Passport - Part Two by Virginia Hainsworth

June 1987. The Grand Hotel, Margitsziget, Budapest.

  James Fincham strode into the lobby and walked straight to the reception desk, mopping his brow with his handkerchief. He set his brown leather holdall on the floor beside him.

  The desk clerk looked up.

  “Szervusz, Mr Leadbetter. Good to see you. How can I help you?”

  James replied in flawless Hungarian.

  “Good morning, Ambrus. Please can you tell me if Miss Fodor is in her room.”

  “No, I believe she is in the lounge, sir.”

  “Thank you, Ambrus.”

  James ran his hand through his hair and walked over to the lounge area, towards a woman seated on an oversized sofa.

  As soon as she saw him walking towards her, she leapt up and moved towards him.

  “Henry, you’re late, darling. I feel as though I’ve been waiting for hours.”

  “I’m only five minutes late, Martuska. Come here.”

  He bent down to kiss her.

  “Not here, Henry. Everyone will see.”

  “I don’t care.”

  They sat down on the sofa and she grasped his hand.

  “Have you heard the news?” she said excitedly. “Grosz has taken over as premier. Kadar is sure to be booted out of the party before long.”

  “It’s about time. Things will happen quickly now. However, our celebrations will have to wait. I’m on my way to the airport. I’m sorry.”

  She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger to her lips.

  “I know. I really am sorry, but I have no choice. And I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  “I wondered what the holdall was for. Where is it this time?”

  Her exaggerated pout brought a smile to his lips.

  “You know I can’t tell you anything. Just that it’s important. I do have about half an hour, though, before I need to leave.”

  He put his hand on the outside of her thigh.

  “Let’s go to your room.”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “We can’t. I have just checked out. You’re not the only one who has secrets, darling.  Jozsef wants me to go to Martonvásár for a few days.To pick up a package.”

  “Be careful, Martuska. I don’t trust Jozsef.”

  Martuska’s gaze left James’ face and looked over his shoulder towards the hotel entrance.

  “Henry. Don’t look now but there’s a man over there. He followed you in just now and has been glancing over at us. I’m sure I saw him yesterday, too. When we were on Castle Hill. I think he might be following you.”

 “Impossible. I would have noticed. Describe him to me. I don’t want to look round.”

  “He’s about 5 Feet 10 inches. Medium build. Bit of a paunch. Moustache and beard.  Slightly greying hair. About 50-ish. Camel-coloured suit.”

  “I think you’re wrong, darling. Let’s not worry about him. Tell me more about Jozsef and this package he wants you to pick up, but just give me a couple of minutes. I need a pee.”

James stood up and walked towards the men’s room.

  When she was sure James was out of sight, Martuska leant over, unzipped his holdall and peered inside.

  She was so preoccupied with the small brown paper bag which lay on top of James’ clothes that she didn’t notice the camel-suited man follow James into the men’s room.

James was facing the urinal and didn’t turn around when the camel-suited man stood alongside him, but he muttered,

  “Don’t make it so fucking obvious, Stan. She’s onto you. Fortunately, she thinks you’re following me and not her. You’re losing your touch.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that, my friend.”

  Back in the lounge, Martuska had opened the brown paper bag and looked inside. Her brow furrowed. Blue woollen baby bootees? Henry had never mentioned knowing anyone with a baby.