The Apple Spy (2 page)

‘We got a little lost,' the woman said.

But Forres was 25 miles away. Jamie spoke from the side of his mouth. ‘They didn't walk here. A German submarine or seaplane dropped them off. They were rowed ashore in a boat.'

‘You read that stuff in
The Wizard
comic,' I hissed. ‘You think Miss McLennan is a Russian spy and you're the Wolf of Kabul.'

He looked worried. ‘This is serious, sis.'

‘You can't accuse people of being spies without any proof,' I said.

‘But I do have proof,' he murmured. ‘Look at the bottom of the man's trouser legs.'

 

Chapter 4

Butcher and baker

‘They're wet,' I said quietly.

‘They are…and it's a dry day,' he muttered. ‘Look just below the knees where the water has started to dry.'

‘There's a ring of white,' I said and started to understand. Jamie may be a clever detective but I'm not stupid. ‘Wet with salt water…sea water.'

Jamie gave a small smile. ‘They've stepped out of the sea. The woman's shoes are covered in salt too. A submarine or a seaplane put them in a rowing boat. They rowed to the beach but had to jump into the water and walk the last few yards when the boat hit the bottom.'

‘But they weren't sure where they'd landed so they had to ask,' I said. ‘Spies.' I leaned closer to my brother and whispered, ‘What are we going to do?'

‘Run and get the Home Guard and the police,' he said.

I turned and raced through the entrance to the station. I sped along Station Road and turned into the High Street. As I reached the little police box I saw Constable Grieve coming out. I snatched at his sleeve and babbled my story. ‘…and the express leaves at ten.'

If Constable Grieve had ever done any running it had been thirty years ago. But now he shuffled into a trot like a rhino and still found enough breath to blow his whistle. ‘Home Guard…bring your rifles…get to the station…German spies…'

Mr McKenzie the grocer said, ‘I'll just get my uniform on.'

‘No time,' I said. ‘They'll be on the express train at ten. Just bring your rifle.'

He vanished into the shop and came out a moment later, running up Station Road in his white apron. He was joined by Mr Mackay the butcher in his navy apron with white stripes and crimson blood, and Mr Bell the Baker, who always sounded like a man on a
Happy Families
card to me.

We could see the express steaming along the coast line. The men struggled to load their rifles as they ran. They dashed through the station entrance and by the time I got there the foreign couple had their hands in the air and three rifles were pointed at their heads.

Constable Grieve was gasping for breath, wheezing like the express train that was huffing down the line. The policeman couldn't speak. So I spoke for him. ‘We arrest you in the name of the law.'

Jamie grinned at me. ‘I've always wanted to say that.'

We were so pleased with ourselves. We would be on the newsreel at Buckie cinema next week. We had saved Britain from these evil Nazi spies, I thought.

But I was wrong.

 

Chapter 5

Smoke and signals

As the two spies were led away the express train hissed, clanked, roared, spat, screeched, shuddered, groaned and rumbled its way to the platform in a cloud of steam and smoke.

Constable Grieve would call the army to take the foreign couple away and question them. I didn't follow. I looked down the platform as the train crunched to a halt. No one got off the train today – not many people came to Portgordon. The train guard stepped off the last coach with whistles and flags.

The sea breeze blew away the steam cloud and I saw something that made my heart stop as still as the train. A man was walking along the track towards the train. He walked up the ramp at the end of the platform, opened a carriage door and climbed in.

He was thirty yards away from me but I was sure I had seen the white salt-stains on his trousers.

‘Jamie!' I cried after my brother who was following the arrested spies. At that moment the engine gave off a whistle to warn everyone to stand clear.

‘Jamie!' But the screaming of the slipping wheels drowned my voice.

The guard folded the green flag he'd been waving and climbed aboard the guard van at the end. The train began to move. I ran alongside, tore open a carriage door and pulled myself in.

They say that twins can ‘talk' without speaking. They send invisible messages from their brains – a bit like wireless waves. Jamie swears he didn't hear me cry out. Yet he had stopped and turned around at the station entrance to look for me. He ran back just in time to see me jump on board.

He didn't know where I was going or why. I didn't even know that myself. But he ran alongside the train and caught it as the guard's van at the end went past. There was no door to open on the van platform. Just a handrail. My brother caught hold and the speed lifted him off his feet.

I leaned out and watched as he fell back. His feet struck the last few inches of Portgordon platform and he seemed to bounce up like a ball. The wind dragged at him and pulled him backwards, his grip slipping off the rail. The engine rushed past the signal tower at the side of the track. If Jamie's struggling body hit that he'd be crushed. If he let go he'd fall under the back wheels of the van.

Then I saw a large hand reach from the van and grasp Jamie's arm. The guard gave a strong tug and Jamie was pulled to safety a moment before the van reached the signal tower.

If he'd been killed with that crazy jump it would have served him right. But I was still pleased to know I wasn't alone on the train.

I just didn't know what to do next.

 

Chapter 6

Tickets and tracks

I knew I had to follow the man with the sea-water legs. He had to be a spy like the other two. I had to find him then tell someone.

The express train had ten carriages with a corridor that ran from the engine at the front to the guard's van at the back. Every carriage had about twenty compartments with six seats in each.

The first thing I had to do was find the spy. He couldn't escape until the train stopped. Then I'd have the railway police – and Jamie – to help me. I wasn't afraid. I should have been.

I decided to start at the front. I stared into each compartment. Some were empty and some held one, two or three people. The spy wasn't in the first carriage.

In the second carriage I saw the third compartment was crowded with a mother and five noisy children. I smiled. That solved one problem.

A ticket collector walked down the corridor towards me. ‘Tickets from Portgordon,' he cried.

I smiled at him sweetly. ‘I'm with my family in the third compartment. Mummy showed you our tickets before.' He nodded and walked on.

I found the spy in the last carriage before the guard's van. It was the carriage he'd jumped into at Portgordon. He hadn't bothered to walk through the train. He hadn't tried to hide.

He had fair wavy hair over a handsome face. He had taken off his shoes and rested them against the heater pipe that ran below the window. Suddenly the man looked up, saw me watching him and smiled.

The train rattled over the rails with a clickety-clack like a drum beat. I looked out of the window and watched the fields and the villages rush past while the distant purple mountains and moorlands sat quietly in the morning sun.