Schmidt laughed. ‘Fishermen risk their lives every time they go to sea. Anyway, I am told you are an American, so you are not my enemy. Now if you were British or Russian it would be another matter, for then I would have you thrown into the raging sea,’ he added with a grin.

‘You’re right, I am happy to confirm that I am American. Well, half-American, half-Irish.’

‘Then you are a friend of Germany on both sides, and everything is in order.’

Wilde knew very well that it was a lie, that America and Germany were anything but friends and must soon be openly at war, but if Captain Schmidt needed to tell himself that he was engaging in nothing dishonourable or treasonable, then Wilde was more than happy to go along with the pretence.

Hurrying footsteps clanged on the deck above them, then the door burst open and one of the seamen entered the cabin.

‘Skipper, a vessel is approaching, signalling to us that it intends to board, that we must cut our engines.’

‘In this storm? He wants to board us in weather like this?’

‘First mate says it is an E-boat, sir.’

‘God damn it, this is madness.’ He waved the seaman away, then rose from his seat and indicated that Wilde should move, too. ‘I’m afraid this is going to get extremely uncomfortable. Get that drink down you.’

‘E-boat?’

‘Fast attack vessel armed with cannon and torpedoes. At home in rough seas, no chance of outrunning her. We have to get you and the ladies hidden. Come.’

*

Klara and Sunny were bleary eyed, their faces drawn and bloodless, their lips cracked and dry. Hours of vomiting had taken a heavy toll and they were dehydrated and aching. They followed Wilde and the trawlermen down through a hatch into the fo’c’sle, where the crew ate and relaxed, then took them further down into the blackness of the bilges. The sailor flashed his torch around but all they saw was slapping water, rusting iron and old ropes. The stench was terrible – engine oil, rotten fish, salt water. The cold was worse than anything Wilde had ever experienced, a bone-freezing chill that made him gasp.

Klara fell to her knees and retched, but there was nothing left to come up. Sunny knelt at her side, trying to comfort her with an arm about her shoulders, though she looked in no better condition than the child.

‘Is this where we hide?’ Wilde asked.

‘Wait,’ the sailor said. He handed the torch to Wilde, then went forward and prised a metal panel free at one side of the V-shaped bulwark of the bows, pulling it clear to reveal a space. ‘In there.’