Chapter Eleven

I made it home before dark, but not in time to prevent Nacy from seeing the note I'd left. Luckily, she was too preoccupied with cooking dinner to ask many questions.

She did wrinkle her nose as I peeked over her shoulder to see the contents of the pot. "Where have you been, dear? You smell like burnt rubbish."

"Hard to escape smoke these days, Nacy," I said lightly. "I'll just go take a bath before dinner."

"Yes, you've plenty of time," she said, sifting through the spices in her cupboard. "This will be another three-quarters of an hour at least." Nacy had taken rationing as her own personal battlefront, and thus far she had marshaled her troops into winning every engagement.

I went off to my flat and bathed away the smoke. Unfortunately, this meant washing my hair, and my hair freshly washed was about as manageable as wild horses.

I was sitting before my mirror in my robe, ruthlessly brushing out the last of the tangles, when there was a familiar rap at the front door.

I knew at once who it must be. Even if I hadn't recognized the pattern of the knock, there were few people who would be at my door at this hour.

I tossed the brush onto the dressing table and hurried across the flat.

"Who is it?" I called through the door, as a precaution.

"A tall, dark, and handsome stranger," came the reply.

As I suspected.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Felix stood on the doorstep, his outline silhouetted by the last pale blue hues of twilight.

"Hello, my lovely," he said. He came inside and pushed the door closed with his foot as he took me into his arms. He was cold, all of him. His coat, his face, his lips against mine.

"You're freezing," I said as I finally pulled back. "Let me make you some tea."

"That sounds wonderful."

I went into my little kitchen and put the kettle on the hob as Felix discarded his coat and muffler and moved to take his usual seat on my sofa.

"Just let me go and make myself decent," I said as I came out of the kitchen, remembering I was still in my robe. "And then you can tell me about your trip."

His eyes ran over me, and I saw the glint in them right before he grinned at me. "Don't put on clothes on my account."

I shot him a look and turned toward the bedroom. "I won't be a moment."

"Do you need any assistance?"

"I can manage, thank you."

I left the bedroom door open a crack so I could talk to him as I pulled on a green double-knit dress and a heavy jumper. "Nacy has dinner nearly ready. She and Uncle Mick will be glad to see you."

"I was hoping there would be a dinner invitation. I'm half-starved, in addition to being frozen clean through."

"It's so much worse when the sun sets, even as little sun as there's been. You could have come to see me in the morning."

"I didn't want to wait. Besides, the weather here is practically balmy compared to what it was in Scotland," he said. "I thought I might have to shovel a tunnel to get to the train station."

"When did you get back?"

"Just this afternoon," he said. "I had a few things I had to tend to, and then I came right to you."

"I'm glad," I said, coming back into the living room. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

He smiled up at me, and I realized again how handsome Felix was. He was tall and suave and elegant, with his slick dark hair and thin mustache in the style of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., or Laurence Olivier. His brown eyes were always warm when they looked at me, but there were also the flashes of mischief that lurked just below the surface, ready to spring out at a moment's notice as they had when he'd suggested he help me dress.

I took a seat on the sofa, and he reached out and took my hand in his, giving me a gentle tug. "You're much too far away."

I moved closer, leaning into his side, and he slipped an arm around me. It felt comfortable to be close to him. Safe. When I wasn't with Felix, I sometimes had doubts about the depth of my feelings for him, but when we were together, everything felt so very easy.

Oh, I know girls generally like the thrill of romance, the heart-racing uncertainties that come with new relationships, but I think we sometimes underestimate the appeal of being so completely secure with someone. Felix and I were the same in so many ways; we understood each other. There was attraction there, too, of course, but it often felt more relaxed than urgent. And in this moment, when I was tired from a long day, I relished the cozy security of his arm around me.

I leaned my head against his shoulder with a little sigh, and he turned to kiss my forehead. "Everything all right?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Me, too. I should be home for at least a fortnight this time," he said.

I knew I needed to press him about what was going on in Scotland, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, not now. After the uncertainty of the past few days, I only wanted to enjoy being near him.

So we just sat close together on the sofa, talking about superficial things, until the kettle began to whistle.

I went to the kitchen to get the tea-things and returned with a little tray with cups for both of us.

"Rather nice that Jerry gave us a break over the holiday, wasn't it?" he said. "I'm sure you were glad not to have to descend to the cellars every night at dusk."

"Do you think they'll start up again as bad as before?" I asked. I knew on a practical level that it was likely but I'd been trying not to think too much about it.

"Perhaps not," Felix said, lying gallantly for my sake. "Perhaps they've realized it's not going to do them any good and will only make half-hearted efforts from here on out."

I smiled at his assurances. "Let's pretend so. At least for tonight."

We settled back onto the sofa with our tea, and I told him about the recent job Uncle Mick and I had done at the shop and some of the news from the neighborhood.

I didn't tell him about the job I was working on with Major Ramsey. Official Secrets Act aside, Felix didn't like the major, and there was no sense in spoiling his mood.

"Have you given any thought to that other matter?" he asked as he took a sip of the steaming tea.

I knew exactly what "other matter" he meant. He was talking about my father's involvement in espionage.

I appreciated his careful way of inquiring, giving me the opportunity to push the topic away if I didn't feel up to discussing it. But I needed to talk about it with someone, and I had been feeling his absence as my closest confidant keenly.

"I may have discovered something," I told him. I related the discovery I'd made in the trunk in the cellar and the step I'd taken in asking Mr. Frank Doyle to see if he could decipher the code.

"I'm half afraid he won't be able to crack it and half afraid he will," I said. "I don't know what I want."

Felix squeezed my hand. "You know I'm with you, sweet. Whatever way the wind blows."

"I know," I said, looking into his warm, dark eyes. "Thank you, Felix. I suppose it's just that, in some ways, it would be easier if I never have to know."

"There's a reason they say ignorance is bliss."

I nodded. "I never really appreciated the truth of that until now. But it's also occurred to me that, if my father was involved in some sort of espionage, whoever killed him might still be working for Germany now. Perhaps living and spying in this country."

"It's been almost a quarter of a century," he pointed out.

"Yes. You're probably right. All the same, everything is complicated by the fact that we're at war with Germany again. If I go digging too far, I might end up in over my head."

He set his teacup down, his eyes on it rather than on me. "Have you considered talking to Ramsey about it?"

He asked this casually, but there was a note in his voice I could not quite interpret. He and the major had never got on, and, at least on Felix's side, that was mostly to do with me. Felix was exceptionally perceptive, even when it came to strangers, so it was not at all surprising he had sensed the undertow of attraction that existed in my relationship with Major Ramsey. He'd recognized it even before I'd been willing to admit it to myself.

Which made his suggesting that I confide in Major Ramsey seem a very sweet gesture. But I didn't want Ramsey to know about this. I didn't want to give him any excuse for getting rid of me—and my being the daughter of a possible German spy was a particularly good excuse.

"No," I said. "I don't want him to know about this."

"Why not?" he asked, turning to look at me.

"I… it's… I don't…" I faltered, trying to put it into words without confessing to Felix exactly how complicated my feelings for the major had become.

"He could probably find out for you," Felix was saying. "I'm sure there would be files somewhere that he has access to, if your father really was spying for Germany."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "I just don't think I want to share it with him right now."

"It's your decision, of course," he said, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. He put a cigarette in his mouth and flicked on his lighter. The tip of the cigarette flared to life and Felix took a deep drag. "I think it's a waste of a good resource."

"I'll think about it," I said, rising from the sofa. "In the meantime, we'd better go to the house. Nacy will be cross if she has to come out in the cold to fetch us."

It was still dark when I was roused from slumber by a tap on my bedroom door.

"Ellie?" It was Uncle Mick's voice.

I sat up, instantly awake. He wouldn't be at my door in the middle of the night if it wasn't important. There hadn't been any sirens, so it must be something else. Was it Nacy?

These thoughts crossed my mind in the space of an instant as I tumbled out of bed, grabbed my robe, and hurried into the sitting room.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sweeping my hair out of my face.

"It's all right, love," he said gently. "I'm sorry to wake you up, but there's a bloke at the house looking for you."

"What?" I asked, still trying to get my head on straight. If I hadn't been half-asleep, I might have noticed Uncle Mick's searching gaze before he spoke his next words.

"There's a fellow come to the door saying Pony Peavey sent him." His tone was mild, but his expression told me that I was going to owe him an explanation.

"Oh," I said, rubbing a hand across my eyes. My brain was finally beginning to catch up with my body, and I realized that Pony must have already discovered something about the robbery at Nico Lazaro's flat. That had been quick work.

"What's this all about, Ellie?" Uncle Mick asked.

"It's to do with my new job with the major," I said, hoping that explanation would suffice for now. Grown woman or not, I didn't relish being in my uncle's bad graces.

"And I suppose that's all you'll be telling me for the time being."

I gave him an apologetic look. "You know how it is, Uncle Mick."

"Aye, love. I know." He smiled. "Well, then. You'd better not keep the fellow waiting."

"I won't be a minute." I hurried back to my bedroom and changed into a pair of black trousers with a blouse and thick gray jumper. I didn't bother trying to manage my hair but put on a blue wool beret over it. It was freezing outside, so I might as well kill two birds with one stone.

I grabbed my coat and pulled it on as Uncle Mick and I stepped out into the frigid air. The light had the dark blue quality of early morning, and I guessed it would be perhaps an hour until dawn.

My breath came out in a cloud of white steam as I followed Uncle Mick out across the frozen garden, snow and frost crunching beneath our feet, to the front of the house.

It didn't take me long to recognize the fellow I had seen in the shadows of Pony's cellar. He stood in the shadows now, too. He was wearing a hat low on his forehead, but the slouch of his shoulders beneath his coat was identifiable.

The hat turned in my direction as we approached across the garden. He wasted neither time nor words.

"Pony says you might want to come. We've got one of the blokes you were looking for."