‘Let me spell it out. You are accusing British ex-servicemen of terrorism – on British soil – and you’re proposing to place an SAS sergeant with an exemplary record among them to help you join up the dots.’

Getting it wrong wouldn’t just be Woolf’s undoing: it would be Mandler’s head as well.

‘I think we’re going to have to take some soundings before I let you off the leash. All right?’

Chapter 14

14

Newland Hall, Malvern Hills, Worcestershire

Mary Buckingham brushed a few crumbs off the ancient oak table as she put his coffee in front of him, black, no sugar. Tom had appeared at the door without any warning. She hadn’t even known he was back in the country. Usually she got a call to say that he was on his way. She touched his shoulder, felt the tension in it, then sat down and tried not to make it too obvious that she was watching him intently.

‘Thanks, Mum.’ He smiled at her, then let his gaze drift back to a vacant space on the kitchen wall.

She was torn. Every homecoming was a cause for celebration, a huge wave of relief that brought the knowledge he was safe and in one piece. But she had learned to keep her joy to herself, just as she hid her tears whenever he left. She used to think that it would get easier, that the heart-aching wrench of seeing her son, so recently a child to her, going off to dangerous places – he could never say where – would diminish over time. In fact, it was the opposite, as if a malign calculator in the back of her mind was totting up the probability that the longer he stayed in the Regiment the more likely it was that the worst would happen. She had accepted that she couldn’t know where he was going or what he was doing, knew that it was probably better that way. But she still tensed when the news came on, or if Hugh paused when answering the phone, even held her breath. So the relief when he reappeared usually made her almost light-headed with joy.

But not today. Something was wrong.

‘How was the flight?’

There were a million other questions she lacked the courage to ask.

‘Fine. Flew back with a young lad from Brum.’

‘Oh, yes? Was that nice?’

Tom said nothing.

She couldn’t remember a time when he had been so distant. When Delphine had lost the baby, he had been full of sorrow, but he’d handled it, talked about it. He wasn’t one to push things down. But something had sucked the energy out of him.