And if you didn’t get them out, you didn’t get them out, and seeing Eileen—or not seeing her—doesn’t change whether she’s here or not, whether you’re going to be able to reach Atherton or not. It’s already happened.

But he couldn’t rid himself of the idea that now, at the very last minute, this close to contacting Atherton, he’d ruin things by catching sight of her stepping off a bus or coming down the street in her green coat, and it was a huge relief to turn down the road to the palace, to pull up to the gates.

The guard looked at their papers and said, “If you’ll just pull in there, sir, behind that staff car.” He indicated the last car in a long line stretching all the way to the palace.

“Our passenger’s ill. He can’t possibly walk that far,” Ernest said. “We need to take him to the door.”

After examining their papers again and looking in the backseat at the colonel, the guard waved them on, but Ernest wasn’t sure they’d make it through the already-parked staff cars and Rolls-Royces. It was like threading a needle. This is where Churchill or Patton steps out suddenly in front of me and I run over him, he thought, but they made it safely up to the palace.

He pulled the car up to the foot of the stairs, got out, and came around to help the colonel out of the car. It took both of them. Ernest had to hold him up, while Cess got his suitcase out and shut the car door.

“I’m sorry to cause so much trouble,” the colonel said to Ernest, and he felt a sudden pang of pity for him.

You’re going to cause them to lose the war, he thought, and not even know it.

“Sorry, sir, but you can’t park there,” a regimental guard said, hurrying up. “You’ll have to move your car.”

“It’s only till we can get the colonel inside,” he said.

“This is Colonel von Sprecht,” Cess said, holding out their papers. “We’ve just brought him all the way from Dover. We have orders to deliver him directly to General Moreland.” But the guard was shaking his head.

“Sorry, sir. You can’t leave your car here.”

“Well, then, at least let me run inside and fetch someone to assist Lieutenant Wilkerson,” Ernest said. “The colonel can’t make it up those stairs without assistance.”

“I can’t let you do that, sir. Captain’s orders. You must move it now.”

“I want to speak to the captain—” Ernest began, but Cess shook his head.

“We can’t stand here arguing,” he said. “I can manage the colonel.” He draped the colonel’s arm around his shoulder. “You go park the car, Lieutenant Abbott.”

“But—” Ernest began, and Cess nodded toward the top of the steps, where two officers were hurrying down to help. Good. “Where do you want me to park?” he asked the guard.

“At the end of this road,” he said, pointing, but that end of the narrow lane was packed with cars, too, some with young women in FANY and ATS uniforms at the wheel, waiting for the generals they’d delivered.