Cilla hefted up her chin. “I’ll express my outrage that Jericho violated procedure. He didn’t come to the proper meeting place and didn’t check for a red ribbon.”
“Aye,” Lachlan said. “She’ll say she’s worried because the police have his description, and Jericho has proven himself indiscreet.”
“Very.” Cilla put one hand on her hip. “I’ll say we’re continuing with the sabotage anyway. Fergus’s friend figured out the explosives. And please, Herr Hauptmann, do not send another incompetent to endanger my work.”
“Excellent,” Yardley said. “You two thought this through.”
“Didn’t I say so?” She raised her sweetest smile and set the notepad before him. “Here’s the text. We kept it concise, but I still have plenty of time to encipher it.”
“Very good.” Yardley leaned over the notepad, pen in hand.
Lachlan’s forehead furrowed. “Do you think they’ll send another agent?”
“They may.” Yardley crossed out a word. “Especially if they doubt Cilla’s story.”
“Would it be wise to keep Cilla under guard again?” Lachlan shot her an apologetic look.
“It’s all right.” She gave him a soft smile. “Not because you don’t trust me. For my protection.”
Lachlan’s eyes drooped. “Aye.”
“It would be wise.” Yardley scribbled something on the notepad. “For the time being, you’re not to leave Dunnet Head unless in the company of Mackenzie, one of the Wrens, or me. Carry your revolver, Mackenzie.”
“Aye, sir.”
Trapped again. And yet free.
38
Creag na Mara
Sunday, April 5, 1942
Mother passed a plate around the table. “Hot cross scones instead of hot cross buns this Easter, but we’ll make do.”
“They look grand.” Lachlan took a square scone, marked with an icing cross.
“So clever, Mrs. Mackenzie.” Sitting to Lachlan’s left, Cilla wore her yellow floral dress and a sunny smile to match, despite the chaos of the past few days. “No eggs in scones, yes?”
“Aye, and I saved up butter and sugar rations. I even found sultanas in the pantry.”
Cilla took a bite of the scone. “Delicious.”
Lachlan resisted the urge to squeeze her hand, to embrace her and swing her in circles to make her laugh. Yesterday had been sweeter than great heaps of icing. And it could never be repeated.
Father brushed crumbs from his fingers. “Did you hear? They caught a German spy in Thurso yesterday. Everyone was talking about it at church this morn.”
Across the table, Neil locked his gaze on Lachlan. “I heard.”
“Dreadful.” Mother’s shoulders shuddered. “Can you imagine having a spy so close to Scapa Flow?”
“And to the airfields in Caithness,” Cilla said. “And Dunnet Head. So dangerous.”
Lachlan took a large bite of scone so he couldn’t talk. He’d spent the past year imagining the danger of a spy in the area.
“They caught him.” Father gave a firm nod. “Hitler will think twice about sending another spy.”
“I hope so.” Cilla’s voice wavered. Then she shook herself and smiled. “Thank you for including me in your Scottish Easter. Isn’t it fascinating? We all celebrate the same holiday but in different ways.” She went on to describe Dutch traditions including a bread calledPaasbroodand willow branches decorated with tiny wooden eggs and animals.
