‘Oh. Hmm.’ Apostoli ponders this. ‘Good. Safe in there. Let’s go inside. Zoë will make us coffee.’

They go back inside. Zoë keeps her head bent over the coffee pot. Apostoli seems to be berating her for making Tom sleep in the toilet. ‘It was fine, honestly,’ Tom says, taking out his cigarettes and offering one to Apostoli. ‘Miss Valavani offered to sleep in there herself but I insisted.’

‘Is true?’ Apostoli asks. Zoë is biting her lip.

‘What’s going on in the city?’ Tom says quickly. ‘What are the Germans doing?’

‘Taking over,’ Apostoli says. He slaps his open hand down on the tabletop. ‘But, Kapetanios, you must not worry. I have seen Yiorgos Karatsakis. His colonel says they are going tomorrow morning.’

‘Really?’ Zoë stops stirring the coffee and the briki almost boils over before she catches it.

‘Yes. It is why I have come, Kapetanios. To tell you that Sólon – you remember him? The gendarme? Sólon is going to be escorting this lorry, with the colonel of Yiorgos and his men. They have official passes to travel on to Evvia – you know what it is, Evvia?’

‘An island to the east of here,’ says Tom, who has always liked maps.

‘Exactly. This colonel and his regiment are from Evvia, so they have passes to go home and demobilise. They go to Evvia, they get on a caique …’ He swoops one palm away from the other. ‘To Turkey. With you too, Kapetanios.’

‘It sounds terribly easy,’ says Tom sceptically.

‘Very easy. This colonel’s brother, he owns many caiques. If you are just an ordinary person, very hard. If you are a colonel … easy.’

‘Will it be safe?’ Zoë asks, laying a cup before each of them. She risks a sideways glance at Tom and his heart glows.

‘Safer than staying here,’ Apostoli says, sipping his coffee and wiping his moustache. ‘They are coming from the barracks in Haidari—’

‘North of here,’ Zoë puts in.

‘So they will come down the road that goes past the cemetery, very early in the morning. You will be waiting there.’

‘And we just drive away?’ Tom stubs out his cigarette. Under the table, he feels Zoë’s leg brush against his.

‘Yes. You know, the Germans like Greek soldiers very much, because they make the Italians look stupid. So they are not making difficulties for them, not yet. It won’t be hard to get out of Athens. Out of Greece, I don’t know.’

‘Apostoli …’ Zoë frowns at him.

‘I’m not God, Zozo! The kapetanios is a soldier. He knows about danger.’

‘Here’s to danger,’ Tom says, and raises his coffee cup sardonically. ‘Apostoli, I’m incredibly grateful to you and everybody. But if this scheme is going to put any of you at risk, I’ll just go off on my own. It’s my business, after all. If I was stupid enough to get myself left behind, I ought to be responsible …’