‘You said, Mr Hawke, that you doubted there was much one could do regarding the way the country is going.’ He coughed and paused as he considered what he was about to say. ‘There are those of us who take the view that that is not necessarily the case. We have long believed that this country has been perhaps… misguided in the allegiances it formed and in whom it sought to protect and those it chose to oppose.’

He paused and turned round to the woman, who said nothing but nodded: carry on.

‘A number of us are seeking to support those in Europe who may have hitherto been seen as the enemy but who we regard as the last defenders of Christian Europe against the communists – and the Jews, of course.’

The room dropped into silence and Anthony Hawke half nodded.

‘Support them in what way, Bourne?’

‘Perhaps I could explain.’ The woman had uncrossed her legs and was smoothing her skirt. ‘What Charles is trying to say is that there are Germans who are being hunted as war criminals when they did no more than fight for their country. We are of the view that these people are in the vanguard of defending Europe’s traditional values. To this end, a number of them are seeking to assume new identities and leave Europe, so that they are in a position to resume their cause. We are assisting one particular group in a practical manner, specifically by providing funds to enable their passage. There are also people in this country we wish to send on the same… route.’

Anthony Hawke nodded, trying to appear impassive. ‘I despise this government and I had considerable doubts about the course and aims of the war, but I’m a patriot – I’m not a Nazi, you know!’

‘But don’t you think, sir,’ Bourne looked down as he spoke, ‘that the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’

‘So are you asking me for money?’

Bourne turned to the woman again, who said that indeed, anything would be most appreciated.

Hawke removed the chequebook from his jacket pocket again. ‘I wouldn’t want to be… embarrassed by this.’

‘Of course not, sir: what we can do is treat it as a purchase. We have some Victorian sketches of doubtful provenance that are really worth very little, but it would ensure everything appears above board. May I ask how much you intend to give?’

‘Twenty-five pounds is what I had in mind.’

‘That is most generous, sir, thank you very much.’

‘How do you get the money over to the Continent?’ Hawke was looking down at the chequebook as he spoke. ‘I don’t imagine you send them cheques, eh?’

‘Strictly cash,’ said the woman. ‘We send it by courier. We had one courier who went out a few weeks ago, and there’s another we hope to send soon.’

‘Yes,’ said Bourne, chuckling. ‘Killing two birds with one stone!’

The woman coughed, and when Sir Roland looked up, he noticed a furious look on her face.