fraulein Carter,' said Dieter objectively. 'Anyone with a command of the language would write to an English firm in English, that nation not being renowned for their linguistic abilities.' 'May we ask if the Fraulein has any connection with Gray's Engineering?' interpolated Johann Kessel. 'I should have thought a Swiss would be more likely to approach another Swiss firm with his offer.' Feeling as though she were sinking ever deeper into a quagmire, Judith glanced at Dieter, who knew the answer to that question only too well. He was staring down at the photostat copy of the letter, making no attempt to reply on her behalf, and she licked her dry lips nervously. 'It depends what you mean by a connection,' she murmured huskily, knowing that her answer could not help her case. 'I know the firm, certainly. I've done translation work for them.' Dieter cut into the buzz that ensued. 'Shall we continue the investigation?' He proceeded to question the two draughtsmen, Kurt Schneidt, and finally Judith herself, who by now was so distressed she hardly knew what she was replying. She was aware that everyone in the room considered her guilty; Dieter was making every effort to give her a fair hearing, but things looked black against her and doubtless he too was convinced. It was such an easy, comfortable verdict, she thought bitterly. The outsider, the foreigner, to blame; no ripple to be caused in the cosy family atmosphere of the firm.

The questioning over, Dieter looked round consideringly. 'Well, there it is, gentlemen. We don't seem to have got very far. Has anyone any suggestions?' Just as it seemed that no one was going to speak, Kurt Schneidt stood up. 'Don't you think, Herr Steiner,' he asked deprecatingly, 'that it would be as well to call in the police? If the letter could be traced to a particular typewriter ...' The words were innocent enough, but his glance at Judith made his meaning clear to all present. She sat numbly, too stunned even to protest any more. Dieter looked long and coolly at Schneidt, who sat down rather hurriedly with a trace of colour in his sallow cheeks. 'I don't think there would be much point in that. I have no doubt that it would prove to have been typed on one of our machines, but even if it had been typed on the one used by Fraulein Carter—as I think you are suggesting—it doesn't follow that she typed it. In fact,' he added dryly, 'if I were going to write a letter of this nature I'd make damned sure I didn't use a typewriter that could be traced back to me! I think, gentlemen, that the meeting will now be closed to all except directors of the firm. You can go back to your work, while we decide what is to be done now.' The two draughtsmen, the Workers' Council and Kurt Schneidt scraped back their chairs and filed towards the door, leaving only the directors and Erich Hartmann with his shorthand pencil poised. Blindly Judith stumbled to her feet and followed, aware of several pairs of eyes following her movements. In the corridor she ignored the others who were huddled together discussing the meeting and walked unseeingly down the stairs and back to her room, where she collapsed on to the chair and laid her head on her desk. They were convinced she was to blame, she knew that. She would be packed ignominiously back to England; and would even Anthony Crighton-Jones, lacking evidence to the contrary, believe in her

innocence? The thought appalled her; she knew that when her time came to leave Switzerland—and Dieter—she would suffer a great deal of heartache, and she had been relying on her work and her friends to act as an anodyne. But if Mr Tony believed that she had abused her trust, that she had been guilty of industrial espionage, she would lose her job; word would be passed round the other agencies and she would never obtain another such post. Life as she knew it would be over. And worst of all would be the loss of whatever of Dieter's approval and regard she had so far won. Wearily she raised her head. There was nothing she could do until the directors reached their verdict; perhaps they might decide to do nothing because of lack of evidence. Deciding that she would go crazy if she sat doing nothing until Dieter came back, she began mechanically typing. The general office staff had all packed up and gone home when she heard Dieter and his secretary enter the outer office. Her fingers faltered for a moment, then she recommenced typing, pounding the keys as though the act was some magical recipe for the avoidance of evil. When Dieter came into her room at last she looked up at him with a white face in which her eyes burned like glowing coals. 'Judith, has your typewriter any peculiarities?' he asked briskly. 'Yes,' she replied quietly, knowing almost fatalistically why the question had been asked. 'The "s" types a little out of true, a little above the line.' Silently she proffered one of the sheets she had just typed, and he compared it with the photostat of the letter to Gray's. 'I suppose the letter was typed on this machine,' she said dully. 'It would appear so.' Despairingly she slumped back in her chair. 'You think I did it, don't you?'

There was a long silence, and when at length she raised her eyes to his face it was to see a rather odd expression there, an expression compounded of weariness, worry and disillusion. 'Nei,' he replied quietly. 'No, the evidence points that way, but I can't believe you would. For God's sake, Judith, don't cry!' The relief was so great that Judith could not suppress the tears that streamed down her face, tears of overwrought emotion, but she wiped them away impatiently. 'I'm all right—it's just that I never thought you would believe me. I know appearances were all against me, that I was the most likely suspect. Who—who do you think ...?' 'I'm not sure,' he replied dispiritedly. 'I think it was probably Kurt Schneidt. He seemed particularly anxious to incriminate you, and he had equal opportunity. But it might be someone else entirely... I hope to have some more information tomorrow. One item I withheld from the general meeting, though I told the other directors. We agreed not to call in the police, but Paul arranged for- the fingerprint expert of a private detective agency to go over the letter. If he can find a set of prints that don't appear to belong to any of the Gray's personnel that handled the letter, he'll fly out here tomorrow and fingerprint all concerned.' 'Oh, I hope he finds some!' exclaimed Judith eagerly. Dieter smiled wryly. 'If anything had been needed to convince me of your innocence, that would have been it,' he commented. 'I wonder if Kurt Schneidt would be so anxious for prints to be found? Come on, Judith, clear away. Let's go home—I've had quite enough for today.'

Late the next morning Dieter came into her office accompanied by a small man carrying an attaché case. 'This is Mr West from the

detective agency,' he explained. 'Begin with Miss Carter, please,' he added in English to the man. Mr West cleared his throat deprecatingly. 'I would say the prints are almost certainly those of a male.' 'It does not matter. Check everyone, then there can be no argument. I'm sure Judith is willing.' 'By all means!' she cried fervently. So prints had been found, and her name would be cleared! Eagerly she pressed her fingers on the paper, grinning from ear to ear when the man pronounced that they were nothing like the ones he was seeking. As the two men left the room Dieter looked back and gave her a warm, almost affectionate smile; her own in reply was dazzling in its happiness. It was nice that he had believed in her, but nicer still that his trust had been verified. Her assumption had been correct, too, she reflected idly; Dieter spoke English well, a little over-correctly as was common with foreigners who didn't use the language a great deal, and with a faint accent that she found extremely attractive. Now, that was enough of that! she told herself firmly. No need to let relief go to her head. She must keep firmly in mind the thought that in only another couple of weeks her task would be finished and she would have to return to London.' At five-thirty Erich Hartmann came into her room, and handed her the Citroen keys. 'Herr Steiner is in a directors' meeting and doesn't know when he'll be free. He said to tell you he would get a lift home.' Judith took the keys. 'Another meeting? Have they—do they know who wrote the letter?' she asked hesitantly. 'Yes,' the secretary admitted cautiously, giving little away. 'No doubt Herr Steiner will tell you about it later.'

And with that crumb of information Judith had to remain content. It was considerably later when Dieter arrived at the chalet, driven by Pierre Larouche. Pierre would not stay for a meal but accepted a drink before leaving, so Judith volunteered to attend to Dieter's food, which had been kept warm, in order to allow Vreni a few moments alone with him. She took the dishes out of the oven and set them on the dining table, then went back into the kitchen while he was eating and ground coffee and set the percolator in action. Soon a delicious aroma of fresh coffee was permeating the air, and Judith grinned at her new proficiency at this art, when hitherto her method had been to add boiling water to a teaspoonful of instant. By the time it was ready Dieter had finished eating and carried his dishes back into the kitchen, so at his suggestion she set a tray with four cups and the jug of coffee and he carried it through into the sitting-room. Pierre, however, had already left and Verena was sitting staring dreamily into space; Judith glanced sharply at Dieter, wondering if he would notice. But he was wearing the same air of tired disillusionment that she had seen the day before, and she felt a sympathy so sharp as to be almost a pain. Though bursting with curiosity she did not like to ask what had happened at the meeting, and handed him his coffee silently. As though sensing her restraint he looked up and smiled. 'You'll be glad to know the matter of the letter has been cleared up. The prints were those of Kurt Schneidt, as I thought. At first he denied it altogether, but in the end he broke down and admitted everything. We had to dismiss him, of course. We can't keep on someone who would do a thing like that.' 'Did he—did he do it deliberately to make trouble for me?' Judith asked in a low voice; she found it a far from pleasant thought that anyone could hate her to such an extent. Dieter spoke quickly and reassuringly. 'No, his motive was easy money. You were just a convenient scapegoat, someone suitable that

he happened to have a grudge against. Incidentally, Willi Baerlach told me something of that argument you had. Thank you for your championship of Verena and myself.' Colouring in embarrassment as she wondered whether Herr Baerlach had repeated the original insinuation concerning Dieter and herself, Judith hastily reverted the conversation to its original channel. 'You won't report the matter to the police?' 'Net; I can't see what good it would do to put him behind bars, particularly in view of the difficulties that would arise from some of the witnesses being in England. He'll find it difficult to get another position of any responsibility with the very guarded reference which is all we are prepared to provide, that should be punishment enough. But how can we give him a good reference knowing that he is weak enough to do the same thing to another firm if the chance arose? To think that a man who has worked for us, for my father first and then for me, for so long could be so disloyal! It shatters one's faith in human nature. Still, now it's over. We shall have to put it behind us, advertise the vacancy, and concentrate on other— Liebe Gott, Verena! I nearly forgot! I should have told you days ago, but all this put it out of my mind. I have some important prospective customers, Saudi Arabians, coming to the factory on Monday and I'll be bringing them home for dinner. Ask Anni to put on something special, will you, and get a couple of the village girls roped in for waiting on. I'll need you as hostess as well, of course.' Verena, who had been only half attending to his conversation with Judith, sat up abruptly. 'This Monday?' Dieter nodded. 'There'll be eight of the Saudi Arabians, two oil sheiks and their retinue of secretaries and accountants. Plus of course Willi Baerlach and myself.'

Verena stood up, looking a little pale. 'Certainly I'll make all the arrangements for you, but I won't be available to act as hostess.' 'Not be available?' Her brother regarded her impatiently. 'Of course you must be available! You always act as my hostess. Whatever else you had in mind will have to be put off.' 'I'll do no such thing!' snapped Verena, two spots of angry colour high on her cheeks standing out noticeably against the otherwise pale face. 'But you must! These are important clients, Vreni, they're considering the purchase of several wrapping machines. The order would be worth millions of francs— and I can't invite them to my home without a hostess. No arrangement you have made can be more important than that!' 'It's more important to me,' insisted Verena through gritted teeth. 'Steiner Maschinenfabrik may be your entire life, Dieter, but it isn't mine. I'm not even connected with the company any more—I gave up my director's seat to Pierre, as you wanted. If you must have a hostess, get Willi's wife to act for you.' 'Frau Baerlach doesn't speak English, and that's the only European language these men understand,' Dieter explained impatiently. 'Vreni, for heaven's sake be reasonable.' 'You're the one who's being unreasonable! You come in here on a Friday night and calmly announce an important dinner party the next Monday, then expect everybody to drop everything and run to do your bidding. Well, I won't do it! I'm your sister, not your slave—I've told you I'll arrange things for you, though heaven knows the notice is abominably short, but you'll have to manage without my presence. Get Tante Hetta—she can speak English.'

'Jaa jaa, after a fashion,' agreed Dieter scornfully, 'but not as well as you. What's more, she dresses appallingly and you know she's utterly hopeless on social occasions.' 'I can't help that. I'm going out on Monday night, and the arrangement has been made for a long time. I won't cancel it, not for you or for anybody! No, Judy, don't go —wait a moment!' Judith, who had decided to make herself scarce from what looked like developing into the mother and father of a family row, was stopped in the doorway by a hand on her wrist and pulled back into the room. 'Here's the answer, Dieter!' cried Verena triumphantly. 'You need an English-speaking hostess—what better than an English girl?' Judith gave a gasp of surprise. 'Vreni, no! I couldn't possibly ...' Her voice tailed off as she saw Dieter eyeing her speculatively. 'Yes. Yes, why not?' he ruminated. 'It would do just as well. Perhaps better, because you understand the machine and could interpret if we got bogged down on technical matters.' 'But I wouldn't know what to do!' wailed Judith in panic. 'Of course you would, it's easy,' reassured Verena, eagerly seizing this way of solving the problem. 'You just smile, and shake hands, and see everyone has sufficient food and drink. It's not like a social affair where you have to keep the conversation rolling; apart from a few politenesses you won't be able to get a word in edgeways—the talk will be machinery, machinery and more machinery! You can't go wrong!' Judith gulped. 'I—I have nothing suitable to wear,' she demurred, her resolution weakening with the wish to help her friend—she had realised from the vehemence of Verena's refusal that Monday was the night she was to go with Pierre to the theatre. 'I didn't bring any evening dresses with me.'

Verena grinned. 'That's no problem either. You're pretty much the same size as I am. I have a black dress that has always been a little too big for me—come to my room and we'll try it on you.' Still Judith hesitated, but Dieter came across and took her hand. 'Please, Judy. I do need a hostess.' Involuntarily Judith nodded and allowed Vreni to pull her up the stairs. One word of cajolence from him, she thought ruefully, and she was as putty in his hands. But at least 'choody' sounded a fraction better than 'chewed-it'. She eyed the dress, when Vreni pulled it out of the fitted wardrobe, with misgiving. For one thing black never suited her, she considered it too harsh for her mousy colouring. And for another, the skirt was narrow with a deep slit up one leg to allow room for walking, and the top appeared to Judith's dismayed eye practically non-existent. To make matters worse, it was a clinging material, and though it might be a little too big on the Swiss girl it proved to be very tight fit on her own more opulent figure. 'Heavens, Vreni, I can't wear this!' she exclaimed, eyeing the vast display of bare flesh in horror. 'It's positively indecent!' 'Of course it isn't,' maintained Verena stoutly, though Judith suspected she must be influenced by her desire for Judith to take her place. 'It is an evening dress, you know, and evening dresses usually show a little décolletage. Besides, you don't have to go out in public.' 'No, only sit at a table with ten men,' retorted Judith humorously. 'And I should hardly describe it as showing a little décolletage! One too-deep breath and I'd be in dire trouble! It's no use, Vreni, I simply can't wear it. I look like an old-style Hollywood starlet ripe for the casting couch.'

'Nonsense. It looks perfectly all right,' Verena insisted stubbornly. 'Look, if you don't believe me, we'll get .a second opinion. We'll go and ask Dieter.' Judith felt extremely embarrassed at the thought of appearing before him in such a garment, and tried to argue, but eventually realised that there was no other way to dissuade Verena and reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled downstairs and into the sitting-room where Dieter was glancing through a technical magazine. 'Dieter, this silly girl says the dress is no good. It isn't modest enough for her, she claims— and she an inhabitant of permissive London too!' Verena exclaimed. 'Tell her it's suitable, will you—I can't convince her.' Dieter's eyes widened as Judith stood blushingly before him. Slowly he rose and walked all round her, eyeing her consideringly; Judith felt like nothing so much as a cow on market day, and almost expected a question as to her yield. Finally he faced her, rubbing his chin with one hand in an attempt to conceal a broad grin. 'I'm not surprised you can't convince her. Sorry, Vreni, I have to, agree with Judith—it won't do. I'm trying to sell these men machines, not an addition to their harem—but if Judy appears in that outfit I'm willing to bet they'd start bidding for her!' 'Dieter Steiner! Are you suggesting my clothes are indecent? You didn't complain the last time I wore that dress for a business dinner!' 'When did you—ah, yes, I remember. But that, Vreni, was for a company of sophisticated Parisian businessmen, not men who are used to women veiled and shrouded from head to foot. Besides, you are not so—Judith is rather more ...' Words failed him, but his hands described his meaning graphically in the air and Judith's embarrassment reached fever pitch. 'Fatter,' she supplied flatly.

'That wasn't quite what I had in mind,' he grinned almost mischievously. 'The bottom half appears to fit well enough.' 'Stop teasing her, you beast,' remonstrated Verena protectively, 'or she'll refuse to act as your hostess too, and then where would you be? You'd have to ask Trudi.' 'God forbid!' he shuddered. 'But that dress won't do for this occasion, Vreni. I'd never be able to concentrate on business! Do me a favour, take Judy shopping tomorrow and buy something suitable. Put it on your account and I'll pay the bill.' 'You can't buy me a dress,' objected Judith. 'I'll pay for it myself.' 'You will not. The dress is required for company business, so the company will pay. Look on it as a uniform,' he insisted as Judith began to protest again. 'The company never paid for my -' began Verena indignantly, but stopped, looking the picture of guilt, as her brother frowned warningly. 'Are you sure you trust me to choose something suitable?' she asked teasingly. 'You don't have to, Judith can choose her own. All you need to do, my dear, is sign the bill. And you're very necessary for that, because I have no desire whatever to hang around dress shops for hours!'

Judith could not repress a sinking feeling every time she thought of the approaching dinner party. She had never even attended a formal dinner before, let alone presided as hostess. On the Northumbrian farm high tea was followed by supper and dinner was a meal eaten in the middle of the day. Naturally she had been out to dinner in London, but they had been merely meals for two or four at

restaurants, never a private party. There was little enough time to worry about it the next morning as she followed Verena from boutique to shop and back to boutique in the capital city of Bern, but even in the excitement of trying on dress after dress the reason for the shopping expedition was at the back of her mind. When they had finally settled for a simple but well-cut dress in shades of misty green, which Judith strongly suspected had cost more than the rest of her wardrobe put together, she announced her intention of staying to look round the city and making her own way back by train. But even though she determinedly saw all the sights from the Houses of Parliament to the famous clock-tower, from the rather stark Calvinist cathedral to the bear-pits, and although she permitted herself the extravagance of buying a pair of sturdy but light walking shoes for her mountain rambles, the thoughts of Monday evening hung over her like a cloud. On the Sunday, hearing that the Leissinger twins were expected for the day, she announced her intention of trying out her new shoes by taking the steamer to Beatenbucht, then ascending by funicular and chair-lift to the summit of the Niederhorn and strolling about on the mountain top. 'I wouldn't have thought you needed to buy walking shoes for that,' said Dieter dryly. 'It sounds a very tourist-type trip to me.' 'The paths at the top are just as stony and rough to the feet if you get up the easy way as if you walk up from the bottom,' said Judith defensively. 'Besides, it's all very well for you, who've lived here all your life, to be snooty about it, but I like chair-lifts.' 'So do I at times. But have you never felt the urge to conquer a mountain for yourself, to walk right up from the very bottom, away from the tourist track? I mean one of the lower mountains, naturally, not the high Alps which involve rock-climbing.' 'They may seem low to you,' grinned Judith, 'but they're higher than anything we have in Britain. I've often thought about it, as a matter of

fact, but I've never plucked up the courage. I'm not sure how long it would take, and I have an uneasy feeling I'd end up lost, miles from civilisation, and with night falling rapidly.' 'The paths are well marked,' he argued mildly. 'I'll have to take you one day if you don't feel confident enough on your own. You can't go back to England without having climbed even one tiny little Alp.' For a while Judith thrilled to the thought, then decided that as she was to go home so soon the words were more reminiscent of a casual 'you must drop in and see us some time', not meant to be taken seriously, than a genuine intention. And that reminded her of how soon she must say goodbye to him for ever, so that between that thought and dread of the approaching dinner party even the magnificent view of sparkling blue lake far below and shining snowcapped peaks beyond could not cheer her for long. On the Monday matters were made worse by glimpses of swarthy figures clad in flowing white robes being escorted round the factory. That evening she dressed carefully, taking extra pains with her makeup and receiving the approval of a rather feverish-eyed Verena before the latter dashed off on her date. Judith made her way slowly downstairs, and with a rather shaking hand accepted her sweet sherry from Dieter. He appeared extremely distinguished, she noticed, dressed in a white dinner jacket which emphasised his fair good looks, then coloured slightly as she realised that he was inspecting her just as carefully. 'You look very beautiful,' he said politely. 'Liar!' accused Judith cheerfully. 'Never mind, it was a kind lie, so thank you, even if I don't believe a word of it.' His eyes crinkled with amusement. 'As I said before, not an ounce of flirtation ... At least let me say that you are looking very attractive,

and that the dress becomes you very well. Walther Grueber thinks we ought to pay you for this evening,' he added in a tone of gentle inquiry. Judith's eyes widened in astonishment and indignation, then she indicated far from politely just what the company Accountant could do with his suggestion. 'I'd be highly offended. I can't say I'm looking forward to the evening, but I look on it as a small attempt to repay at least some of the many kindnesses I have received.' Dieter grinned. 'I told him you'd say that. You look nervous—are you?' 'Terrified!' she admitted fervently. He laughed. 'So am I—at the thought of your critical ear hearing my far from perfect English! But don't worry, everything will be fine. And as they have spent a good deal of the day talking amongst themselves in their own language, they can hardly think it rude if we exchange the occasional comment in German, of which I gather they understand not a word, so you can ask if there is anything you are unsure of. By the sound of it, here are the cars.' He covered her nervously twisting fingers reassuringly with one large brown hand and urged her gently out of the front door. 'Come along, we'll greet them at the top of the steps.' To Judith's profound relief the evening passed very smoothly, once she had recovered from her initial confusion at the very personal and flowery compliments the two sheiks seemed to deem it necessary to pay her. Anni had excelled herself with the meal; nothing too elaborate, just the local cheese soup followed by veal in a sauce of white wine and mushrooms with new potatoes, carrots and beans fresh from the chalet garden, then a fluffy orange soufflé and the usual board with a wide selection of cheeses, but all perfectly cooked and served pleasantly and efficiently by two girls from the village.

They had performed this service several times before and happily needed no direction from Judith, who was able to devote her attention to the smoothing of a conversation held of necessity in a language that was foreign to all but herself. Though careful never to put herself forward she unobtrusively kept the discussion flowing, suppressing her amusement at the obvious amazement of the Arabs that a mere female, a chattel, should have such an understanding of technical matters. When the meal was over the discussion continued over coffee and brandy, and at length the Arabs went into a huddle while the two Swiss men and the English girl looked at each other warily and hopefully. Judith had admired their business technique; nothing high-pressured about their salesmanship, but their honest belief in the advantages of their machinery had come over clearly. Willi Baerlach winked cheerfully at Judith while Dieter furtively held up a pair of crossed fingers, as they waited for the Arabs to come to a decision. Finally they came out of their conclave and the taller of the two sheiks, who seemed to be in charge, announced their intention of purchasing no less than fifty of the wrapping machines, in various forms, over the next five years, for use in the new factories they were building as part of their programme for improving the living standards of their previously poverty-stricken and now oil-rich countries. Though he took the news with calm assurance Judith was aware of Dieter's elation at winning so huge an order, worth an astronomical number of Swiss francs, as they proceeded to thrash out a draft agreement which was then typed out by one of the Arab secretaries and signed by all concerned. By the time all was settled it was quite late and the guests prepared to take their leave. Judith, bubbling over with joy that the evening had gone so well, was hard put to it to keep her composure and smile gracefully as the two sheiks paid her their final flowery compliments. And it was with the greatest difficulty that she kept a straight face as the tall sheik effusively congratulated Dieter on his good fortune in having found a woman

who was not only beautiful as the morning and charming as a nightingale but could also assist him so capably in business, and ended by wishing him the joy of many strong sons from her! At last they were gone, and as the procession of cars turned out on to the main road Judith collapsed into giggles. 'You little wretch!' chuckled Dieter softly. 'How I managed not to laugh when I looked at you, I'll never know. If you could have seen your expression when that young secretary or whatever he was drank his soup straight out of the bowl and then proceeded to eat his main course with the soup spoon, and when His Excellency Abdul Ben-whatever-his- name-was said you had a complexion like velvet and hair like spun silk!' 'Well, I've always called it mousy!' gurgled Judith, thankful that he had not seen fit to repeat some of the more personal compliments that had been paid her; eastern men were said to like their women on the large side, and their remarks had certainly borne out the fact. 'But I tried so hard to keep my composure. Was my amusement very noticeable?' she demanded anxiously. Dieter grinned broadly as they returned inside. 'No, they wouldn't notice. It was the twinkle in your eye and the faint twitch of your lips that I saw, but strangers wouldn't realise what it meant. In fact, I'm sure they would never believe that a creature as lowly as a woman could possibly be laughing at them! Even you, though you obviously impressed them by your technical acumen, they believed to be merely my concubine! But never mind, it was all worth it. That contract will keep the works going full pelt for the next few years, and in these difficult times that is no small thing. Everything went off very well—and you did magnificently, Judith!' To her surprise, as though involuntarily, he flung an arm around her and hugged her close. As she glanced up questioningly, he bent his head and kissed her briefly but thoroughly, and for all that she had dreamed longingly of such a moment it was so unexpected that she

could do nothing but stare up at him in blank amazement. Rather self-consciously, he released her. 'I'm sorry,' he said stiffly. 'For a moment I forgot that you were not Verena.' Judith blinked. The kiss had been unlike any of the pecks she had ever received from her own brothers, and bore little relation to any that she had seen him bestow on his sister; it had, in fact, been anything but brotherly. If he was trying to pass it off as such it could only be because he had kissed her on impulse, in the elation of receiving a large order and under the influence perhaps of just a little too much brandy, but did not wish her to read anything into it. To hide her disappointment and chagrin she moved quickly away from him. 'That sounds like Verena,' she said brightly as she heard the tread of feet upon the chalet steps and the front door opened. It was indeed Verena, a rather rebellious Verena with flushed cheeks and fever-bright eyes, with a determined- looking Pierre hard on her heels. 'I'm glad you're still up, Fraulein Carter,' he exclaimed thankfully. 'Will you please talk some sense into this silly child? We were to go dancing after the theatre, but Verena is obviously far from well and I think she ought to go straight to bed.' 'I'm not ill, I will not go to bed, I want to go dancing!' wailed Verena tearfully, then slid dramatically in a heap on the floor.

In the confusion that followed Judith had no opportunity to think of her own problems. An anxious-faced Pierre scooped Verena up into his arms and demanded the way to her bedroom; Dieter, after one surprised and thoughtful glance from his sister to her escort, deputed Judith to show the way while he went firstly to request Anni's assistance in getting Verena to bed, and then to ring for the doctor. Within a short while, however, he entered Verena's room alone, looking rather harassed; Anni was fully occupied with her husband,

who was also ill with a high temperature, and he had sent for the doctor to attend to both patients. Verena had recovered from her faint quite quickly, but a mixture of physical weakness and chagrin at the ruin of her long-anticipated evening made her tearful and rebellious; it was not without a great deal of persuasion and effort that Dieter and Judith finally got her undressed and into bed. The doctor quickly diagnosed influenza, fairly mild in Fritz's case but a rather virulent attack where poor Verena was concerned. Pierre left with the doctor and brought the prescribed tablets from the dispensary, then reluctantly allowed them to shoo him away. By then dawn was breaking; Verena took one of the pills which the doctor had assured them would send her to sleep, but before they had worked she overhead Dieter talking of bringing in day and night nurses and worked herself into such a state at the thought of being cared for by strangers that Judith offered to look after her in the evenings and nights if Anni could cope during the day when she was out at work. Dieter immediately argued that it would be too much for her, but Verena was so pathetically pleased at the suggestion that he eventually agreed and she fell into an exhausted but pacified sleep. It seemed barely five minutes after she had wearily crawled into bed that Judith's alarm rang. Hastily she washed and dressed and then checked on Verena, who was still sleeping under the influence of the drug, but looked fevered and restless. Judith gently sponged her face, neck and arms, but decided that she could not change her nightdress without waking her and sped down the stairs to see to the breakfast. The baker's boy had just delivered the morning rolls and Dieter was in the process of making coffee. He handed the Citroen keys to her, explaining, 'If you have the use of a car for yourself you can leave the schali later and return early at night, regardless of my movements. I'll use Verena's car; it's a bit high-powered for you to drive without previous practice.'

Anni obtained help from the village with the housework and nursed the two invalids herself. Verena was not an easy patient; normally abounding with health, she did not take kindly to feeling weak and listless and aching all over. The first day Judith slipped back to the chalet during the lunch break to see how Anni was coping; she sat with Verena for a while, and this was so much appreciated that she resolved to do it every day. For the rest of the week she helped Anni to wash and change Verena after breakfast, dashed off to the factory, hurried home and back at lunch- time, then drove back promptly at five-thirty and spent the entire evening with the Swiss girl. Almost every night she woke up at about three or half-past, hearing Verena coughing restlessly, and rose to make her a hot drink. It was wearing, but she was only too glad to do all she could for the girl who had taken such great pains to make her stay as comfortable and enjoyable as possible. On the Saturday morning Dieter went in to the works as usual, then after lunch announced that he had to go out again but would be back shortly and would then amuse Verena with a game of cards. Before he returned, however, Pierre arrived and asked diffidently if he might see Vreni; he had made a point every morning of ringing Judith in her office to ask after the invalid. Vreni was now feeling sufficiently well to worry about her appearance, and Judith brushed her hair and held the mirror while she applied a little make-up before admitting Pierre to the room, then slipped downstairs on the excuse of making a hot drink ready for Verena to take her next tablet. To her surprise when she reached the kitchen she found Dieter had returned and was already engaged in the task. 'I was just going to do that,' she said defensively. He turned and eyed her critically. 'I'm saving you the trouble. Sit down for a few minutes, you look completely washed out.' 'Thanks a lot!' retorted Judith, nevertheless sinking thankfully into a chair. 'It does a girl's ego a power of good to be told she looks a hag.'

He smiled faintly. 'You know I didn't mean that. But it has been far too much for you, working and looking after my selfish sister, as I said it would.' 'She isn't selfish—at least, not more than most people when they're feeling ill,' objected Judith. 'Perhaps. But one thing I'm sure of, that it's time you had a break and some fresh air. I called to see Tante Hetta this afternoon; I hoped to bring her back with me, but she has visitors this evening. However, she is coming to take over early in the morning, and you and I, my girl, are going to climb a mountain. It may not sound restful, but it will be a complete change and blow the sickroom cobwebs off you; and I'll guarantee that tomorrow night you'll sleep like the dead! Verena just has hot milk, doesn't she—what do you want? Coffee?' Judith nodded. Her spirits had lifted miraculously; it had not been a meaningless invitation, after all, he had meant it and gone to some trouble to bring it about. 'She has a visitor,' she volunteered diffidently. 'I know, I saw his car. We'll take the drinks upstairs, if you think we have allowed them enough time together now? Oh yes, I've noticed at last,' he added sardonically as she jumped, 'I'm quite bright, you know. I only have to have something pushed under my nose a couple of hundred times and I begin to catch on.' 'You don't mind?' He shrugged. 'Why should I? I like Pierre. At first I thought he wouldn't be strong-minded enough to handle her, but judging by Monday evening he'll manage.' 'Why should a woman need handling?' flared Judith. 'You make her sound like a dog!'

'All right, don't jump down my throat! Not all women need it, but Vreni is headstrong, she needs a tempering influence. As you do, to contain that hot temper of yours!' he finished with a wicked grin as Judith visibly struggled to control the outburst that would have proved his point.

CHAPTER NINE HETTA STEINER'S 'early to bed' maxim was obviously matched by an 'early to rise', thought Judith ruefully as she heard the sounds of arrival just after seven the next morning. She was still debating what to wear—dithering like a schoolgirl on her first date, she told herself impatiently—and it wasn't even a date, it was simply that Dieter was eager to display the attractions of his homeland to a foreigner. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a brand new, long-sleeved check shirt; now that the year, was into September the mornings and evenings held a chill warning of the approaching long winter, and presumably up in the mountains even in the middle of the day it might prove fairly cool. She thrust a thick cardigan into her shoulder bag, pulled on socks and her walking shoes, then ran lightly down the stairs and out on to the balcony where she could hear Tante Hetta's gruff voice. 'A fine thing, no one here to greet me when I arrive,' she was grumbling in the direction of Dieter, who had obviously been out and was just returning up the chalet stairs. 'I told you I'd be going to church at half-past six,' he replied mildly. 'I shouldn't think we'll be back early enough to go. there tonight. Good morning, Judith. We appear to have a good day for our trip.' Fraulein Steiner spun round and smiled a greeting at Judith, the grey eyes so like those of her nephew scrutinising the young girl carefully as they all sat down at the breakfast table where Anni was setting out the usual coffee and rolls. 'Hm!' she said brusquely. 'Dieter was right. You do look worn out—though I'm amazed he lifted his eyes away from his drawing-board long enough to notice. How's Vreni this morning?' 'Still asleep when I looked in, but she seemed much better last night. I think it did her good to have a visitor yesterday; she is getting bored

with lying around now that she's not feeling quite so ill, but she still isn't strong enough to do much else.' Tante Hetta nodded. 'If she's well enough I'll get her into a chair here on the balcony where she can see a bit of life out on the lake. Are you dashing off already, Dieter?' she added inquiringly as he rose and picked up a packed rucksack. 'If you don't mind, Tante. If we miss the train I'm aiming for we'll never have time to do the walk I've planned. Have you got everything you need, Judith? Anni has packed us a picnic lunch—enough for an army, by the look of it— but there's still room in here for your mac if you pass it over.' 'I think I can manage it myself,' grinned Judith, 'I seem to be getting off very lightly weightwise. Thank you very much for coming over just to let us out for the day, Fraulein Steiner.' 'I'd have come anyway to see Vreni, so I might as well be useful,' came the brisk reply. 'Now, Dieter, take care and don't wear the girl out. Don't forget she isn't used to mountain walking—and you tell him if you need a rest, Judith. If you don't he'll expect you to keep chugging on like one of his blessed machines. He might notice if you collapsed at his feet so he had to step over you, but I wouldn't rely on it; he doesn't even notice when he's ill himself. It's high time you married, you know,' she added, fixing her nephew with a stern stare. 'Verena won't be around to run after you and smooth out your domestic path for ever. Then who'll look after you?' Dieter had tensed as though this was an old argument, but answered blandly, 'I can imagine the reply I'd get if I asked a girl to marry me because my aunt thought I needed looking after! Are you ready, Judith?'

Agreeing, Judith stood up and prepared to follow, but Henrietta Steiner was not so easily baulked. 'I didn't mean that, and you know it! It's high time you settled down and set about producing a son to carry on the family firm.' 'My dear good aunt,' said Dieter with forced patience, 'even if I were to consider marrying for such an addle- brained reason—and it's the last thought in my mind!— there's no guarantee that any son I might have would be interested in following in my footsteps. In fact, haven't you realised that ever since the firm was founded alternate generations have loathed the place? My father and my greatgrandfather, that is. In any case, Steiner Maschinenfabrik has an excellent board of directors who could carry on the firm without the least bother even if I were to expire tomorrow, and I see no reason why that situation should change.' 'But it wouldn't be the same at all. There wouldn't be a Steiner in it,' his aunt argued. 'For heaven's sake, it's only an engineering firm, not a monarchy! Admittedly I should rather like to think that my descendants would keep the firm going, but I won't die of a broken heart if they don't. And as for the idea of marrying for the sole purpose of producing an heir, I can think of few worse reasons for taking such a momentous step. Marriage is for life—it needs more consideration than the mating of a couple of dogs for the sake of producing pups. How you, of all people, could suggest it amazes me —when Father, your own only brother, married for such a reason and spent the rest of his life regretting it.' 'He got the son to carry on,' she pointed out triumphantly. 'At the cost of an unhappy marriage!' he retorted acidly. 'I'm glad to know you're prepared to sacrifice my happiness in such a good cause!

And now, if you have quite finished arranging my life for me, it's time we were gone. Come on, Judith.' So saying he stalked off down the steps, and Judith, after one halfapologetic glance at his aunt, followed him down and across the chalet lawns towards the lake. She was at a loss to understand why Fraulein Steiner, far from looking abashed at his sharp tones, had favoured her with a broad wink. The motor launch was tied up at the jetty, and Judith reflected that he must have been up very early indeed to have taken it out of the boathouse before going to church. Normally she might have commented on the fact, but his expression as he handed her in was rather grim, and his back was stiff with outraged reserve as he headed the launch in a wide sweep across the lake. 'Where are we going?' she plucked up the courage to ask. Visibly he relaxed and banished the argument from his mind. 'You see the Niesen, the almost perfectly pyramid- shaped mountain across the lake? The village on the promontory at its foot is Spiez; we'll leave the boat there, and take a train up the Kandertal, the valley on the left of the Niesen. Further up the valley divides into three; the main Kandertal is the middle one, and we'll leave the train there and walk up and over the ridge and down into the Kiental, where we can get back to Spiez by post-bus and train. On our way we'll climb to the top of the Sattelhorn, which is just under two thousand four hundred metres high —that's nearly seven thousand eight hundred feet above sea level. So you'll truly be able to say you have climbed an Alp, even if only a little one.' 'It sounds very high to me,' objected Judith doubtfully. 'Nonsense. A mountain is barely a mountain to a Swiss unless it's what we call a viertausender—over four thousand metres high, which is rather more than thirteen thousand feet. And seeing the

valley where we start walking is already about three thousand feet up, it isn't so much of a climb as it sounds at first. Hold on, Judy, I'll have to go at full speed. If we don't reach the harbour before that lake steamer, we'll miss the bus that connects with it and goes up to the railway station—and if we miss that we'll miss the train.'Luckily the launch had a good turn of speed and they made their connections with minutes to spare. The Kandertal, in any circumstances, would be considered a beautiful valley, Judith thought as the train climbed steadily, and she found it doubly so because her senses were sharpened to new heights by the presence of Dieter, sitting so closely beside her and naming for her all the villages and surrounding peaks. They alighted from the train at Blausee-Mitholz, a charming flower-decked station built chalet-style, but instead of walking downhill to the popular tourist attraction of the Blue Lake they strolled through the village of Mitholz and then turned up a narrow, winding and steep forest path. They spoke little, mainly perhaps because there was not room to walk together; Dieter led the way, turning now and then to offer a helping hand up the steepest parts. Even when the forest petered out to high alpine pasture, dotted idyllically with huts and grazing cattle whose distant cowbells tinkled musically, Judith made no attempt to break the silence. She was content just to walk at his side, breathing in the fresh pine-scented air and feasting her eyes on the chain of snow-clad high alps towering above them to the south. And, most of all, revelling in the joy of being alone with him far from civilisation and with the prospect of several such hours before her. As they climbed higher so did the sun, surprisingly hot for the time of year, and Judith rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. She also hastily fastened the top two buttons which had somehow worked loose as she walked, glancing sideways at Dieter to see if he had noticed. He was climbing tirelessly on, speaking only occasionally, perhaps pointing out a chamois or two on the rocks above them, and Judith's replies were also necessarily brief, for the simple reason that she was

finding herself extremely short of breath. When he suggested a short rest by the side of a gurgling stream she flopped down on to the grass with a readiness that made him smile down at her with an air of faintly mocking amusement. 'I must be out of condition,' she grinned defensively. 'At home I wander about the moors all day without thinking anything of it.' He slid the pack off his back and seated himself beside her. 'Just because you're still walking on grass, not climbing over rocks and snow, don't underestimate our mountains. This pasture is steeper than it looks and in addition the altitude will be affecting you; the air is considerably thinner at this height. Even if you were a real mountaineer, setting out to climb one of those snow-clad giants yonder, you wouldn't leave from the valley and go up in one day; you'd spend the night at least seven or eight thousand feet to get acclimatised.' He glanced at his watch. 'It's nearly half past eleven. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling peckish; if we go on for about another half-hour, over the stream and up among the rocks, there's a good sheltered place where we can eat on a rock shaped a bit like a seat. Then after lunch we'll continue to the. top of the Sattelhorn— that's it just to the north—then down the other side and head for Kiental village. It's further than the way we've come, but I know of a cable lift that will take us down the steepest stretch. It isn't a tourist line, just a private one belonging to one of the villages in the valley, and used mainly by the senner—the men who come up on to the high pastures with the cows in summer. They use the lift to bring up their equipment—and even the cows—and to take down the milk; but anyone can ring the bell and use it on the payment of a small sum towards the upkeep. It's very spartan, I'm afraid, a bit like the back of a lorry suspended on wires, and I warn you it smells rather of cows!' 'By then I probably won't care how it smells as long as it carries me,' grinned Judith as she stood up and massaged her aching leg muscles. 'Lead on, then, to this lunchtime haven. How do we cross the stream?'

'Just wade through. Here, I'll take your bag.' So saying he lifted the rucksack and Judith's shoulder bag and strode easily through the water. It was very shallows nowhere near reaching the top of his thick-soled mountain boots, and his long legs crossed it in a couple of strides; but Judith, looking down ruefully at her new shoes, hesitated to follow. Several rocks jutted out of the water and she decided to use them as stepping stones, but a tentative foot on the first made it wobble so alarmingly that she drew back hastily. 'What's the matter?' called Dieter. 'It isn't deep.' 'No, but I don't want to get my shoes wet if I can avoid it,' she explained, 'it would mark the suede.' While she was trying to map out an alternative route he waded back and unceremoniously lifted her up into his arms. 'No,' she protested hastily, 'there's no need for that— I'm too heavy. Put me down—I'll wade across.' He made no reply but carefully picked his way across the stream with Judith clinging to him. Once on the other side he set her down gently, but did not immediately release her. Judith's pulses were racing at the close contact. 'A modern Sir Walter Raleigh!' she said lightly to cover her confusion, then glanced up just in time to see a rather odd expression—an intent, questioning expression—fade from his eyes, as though he had momentarily forgotten everything but that he was male and she female, and had been suddenly recalled to sanity by her flippant remark. She could not help wondering what would have happened if she had looked up before speaking, whether he would have tightened his arms round her and kissed her ... 'It was the best I could do, I don't carry a cloak,' he replied in a voice devoid of expression. On the other hand, she realised, the questioning look was more likely to have been because he had sensed her attraction to him and the withdrawal because he did not want to encourage it. Feeling almost sick with dismay, she picked up her bag and prepared to follow him,

schooling her expression into one of bright interest in the scenery, but he made no attempt to move away. On the contrary he was standing quite still, glancing occasionally towards her with an air of being undecided whether or not to say something. Please, no, she pleaded silently. If you've realised how I feel about you, the kindest thing to do is ignore it. Aloud she merely repeated, 'Lead the way!' in a voice tight with assumed jauntiness. He cleared his throat diffidently. 'Judith, I hope you don't mind me mentioning—your blouse is undone. It came open when I lifted you.' The colour flooding to her cheeks, she glanced down, then wordlessly refastened the top two buttons again. As the shirt had an open neck and the buttons were fairly widely spaced, the resultant gap had reached well towards her waist and afforded him an expansive view of bare flesh and lacy brassiere. Scarlet with confusion, she followed as he set off once more up the mountainside. By the time they reached the rocks where he had decided to have lunch she had regained her composure, though she refused his offer of a helping hand and scrambled up by herself. Unfortunately the 'seat' rock was a little small for the two of them and they had to sit quite close together, but she was in sufficient control of herself now to ignore the fact and eat her way steadily through Anni's packed lunch. The view was magnificent, from the snow-covered summits of the Blumlisalp and Doldenhorn right down the valley far below with the thin silver ribbon that marked the path of the Kander river. Distant cowbells tinkled, birds sang cheerily; if only I could stay here for ever, she thought dreamily. If only he loved me ... She leaned back against the rock and closed her eyes. It was a muddle, as dreams always are. She was in the factory, crawling out from beneath a machine, and Dieter was watching her; she was driving along in the Citroen with him at her side; she was held in his arms after hitting her head. But all with one vital difference;-instead of his normal cool glance his grey eyes were

alight with love for her. They were walking up through the woods, but with arms round each other on a path which had miraculously grown wide enough to accommodate the two of them. He was lifting her over the stream, but as he set her down he was pulling her close to him and kissing her with passionate abandon ... Judith awoke to the realisation that she was not entirely dreaming. Her pulses were indeed racing, strong arms were tightly around her and lips pressed firmly to hers. His eyes were closed, but as though suddenly aware of her consciousness the fair lashes swept up and he lifted his head away rather self-consciously. 'Sleeping Beauty awakes,' he murmured, and, releasing her, stood up. Judith could only blink and stare up at him wide-eyed. 'You've been asleep a long time,' he went on. 'You were nodding off rather uncomfortably against the rock, and when I put my arm around you and pulled you against me you snuggled in and went sound asleep. It must be the effect of the fresh air after all your disturbed nights this past week. But reluctant though I was to disturb you, we'll have to move on; the cable-lift won't be attended once they've taken the milk down, and if we miss that we'll probably miss the last post-bus. Not to mention the fact that it would be dangerous to attempt to descend the last, steepest part after dusk. Are you awake enough to move?' 'Of course,' agreed Judith blithely. She felt soft, responsive, as though her veins flowed with liquid honey. He had kissed her! Even if it had only been a momentary impulse, even if he had thought she was asleep and wouldn't know —he had kissed her, and aching limbs were things of no importance. One more kiss like that and she would take wing down to the valley ... 'Of course,' she repeated gaily. 'Let's go.' She stood up, hastily refastened the shirt buttons which had somehow worked loose again, and prepared to follow him wherever he chose to lead.

The next few hours were the happiest Judith could ever remember. As they scrambled towards the top of the Sattelhorn she did not refuse Dieter's helping hand, and to her delight he made no attempt to release hers while they studied the wide panorama at the summit. To the south lay the snow-clad High Alps, to the west the Kandertal from which they had climbed, to the north a narrow, dangerouslooking footpath along the crest of the ridge; and to the east the mountainside fell away sharply over rock and scree to a plateau of high pastureland, then more sharply still through forests to the valley of the Kiene far below. Judith was surprised to see heavy black clouds over the mountains at the other side of the valley, and Dieter grimaced. 'So much for the weather forecast! Unless I'm much mistaken, they're heading our way. We may just make it to the cable-lift before we get soaking wet; we should be there in a couple of hours. You can see the top station from here—look, those two small buildings at the very edge of the plateau, away to the north-east—but don't let that deceive you into thinking it isn't far. They're a good four miles, and over this sort of terrain that's a long way.' It seemed he was right, as they picked their way down, because even after they had been walking for some time the huts appeared no nearer. The clouds did, though—and Judith, looking up at them instead of where she was walking, slipped and fell heavily. The result was torn jeans, a fit of the shakes and a badly grazed knee. Even that, though extremely painful, could not dampen her spirits entirely— Dieter was all attentive concern, and applied antiseptic and a bandage from the small first aid box in his rucksack. 'How does that feel?' he asked as he gave .the knot of the bandage a final testing pull. Judith, who had been staring dreamily at the fair head bent over her knee and wishing she dared reach out a hand to touch it, started. 'Fine, thanks,' she stammered. 'You seem to have made a very good job of it.'

'I took a first aid course; it's a handy thing to know in a factory where some damn fool is always spraining a wrist trying to hold up a machine!' It seemed to take a very long time to reach the plateau; the fall had delayed them, as had the consequent stiffness of her leg. The first heavy drops fell while they were still some distance from the huts, and they stopped to put on their macs. Dieter seemed quiet and preoccupied; Judith, knowing that but for her carelessness they would have reached shelter, felt guilty. 'You look worried. Does it really matter if we get a little wet?' 'Not a great deal, though it won't be comfortable; even using the lift we have a fair walk once we reach the valley. No, there's something else troubling me, I'm afraid. No cows.' Blankly she looked around her. It was true, since they had crossed the ridge there had been no sign of a cow, but although she loved to see and hear them she couldn't understand why the lack should worry him. 'No cows—no herdsmen,' he elaborated cryptically. 'Oh!' Light suddenly dawned, and Judith looked at him in dismay. 'You mean, no herdsmen, no cable-lift?' 'Precisely,' he replied grimly. 'Every time I have been here in the past there have been cows on this alp. It seems rather early in the year to have taken them down to the valley, but whatever the reason they are not here; and if the herd isn't here I don't suppose anyone will bother to man the lift. We'll try ringing the bell, just in case someone is on duty, but I doubt it;' No wonder he looked grim, she thought in dismay as she limped alongside him towards the two wooden huts. The rain was heavy, the

light—though it was barely six o'clock —far from good. The valley, when it could be seen through the swirling clouds, seemed a very long way down, the slope towards it very precipitous; her knee was stinging, throbbing and stiffening all at the same time, and heaven alone knew how long it would take them to get home. As they neared the huts Judith could see that one of them was a simple three-walled structure covering the wheel around which ran the heavy cable; the other, scarcely less primitive, was a rough-hewn chalet used by the senner or herdsmen while they spent the summer up with the cattle. They darted into the shelter of the lift hut, shaking the worst of the wet off themselves, with Judith wondering irritably why rain always ran down the strings of rainhats and dropped relentlessly down one's neck. Dieter rang the bell, several times, then looked at Judith with a resigned shrug. 'As I thought—no reply.' He glanced up at the cable suddenly, his eyes narrowing, then strode to the edge and peered down into the valley. 'It's difficult to see,' he added heavily, 'but I think the lift is out of use—the cable looks slack. Perhaps it's being repaired; that would explain why the cattle have gone down to the valley so soon. You realise what this means?' 'We'd better start walking down, I suppose,' said Judith dismally. 'You must be joking! The paths will be treacherously slippery after all this rain, and look how the clouds have closed in; we wouldn't be able to see more than a few feet in front of us. One of the first rules of mountaineering is, if you can't see, you don't move. So I'm afraid we'll have to stay here until morning.' 'Here?' Judith looked around apprehensively, shivering. There was a roof, certainly, but only three walls, the wall- less side facing the valley was open to the- direction from which the wind was blowing. It might just be possible to keep dry right against the back wall, but it would certainly be cold and damp.

'Not here, precisely—next door in the sennhuet. It'll be rough, but better than this. The door has probably been left open; if not, I'll have to break in and apologise afterwards.' Luckily the door had been left trustingly unlocked. It was dark, because there were no glazed windows, only open spaces which were now closed by shutters, but Dieter discovered an oil lamp by the door and lit it. The accommodation was indeed primitive—a single room containing only a bed, a cupboard, a table and two chairs, and those crudely made. 'Not exactly up to Hilton standard,' admitted Dieter philosophically, 'but at least it'll be warm enough when I get the fire going and I shall be very surprised if you don't find food of some sort in that cupboard.' There was; some very old and dry bread, strongsmelling cheese, creamy butter kept cool in an earthenware dish, and a few withered apples. Luckily the modern world had not entirely passed the senner by and there were also some tins of soup and an opener, so after the fire was lit they would be able to heat some of the soup and soak the dry bread in it. Judith's eyes brightened at the thought. The chill damp of the clouds had caught at her chest, and she was uncomfortably aware of a sore throat, a general feeling of lassitude and a desire to shiver non-stop. Yet in spite of this she felt happy; it was an unexpected bonus, that her time alone with Dieter should be extended by fate to the next morning. No amount of discomfort could dispel the feeling of excitement induced by the thought of spending so many hours in such intimate circumstances; surely, if he felt anything for her at all, he would be unable to conceal it, surely even his iron self-control must slip a little. Not that it showed any signs of so doing, she thought ruefully as he carefully built up logs in the crude fireplace and applied a match. His expression was tense, almost stern. He looked far from delighted at the thought of being stranded with her; no one would have thought that just a few short hours ago he had been unable to resist kissing

her. In fact, thought Judith, judging by his expression he was feeling all the qualms that anyone might have expected her to be feeling. Perhaps he was afraid she was going to take advantage of him, she thought almost hysterically, and set about opening a tin and cleaning out a pan ready to set on the fire. The soup was warming and satisfying, but Judith could not help thinking of the delicious dinner which would have awaited them when they returned. 'At the chalet—they'll be worried,' she realised suddenly. He nodded grimly. 'I'm afraid so. But there's nothing we can do about it; it would be suicidal to attempt the descent in bad visibility. The one thing I'm thankful for is that nobody asked where we were going, so they won't be able to call out the mountain rescue team. I'd have felt terrible at bringing them out for nothing but my own stupidity. I'm sorry, Judy: it's a fine mess I've got you into!' She had been half expecting him to blame her for the delay and hastened to reassure him. 'It wasn't your fault. You weren't to know the lift was out of use. And if I hadn't slept so long at lunchtime—and if I had watched where I was walking—we'd have had time to walk down.' 'I should never have tried to bring you so far.' He looked down uncomfortably, fidgeting with the cracked cup that was so far removed from his own elegant tableware. 'Judy —it's difficult to say this, but I don't want you to feel— I want you to know that—that you will be perfectly safe with me. I have no intention of making a nuisance of myself.' 'I never thought otherwise,' she replied in frank astonishment. 'I think I know you well enough by now to be sure that you would never treat a woman with anything but perfect politeness.'

'Dear me!' He grinned lopsidedly, the tension easing from his face. 'I wonder why it is that what I'm sure was intended as a compliment should manage to sound vaguely insulting! I can't quite make up my mind whether it makes me sound a pompous prig, or merely completely emasculate!' 'I didn't intend either,' she said quickly, and changed the subject. For a couple of hours they sat beside the fire, talking desultorily, then Dieter stood up and threw back the shutters of one of the windows. 'Good, I can see stars. The clouds have lifted,' he murmured. 'You mean—you want us to start walking down now?' asked Judith reluctantly; she was tired, her knee hurt, her throat was sore, her bones ached, and at the same time she was wrapped in a cosy state of mental euphoria induced by his presence, despite the air of wary reserve. 'Good heavens no, I explained that before. We're stuck here for the night—but if the cloud cover hadn't lifted it might have been for several days,' he pointed out. 'I don't think we'd better hang around in the morning hoping the lift will start up; we'll start to walk down as soon as it's light enough, if your knee will permit. The sooner we get to the valley the sooner we can ring home and put them all out of their misery. In which case, even though it's only nine o'clock, I think we should try to get some sleep. We'd better shake out the blankets and air them a bit first; but I'd still advise sleeping fully clothed—and I won't guarantee the bed to be free of livestock either!' They took the rough blankets outside and shook them thoroughly, then draped them over the chairs in front of the fire to air. Strangely enough, up to that point it had never even occurred to Judith to wonder about the sleeping arrangements. There was only one bed; it was amply big enough for two persons, but she had not expected that he would take it for granted that they would share it, she had

expected him at least to ask if she would mind. She glanced at him curiously; he had withdrawn once more into a taciturn shell, and his expression as he turned the blankets was rather forbidding. As though aware of her gaze he looked across at her, then hastily averted his eyes. 'Your blouse is undone again,' he told her shortly, almost as though he suspected her of having opened it deliberately to tease him. 'Oh! Damn the thing!' she muttered furiously. 'The buttonholes seem too big for the buttons, and every time I do something strenuous it comes adrift!' He made no reply to that, but informed her coolly that if she required it there were primitive sanitary arrangements outside, at the back of the chalet. Primitive proved to be the word, and she hoped fervently that she would not need to revisit them. When she returned inside she found to her surprise that Dieter had pulled the two chairs together and ensconced himself in them, wrapped in one of the blankets. 'Bolt the door to prevent it blowing open,' he advised her. 'I've put the other blanket on the bed for you; I think it's sufficiently aired.' The chairs were wooden, with not a vestige of padding anywhere, and he looked far from comfortable. 'Aren't we going to share the bed?' she asked hesitantly. 'Nei,' he replied curtly. 'But... you look so uncomfortable. I mean, I don't mind. We're both fully dressed, and it's quite a wide bed ...' 'No,' he reiterated even more sharply. 'I don't think that would be a good idea. Get in, for goodness' sake, and let me turn out this lamp and go to sleep.'

Feeling as though he had slapped her in the face, she obeyed wordlessly; but though she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, for hours she lay rigidly awake. The humiliation of it! She could almost believe that he had thought she was trying to seduce him, in order to trap him into marriage. It could not be that he found her repulsive; on the contrary, he had more than once—and the latest only at lunchtime—proved the opposite: but the attraction obviously was not strong enough to tempt him into a position where he might commit himself too deeply, and so not content with making it clear that he had no intention of taking advantage of the situation he had also been scrupulously careful not to touch her at all since they entered the hut, and to show by his manner that he considered the whole business a terrible nuisance and a waste of time. She could hear him moving restlessly; evidently he was as sleepless as she was, but still determined in spite of acute discomfort to keep his distance from her. To add to her humiliation, she knew that it was not just concern for his welfare that made her wish he was lying beside her; she wanted him there for her own sake, she wanted to feel his warmth close to her, to go to sleep in the shelter of his arms. Even— yes, admit it, you hypocrite, she told herself bitterly—at the risk of betraying just how much she loved him, and the natural consequences that might follow. So much for her secretly-prized purity; in deep despair she knew that if he had wanted her she would have found it very difficult to refuse. She should be grateful that she was not put to the test—but she wasn't, only miserable. When the cold grey light of dawn filtered around the door Dieter rose, threw open the shutters and began to prepare coffee. Judith lay still for a while, reluctant to face him. She felt distinctly unwell—the result, she told herself firmly, of deep disappointment and bitter frustration at his complete indifference to her. Eventually she felt she could delay no longer and stiffly forced her aching limbs out of the bed. They ate the remains of Anni's packed lunch and drank the bitter ersatz coffee in a constrained silence. Judith knew from her small

make-up mirror that the lack of sleep showed in dark circles under eyes that looked dull and heavy, while Dieter's normal immaculate air had likewise given way to a rather haggard look, intensified by the shadow of red-gold bristle on his chin. Partly out of unhappiness and partly because of the sore throat Judith spoke as little as possible as they cleared away and prepared to set off on their walk, and Dieter's silence matched hers until he paused in the doorway, his broad figure outlined in strong sunshine, and asked her if her knee needed a new bandage before they started. If her knee had been dropping off Judith wouldn't have admitted it. 'No, it's fine,' she said huskily, avoiding his eye by rummaging through her bag as though checking she had left nothing behind. Instead of taking the hint and moving away he remained in the doorway. 'Judith,' he said diffidently, 'before we set off, I wonder if you have realised—if you are prepared for the fact that when we get home we are likely to be on the receiving end of a fair amount of comment about this episode? Some of it, I'm afraid, is likely to be unkind, and possibly some extremely ribald.' She realised the truth of this, and the thought that people would believe the worst when all had been so sublimely, so scrupulously innocent, triggered off a surge of indignant bitterness. 'Oh, don't worry about that,' she said in a voice that was unintentionally razorsharp. 'I can swear hand on heart that you never laid a finger on me all night!' As soon as the words left her lips she realised she had given herself away. Dieter looked at her with an air of puzzled calculation, a hint of anger in his eyes. 'You sound almost disappointed,' he murmured slowly. Judith's colour rose. 'You flatter yourself! Why on earth should I be disappointed?' she blustered unconvincingly.

'I don't know. I had not thought you were the type of girl to indulge in casual affairs; was I wrong?' he demanded bluntly. 'Certainly not!' She made to go past him out of the hut, but he shot an arm across the doorway and barred the way. 'Then why the annoyance? Can it be that you're upset because I didn't try to make love to you? How like a woman!' he laughed mirthlessly. 'If I had made advances you would have said "no" in any case, but you take umbrage because I didn't give you the perverted pleasure of repulsing me with virtuous indignation!' 'No!' she snapped out, her eyes flashing, but there was just sufficient truth in his statement for her to be unable to meet his gaze for long. 'Please let me pass,' she muttered in the direction of his collar. His arm dropped from the doorway, but only to seize her by the chin and force her to look up at him. 'Or was it that you were upset because you thought I didn't find you attractive enough?' Involuntarily Judith flinched, and after a moment of scrutiny he gave a laugh of delighted discovery. 'You little fool! I knew you weren't the flighty type, that you would regret it if we allowed our feelings to master us; I told you I had no intention of taking advantage of the situation, but you know what the road to hell is paved with ... If once I had lain beside you on that bed no power on earth could have kept me away from you. My self- control is pretty good, but not unbreakable. You stupid little idiot!' And with that tender endearment he pulled her towards him, straining her body to his with arms that threatened to crush every rib, and kissed her with a thoroughness that alternately thrilled and almost frightened her with its intensity. It was a kiss of passion that had been forcibly controlled suddenly set free, and after a few moments of restraint she gave a little moan and pressed herself against him,

giving back kiss for kiss with an abandon of which she would never have believed herself capable. Her response seemed to have a galvanising effect: a tremor ran through him, his heart thudded against her breast, the fingers of one hand tangled painfully in her hair: 'Oh, Judy, Judy!' he groaned, his lips moving over her face, down the column of her throat, then lower still to where the buttons had once more come undone ... The scratching of bristles from his unshaven jaw against the tender skin roused her to a realisation of what was happening and instinctively she moved protestingly away, attempting with trembling fingers to fasten her shirt once more. Gently but firmly his hands closed over hers and forced them down, then with a devilish glint in his eyes he bent down and deliberately pressed his lips against the curve of her breast before carefully refastening the buttons for her. 'Dear me,' he said wickedly, 'now you can't claim I never laid a finger on you.' 'Yes, I can,' she corrected him huskily, leaning back against the doorway because her knees threatened to give way. 'It wasn't your finger—and anyway,' she insisted, ignoring his delighted shout of laughter, 'it's morning now. So I can still claim truthfully that you never touched me all night.' He gave a deep chuckle. 'I can just imagine how convincing it'll be, when you blush from head to toe as you say it! Come on, start walking down the path or I'll shut the door and claim the clouds are too thick for us to move!' With a startled glance up at the cloudless sky, Judith smiled shyly and set off towards the valley.

CHAPTER TEN IT was well into the morning by the time the launch arrived at the chalet jetty. Though by now feeling very far from well and almost certain she had caught a chill, Judith was nevertheless quietly happy. Admittedly Dieter had not committed himself in words; but surely a man of his reserve would not have kissed her the way he had if he didn't love her? He had not spoken much since they left the sennhuet, but then he was rarely talkative; and the knowledge that he had caused his sister and his aunt a night of worry, and missed at least half a day from his office—which she knew was practically unheardof-—obviously made him slightly preoccupied. He had phoned home as soon as they reached the valley, so it was no surprise that Tante Hetta and Verena should be watching for them from the chalet balcony. What was surprising—and as far at least as Judith was concerned, dismaying—was that three other people awaited them there, the Leissinger twins and an older man who proved to be their father. It was a rather more public return from their night in the mountains than Judith could have wished, or Dieter either, judging by his grim expression as they mounted the stairs. Vreni and Tante Hetta hugged both of them warmly, laughing and almost crying in their relief. 'Really, Dieter, I should have thought you would have known better than to be caught out like that!' his aunt scolded. 'Someone new to the mountains, like Judith, can be excused, but how on earth did you come to make such a drastic misjudgment? You have been walking in the mountains almost since you could toddle, and I've never known you to be stranded before.' 'Come, Fraulein Steiner, don't be so naive,' grinned Rudi Leissinger impishly. 'The circumstances were different this time—he had a companion. I'm sure if I were to go walking with an attractive young

lady I could manage to strand us for the night with no difficulty at all!' 'I've no doubt you would,' replied Dieter stiffly, 'but in this case it was entirely an accident. What are you doing here, anyway? How come you're not at work today?' Rudi waved a languid hand. 'Selling stationery is such a dreary affair; I had a row with the manager last week and walked out. So, having a little free time while I'm looking around for something more interesting, I -thought I would accompany Trudi and Father to visit Verena. But nobody wants to hear about my affairs, when something so much more interesting is at hand. Come on, tell us all—where exactly did you manage to—er—accidentally, of course, strand yourselves?' Brusquely Dieter explained, while Judith, her colour still a little high from Rudi's insinuations, sank wearily into a chair. 'So, as soon as I realised the lift was out of use,' he finished, 'I realised we'd have to spend the night up on the plateau. It would have been suicidal to attempt the forest path in the dark.' 'But how on earth did you come to leave it so late to get to the lift?' inquired Verena curiously. 'You know how unreliable these private lines are, Dieter.' 'That was my fault,' Judith broke in hastily. 'Like a clumsy idiot I fell, and it slowed us down terribly.' Trudi's dark-pencilled brows arched highly over her wide cat-like eyes. 'Oh no, Fraulein, not that hoary old trick!' she laughed shrilly. 'Don't tell me you expected Dieter to fall for the sprained ankle routine!'

Judith was taken aback by the look of fierce dislike in the green eyes. Naturally Trudi would think that the whole thing had been engineered by Judith; would think it because it was the sort of thing she would do herself given the chance ... 'It wasn't a sprained ankle. I cut my knee,' she replied quietly, pointing to where the bandage showed through the jagged tear in her jeans. Tante Hetta was all flustered concern. 'My poor child, I didn't see that you were hurt! Come away and let me have a look at it. You can't take any chances with these things; if any dirt has been left in the wound the consequences could be serious.' Judith shook her head. 'I'm sure there isn't. We examined it very closely—Dieter has done a first aid course, you know, and he made a very thorough job of it.' 'I'll bet he did!' chortled Rudi irrepressibly. 'I wish girls would ask me to examine their legs closely! If one did, I'm quite sure I wouldn't get home that night either!' 'Rudolf, you are a wicked boy!' scolded Tante Hetta. 'Obviously it was an accident. Nobody is going voluntarily to spend a night in the freezing cold on a bare mountainside—oh, Anni, how sensible of you! I should have thought of it myself—hot drinks for the pair of them! No, I know you don't like hot chocolate, Dieter, but stop making that face and drink it down. It's good for you, especially after a night spent in the open. It's a wonder you aren't both suffering from exposure!' Dieter grimaced again but dutifully took a sip or two. 'I doubt if that's likely, Tante. Didn't I make it clear? We didn't have to spend the night actually out in the open, we managed to take shelter in a sennhuet.'

To Judith's surprise, instead of being reassured by this, Tante Hetta looked aghast, and even old Herr Leissinger who had been sitting quietly minding his own business sat up and took notice. The silence was almost electric as she said accusingly, 'Do you mean to tell me you spent the night—the two of you, alone—in a schali?' 'What else could we do?' demanded Dieter impatiently. 'Did you seriously expect us—or even just me—to freeze to death outside when shelter was available, just for the sake of convention? As to being alone, there wasn't much we could do about it. Not another living creature was in sight, not even a mountain goat. What difference does it make anyway?' 'But Dieter, surely you can see the difference! It's bad enough that you and Judith had to spend the night together at all—but whereas people would have sympathised with your plight if you had spent the night outdoors, if they find out you passed it in comfort the tongues will certainly wag. Oh dear, whatever will people say?' 'Probably precisely what they would have said in any case!' he retorted irritably. 'I can't say I noticed Rudi showing any restraint when he thought we had slept in the open. As to comfort—just try sleeping in a sennhuet some time; I can't say I recommend it. I assure you that if I had any intention of seducing anyone I would choose somewhere rather less spartan and particularly not reeking of cows! Honestly, Tante Hetta, anyone would think you would rather we had risked pneumonia!' A babble of conversation arose. Verena was loyally protesting that of course they were right to take shelter, Rudi apologising rather tongue-in-cheek for his teasing, and Henrietta Steiner appealing to Herr Leissinger to back her up. Of the party only the two concerned and Trudi were silent, the latter's eyes sparking with fury as her father cleared his throat and muttered in embarrassment, 'Your aunt's quite right, you know, my boy. It does make a difference. I'm afraid

there'll be something of a scandal if it gets about—and these things always seem to get about somehow.' 'You'll neither of you have a shred of reputation left!' proclaimed Tante Hetta dramatically. 'There's only one thing to do—you'll have to marry Judith. If we see to it now, the announcement of your engagement will appear in tomorrow's papers.' Her words created a silence that was almost tangible. It was broken finally by the shrill tones of Trudi, protesting swiftly, 'Nonsense, Fraulein Steiner. That can't be necessary ! Such a thing wouldn't hurt Dieter's reputation, and it doesn't matter about Fraulein Carter. I mean,' she finished defensively as all eyes turned on her in astonishment at the callousness of her words, 'she won't be here, will she? She'll be back where she belongs.' 'Whether or not Judith will be here is immaterial,' interrupted Dieter forcefully. 'My dear good aunt, don't think I don't appreciate all you have done for me in the past; but will you please stop trying to interfere in my life? I have no intention of marrying anyone for such a frivolous reason. If you feel that Judith's reputation has been ruined, then I'm very sorry; but I fail to see how hurriedly marrying her would retrieve it. It certainly wouldn't still the busy ' tongues; far from it, it would be more likely to cause raised brows and speculation as to what had occurred that necessitated so hasty a wedding. I'm telling you here and now, and I'll repeat it to anybody who cares to listen, that we have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing improper happened last night in the schali; we spent the night on opposite sides of the room, fully clothed. The decencies could hardly have been more carefully observed if a chaperone had been present. The entire episode was completely unavoidable, and I have no intention of being pushed into marriage for such an idiotic and illogical reason!' Judith had been listening to all this with a steadily mounting fury. Anyone would think she was pressuring him to make an honest

woman of her! All right, she had been indulging in wishful thinking, she realised grimly; he was not in love with her, he was not even attracted beyond the extent of a few kisses—but was there any need to humiliate her so utterly, so brutally, in front of everyone? And especially in front of the maliciously triumphant Trudi? Unsteadily she stood up, her eyes blazing almost as green as the Leissingers', her voice husky with rage. She all but stamped her foot in fury as she faced the assembled company. 'Will you all kindly stop talking over my head as though I were a half-wit?' she demanded fiercely. 'I don't seem to remember anyone consulting my opinion as to this proposed marriage! Do I have no say in the matter? Let's stop mincing words and put it bluntly—Dieter did not make love to me, there is no earthly reason why we should marry, and even if there were I wouldn't marry him if it was a choice of that or starvation! If ever I decide to give up an interesting and well-paid career to marry a man, it will be for someone I can love, someone made of warm flesh and blood, not a cold, calculating, selfopinionated, arrogant machine!'Knowing that at any minute her fury was going to dissolve into tears she turned her back on them and stalked inside the chalet, then dragged her aching limbs up the stairs to her room, where she was free to vent her fury in an outburst that bordered on the hysterical.

When Judith made no appearance at lunchtime Fraulein Steiner went up to her room and knocked on the door. Receiving no reply, she gently opened it and peered in, then with an exclamation entered and crossed to the bed. Judith was lying sprawled on top, fully clothed, asleep but tossing restlessly. She awoke as Tante Hetta laid a testing hand on her forehead and struggled to rise, but the room whirled around and she fell back to the pillow. 'I'm sorry,' she croaked, 'I must have dozed off. I'll get up in a moment.'

'You, my child, are not getting up at all,' retorted Tante. Hetta firmly. 'I'll call Anni to give me a hand to get you into bed properly. Why ever didn't you tell us you were ill?' 'It's nothing to make a fuss about,' protested Judith, thankful nevertheless that a firm hand was preventing her from making the effort of rising. 'Just a bit of a chill.' 'A bit of a chill?' the Swiss woman retorted. 'I have news for you, young woman. That's no chill—unless I'm very much mistaken, you have caught Verena's 'flu!' She was proved right. The doctor was called, but by evening Judith was extremely feverish and barely conscious. The effect of a mountain rainstorm on a body already in the early stages of influenza had proved disastrous, and the doctor began to look doubtful and talk of the possibility of pneumonia following. Afterwards Judith could remember little of those days. She was vaguely aware of the doctor, Tante Hetta and Anni tending her, but otherwise she scarcely knew when she was awake and when dreaming. At times she thought her parents were there, though she knew this could not be so, and at times she had the impression that Dieter was keeping vigil by her bed, although she knew that was almost as unlikely. By Thursday, when she was recovered enough to be completely sensible although still feeling terrible and aching from little finger to big toe, the only people she saw were the two elderly Swiss women. Verena had been banned from the sickroom, they explained, in case she caught the 'flu again while she was still barely recovered from the last dose; she had gone to stay with friends in Zurich, and Dieter had taken her there on his way to the Schaffhaussen factory, to which he had been called to attempt to settle a labour dispute.

On the Saturday Judith awoke feeling suddenly better. The aches had almost vanished, the sore throat and feverish feeling were gone. She beamed at Tante Hetta when the latter brought her breakfast tray, and announced her intention of getting up for a while; an argument ensued, with the older woman insisting that she could not possibly be fit enough, but the ringing of the telephone put a stop to it and Judith ate her food with gusto for the first time all week. When Hetta Steiner entered the room again she appeared to have had second thoughts. 'Perhaps, if you're feeling so much better, it would do you good to sit out on the balcony for a while,' she suggested with an air of suppressed amusement, almost excitement. She helped Judith out of bed and settled her at the washbasin with a chair as her legs were too weak to support her for more than a minute or two; brushed her hair for her, and made sure she was warmly dressed before calling Anni to help her down the stairs. 'It's ridiculous,' gasped Judith as she collapsed thankfully on to the settee. 'I feel as fit as a fiddle, but my legs just won't obey. They feel as though they're made of india-rubber.' Tante Hetta merely smiled, pulled up a footstool for her feet and covered her with a rug. 'There, you can watch the lake. Quite a few sailing yachts out today, considering the tourist season's virtually over; but then it's such a nice day, isn't it, sunny and warm and with just enough of a breeze out on the lake to keep them moving. Now, are you quite comfortable? You have something to read? Then if there's nothing more you need, Judith, would you mind being left alone for a while? The food stocks have run right down because Anni has been tied to the schali for the past fortnight, and I told my chauffeur to call this morning and take her shopping. She has such a lot to get, I think it would be a good idea if I went with her to help, if you're sure you'll be all right. We'll leave you a flask of coffee, and you shouldn't be alone for long, only until Di -the shopping is done.'

'Of course I'll be all right, Fraulein Steiner,' said Judith reassuringly, though privately a little surprised that the woman who a short while ago was protesting that she was too ill to get out of bed was now proposing to leave her entirely on her own. 'For heaven's sake call me Tante Hetta, child, you're almost one of the family now. Keep yourself wrapped up —and don't worry, you won't be alone for long.' One of the family! thought Judith ruefully when they had gone. She must be joking. Verena might perhaps miss her a little when she went back to England, but she was under no illusions that Dieter would do so. He would probably merely feel thankful to be rid of her, an argumentative female whose presence obviously disturbed him more than he found agreeable. The vehemence with which he had declared that in no circumstances would he marry her! He was due to return from Schaffhausen that evening, and remembering their last meeting with a sick feeling of dismay Judith wondered dismally how she was going to find the courage to face him. She was startled by the sound of a car at the front of the chalet. Anni and Tante Hetta had certainly been quick with the shopping! Hastily she wiped away a self-pitying tear and turned with a bright smile as footsteps approached the balcony. Instantly the smile fell from her face, and the little colour that had been in her cheeks faded completely and then returned in force to leave her scarlet-faced. It was Dieter. He stood in the dining-room doorway with his head on one side, eyeing her appraisingly yet with an odd warm light in his eyes. 'Gruezi. You look better than when I saw you last—not that that is saying a great deal,' he added, approaching to stand before her. 'I—I thought you weren't coming back until this evening,' she faltered.

'I managed to settle the problem late last night and so I set off first thing this morning. Tante Hetta told me when I telephoned that you had made a sudden recovery, but I must say I'm surprised to see you looking so well. You look quite yourself again.' The old flippant Judith might have asked cheekily who she had been in the meantime, but the new model merely wondered apprehensively if he felt she had been swinging the lead. 'I'm sorry about the delay to the translation work.; she said unsteadily. 'My legs are still too waffly to go to the office, but if you would bring the papers and a portable typewriter I could finish it off here.' 'Heaven forbid! What do you think I am, a slavedriver?' he exclaimed indignantly. 'You have been ill, more ill even than Verena, and she is still far from recovered. You'll probably need at least another fortnight's convalescence. Don't worry about it, there's no hurry. I telexed your employer and explained—I had to do so when he sent an inquiry why he hadn't received your time-sheet—and when I did so I told him that we now had no translator of our own and asked if I could retain your services on general work for a while.' Though the thought of going away from him was unbearable, the prospect of having to remain in his company and not show her feelings for some undefined period was utterly impossible. A quick, clean break would be much better in the long run; panic seized her at the thought of such protracted agony, and she wailed, 'Oh no! I want to go home!' The smile died from his face and he looked at her searchingly. 'I thought you would be pleased. I thought you liked being here.' 'I did—I do—I—oh, I can't explain,' she said wretchedly, looking away from him in the hope that he had not seen the weak tears that had sprung to her eyes.

He sighed as though in relief, sat down beside her and taking her chin in one hand wiped away her tears. 'For a moment you had me worried!' he breathed softly, and her eyes flickered to his in surprise. He smiled at her and went on, 'For a moment I thought you meant it. But that's unlikely, isn't it—how could you possibly want to go back to England, away from me, when you love me?' Judith froze, then jerked herself away. How dared he tease her so! 'Me—love you?' she exploded, in no state to pay heed to grammar. 'What on earth gave you such a ridiculous idea?' 'You told me so.' 'I did? What nonsense! On the contrary, I seem to remember telling you the exact opposite, that I could never love a cold, calculating machine!' 'You've missed out "self-opinionated" and "arrogant",' he reminded her equably. 'Yes—self-opinionated and arrogant too!' she retorted, consciously whipping up her fury. 'I take none of it back. It was all true—and perhaps I should have said "vain" as well; only a vain man would calmly sit there telling a girl that she was in love with him! Just because Trudi and Vreni's friends fall for you by the dozen, you needn't think that I'm going to do so! Love isn't a hardy plant—it needs warmth to growth, and that's something you're singularly lacking. Nobody could love someone as cold as you!' 'That doesn't sound like my usual logical Judith,' he grinned broadly. 'First you say that dozens have fallen for me, then that nobody could! You're getting a little confused, my love—but I'll forgive you and put it down to your illness.'

'Oh!' Really furious now, Judith's eyes blazed at him. 'You are completely insufferable!' 'Jaa jaa,' he admitted smugly, laughter glinting in his eyes, 'but you love me in spite of it. You told me so— several times, when I was sitting by your bed.' 'When you were ...' Horror-stricken, Judith gazed at him. She had not been dreaming; he had watched over her when she was ill, and she had told him—had said—merciful heavens, what had she said? 'You can't take any notice of delirious ramblings,' she protested weakly. 'You weren't delirious, merely not fully in control of yourself. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me?' Defiantly she held his challenging gaze for a moment, but the lie would not come to her lips and finally she dropped her head into her hands in defeat. 'Oh, very well then,' she conceded bitterly. 'If you insist on the truth, I have been fool enough to fall in love with you. So what? Why drag it out of me? I know there's no future in it. Wouldn't it have been kinder to leave me alone to work out my own salvation? I hope you're satisfied now, I hope you feel happy now that you have humiliated me utterly! It's what you have wanted all along, isn't it? You never did care for the fact that a mere female was treating the almighty Herr Steiner as an equal!' In reply he gave a low laugh of triumph and pulled her close to him, forcing her face up to his. 'Judy, Judy, come off your soapbox! What's so humiliating about admitting that you are woman enough to fall in love?' Gradually the amusement in his eyes gave way to ardour, and she blinked, almost mesmerised as his lips drew nearer. 'Machine, indeed!' he muttered before kissing her with an urgency that left her breathless and gasping. 'Cold, did you say?' he murmured inquiringly as he pulled her back into an embrace that was at once so

tender and so ardent that the blood flowed through her veins with the speed of a mill- race. The emotion was too much for Judith in her weakened state and tears sprang to her eyes again. 'I'm a clumsy oaf!' he castigated himself, drying her tears once more and pulling her gently over until she was sitting in his lap, her head cradled against his shoulder. 'I know I should have waited until you were completely well again, but I just didn't have the patience. As soon as I could get away this morning I came hurrying home to make sure that it was a case of "in influenza Veritas". I love you so much, my Judy! Tell me you'll marry me— soon.' 'You said that in no circumstances would you marry me,' she reminded him in a muffled voice. 'Correction. I said that in no circumstances would I marry you just because we had been forced to spend a night together in the mountains; I won't have people saying I had to marry you. Oh damn, I suppose if you marry me fairly quickly they'll still say it! Never mind, we know that it isn't for any such idiotic reason, but because you've got under my skin to the point where I simply don't want to live without you any longer.' He buried his face in her hair, and murmured, 'I've wanted to ask you to marry me for some time, but I intended waiting until you had finished the contract—I didn't want to make things awkward for you. I wasn't sure if you loved me, and if you had refused it would have been embarrassing for both of us, living in the same house. But now that I know you do, I can't wait any longer—say you will, mys schaetzli!' Too overcome to answer him in words, Judith did what she had been longing to do for weeks: clasped her hands behind his neck and kissed him fervently, which answer he appeared to find eminently satisfactory. For some time they were lost to the world, emerging only when Henrietta Steiner strode out on to the balcony and stopped

dead at the sight of them. Dieter raised his head briefly and grinned at her. 'Liebe Tante, kindly go and do some more shopping,' he suggested laughingly. 'You haven't been half long enough!' Tante Hetta stifled a smile and pretended to glare at him. 'There's gratitude! Whose idea was it anyway? I was the one who suggested going out and leaving you a clear field, when you rang up this morning. Well, you two may find love enough to live on, but I'm going to have some lunch. Then if you ask me nicely I just might go shopping again this afternoon; I suppose I could always buy in the ingredients for a wedding cake ... No, of course, how silly of me, naturally Judith will want to be married from her own home. As for you, young woman, you needn't sit there grinning like that—what took you so long? Goodness knows, I've kept doing my best to push the pair of you together. I suppose the problem was getting him to take his mind off machines long enough ... I bet he has you walking under a triumphal arch of spanners when you get married! When is the wedding to be, by the way?' 'Woman, will you go away?' exploded Dieter. 'The poor girl hasn't had the chance to accept me yet, and she never will if you don't stop chattering!' 'All right, all right, I can take a subtle hint!' Laughing, Tante Hetta went back into the chalet. Dieter turned again to Judith, with a warm glow in his eyes and a rueful smile on his lips. 'I can't make you any pretty speeches, Judy; I'm an engineer, not a poet, and graceful words don't come easily to my tongue. But I do love you, very deeply, and I'll do my best to make you happy. Do you think you could put up with my bad temper, my preoccupation with machinery and. multitudinous other faults —not to mention my interfering relations—for the rest of your life?' 'Jaa jaa? she replied fervently.