‘Well, yes,’ I said. My nerves were still taut, but loosening.

He tapped ash down to the ground. Underneath was a pile of what looked like chunks of collapsed masonry covered by a tarpaulin. I was surprised it hadn’t been tidied up and carted away for the party. Even here they had priorities and some things were make-do-and-mend. ‘Comrade Burgess met him in ’38, you know. That imbecile Chamberlain had signed the Munich agreement, and Guy was so furious he went to Churchill’s home in Kent to see him for advice. In fact, Churchill had just received a letter from the Czechoslovakian prime minister begging him to help stop Germany taking over the country. “What can I do? An old man without power, without party?” Churchill said. It turned out that he was more in need of advice than Guy was. Guy told him to go up and down the country making speeches, to force people to listen to the danger. He told old Winston that they would listen to him. They didn’t, though. Guy was wrong about that.’

He blew more smoke and tapped out his ash. ‘Yes, Guy was wrong,’ he said under his breath. Then he looked me squarely in the eye. ‘Now, Mrs Cawson, will you tell me why you are here?’

I shook with the blow. My mind raced to know if he had recognized me when my mask had been pulled off, or if he had known from the moment I bought a ticket to Fetcham, his people keeping track of me all the way. I uncovered my face. ‘Lorelei had a deal with you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

What did that mean? Had I misunderstood everything?

And yet he knew me, had taken an interest in me. So surely there was truth in it somewhere. I suppressed my panic and bluffed a confidence. ‘Was it for the drugs?’

He stared at me as if I were mad. ‘I fear …’

I stumbled on. One last push. ‘What she was getting for you. From America – I can get them.’

‘Mrs Cawson …’ A bemused smile broke on his face.

‘I can get them.’

I just stood waiting, hoping I had hit home. There was silence. And then he spoke.

‘Why isn’t your husband here? Why send you?’ My heart was pounding so hard I felt it in my brow and my fingers. ‘Ah. He doesn’t know you’re here, does he? So you’re keeping this from him.’ His mouth twitched. ‘Maybe it’s because you think he’s keeping something from you.’ I was right. ‘Well, now, Mrs Cawson. You say you can get me the items the previous Mrs Cawson was supplying. I don’t need any more for now. What she was offering – it was something more than just the items themselves.’