Eileen was still looking anxious.

“Don’t worry. If the retrieval team’s here, they can go back through to Oxford and get you all the passes and papers you need. Or they may decide it’s easier to set up another drop closer to London. Look, I’ll call you as soon as I know what the plan is.”

“How much money do you think you’ll need?” Polly asked, digging in her shoulder bag. “Never mind. Take this.” She handed him some money.

“What about you two?” he asked.

“I’ve kept back enough for our tube fares, and we’ll be paid the day after tomorrow.”

She handed him a handwritten list. “Here are the raids on London and the southeast for the next week. The Luftwaffe was concentrating mostly on the Midlands and the ports in December, so it’s not a very long list, and I’m sorry I don’t know more about the raids on southeastern England. I didn’t have those implanted. Oh, and when you get to Dover, you need to be especially careful. It was under bombardment for nearly the entire war. The list I made for you only goes to the twentieth. If you think you’ll be gone longer than—”

He shook his head, folded up the paper, and put it in his pocket. “We’ll be back in Oxford long before that.”

“Oh! Wouldn’t it be heaven if we were home by Christmas?” Eileen said rapturously.

“It would,” Mike said, “but first I’ve got to get to Saltram-on-Sea, which means I’ve got to get to Victoria Station before the Underground shuts down. Are there any raids tonight, Polly?”

“Yes,” she said, “but not till 10:45.”

“Then if I want to be out of London before they start, I’d better get going.”

“Do you want us to go with you to Victoria?” Polly asked.

“No, you need to be here where the retrieval team can find you, in case they gave up on me. Is your play group still putting on The Admirable Crichton?”

“No, now we’re in rehearsals for A Christmas Carol.”

“You’d better tell them you can’t do it,” he said.

He gave both of them a peck on the cheek, said, “I’ll call as soon as I know anything,” and took off. If he could get an express to Dover, he could be there by midnight and on the main road to Saltram-on-Sea by dawn and maybe be able to hitch a ride with a farmer heading up the coast early.

But Polly had been right. The trains were jammed, and as the agent informed him when he bought his ticket, military personnel were being given first priority.

“I’m willing to stand in the corridor,” Mike said.

“First priority is standing in the corridor,” the ticket agent said. “I can get you out on the 2:14 Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?”

“Sorry, sir. It’s the best I can do. The holidays, you know. And the war, of course.”

Of course. “You don’t have anything sooner than Tuesday?”

“No, sir. I can get you on the 6:05 to Canterbury tomorrow. You might be able to get a train to Dover from there.” And after Mike had attempted unsuccessfully to buy a ticket off several people in the queue for the 9:38 to Dover, that was what he opted for, a move he regretted almost immediately.