Winter in Madrid (64 page)

‘It will make things easier,’ she said firmly. ‘Cuenca is an old medieval town; it is not easy to find your way around.’ She turned to Barbara. ‘Should you not go and meet the guard now?’

‘Yes. Give me a quarter of an hour, then follow.’ When she got up her legs were shaking.

T
HE AFTERNOON
was damp and raw, the streets wet with melting slush. There was still a trace of last night’s fog and some shops already had their lights on. The first Christmas displays had appeared in the windows, the three wise men standing round the crib with their gifts. Barbara wondered what sort of Christmas Sandy would give Pilar in Lisbon.

Real Madrid were playing a football match and there was a little crowd round the counter at the cafe, listening to a radio. Luis sat at his usual table. His nervous air irritated her today.

‘You gave me a fright last night,’ she said brusquely as she sat down.

‘I had to let you know.’

‘Why did the shift change?’

He shrugged. ‘It happens. One of the guards was ill and everything had to be adjusted. It will be exactly the same arrangement, only on Friday instead of Saturday.’

‘Friday the thirteenth,’ she said with a brittle laugh. Luis looked at her uncomprehendingly.

‘It’s supposed to be an unlucky day in England.’

‘I had never heard that.’ He ventured a smile. ‘It is Tuesday the thirteenth that is unlucky in Spain,
señora
, so do not worry about that.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Listen, will the snow be melting in Cuenca too?’

‘I should think so. The radio said the thaw is happening all over the country.’ Luis looked round, then leant forward. ‘The escape will
be at four, as we said. Your friend should reach the bridge by seven. If there is heavy snow and he is not there by nine, or in the cathedral if the bridge is guarded, you will know they have decided to call it off because of the weather.’

‘Or he’s been caught.’

‘In either case there is nothing you can do. If he does not come you should drive back to Madrid. Do not stay the night in Cuenca – details of all hotel visitors go to the
civiles
and an Englishwoman staying alone would be noticed. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, of course I understand.’ She gave him a cigarette and left the packet of Gold Flake on the table.

‘I think you may be lucky. Despite this Friday the thirteenth. The snow will stay on the high mountains but in the lower part of the Tierra Muerta it should be gone.’

‘I’ve been lucky in another way,’ she said, looking him in the eye. ‘There’s an old English friend of Bernie’s here in Madrid, he’s going to get me a car. He’s going to drive me there with his Spanish fiancée. She knows Cuenca.’

‘What?’ Luis looked horrified. ‘Señora, this was supposed to be secret. How many people have you told?’

‘Only them. They can be trusted. I’ve known Harry for years.’

‘
Señora
, you were going to go alone, that was the agreement. This complicates things.’

‘No it doesn’t,’ Barbara replied calmly. ‘It makes them easier. Three of us on a day out won’t be as noticeable as a woman alone. And anyway, I couldn’t get a car without Harry. What are you so scared of?’

Luis looked utterly disconcerted. Through the window Barbara saw Harry and Sofia crossing the road. ‘There’s no point arguing, they’ll be here in a minute.’

‘¡Mierda!’
Luis gave her a trapped, angry look. ‘You should have told me.’

‘I didn’t tell them until two days ago.’

‘You should have spoken to me first! On your own heads be it,
señora
.’ He glowered at Harry and Sofia as they entered the cafe. There was a shout from the crowd as someone scored a goal.

Sofia and Harry came over. Luis shook their hands unsmilingly.

‘Luis isn’t very happy,’ Barbara explained. ‘But I’ve told him it’s all settled.’

Luis leaned forward. ‘This is a dangerous venture,’ he said angrily.

‘We know,’ Harry replied, his manner reasonable, authoritative. ‘Why don’t we go over things and see if there being three of us makes matters more difficult in any way. Now, we drive to Cuenca, get there by four, and leave the car somewhere, yes?’

Luis nodded. ‘Agustín spent an afternoon tramping the lanes to look for the best place. There is an abandoned collective farm just outside the town, and there is a field screened from the road by some trees just beyond the sign saying you are about to enter Cuenca. You should leave the car in the field, it will not be seen.’ He leaned forward. ‘It is important you leave the car there, it is the nearest hidden place to the town. Few people have cars in Cuenca; yours could attract attention from the
civiles
if it’s just left parked in a street.’

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, that makes sense.’

Luis looked at Barbara through narrowed eyes. ‘Agustín put a lot of work into this. And if it fails he could be shot.’

‘We know, Luis,’ Barbara said gently.

‘And then we walk up to the old town, to the cathedral?’ Harry continued.

‘Yes. It will be dark by the time you get there. You wait in the cathedral until seven, then cross the gorge by the bridge, to the stand of trees. There will be few people around, if any, at that time on a winter night. But the old man, Francisco, is expecting only Señora Forsyth.’

‘Then we can explain,’ Harry said. ‘I think I should be the one to fetch Bernie. You two can wait in the cathedral.’

‘No,’ Barbara replied quickly. ‘It should be me, he’ll be expecting me alone.’

Luis threw up his hands. ‘This is what I mean. You cannot agree even on this.’

‘We can sort that out later,’ Harry said. ‘Barbara, you’ve got the clothes?’

‘All packed up. He changes behind the bushes, we cross the bridge to the cathedral, then we all walk back to the car.’

Harry nodded. ‘Like two couples on a day out. It’s very plausible.’

‘Can this old man in the cathedral be trusted?’ Sofia asked.

‘He needs money desperately. He has a sick wife.’

‘The cathedral.’ Sofia hesitated. ‘I expect like most cathedrals in the Republican zone they will have the names of priests killed during the Republic listed there.’

Luis gave her a puzzled look. ‘I expect so. Why?’

‘I had an uncle who was a priest there.’

‘I am sorry,
señorita
.’ Luis looked at Harry. ‘Why are you in Spain,
señor
? Are you a businessman like Señora Forsyth’s husband?’

‘Yes, yes I am.’ Harry lied with a straight face. You do it easily, Barbara thought.

‘Your husband still knows nothing?’ Luis asked her.

‘Nothing.’

He looked between them, then shrugged. ‘Well, it is on your heads, as I say. And I will meet you the day after,
señora
?’

‘Yes. As arranged.’

‘And your brother?’ Harry asked. ‘He will let himself be hit on the head, stick to his story after?’

‘Of course he will! I told you, he could be shot for aiding an escape!’

‘All right.’ Harry nodded. ‘That’s it, then. It’s settled. I don’t see any problems.’

‘And then you and your brother will go back to Sevilla,’ Sofia said.

Luis blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘Yes. Forget the army and the war and danger.’

‘You were conscripted when the Fascists took Sevilla at the beginning of the war?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ He stared at her. ‘We had no choice. If you refused you were shot.’

‘Then you were on Franco’s march to Madrid in 1936. With the Moors.’

Luis’s voice hardened. ‘I told you,
señorita
, we had no choice. I
was at the Siege that winter, on the other side of the lines to you no doubt. But there is hardly a street in Spain that did not have people on opposite sides.’

‘That’s true, Sofia,’ Harry said. ‘Look at you and your uncle.’

There was a disappointed shout from the crowd. The football match was over; Real Madrid had lost. The men round the bar started drifting over to the tables.

‘If you have no more questions I should go,’ Luis said.

‘I think we’ve covered everything.’ Harry looked enquiringly at the women, who nodded.

Luis got up. ‘Then I wish you good luck.’

‘I do not like that man,’ Sofia said after he had gone.

Harry took her hand. ‘What he said about the war was true. People often had no choice about which side they fought on.’

‘He never pretended to be doing this for any other reason than money,’ Barbara said. ‘If he was tricking me he could have taken the money I’ve given him already – quite a lot – and disappeared.’

‘All right.’

Two men at the next table started talking loudly. ‘That’s Real down again.’

‘
Ay
, it is bad luck,’ his friend replied. ‘And have you heard, there’s another freeze on the way. It is going to get colder again. Perhaps more snow.’

Barbara bit her lip. She thought, Friday the thirteenth. Even the best plans needed luck in the end.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Harry and Sofia walked down the Castellana, towards the embassy. Harry would have liked to put his arm in hers but there was a pair of
civiles
nearby.

Overnight the weather had turned colder again; there were patches of black ice on the pavements, frozen slush in the gutters. People going to work were huddled into their coats. But there had been no snow and the morning sky was a clear electric blue.

‘You’ll be all right?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes.’ Sofia smiled at him. ‘It is just a matter of filling in forms and Spaniards are used to that. I got through the political questions yesterday.’ There were some documents to prepare for the marriage ceremony; this morning she had an interview with the embassy lawyer. The man wanted to see her on her own but she would come to Harry’s office afterwards.

‘This time tomorrow we’ll be on our way to Cuenca,’ he said.

‘Are you quite sure the ambassador will send Bernie back to England?’

‘He has to. He can’t act illegally.’

‘They would here. They do it all the time.’

‘England’s different,’ Harry said. ‘It’s not perfect but it is different that way.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Get reception to call me when they’ve finished with you. I’ll show you my office. The hours are going to go pretty slowly today. When are you due at the dairy?’

‘Twelve. I’m on the afternoon shift.’

‘I’ve had a letter from Will. He’s rented a house for us. It’s on the outskirts of Cambridge, it’s got four bedrooms.’

Sofia laughed, shaking her head at the idea of such luxury.

‘We can move in when we like. Then I’ll see about a teaching job and getting a doctor for Paco.’

‘And I will take English lessons.’

He smiled at her. ‘And see you behave yourself. Don’t cheek the teacher.’

‘I will try.’ She looked around her, at the tall buildings of the Castellana, the high blue Madrid sky. ‘It seems so strange, in a couple of weeks we shall be so far away.’

‘You’ll find England odd at first. You’ll have to get used to how formal we are, how we don’t speak our minds.’

‘You do.’

‘I do to you. Well, there’s the embassy. See the flag?’

He signed her in and waited with her till the lawyer appeared. A bluff friendly man, he introduced himself and shook their hands before leading Sofia away. As Harry watched them go another door opened and Weaver appeared.

‘Hello, Brett, not coming to the Spanish Academy do? Better buck up or we’ll be late.’

‘I’m on standby.’

‘Oh yes, I forgot. So many parties this time of year. You’ve got tomorrow off, haven’t you?’

‘Yes. I’ve booked a car, going for a spin in the country.’

‘Bit cold for that, isn’t it? Oh well, have a good time. See you next week.’

T
OLHURST WAS
at his desk, a pile of files beside him. Sheets of paper were covered in calculations in his neat round hand.

‘Agents’ expenses?’

‘Yes, have to get these all done before Christmas. Are you coming to the American embassy reception tomorrow? Should be a good do.’

‘No, I’ve got the day off. Taking Sofia out for a ride in the country.’ Harry felt a spark of the old affection for him. ‘Listen, Tolly, about the wedding. I’m grateful for your help.’

‘Oh, that’s all right.’

‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Forsyth.’

Tolhurst folded his hands over his plump stomach. He was getting fatter.

‘Oh well, at least we know they’ve no gold.’

‘Any more news on that?’ Harry asked diffidently.

‘According to the captain, Sam was thinking of telling Maestre the mine was a fake. He’ll know how far we’ve been involved, but at least he’ll have been given some information he could use. Let the Falangists make fools of themselves.’

‘I see.’ Harry didn’t care any more.

He smiled at Harry. ‘You’re off soon, I hear.’

‘Yes, after the wedding.’

Tolhurst looked at him for a moment. ‘Got a best man?’ he asked.

‘We’re asking Sofia’s brother.’ Harry realized Tolhurst had been hoping to be asked. Tolhurst, his watcher. Harry was grateful for what he had done over the wedding but he hadn’t even considered that.

‘Are you going back to England for Christmas?’ he asked to change the subject.

‘No,’ Tolhurst replied huffily. ‘Staying on duty. Sitting around in case any problems come up with our agents.’ The telephone rang. Tolhurst picked it up and nodded. ‘That’s reception. They’ve finished with your girly. She says everything’s OK and she’s waiting for you downstairs.’

‘I’ll get off then.’

He looked at Harry. ‘By the way, have you seen anything of Miss Clare? Forsyth’s girl?’

‘I met her for coffee yesterday,’ Harry said carefully.

‘Forsyth seems to have cleared out properly. I suppose the woman will go back to England now.’

There was a knock at the door and an elderly, frockcoated secretary came in. He looked anxious. He peered at Harry though gold pince-nez. ‘Are you Brett?’

‘Yes.’

‘The ambassador would like to see you in his office.’

‘What? What about?’

‘If you could just come with me, sir. It is urgent.’

Harry glanced at Tolhurst but he only shrugged, looking puzzled.
Harry turned and followed the secretary down the corridor. He was on the verge of panic. Had they somehow found out about Cuenca?