And then we, too, fled. We changed into practical travelling clothes, packed a few essentials and set off for the docks.
It didn’t strike me at the time, but Lady Hardcastle didn’t grieve. Not then anyway. There was much to be done and the safety of others (even though it was only me and Mrs Lee) to consider. She just seemed to push the grief to one side while she got on with more pressing matters. It came out eventually, of course, and nearly destroyed her, but for now there was no sign that she had lost the love of her life.
I was devastated and frightened, but not as frightened as I was about to be – the next two days were among the most terrifying of my life. There were near riots in the streets as armed Boxers went from house to house rounding up Europeans. They were happy enough to leave the docks alone, content that we were leaving the country, but for us there were other problems. We had struggled to make contact with British representatives, the majority of whom were trapped in the Consulate, but the trouble came from the German intelligence service. Ehrlichmann’s death had been discovered and investigated when he had failed to return, and we soon learned that they had a reasonably good idea who to blame.
Whenever we tried to book ourselves a passage out of Shanghai we found ourselves dogged by German agents and eventually we came to the horrifying realization that nowhere in Shanghai was safe.
Under cover of darkness, we fled inland.
I, for one, slept uneasily knowing that the man we were all assuming was Ehrlichmann was back in London. How good was his information? Did he know Lady Hardcastle had a brother? Did he know that that’s where we’d go?
I finally gave up the unequal struggle against wakefulness and got up from my troubled dozing not long after dawn. I dressed quickly and went through to the tiny kitchen to make myself some tea.
Harry’s “housekeeper” had been in while we were out the day before and there were eggs, bacon, cheese and butter in the little larder so that I knew that by the time the milkman had been, there would be plenty for breakfast. There was almost no bread left, and it was stale anyway, but that was all right because I knew where the baker’s was now and could pop out for a fresh loaf before the others were up.
Still feeling jumpy and paranoid, I took the precaution of having a quick butcher’s through the curtains before I went out, just to get the lie of the land. London was coming alive, and a coalman’s cart was already clattering along the street. I could see the milkman carrying his cans a few doors down, while a well-dressed man in early middle age, carrying a furled umbrella and briefcase – the sword and shield of our modern age – hurried towards the tube station.
It all seemed perfectly normal and perfectly safe, until the young loafer who had been leaning against the lamppost opposite the building, looked up. And by “looked up”, I actually mean “looked directly at the window I was looking out of”. I had barely cracked the curtains, only enough to take a look at the street, yet he most definitely saw me. He gave an impudent grin and an ironic salute and sauntered off.
I woke Lady Hardcastle.
‘I’m so sorry to wake you, my lady,’ I said as she struggled to wakefulness. ‘We’re being watched.’
‘Watched?’ she mumbled. ‘By whom?’
‘By a young lad in the street. He’s gone now.’
‘Blast and bother,’ she said, finally becoming fully alert. ‘Harry!’ she yelled. ‘Get up!’
There was grumbling and mumbling from the next bedroom, followed by a thud, a crash and an extremely colourful oath. Harry appeared at the bedroom door, tying the cord on his dressing gown.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘The flat is being watched, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
Harry sighed. ‘I know.’
‘You know?’
‘Yes, Sis, they’re my men. Or “our” men. I got some security chaps from the FO to keep an eye on the place for us.’
‘Oh,’ said Lady Hardcastle and I together.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I thought…’
‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry,’ said Harry. ‘I should remember that you two are in the game.’
Lady Hardcastle chuckled. ‘Sometimes I wonder if our lives might be simpler if we were on the game. But do try to keep us informed, Harry dear. Flo might have hurt the poor lad if he’d spooked her.’
‘Little chap?’ said Harry. ‘About five-foot-three in his socks? Tatty cap, cheeky grin?’
‘That’s him,’ I said. ‘You put your best man on the job, then? Someone who could really look after us?’
Harry smiled. ‘You of all people should know better than to judge a chap’s abilities from his size. Yes, Eric is one of our best men. Observant, bright, quick-witted, light on his feet and absolutely terrifying in a close-quarter scuffle. He’s you in breeches, Strong-Arm.’
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘But he’s not quite the steadfast and true-type. He took one look at me and strolled off.’
Harry let out a little snort of a laugh. ‘Just ringing the changes, I expect. There will be three of them working shifts. Don’t want to spook the natives by having idlers hanging about the street all day.’
‘So I’m safe to go to the baker’s then?’ I said.
‘My dearest Strong-Arm, I suspect you’d be safe walking through the darkest alleys of Limehouse with five-pound notes pinned to your hat.’
‘Don’t do that, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘But do please nip out and fetch us some bread. There’s something about not sleeping that makes me really very hungry indeed. Is there any chance of a cup of tea before you go?’
‘There’s some in the pot, my lady,’ I said.
‘I’ll get it,’ said Harry. ‘You just get the bread and try not to hospitalize any of our men on the way.’
The trip to the baker’s was thoroughly uneventful and I believe I clocked Eric’s replacement reading a newspaper on the street corner. Now I knew that these idlers were on the side of the angels, I felt just that tiny bit safer in Harry’s flat.
Breakfast was as magnificent as breakfast in a bachelor’s flat can be, and we were onto extra toast and a third pot of tea when the doorbell rang. Harry went to answer it and returned a few moments later with a large envelope.
‘What have you got there, brother dear?’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘Treasure,’ he said.
‘It’s awfully thin treasure, sweetheart. Don’t you have anything more substantial?’
‘This is quite substantial enough, old girl,’ he said, carefully opening the flap. ‘I contacted one of our chaps in Berlin to get the lowdown on Ehrlichmann.’
‘I thought Sir David was one of your chaps,’ I said. ‘I thought he was researching Ehrlichmann.’
‘He’s Home Office, old thing, different department. He just expressed an interest in your case one day and offered to help. I’m never one to turn down an ally, and it never hurts to make new acquaintances in Whitehall.’