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He stirred uncomfortably, then opened his eyes. He seemed to take a moment or two to remember where he was, then smiled at her, concern in his face. “Are you all right?” he asked, only just loudly enough to be heard over the rattle of the wheels, although there was no one else with them in the carriage.
“Yes. Thank you. Why are you doing all this? Where were you going…without…?” She shrugged very slightly.
“To a job in Hamburg. But there’s no hurry,” he answered.
“Where do you live?”
“London. But I move around quite a lot.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” He smiled again. It lit his face, making him look far younger. “What did you expect me to do? Leave you there, alone and in trouble? It could as easily have been me! We’ll get out of this. Just don’t draw attention to yourself.”
She nodded and tried to smile back.
The next station came quickly. Elena got up, collected her remaining small case with the precious camera inside.
They climbed off the train and stood on the almost-deserted platform together. The sky was lightening in the east already.
There were very few people around, and they all seemed to be hurrying somewhere. Elena and Walter approached a man in working clothes. He looked weary and half asleep. Walter asked him, in French, if he could direct them to the right platform for the next train north.
The man considered it for several moments, then asked where they wanted to end up.
“Berlin,” Walter said without hesitation. The man might hate Germans, he might have lost family in the war…who in France had not? He might mistake them for Germans, but it was a chance they had to take.
The man grunted and looked at Walter with disfavor.
“Please?” Elena said quietly. “We need to get to the British Embassy there. We have a friend who’s in trouble.” Something of a distortion of the truth, but it hardly mattered now, and it could do the man no harm.
“You English?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“In a hurry?”
“Yes…please.”
“If you are quick, you’ll get the first train off platform four. It’ll get you to Hamburg. It’s a long journey, but there should be lots of trains from Hamburg to Berlin.”
“Thank you very much,” Elena said, looking where his finger pointed to the bridge over the track.
“You’d best hurry!” he called after her.
“Thank you,” she said over her shoulder, as Walter led the way. Her legs were stiff and she felt as if there was no strength left in them. She was exhausted. Twice she nearly missed her step, stumbling, and only Walter’s grip on her arm prevented her from falling. Her bag was not really heavy, but it weighed like lead right now.
She hung on to him on the way down the far side. If she fell, that would be the end of her whole purpose. She could imagine slipping and breaking an ankle, crippling not only her leg, but the whole mission of stopping the assassination.
From the little she had read of Scharnhorst, the world would be a great deal better off without him. Whoever made that choice, she sympathized with them. Normally she would have cheered them on, but if Britain was going to be blamed and an international incident ensued, that was different.
She reached the bottom of the steps and could see the light of the oncoming train far along the track.
“Come on!” Walter urged, and ran, half dragging her over the platform and through the arch of platform four. She looked one way for the sign to tell her what train was next. There was nothing in either direction, except the single light of the oncoming train growing rapidly larger until it came to a grinding halt.
Was there someone they could ask? There were no porters, no stationmaster. Panic welled up inside her. They had to catch it! But what if it was going somewhere else entirely? What if she ended up in Switzerland? Or Austria?
Walter opened the nearest carriage door just as an elderly man filled the opening carrying a small case in his hand. “Pardon!” he said with surprise.
“Sorry, monsieur,” Walter said. “Is this train going north? I can’t see anything that says so.”
