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meat, but certainly didn't taste like it.
"Got some salt in my pocket if you want, Fryer volunteered.
"No thanks. I doubt if it would make any difference." He ate some bread which,
though half stale, had a sound, nutty flavor. "No meat in the meal?"
"No. Never on the dole. There's chunks of soy immo here, all the protein you
need they say. Water at the fountain over there if you want to wash it down."
'Afterward. Is the food always like this?"
"More or less. People earn a bit Qf money they buy bits of things in the
shops. If you've no crumble then this is it. You can live on it."
"I suppose that you could. But I don't really see it as an inspiring regular
diet."
He shut up as a man came in, shambled over, and sat at their table.
"Bit of trouble, Fryer," he said, looking at Jan while he did.
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They stood and moved against the wall to talk. Jan ate another spoonful then
pushed the bowl away from him. A lifetime eating this? Nine out of ten workers
were on the dole. Not to mention their wives and children. And this had been
going on around him for all of his life-and he had not been aware. He had
lived his life on an iceberg, unaware of the buried nine-tenths beneath the
surface.
"We're going back to the car, gov," Fryer said. "Something's come up.
'Anything to do with me?"
"Don't know. Word just passed for us to get there as soon as we could. No idea
of what, except it's trouble. Plenty of it."
They walked hard. Not running, that would draw attention, but solidly and
steadily through the clutching snow. Jan had glimpses of lit shops with their
displays hidden behind steamy windows. He wondered what they sold, and
realized they were as alien to his experience as the shops in the market he
had visited on the shore of the Red
Sea.
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At the rear of the garage once again, Jan held the flashlight so that Fryer
could find the right key in its dim light. They went into the shed and on into
the garage itself.
"I'll be winged!" Fryer said, flashing the light across the barren floor.
"My car is gone!"
A far brighter torch flashed in their eyes and someone said, "Just stand right
there and don't move. Watch where you put your hands."
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Eleven
Jan had no thought of moving, could not have moved if he had wanted to. The
shock of all this, first his car gone, then the sudden confrontation. The game
was up, he was caught, it was all over. He stood, frozen with the dreadful
realization.
"Back to the shed, Fryer," the man said again. "Someone here you don't know."
Fryer went out docilely enough. and the man with the flashlight followed him;
Jan could only make out his outline as he went by. What was happening?
"Jan, I must talk to you," a familiar voice said as soon as the door had
closed. The small light was still in his hand and he brought it up and picked
Sara's face out of the darkness. "We didn't mean to give you a fright," she
said, "but this is an emergency.
"Fright! It was nothing like that. My heart stopped, that was all!"
"I'm sorry," she smiled, but the smile instanfly vanished. "Something very bad
has happened and we may need your help. One of our people has been captured
and we cannot let him be identified. Have you heard of Slethill Camp?"
"It's a work camp in Sunderland, the far north of Scotland in the Highlands.
We are fairly sure that we can get him out of the camp, that is easy enough,
but we don't know how to get him out of the area. That is when I thought of
you and your saying you go up there for cross-country skiing. Could he ski out
of there?"
"He could if he knew the area and knew how to ski. Does he?"
"No, I don't think so. But he's young and fit and could learn. Is it
difficult?"
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"Very easy to learn the basics. Very bard to be very good. Do you have anyone
who could show him what to do Sudden realization struck him and he turned the
light back on her face. Her eyes were lowered and she was very pale.
"Yes. I'm going to ask you to help," Sara said. "It bothers me not only for
the danger you will be put in, but because we should not even be mentioning
this sort of thing to you. If you decide to work with us, yours could be the
most important job in the entire resistance. But if this man is not freed it
might very well be the end of everything."
"It's that important?"
"It is."
"Then of course I'll help. But I must go home for my equipment-"
Impossible. Everyone thinks that you are in Scotland. We have even had your
car driven up there to cover your movements here."
"So that's where it went."
"We can have it left wherever you want in Scotland. Will that help?"
"Tremendously. How do I get there?"
"By train. There's one leaving for Edinburgh in two hours and we can get you
on it.
You'll go as you are, you won't be noticed that way, and you can bring your
other clothes in a bag. Fryer will go with you."
Jan thought swiftly, frowning into the darkness. 'Ar-range it then. Also
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arrange to meet me yourself in Edinburgh in the morning, in your Cynthia
Barton role, and bring some money. At least five hundred pounds in cash. Old
notes. Can that be done?"
"Of course. I'll take care of it now. Fryer will be informed of everything.
Call to him now, tell him the man with him is to leave with me."
It seemed foolish, that people risking their lives together could not even see
each other's faces. But it was simple insurance that if one of them were
captured he could not identify the others. They stayed in darkness until Fryer
and the unknown man returned, then he and Sara left in silence after a quick
muttered conversation with Fryer. Fryer waited until they left before he
turned the light on.
"Going for a mystery tour are we," he said. "Nice time of year for a trip." He
rooted in the boxes at the end of the garage and produced an ancient army
duffle bag. "This will do fine. Just put your clothes in here and we'll be
off. A brisk walk should get us to King's Cross just on time.
Once more Fryer showed his superior knowledge of the back streets of London.
Only twice were they forced to cross any of the brilliantly lit avenues. Each [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]