The train left Belthorp station at eleven twenty-five. It consisted of only two carriages. Even so, it was almost empty.
Stella gave Nesta the window seat and for a while they travelled in silence, neither quite knowing what to say. Fields passed, sloping up from the railway cutting. Then on the horizon they saw a stone-built farmhouse.
‘I often think,’ said Stella, ‘when I pass a house like that, all on its own, that inside there are people living lives I’ll never know anything about. I won’t even know their name. The world is a very private place, unless you are famous.’
‘Would you like to be famous?’ said Nesta.
‘Probably not,’ said Stella, smiling. ‘I suppose it would depend upon what I was famous for. Mostly people are happier getting on with their lives and remaining anonymous.’
‘You weren’t anonymous when that article was in the paper.’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ said Stella ruefully. ‘I was asked lots of questions by people I didn’t really take to. You will be asked questions when you get home. My guess is that the police will want to know where you have been, not just your parents. So listen to me very carefully. You must say nothing about knowing me. No connection must be made between Thomas Derwent and yourself. I am the only link. If you are stuck for an answer, refuse to speak. Your mum and dad will back you up. They have a secret they wish to share with nobody on Earth. You must help guard that secret.’
‘I told you the secret,’ said Nesta, shame-faced.
‘You didn’t. You couldn’t tell me what I knew already. I loved the family that came to me from Ormingat. That alone is enough to ensure my silence.’
Nesta looked at her in puzzlement.
‘Are you not curious? I mean, do you not wonder?’ she said, not quite knowing how to put the question. But Stella knew, and Stella knew the answer.
‘We are all visitors to this Earth,’ she said. ‘We won’t any of us live here for ever. I can be filled with amazement and find myself puzzling as to what the truth can be. But I don’t expect to know all the answers. Sharing my world with Patrick and Thomas was a privilege. Knowing and helping you is another gift of fate.’
The train halted at Chamfort. An old man got on and sat in the seat behind them. With a whole carriage to choose from, he decided to sit within hearing distance of two other passengers. At least it felt like hearing distance and it made Stella and Nesta fall silent again.
At Casselton, Stella bought herself a return ticket for York. Nesta still had her own ticket tucked safely in the pocket of the fleece jacket.
As Stella came away from the ticket office, she suddenly thought of telephoning Nesta’s parents again. But then she felt it might not be safe. They knew enough already. Police might be hovering by.
‘Can I make a phone call?’ said Nesta.
‘Better not,’ said Stella. ‘Your parents know which train you are on. I’d have phoned them if there had been any complications, but so far so good. We want to take as few risks as possible.’
‘It’s not Mom and Dad I want to phone,’ said Nesta. ‘I’d like to ring Amy and tell her I’m on my way back.’
‘That’s not possible either,’ said Stella. ‘I know that Amy was good to you, but if you rang her home it is very likely that one of her parents would answer. They would ask questions that might cause trouble for both of you. You’ll just have to wait till you’re safely back home.’
The York train was twenty minutes late, but otherwise the journey from Casselton was uneventful. An unexpected halt south of Darlington set the train back a further twenty minutes.
Nesta looked out of the window anxiously.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Stella. ‘They’ll know how late the train is at York. The time goes up on the notice board.’
When at length the train was about to draw into York station, Stella got up from her seat, bent over and kissed Nesta’s brow and said quietly, ‘Now I am going along to another carriage. I’ll be getting off to take the train back to Casselton, but we must not be seen together. I’ll watch from a distance, in case of difficulties. But I am absolutely sure there won’t be any.’
‘Does that mean I’ll never see you again?’ said Nesta. ‘I’d love you to meet my parents. You really have been very good to me.’
Stella heard the regret in Nesta’s voice. She felt regret herself, even though she had known the girl for such a short time.
‘Perhaps we could write to each other,’ said Nesta.
‘For the foreseeable future, even that wouldn’t be wise,’ said Stella. ‘You have to realize just how dangerous that could be. Take my word for it, there are definitely people on this Earth who would give none of us any peace if they had the slightest suspicion of the truth. I wouldn’t want you to have people like Rupert Shawcross pestering you week in week out.’
Nesta still looked regretful.
‘Maybe someday your parents can take a holiday up north,’ said Stella as she prepared to walk down the train, ‘and we can meet, by chance, and become acquainted as if we had never met before. But that couldn’t be this year, or even next. The risk is too great.’