Luis looked at Barbara through narrowed eyes. 'Agustin 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 Senora 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, senorita.' Luis looked at Harry. 'Why are you in Spain, senor? Are you a businessman like Senora 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, senora?'

'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, senorita, 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.

Chapter Forty-Four.

THE 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.'

TOLHURST 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.