He nods. ‘Yes, but you should understand I wasn’t sent to target you – I sent myself. I’ve been involved in hunting Veliko since he first stole that data and ran. There was a possibility your ex-partner would find you, and do something to give himself and Veliko away. I needed to be in position in case that happened.’

‘Why didn’t Maxine tell me all this at the start? I might have made a better job of things.’

‘You didn’t do too badly.’

‘Yes I did.’

‘The thinking was you’d be more effective the less you knew. That a genuinely innocent girlfriend working on intuition was far less likely to arouse the suspicion of her target than someone more knowing and self-conscious. And it isn’t information we’re fond of sharing.’

‘I’ve heard that before.’

‘No doubt.’

‘So many decisions I’ve made. The reasons why I made them were all wrong.’ My voice trails off, choked. ‘The consequences of those decisions, they’re hard to live with.’

He puts a hand lightly on mine. ‘New information doesn’t necessarily mean what you knew before was untrue or irrelevant. Your reasons could have been sound, even if the picture you had was incomplete.’

He knows enough about me to guess how lonely and alone I’ve been. Is he exploiting this deliberately? Doing exactly what Maxine rejected me for? Maybe he’s genuinely attracted to me, but in some sick way, because of what happened in St Ives.

‘You’re not just a job for me,’ he says. ‘At first you were. You’re certainly not now.’

I hesitate, but lightly, quickly, I curl my fingers round his, then let go and stand up. ‘I need to think. I have to be alone.’

He nods. ‘Okay. But call if you need anything. Don’t hesitate. And Helen?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you still want me to call you Helen?’

‘It doesn’t matter any more, does it?’

‘Maybe not. But I need to tell you something that does.’

‘What?’

‘That I know the meaning of no.’

Then
The Studio

One year and eleven months earlier

Cornwall, Early May 2017

I had to get through a full week of bed rest before I was able to leave the house to visit Milly. Her bedsit was in a soulless development ten miles inland. Like so many people in St Ives, she’d been driven away by the rising house prices, unable to afford anything close to the sea on her nurse’s salary.

The first four times I rang the bell Milly ignored me. Between rings, I phoned her mobile and left a series of voicemails.

‘I know you’re in there.’

‘I’m not going away, Milly.’

‘I need the loo and if I have an accident on your street it will be your fault.’

‘I’m calling your mother if you don’t let me in now.’