“But we could be here for ages,” she said, her eyes looking straight into his.

“I know,” said Lockhart, chewing his lip. “I was rather hoping we’d be able to get back home soon—I’m bloody starving.”

They were both thinking on their feet, hoping desperately that the other would come up with an idea. They both knew that if they got off the train, that would attract attention. But they also knew that if they stayed, they might be caught. They both knew that the woman in the scarf could have been a traitor, or been captured and opened her mouth. It was Lockhart who broke their silence.

“Well, darling,” he said, “I don’t know about you, but if I stand here any longer my bladder will burst.”

Leni laughed, but her expression was one of “can’t you do better than that?” In truth, he couldn’t. It was the only near-innocent reason he could think of for getting off the train. But he couldn’t abandon her.

“Do you need to go as well?” he asked. His tone was gentle, quiet, that of the thoughtful lover. Nothing would have been worse than booming out such a commonplace question.

“I’d like to,” she said fiercely, obviously not finding the idea attractive, “but I think we might lose our places. You go. I’ll wait. We women are better at doing so.”

Lockhart turned to the passenger next to him—a middle-aged man who was sweating keenly.

“Sir, you wouldn’t mind making sure that we don’t lose our places?” Lockhart asked. “I would be very grateful.”

“Not at all! And perhaps you could go for me while you’re there!”

The man laughed heartily, as if he was the first to make such a joke. Lockhart joined in the laughter.

“I’ll do that for you!”

“I’ll tell you what,” said the man, “I wouldn’t mind borrowing your newspaper whilst you’re there.”

Lockhart froze. He could think of no reason why he should not temporarily surrender the paper. Leni coughed.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Yes, dear?” said Lockhart.

“Well, it’s a little embarrassing…”

“Yes?”

“Well, I think I do need to go, and, uh, the lavatories often have a shortage, you know, a shortage of paper….”

Lockhart shut his eyes in relief. The woman was a genius.

“Forgive me, Fräulein!” said the man, raising his hat. “I quite understand what you’re saying!”

“I’m sorry,” said Leni, nodding her head from side to side like a bashful schoolgirl. “You know how it is.”

“Quite so! My wife and I sometimes have to do the same at home!”

“So, shall we go then?”

“Yes,” said Leni.

With a plethora of “sorrys” and “thank yous,” Lockhart and Leni managed to wheedle themselves through their fellow passengers. The most risky moment would be when they were on the platform. If the SS officer was looking in their direction, well, they would just have to run.