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.“The Central Line trains aren’t running.”“What about the Bakerloo Line?” Polly asked.The woman shrugged.“No idea, dearie.”“We’ll have to go back upstairs,” Polly told Michael and Merope.If they could get there, if they could even get out of this entryway and into the tunnel—“There’s a space!” Merope cried and, before Polly could stop her, ran out onto the platform.When Polly and Michael caught up to her, she was standing happily on a blue blanket held down at each corner by a shoe.“We can’t sit here,” Polly said, remembering that first night at St.George’s when she’d got in trouble with everyone for—The troupe.She’d completely forgotten about them.When she didn’t come, they’d think something had happened to her, and Sir Godfrey would—“Why can’t we sit here?” Merope said.“Whoever was sitting on it before has gone off to the canteen or the loo or something, and it’ll take them hours to get back in this crowd.”“And this is as good a place to talk as we’re going to get,” Michael said.He was right.The people on both sides were deep in conversation and didn’t even notice when Merope sat down on the blanket and curled her legs up under her.Mike eased himself down, putting his hand on her shoulder for support, and wincing as he crossed his legs.“Now,” he said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “I want to hear about your drop, Polly.Why isn’t it—?”Merope cut in, “No, first you must tell us what happened to your foot.What were you doing at Dunkirk? I thought you were going to Dover.”“I was,” he said, “but I came through on a beach thirty miles south of it—”Oh, thank God.His drop wasn’t in Dunkirk.It was on this side of the Atlantic.“—and before I could get to Dover I was shanghaied—”“Shanghaied?”“It’s a long story.Anyway, I ended up taking part in the evacuation from Dunkirk, where I got this.” He pointed at his foot.“They did surgery and managed to save it, but the tendons are damaged, which is why I’ve got the limp.”“But why didn’t you go back to Oxford to have it repaired?” Merope asked.“I told you, I can’t get to my drop.”“Why not?” Polly asked.“Is the beach patrolled?” If that was the only problem, the three of them should be able to come up with some way to distract the guard.“No, it doesn’t have to be.There’s an artillery gun emplacement right on top of the drop site.”Which will be there till the end of the war, Polly thought.“But then why didn’t they send a retrieval team for you?” Merope whispered.“They may have and couldn’t find me.I was unconscious when I was brought in and didn’t have any papers on me, so the hospital didn’t know who I was, and before I could tell them I was moved to Orpington.”Polly looked up at him.“Orpington?”“Yeah, it’s in southeast London.They’d never have thought to look for me there.Listen, we can discuss what happened to me later.” He lowered his voice.“Right now we need to figure out what to do about a drop.Polly, are you sure yours isn’t working?”“Yes.” She told them about the incident.“Blast can do odd things,” Michael agreed.“I know that from my prep.It can kill people without leaving a mark on them.Which leaves yours, Merope,” he said, turning to her.“What did you mean when you said you can’t get to your drop either? And please don’t say there’s an artillery gun on it.”“No, but the military’s taken over the manor for a riflery school.”“Was the drop on the manor grounds?”“No, in the woods, but the Army’s conducting riflery practice in them.”“And they’ve strung barbed wire all round it,” Polly said.Merope looked at her, surprised.“How do you know that?”“I went to Backbury to look for you.That’s where I was the day you came to Townsend Brothers.We just missed each other.”“But why did they say you’d gone to Northumbria? I thought—”“Later,” Michael said impatiently.“Is the fence guarded? Do you think we’d be able to cut through it? Or crawl under?”“Possibly,” Merope said.“But that’s not the only problem.I think my drop must have been somehow damaged, too.It wouldn’t open, even before the Army came.After the quarantine, I tried to go through over a dozen times, but—”“After the quarantine?” Michael said.“Yes, my assignment was supposed to be over the second of May, but Alf got the measles, and the manor was quarantined for nearly three months—”Her assignment had ended the second of May? Polly’d assumed it had ended when the Army took over the manor.“When did you leave the manor?” she asked.“The ninth of September.”May second to September ninth.That was four months.She’d been at the manor for four months after her assignment had ended.“And no retrieval team came for you?” Michael asked.“No, unless they came while we were quarantined and Samuels wouldn’t let them in.”But even if they’d been unable to get to her during the quarantine—and surely they could have managed that—they’d had more than a month after that to pull her out, and there wasn’t the excuse of their not knowing where Merope was, as there was with her and Michael.Oxford had known exactly where to find her.But it wasn’t just that.Mr
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