Wilde slid from the bunk. He took a quick look at Klara and Sunny on their own beds and was pleased to see that they were still fast asleep. On the floor, their full buckets slid back and forth, slopping with the movement of the ship. He followed the trawlerman from the cabin, ducking as he exited, and soon found himself back in the wheelhouse with Captain Schmidt. There was now a little light, and he was able to see that Schmidt was bearded and almost bald on top. A cigarette protruded from the side of his mouth as he peered out into the blackness, keeping one eye on the compass.

‘Ah,’ Schmidt said, ‘You are awake, Herr . . . what do I call you? It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know your name. Have you slept well?’

‘Yes.’

‘And were you very sick?’

‘No, but my friends were.’

‘Then you must be hungry. Potato soup? Bacon and eggs? Bread and cheese?’

‘I like the sound of bacon and eggs.’

‘Then that is what you shall have. Coffee, too?’

‘Black coffee, no sugar, please.’

‘Good, good. A man after my own heart. Now then, we haven’t yet discussed what I am to do with you. All Frau Somerfeld said was Sweden. My initial thought was to take you to Malmo because it is closest, but then I began to worry about the German navy. They defend the Öresund heavily to prevent British shipping entering the Baltic and we would most certainly have to undergo a search. So I have altered course and I am taking you further north along the eastern Swedish coast. The question is, how far do we go? Do you have any thoughts about this coastline – where you wish to be landed? Stockholm is a long way still.’

‘I don’t know Sweden, but I guess we have to get to Stockholm one way or another. Either by sea or land.’

‘Perhaps that is best then, but the longer I am at sea the more concerned I become. For the moment, come to my cabin. I will have food and coffee brought to us.’

*

The food was swimming in grease, but Wilde ate it all with relish and mopped up the plate with a hunk of fresh bread. Schmidt offered him some nameless alcoholic spirit to go with his coffee, and Wilde gladly accepted. He was feeling a lot better about life, and for the first time since arriving at Tempelhof airport was finding himself at ease with the German language.

‘I owe you a great debt for all you have done for us, skipper,’ he said.

‘Don’t worry about that. It is all being taken care of by Frau Somerfeld.’

Did he mean money? Was Sunny having to pay for this journey?

‘But you are taking a huge risk on our behalf.’