Chapter 33
We got to the station early because Henry had been warned it would be busy and we were glad we did. It was packed with people everywhere we looked.
‘Right,’ I said before we went through the large entrance way. ‘We’re now Rhodri, Ada and Marta. Even when we think we’re alone.’
‘Fine,’ said Henry, in a slightly deeper voice than usual.
Lara looked at him. ‘Just speak normally, Rhodri,’ she said in her American accent, but quietly. ‘You’ll never keep that up. You too, Marta.’
I nodded. ‘Let’s go,’ I said.
Inside, the station concourse was bustling with passengers. And Nazis. I’d lived in Lisbon since before the war, and I was used to seeing Nazi soldiers and officers all over the place, but seeing so many, all together, was disconcerting.
‘They’re all going to Paris,’ said Henry in my ear. ‘The train will be full of Germans.’
My palms began to sweat as I looked around at the sea of grey and black uniforms. Would we stick out like sore thumbs?
Lara looped her arm through mine. ‘Marta, let’s go and find our seats,’ she said gaily. ‘Heavens, I’m glad we have our tickets already, just look at the chaos around the booking office.’
Sure enough, there were crowds of people swarming the ticket booths, both soldiers and civilians – most of them dressed in expensive clothes, brandishing money.
We skirted round the groups and headed towards the platform.
It was easy to know where our train was leaving from because it was the only one in the station.
Steam was already belching from the funnel.
It was hot and smoky and smelly, and every part of me wanted to spin round on the shoes I’d borrowed from Lara and run.
But I didn’t.
‘Stick together, everyone,’ I said, sounding to my own ears just like my games mistress from school. ‘We don’t want to get lost.’
There were several Portuguese ticket inspectors at the gate, all looking rather bored.
Though I could tell by the way their eyes kept flicking to the groups of Nazis that they were actually rather nervous.
As we paused to get our tickets out, I took the chance to scan the crowd.
I could see Lara and Henry doing the same and I was proud of them for being so alert.
‘Boa noite,’ I said to the ticket inspector. He barely glanced at us, just nicked our tickets with his little machine and waved us aboard.
‘We don’t have a cabin,’ said Henry. ‘There were none available. But the carriages should be quiet overnight, and we can find a little nook to settle in.’
He led the way – just as Rhodri would – and I felt that flicker of pride again. Towards the end of the platform, Henry stopped.
‘This looks good,’ he said. He opened the door and a porter darted forward and took our bags. If he was surprised by how light they were, he didn’t show it. We climbed up the stairs and Henry led the way into an empty compartment.
The porter lay down our bags and hovered. I raised an eyebrow at Henry, who realised what was expected and gave him some money.
‘Obrigado,’ he said, backing out of the carriage and sliding the door closed.
‘This is fancy,’ said Lara in Ada’s voice. She was so clever with characters, picking them up and wearing them like other people wore a coat. Whereas I felt edgy and uncomfortable in shoes that pinched my toes, and my wig itched.
‘The SudExpress was always the finest way to travel,’ said Henry. He looked at Lara. ‘Only the best for you, cariad.’
Lara blew him a kiss and took off her neat little jacket.
She and I were both wearing clothes she’d bought on our last undercover mission when she’d played the wife of an Austrian aristocrat.
She looked better in them than I did. She also looked like she was enjoying herself enormously, which she probably was.
We all sat down and got comfortable. I crossed my fingers, hoping no one else would come into our carriage.
‘Keep an eye on the corridor, could you?’ Henry said. ‘I just need to check …’
I stood up and went to the door. There were people around, but they were loading suitcases onto the train, or looking for seats, and no one was paying us any attention.
Henry began checking down the sides and backs of the benches in the compartment, looking for bugs or anything that could alert someone to our presence. But he found nothing.
I looked along the corridor to where a group of Nazi officers were filing into a compartment.
They don’t know you from Adam, I told myself.
They don’t care why you’re here or why you’re going to Paris.
As I watched, one of the officers glanced up and caught my eye.
He pulled his brows together in a little half-frown as if he recognised me but couldn’t place me, though he wasn’t familiar to me.
I held my breath, and his gaze, until he nodded at me.
Then forcing myself to retain my composure, I nodded back, giving him a small smile.
When the train finally clanked into life and began puffing out of the station, Henry looked delighted.
‘I love trains,’ he said. ‘Don’t you?’
Lara gazed at him in bafflement. ‘I can think of maybe fifty things I love more,’ she said in Ada’s dry drawl.
Henry tutted. ‘By the time we get to Paris you’ll have changed your mind,’ he said. ‘It’s the best way to travel.’
‘It would be if it wasn’t night-time,’ I said, trying to see out of the window but instead catching only my own reflection. I adjusted one of the curls on my wig, and turned back to Henry. ‘But I do rather like train travel. My erm …’
I paused. I had been about to say ‘my brother’ but in case anyone was listening, I used his name instead – after all, Ada was supposed to be my sister. ‘My Jamie was a proper railway buff. He used to say he wanted to be a train driver when he grew up. I suppose that’s why he chose to fly planes.’
Lara put her hand on top of mine and squeezed my fingers gently.
‘How about a game of cards?’ asked Henry.
‘Great,’ I said.
We played gin rummy for a while and chatted quietly. It was hard to resist discussing what we would do when we got to Paris, but as it turned out, Henry was quite the card shark and that distracted us for a good while.
As the night wore on, we crossed the border into Spain.
The train stopped and some Spanish guards climbed aboard and asked to see our paperwork.
I spoke a little Spanish, so I handed them our Certificates of Travel and answered their questions, which were brusque and just the basics – thank goodness.
I could manage our names and destination.
The two guards in our compartment didn’t seem overly interested in us, and they soon moved on. When the train set off again, we were triumphant, though we tried not to react.
‘We’ll cross the French border at Hendaye. That will be in the early hours,’ said Henry, dealing another hand of cards.
I made a face, aware that Hendaye was in the occupied zone – the other side of southern France to where the escape routes were. I imagined the border checks there would be done by Nazis.
Lara put her cards down on the seat next to her and sighed heavily. ‘It’s not even midnight,’ she said. ‘We’ve hours and hours to go before we reach Paris.’
‘Do you want to stretch your legs?’ I asked. ‘We could go for a walk along the corridor.’
Lara’s eyes glinted. ‘I want a drink,’ she said. ‘Let’s go to the bar.’
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’ Henry sounded stern.
‘Oh, come on,’ said Lara. ‘Just one, then we can come back here and doze off for a while before we get to France. It’ll help us sleep.’
Henry looked at me. ‘One can’t hurt, can it?’
‘It can,’ I said.
‘Well, Rhodri and I can go for a drink, can’t we, honey?’ said Lara, tossing her hair. ‘You can stay here and mind the bags.’
‘I’ll come,’ I said. I knew when I was beaten. ‘It’s best we all stay together.’
Lara clapped her hands delightedly.
‘Come on, then,’ she said. ‘Lead the way, Rhodri.’
We headed out into the corridor, swaying with the movement of the train, and made our way to the bar.
It was quiet, which wasn’t surprising given it was almost midnight, and it was really rather lovely.
The tables were covered in crisp white cloths, with little lamps on each one.
There was a bar at the far end, with a smartly dressed barman chatting to a man who sat on a high stool, his back to us and a glass of whisky in front of him.
At another table sat a group of Nazi officers – including the one who’d noticed me earlier. He nodded again when we arrived and I acknowledged him. ‘Guten abend,’ I said as we walked by.
We sat at a table. I chose to sit with my back to the bar, so I could see the rest of the carriage.
Henry and Lara sat opposite me, and before we knew it, another bartender appeared to take our orders.
It felt like a throwback to another time – an easier, happier time – and I quite liked it.
How different travelling across Europe was if you had money and influence, compared with the desperate refugees tramping through countries and surviving as best they could, or the airmen following the escape lines and risking their lives in the process.
I sighed, as the barman put our drinks down on the table and Henry handed him some money.
‘This is delightful,’ said Lara.
‘Before the war, they used to serve full meals on this train …’ Henry began, and I let my mind drift, half-listening to him and half taking in my surroundings.
Behind me, the man who was sitting on the bar stool said, ‘Boa noite.’ Opposite me, Henry sat up straighter, while Lara’s eyes widened.
I nudged Henry with my foot under the table wondering why he’d reacted that way and glanced round to see – to my shock – that the man was Archie.
He was wearing a trilby hat and a tweed suit, like one of Digby’s.
He saw us looking at him, but he barely reacted, other than a tiny flicker at the corner of his eye. I watched as he gathered himself, subtly, and as he went to walk past us, he dropped his wallet.