Her pretty vixen’s face lit again as she struck another match and touched the flame to a cigarette. She vanished into the dark once more as the match went out. She took a quiet drag on her cigarette; the red glow of its burning tip wasn’t enough to light her face.

“I was in the bathroom, not sneaking around in the dark!” I objected. “And you had your light on before, which anyone could see from ten miles away,” I added in accusation. “There was a Luftwaffe bomber out there!”

She made an alarmed noise like a cat’s hiss.

“I heard the engines,” she whispered. “I thought it was our own planes coming back! I knew the Blenheims were circling, and I thought they couldn’t land because of the fog! I put on the light for them, not for the Luftwaffe—it’s terrible, waiting on the ground and not being able to help!”

“It was jolly careless of you if you’re working for Intelligence!”

“I know it. Cromwell chewed me out on the telephone and said he’d report me.” I heard her give a sharp, snorting sigh through her nose. “I’m sorry. But I thought if they could see my light, they’d know which way to come in. I had to do it.”

“I know,” I said. I understood why. “You’re Jamie’s sister.”

She was silent for a moment.

I added quickly, “Don’t tell me your real name. I don’t want to use it by accident.”

“I wasn’t going to.” She drew on her cigarette. It glowed red and faded again before she asked, “What gave me away?”

“Ellen told me.”

“Thank heavens you didn’t work it out yourself,” she said. “It’s hell not being able to speak to Jamie in case someone notices the family resemblance. It’s such a stupid charade, trying to keep the Germans happy, when they won’t tell me anything anyway. Although I suppose it is good practice.”

Miss Lind lit another match. She cupped it in her hands, holding the cigarette between her fingers, and came the rest of the way up the stairs. She sat down beside me on the top step before the match went out. I felt her shuffling about in the dark as she reached into the pocket of her silk dressing gown. “Would you like a cigarette?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “What were you hunting for downstairs?”

She returned fire just the way she did earlier. “How do you know my light was on?”

Oh, bother. If I’d been in bed when I was supposed to, with our own blackout curtains properly drawn, I shouldn’t have been able to see her window.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” I offered.

“You first, then,” she said.

“I went flying with Jamie.”

She took a deep breath.

“All right.”