“March winds doth blow,” said Elaine.
“Come, let’s walk to the bus stop.”
“I don’t think I have ever been on a bus here.”
“Now’s your chance to mix with the ordinary people, then.”
Steering them to seats at the back of the bus, Maisie looked around and out of the windows, her eyes lingering for a second on each person on the street behind them. There was a street sweeper clad in old corduroy trousers, the fabric distinctive for the way it bagged around his knees. His jacket was patched, and he wore fingerless gloves and a knitted cap. His boots seemed heavy on his feet as he swung his broom back and forth, back and forth, marking the rhythm of his day. She saw shop girls and soldiers, men in suits and women with their coats wrapped around them, scarves pulled up. March winds indeed doth blow, even in Bavaria, thought Maisie, wishing her day could have been so ordinary. A good dose of ordinary would be welcome.
“Before we go any further, Elaine, if you say my name, or refer to me, I am Edwina Donat. Is that clear? Do not expect an explanation—do not think for one moment that this is a game. I want you only to remember that name, and forget that I am Maisie Dobbs.”
“Not Maisie Compton, then, or Mrs. James Compton? And what about Margaret, Lady Compton? I bet I got that wrong—these darn English titles befuddle the little Canadian girl.” Elaine’s voice had an edge to it. “But I would have thought you would be proud to bear your husband’s name.”
Maisie looked at Elaine, aware of the lurching of the bus as it stopped and started and took on new passengers. “I was more than proud to bear my husband’s name, Elaine. But after he died, it was another knife to the heart every time the words left my lips, because he was no longer there.” She looked away for a moment. “Elaine, can you remember anything about the man who—”
She looked around. Other passengers were reading, or just looking out of windows, or chatting to their neighbors. The nearest were some three rows away, out of earshot. “Who did that to your friend?”
“The man was very well covered—a mackintosh, a hat drawn over his eyes, and he had something over his face. He could see, but I would never have been able to identify him.” She bit her lip.
“What is it, Elaine? What is it you’re not telling me?”
Elaine pressed her lips together. “I—I—I cannot tell you, Mai—I mean, Edwina.”
“Elaine, you’ve put me in a difficult position. I just had to listen to you haranguing me for the name I use, when you have no knowledge of the agreement between my husband and myself. Now you give me a fraction of a piece of information. I deserve better—much better.”
“I didn’t stay here in some self-indulgent capacity, you know. I’ve been trying to be of service to Britain.”
“To Britain? How?”
“There’s a man called Mark Scott, an American, and—”
“Mark Scott? Oh, Elaine—of all people . . .” Maisie shook her head, placing a hand on Elaine’s. “Later—tell me in a little while, Elaine, when we are in a more private place. I want to know exactly what you’ve told him. For now, I need to think.”
Maisie knew she had to get Elaine Otterburn out of her hair—and the country—at the earliest opportunity. Relations between Britain and Germany were on an even keel, and aircraft came and went daily between the two countries. Her fear now, though, was that she might have been followed. Being known to have helped the lover of a German SS officer, who would surely be reported missing in the next twenty-four hours, would prevent Maisie claiming Leon Donat, and might well lead to her own detention. She nodded to Elaine to get off the bus at the next stop, exiting by the rear door. She was thankful that more passengers had come on board, rendering their departure harder to observe in the driver’s mirror.
Maisie led the way along the street without any destination in mind. Walking cleared the mind. Walking allowed her to think. She walked faster, as if to marshal her thoughts with the utmost speed.
“Elaine, you have to get out of the country as soon as you can. If you sent a telegram to your father, would he send an aeroplane for you?”
“He might, but that takes time. Perhaps I had better go to the airport and see if I can board a flight for anywhere other than somewhere else in Germany today. I might even be able to hire something small. I can pretty much fly anything, you know.”
“All right. Look, you had better go straightaway. We should part ways now. Go quickly and keep your head down—don’t do anything to attract attention. Do you need any money?”
Elaine shook her head. “No. I’ve plenty.” She held out her hand. “Thank you. I never expected help from you—you were my shot in the dark. The other girls are too silly to know what to do.”