“What now?” spluttered Sid.

“The tea is poisoned!” exclaimed Eric.

The old man looked mightily disappointed and peered at the tea tray. “What about the biscuits?”

“I don’t know! But I wouldn’t touch them either if I were you.”

“Shame! I’m famished! Why are those two old dears trying to kill us?”

“I reckon it’s because we found them hiding here. They are Nazis!”

The man’s eyes widened in horror. “Nazis? In Bognor Regis?”

“Yes!”

“How do you know?”

“I saw one of them give the Heil Hitler salute to a picture of Adolf Hitler.”

“Well, that is a pretty strong sign of being a Nazi – I’ll give you that!”

Gertrude sat up in the pram, and the boy helped get her dry by rubbing her with a towel.

As he did so, the gorilla searched his hair for nits and pulled a few out to eat.

“I never knew I had nits,” remarked the boy.

“Well, don’t knock it! They’re a tasty treat for Gertrude,” replied Sid.

Then his gaze was drawn to something out of the window.

“Hello? What’s this?” he muttered to himself.

Sid got out of bed. A little unsteadily on his tin legs at first, he walked over to the window.

CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!

“What’s what?” asked the boy.

“Come and look! Out at sea. There’s a light! Can you see it?”

By this time, Eric had joined Sid at the window. He followed where the old man was pointing.

Outside, it was growing dark. The sea was still raging in the storm. Huge waves were rolling and breaking, and a mist was swirling. So it was hard to make out much detail, but there was definitely a light flashing on and off at irregular intervals out at sea.

“Is it a ship?” asked Eric.

“It looks too low in the water to be a ship.”

“A submarine?”

“Maybe. But what would a British submarine be doing off the coast of Bognor Regis?”

“What if it isn’t a British submarine?” said the boy. “What if it’s… a Nazi U-boat?”

Just behind him, Eric heard the clinking of crockery.

CHANK! CHUNK!

Gertrude had climbed out of the pram, picked up the teapot and was about to drink from it!

“NOOOO!” cried the boy.

In what felt like slow-motion, Eric leaped through the air…

WHOOSH!

…and snatched the teapot out of the gorilla’s hand.

The hot tea was sprayed across the room.

SPLOSH!

It scorched the carpet.

The heat of the tea couldn’t do that alone. It was clear there was something else in there that was DEADLY!

“It’s burning the carpet!” said the boy, crouching down to inspect the damage.

“That was poison all right,” exclaimed Sid. “Thank goodness Gertrude didn’t have a drop.”

“Let’s get it all out of here right now!” said the boy. “Open the window!”

Sid did so, and Eric took everything left on the tray – the milk, the sugar and the biscuits – and dropped them out.

CLUNK! CLINK! CLATTER!

The gorilla looked most disgruntled. She made a loud moaning noise, as if to say, “SPOILSPORT!”

“HHHAAAWWW!”

“Sorry, old girl!” said Sid.

Leaning out of the window, Eric noticed something. At a window along from theirs, another light was flashing. It must be the twins making contact with whoever was out at sea.

“LOOK! The twins are flashing a light back!”

Sid put his head out of the window and observed the pattern of the flashes.

“It’s Morse code,” he said.

“Dot dash, dot dash and all that?”

“Exactly. They are spelling out words to each other in flashes of light.”

“Do you know what they are saying?”

“Grab me that postcard and pencil on the desk.”

There were a few dog-eared bits of Seaview Towers stationery on the writing desk. Eric hurriedly handed them to the old man.

“I learned Morse code during the First World War. That was twenty-five years ago now. Let’s hope I can still remember it.”

Instantly, Sid began jotting down all the dots and dashes. A short flash of light was a dot, and a long one a dash.

“Oh no! It’s all in German!” huffed Sid. “And my German is very rusty!”

“I don’t know much beyond ‘Heil Hitler’!” said Eric. The boy turned back to Gertrude, who was standing just behind them at the window. “I don’t think Gertrude can speak German either!” he added, stroking the gorilla behind her big furry ears just where she liked it. “Is there anything you can make out, Uncle Sid?”

“T. O. T. E. N.”

“Töten? What’s that mean?”

“I heard the German soldiers shout it when they charged towards our trench. It means ‘kill’.”

“Kill who?” asked the boy. “Us?”

“Wait!” Sid made some more notes. “C. H. U. R. C. H. I. L. L.”

Together they exclaimed, “Churchill!”

“Töten Churchill,” said Sid. “Kill Churchill!”