yet. A Senegalese soldier in the marines’ winter uniform paced by, scanning the new arrivals.
Joe hoped that the marines were making the traditional rotation round random parts of the Republic – but the longer he let himself think about it, the more conspicuous it seemed, and the more logical to man the border with regiments who were unlikely to know the people they sometimes had to shoot. The same soldier pulled a pair of boys out of the queue. They hadn’t been talking; he couldn’t tell what they’d done. They were too sensible to argue. All three disappeared into a side office.
At the checkpoint, another soldier looked over Joe’s papers, then asked with a grim politeness to see his letter from de Méritens. Joe kept quiet while it was handed back to another man, with more chevrons on his uniform. Like he’d known they would, they took him aside, but not to the same office as the boys a minute ago. He couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.
‘You’re English,’ the officer said, in that old-fashioned Senegal French that made them all sound so courtly.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Freedman. How long have you been out of indenture?’
‘Two years.’
‘Explain the purpose of your visit again.’
The letter had already explained, but Joe nodded and explained again. Behind him, another soldier was looking through his bag. The lighthouse postcard was hidden in the lining. He couldn’t believe he’d done that. It was beyond stupid to try and get that across the border, and he’d be arrested if anyone found it. That would be possession of a document in handwritten English, which was newspaper and government code for in the Saints. But he still hadn’t been able to throw it away.
‘Is it usual, for an English person to become an electrical engineer?’
Joe arranged his expression into the blandest he could make it. Alice had made him practise questions like this before he left, to make sure he wouldn’t get flustered. He closed his hand round his rosary, to make sure the man had noticed he was wearing one. He had put a Latin bible in his bag, at the top. The soldier behind him had found it, and now he was flicking through to see if anything would fall out.
‘There are plenty of English engineers, sir. Often we begin as welders.’
The officer studied him. His uniform coat had a fur trim. Joe was starting to feel the cold, even inside. ‘Very specific thing, lighthouse engines. What else does the de Méritens workshop make?’
Joe swallowed. It was a famous enough workshop to be common knowledge. ‘Locomotive engines. Artillery.’
‘Are you involved in the production of artillery?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever been?’
‘No,’ he lied. ‘Never.’
The soldier behind him finally finished searching his bag. Joe tried not to look too relieved.
‘Tell me once again about the problem at the lighthouse.’
Joe took a deep, slow breath. ‘The lighthouse is very remote; it’s off the coast of Lewis and Harris, on an island called Eilean Mòr. The lamp has been extinguished. It shouldn’t be, not at this time of year. The locals went out to look. They found that the lighthouse keepers are missing, and that the lamp couldn’t be turned on again. Someone then reported the problem to the Lighthouse Board. The Board administers all the lighthouses in the Republic, but the de Méritens workshop builds all the machinery, so when there’s a technical fault, M. de Méritens sends a mechanic out. In this case, I’m supposed to fix the fault and stay at the lighthouse for the winter, as a temporary keeper.’
‘Surely lighthouse keeping and mechanical work are quite different.’
‘No, sir. All lighthouse keepers are qualified to maintain and repair lighthouse engines, and all of M. de Méritens’ mechanics are qualified lighthouse keepers.’
‘Why aren’t they sending someone local, then? There must be qualified people in Glasgow.’
‘I’m cheaper.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘I’m a freedman, not a citizen. I’m on minimum wage.’
It went on and on, for another three hours and well after he’d lost any hope of getting through. There had been a man who was meant to meet him on the other side, with onward passage arranged on a ship up to the islands, but it was hard to imagine he would have waited so long. The questions stopped and they left Joe alone in the little room. The dark came down and the powerful searchlights came on. He saw one of them swing to the right. Then gunshots. He tried not to think about it.
A new trainload of people arrived. Doctors; the checkpoint soldiers