She paused on the steps. ‘Yes.’

‘Come in a minute.’

He was standing by the unlit fire, smoking, still in his hat and coat. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. He sounded a little drunk. There was a dull, sad look in his eyes she had never seen before.

‘Still pretty bunged up.’

‘This room’s cold. Why hasn’t Pilar made up the fire?’

Barbara took a deep breath. ‘Pilar’s gone, Sandy. She came to see me this afternoon and handed in her notice. Her mother’s ill in Zaragoza, so she says.’

Sandy shrugged. ‘Oh well.’ He looked at her. ‘I’ve been with some people from the British Embassy. Then I went for a drink.’

‘What was that about?’ She knew, of course. Harry had said they wanted to recruit him.

‘Sit down,’ Sandy said. She sat on the edge of the sofa. He lit another cigarette. ‘Tell me, when you and Brett met did he ever ask questions about me? About my work?’

Oh God, she thought, he knows about Harry. That’s why he’s calling him Brett. ‘A few times, when he first came. There wasn’t much I could tell him.’

Sandy nodded reflectively, then he said, ‘Harry’s not an interpreter at all, he’s a spy. He’s been spying on my business ventures for the fucking secret service.’

She pretended surprise. ‘What? Are you sure you’ve got this right? Why should they spy on you?’

‘I’ve been involved in a big project.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘That’s done for now. I’m finished here.’

‘What? Why?’

‘It had too many enemies. Brett’s people are offering a lifeline, but – Harry, he took me in. I should have realized,’ he said, more to himself than her. ‘I should have stayed alert. But I trusted him. They probably knew I would.’

‘Who? Who did?’

‘Eh? His bosses, the sneaky little beakies.’ He shook his head again. ‘I should have seen. I should have seen. Never let your guard down,’ he muttered, ‘never trust anybody.’ His eyes were unfocused; she thought she saw tears forming.

‘Are you sure this is right?’ Barbara asked. ‘Why – why would he spy on you?’

‘He told me himself.’ Sandy spoke in a flat unemotional voice. ‘Or rather his bosses did, while he sat there. You could see he didn’t want it to come out. They’ve been interested in my business activities. They want me to work for them now. Back in England.’ He shook his head again. ‘England. The drizzle and the regulations and the sniffling hypocrisy. And the bombs. That’s if they don’t shove me in jail or knock me on the head once I’m back. Under escort.’ He looked at her keenly. ‘You want to go back, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘What about your business?’

‘I told you, that’s done for.’ His mouth worked for a second. ‘All over. The biggest thing I ever did.’

She had a sudden mad urge to blurt it all out, tell him about Bernie and the rescue. It was the tension, she couldn’t stand the tension another moment. But Sandy said abruptly, ‘I’m going upstairs. I’ve some things to sort out. Then I’m going out for a bit.’

‘At this time of night?’

‘Yes.’ He turned and left the room.

She went to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a stiff whisky, then sat down and lit a cigarette. So Harry had been unmasked. He would have hated that. But perhaps he deserved it.

The telephone rang shrilly in the hall. ‘Hell,’ she breathed, ‘what now?’ She waited for Pilar to answer it then remembered the girl was gone. The ringing went on. Why didn’t Sandy answer it on his extension? She went into the hall and picked up the receiver.

‘Señora Forsyth?’ She recognized Luis’s voice at once, hoarse and breathless. She stared round the hall frantically, terrified Sandy might appear from upstairs and ask who it was.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘What is it? Why are you ringing here?’

‘Forgive me, señora, I had to.’ He paused. ‘Is it safe to talk?’

‘Yes. But if you hear a click that’ll be him on the extension, stop speaking.’ She spoke in a frantic whisper. ‘What is it? Be quick.’

‘I have just heard from Agustín. We have an arrangement he can telephone me at a bar I go to in the evenings—’

‘Yes, yes, please be quick.’

‘The staff rota has been changed. Agustín will not be with Piper at the prison quarry on Saturday.’

‘What, oh God—’

‘It will have to be Friday, can you come to Cuenca the day before? The same arrangement, meeting Piper in the bushes by the bridge at seven? Agustín has gone into Cuenca, to see the old man at the cathedral.’

‘Yes, yes, all right, yes.’ She frowned. Would Harry be able to get Friday off from the embassy?

‘I know we are meeting tomorrow, but I wanted to let you know, señora, as soon as possible. In case there were arrangements you had to change.’

‘All right, yes, all right. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Goodbye.’ There was a click and the phone went dead, the whirr of the dialling tone filling her ear. She replaced the receiver. She went back into the salón but she couldn’t settle. She went out again and mounted the stairs. The hallway was dim and she remembered when she was a child going up to bed, her fear of the dark at the top of the stairs. She thought suddenly of Carmela, the woolly donkey she had left in the church.

There was a strip of light under their bedroom door. He had gone in there, he was opening and closing drawers. What was he doing?

She went back into the salón and sat smoking and drinking. After a while she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She tensed, expecting him to come to the salón, but then heard the front door close, followed by the car starting up. It drove away. Barbara ran upstairs to her bedroom. He had taken some clothes, a suit and a shirt. She looked out of the window. A fog had descended, the weak streetlamps showing through as a faint yellow haze. Where was he going? What was he doing? It wasn’t safe weather for driving.

She sat at the window for hours, smoking, alone in the house.

IT WAS QUIET in the restaurant by the Royal Palace. Barbara ordered a coffee from the plump little owner; she could tell he remembered her from the day she was here with Harry. Only a few weeks ago, though it seemed like a lifetime.

It was just after two o’clock. Harry and Sofia were not due for another hour, but Barbara had had to get out of the empty house. Sandy had still not returned. The daily had arrived at nine and Barbara set her to clearing the kitchen. Then she walked through the silent rooms, no sound apart from her own footsteps and the ceaseless dripping from outside. The snow was almost gone. She went into Sandy’s study. Everything appeared normal, all the pictures and ornaments still in place. She opened the drawer in his desk where he kept his bank books. It was empty. He’s gone for good, she thought, he’s left me. She felt strangely downcast, discarded. She shrugged off the feeling, telling herself not to be silly, it was what she had wanted. She reflected with a strange detachment that not so long ago Sandy having an affair with the maid, let alone leaving her, would have left her prostrate, all her worst feelings about herself confirmed.

The restaurant was filling up with lunchtime customers by the time Harry and Sofia arrived. They both looked serious.

‘Is everything all right?’ she asked them.

‘Yes.’ Harry sat down. ‘Except Sandy was supposed to turn up for a meeting at the embassy this morning, and he never arrived.’

She sighed. ‘I think he’s gone. Cleared out.’ She told them what had happened the night before. ‘Some of the funny things he said make sense now. I think he’s gone off with Pilar.’

‘But where would they go?’ Sofia asked.

‘Lisbon, perhaps,’ Harry said. ‘He told us last night about some committee to help Jewish emigrants from France; they took gold in return for visas to Portugal.’

‘So that was it,’ Barbara said. ‘So that was why he helped them.’