“I don’t know.” She got out and stretched, looking around. “The garage door. That’s what brought it home.”

“The only home for the likes of us is a fortress,” he said, not without bitterness. “Remember the Lindbergh baby? We’ve got it a hundred times worse. Never forget. Never relax. Never be normal.”

“I don’t—” she took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can learn to live like that.”

“Helge—Miriam—” he stopped and looked at her closely, concerned. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

She shook her head wordlessly.

“Really.” He walked around the car to her. “Because you’re not alone. You’re not the only one going through this.”

“It’s—” She paused. “Claustrophobic.” He was standing close to her. She stepped close to him and he opened his arms and embraced her stiffly.

“I’ll help, any way I can,” he murmured. “Any way you want. Just ask, whatever you need.” She could feel his back muscles tense.

She hugged him. Wordless thoughts bubbled and seethed in her mind, seeking expression. “Thank you,” she whispered, “I needed that.” Letting go.

Roland stepped back promptly and turned to the car’s trunk as if nothing had happened. “It’ll all work out; we’ll make sure of it.” He opened the car’s trunk. “Meanwhile, can you help me with these? My, you’ve been busy.”

“I assume we can get it all back?”

“Whatever you can carry,” he said. “Even if it’s just for a minute.”

“Whatever,” she said, bending to take the strain of another of the ubiquitous silvery aluminium wheeled suitcases and her own big case stuffed with shopping.

“Downstairs and across?” he asked.

“Hmm.” She shrugged. “Does the duke expect us to dine with him tonight?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

Well, okay, she mused. “Then we don’t need to go back immediately.”

“Mm.” He opened the lift gates. “I’m afraid we do; we’ve got to keep the post moving, you see. Two trips a day, five days on and five days off. It’s the rules.” He waved her into the lift and they stood together as it began to descend.

“Oh, well.” She nodded. “I suppose…”

“Would you mind very much if I invited you to dine with me?” he asked in a sudden rush. “Not a formal affair, not at all. If you want someone else around, I’m sure Vincenze is at a loose end…”

She smiled at him uncertainly, surprised at her own reaction. She bit her lip, trying not to seem overeager. “I’d love to dine with you,” she said. “But tonight I’m working. Tomorrow?”

“Okay. If you say so.”

At the bottom of the shaft he led her into the post room. “What’s here?” she asked.

“Well.” He pointed to a yellow square marked on the floor, about three feet by three feet. “Stand there, facing that wall.”