A little past ten thirty, David and Maria returned to their hotel room. "What a splendid dinner that was," she said as she began undressing. "The appearance, the textures, the flavours. Everything. The harmony with the wine." She giggled. "I'm a bit tipsy from that."

David helped her out of her dress; then he patted her butt cheek. "We need to get to bed; we've a train at seven thirty, so off you go to the loo." David chuckled as she headed toward the WC door. "So funny, isn't it? What the French call their facilities. The British abbreviation for water closet. And their pronunciation, doo-bluh-vay-say, confuses all but the French. I wonder if it was from all the Brit tourists when they –"

"David! DAVID! The commode is missing. There's only the hole left."

"No, not missing. That's modern French plumbing. You're meant to stand on the footpads and squat. That's why I told you to use the one on the train as we entered Paris. Maybe I should have explained." He ran his fingers through his hair. "There's a bidet in the cabinet de toilette that may be more convenient to use if you need only to pee."

Maria came out of the WC shaking her head, and as she opened the door marked Toilette, she said, "What strange thinking they have. Look at this. A bathtub, a sink and a bidet." She pointed back to the WC. "And there, all they have is a hole in the floor." She turned and squatted over the bidet. "I'm sure most women pee and clean here instead of splashing all over their feet and ankles in there."

She washed herself, and as she was drying, she said, "That aberration was surely designed by a man."

"You look so gorgeous when you're a huff," David said as he finished peeing in the sink. "I quickly learned it's cleaner to do it here."

"Why is the image of France so connected to finesse and romance?"

"Perhaps it's because of all the fine food, fine wine, great music, art, literature ... I don't know. It surely isn't from their plumbing nor from the attitude of the men." He finished drying his hands, then put his arm around her waist. "Come. To bed. We've an early train."

"How will we wake on time?"

"I've an alarm clock."

"Alarm clock?"

"I bought it in Oxford the second day I was there, so I wouldn't be late for anything. It never failed me." He took the clock out of a satchel pocket, wound and set it, then handed it to her.

"This is very compact." She put it to her ear and listened to it tick. "It's soothing too. So what's the alarm?"

David took it and turned a knob on the back. "Watch the hands as they approach six thirty." The alarm rang. He shut it off, reset the time, turned it on again and put it on the bedside table.

"That should wake us." Maria sighed as she looked at him. "You're so organised with almost everything. Everything except including me in your thinking." She pointed to the WC. "Like letting me know about their hole-in-the-floor system."

"I told you to go on the train, didn't I?"

"Yes, but you didn't explain why."

David nodded. "Yes, I see I should have." He pulled her into a hug. "We need to sleep."

London, England – Tuesday, 20 December 1915

As the train pulled past the back gardens of soot-blackened row houses on their final few miles into London, David looked up from his book. "We need to find Christmas presents for your grandparents – all four of them."

Maria nodded. "I've been trying to think of what we could get them. I've thought wine would be suitable for Grandma and Grandpa, but for Oma and Opa, I'm still puzzled."

"And a wedding gift for Georg and your mother? Any thoughts?"

"I bought a duvet and cover in Bern for Mama's Christmas gift; hers is old and tattered. But it might do better as a gift to please them both. I could find something else for her Christmas gift."

"Why not the both of us give her the watch – and also the one to Tante?"

"I've already bought a present for Tante. Six Burgundy ballons to replace the three that were broken on the move to Sonnenhang."

"Those would be great for Oma and Opa; their wine glasses are all small."

Maria nodded. "Tante still has nine, and ..." She paused at the hiss of released steam and the squeal of the brakes as the train slowed for the station.

"We can think about this later in the day," David said as they watched the platform scroll past their compartment window. "Maybe find some time to visit Fortnum and Mason and be inspired."

A few minutes later, just beyond the arched entrance of St Pancras Station, David spotted William and Simms, and he led Maria across to them. After introductions, Simms picked up the luggage and led them to the motorcar. Once they were settled inside, William said, "Maria, we'll take you first to Devonshire House in Piccadilly."

Maria tilted her head and looked at him. "Devonshire House?"

"It's the Red Cross Headquarters. Your meetings and lunch are there. David and I will go to my club; it's only two blocks along in Saint James."

"And after?"

"Simms will pick you up following tea and take you to your hotel."

"And David?"

"He'll be at the hotel by then."