“You need to get—” A deafening whistle drowned out the end of Polly’s sentence. Another bomb, he thought, and then realized it was a train.

He glanced at his watch: 8:33. The train from Oxford. “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said. A train’s coming in.”

“I said, get out of there now,” Polly said urgently. “If Tensing’s thinking of offering you a job, he may already be doing a background check and have realized you’re not who you say you are. You can’t take the risk of running into him and—” There was a screech, and the line went dead.

“Polly?” he said. “Polly?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the operator said. “There’s a disruption on the line. I can attempt to reconnect you, if you like.”

But if the disruption was a bomb, the lines might not be repaired for days, and Mike was just as glad. If he talked to Polly again, she’d just insist he get out, and she was right, he had to, but there was no need to do it tonight. Tensing wouldn’t be back before tomorrow at the earliest, and he didn’t know where Mike was living. And since Mike hadn’t got his room through the billeting office, it would take Tensing a while to find him, and by the time he’d tried the pub and then the hotels, Mike would have found out whether Phipps was in Little Howard. “Thanks, I’ll try later,” he told the operator, hung up, and stepped out of the phone booth.

The train had apparently arrived. Passengers were coming along the platform. An elderly army officer, two Wrens, a—

Jesus, it was Ferguson, and, just stepping down from the train after him, was Tensing. They hadn’t looked this way yet. Instinctively, Mike ducked back into the phone booth, but he was still afraid he might be recognized. There wasn’t enough time for him to hobble across the station and out the door before they saw him, so he lurched through the other door to the deserted eastbound platform, and all the way down to the end of it, listening for pursuing footsteps and trying to think what to do.

Polly was right—he needed to get out right now. But not on this train. With his luck, Tensing would have left his hat on it or something and come back to catch him in the act of leaving. He’d have to take the next one. It wasn’t till 11:10, but he’d still better stay here. If he tried to go back to Mrs. Jolsom’s for his bag, he was liable to run straight into Tensing. Or Dilly’s girls. He needed to sit right here, out of sight.

But if he didn’t go collect his bag and Tensing did manage to find out where he’d been staying, his suddenly disappearing and leaving his luggage behind would look wildly suspicious, and Mrs. Jolsom was bound to tell him. And if Tensing concluded he was a spy, that would do as much or more damage as his being caught by Tensing and offered a job. And even if Tensing was suspicious of him and that was why he’d come back early, he wouldn’t go to Mrs. Jolsom’s. He’d try the pub first—and the hotels, and by the time he got around to knocking on boardinghouse doors, Mike would be long gone.