As he headed toward a panic attack, Jim knew he’d not be able to hide it; he knew he’d have to disguise it as something else. He brought the trowel down hard and fast onto the back of his hand. He yelled in pain and sat his bottom down into the fresh pile of soil he’d just dug. Anik raced over.

“Sit still. Crikey, you’re as white as a sheet. Don’t panic, Jim, you’re OK. Try to control your breathing.” Anik covered the cut on the back of Jim’s hand with a hanky, so that the seeping blood didn’t make him feel worse. “When you’re ready, we’re going to go into the kitchen and run this under the cold tap. Then we’ll see what the damage is. OK?”

Jim nodded, slowed his breathing, calmed himself down and Anik could see the color gradually returning to his cheeks.

As Anik hunted for the first-aid kit in the bathroom upstairs, Jim’s hand was slowly going numb under the cold water from the kitchen tap. Diluted blood ran down between his fingers and into the white porcelain sink, but Jim was miles away, recalling the steamy nights he’d shared with Connie in the signal box. It was the most daring thing he’d ever done and she was the most wonderful woman he’d ever known. He could still feel her hot breath on his neck as she perched on the side bench, her legs wrapped tight around his waist, panting in time with him. Her hands caressed the top of his bare buttocks poking out from beneath his white briefs and her nails dug into his skin as she urged him into her. He had never in his life, before or since, felt so desired. Jim’s wife, Jean, who he loved dearly, was the opposite of Connie. She was steady, loving and exactly the sort of woman Jim’s friends and family would have put him with.

Jim had had no clue why Connie allowed him to love her for those few short weeks back in 1995, but he had just been eternally grateful for the time they shared. He hung his head in heartbreaking pain. That was a lie. He knew exactly why Connie had allowed him to love her. She’d asked so many questions about his job: about how he knew where the train was on the tracks at any given moment; about the trackside alarm systems. She’d flattered him and been impressed by all of his “oh, so important” responsibilities—she’d told him how such a complicated job turned her on and he’d fallen for it. Jim didn’t care. He, honest to God, did not care a jot. Connie had made him feel like he could take on the world. She’d been his beautiful secret and that’s how she’d stay until the day he died.

Jim knew nothing for certain, but if Connie had been using him for information, that would make him the inside man Anik was asking about. How lucky he was to have been used by someone so wonderful and so lovely—any man would be jealous. And any man would have done exactly the same.