I heard his sigh. ‘I was in the car with Gilles because when I worked at the Ministry of Defence in Paris before the crash, Gilles was my colleague. He worked on the floor below me. At Hôtel de Brienne under General Charles Léchères. He is down here to conduct military business with Major Dirke at the USAF air base. He came to see me after you left for the dance while Papa was out on his rounds on the farm. He asked me to join their meeting. To discuss the arrival of the next shipment of B-50 planes from Boeing in America.’

He paused, studying my stunned expression. ‘You see, my dear sister,’ his tone was soothing, ‘nothing is as simple or straightforward as it seems.’

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know which of the questions crowding on my tongue to choose.

‘Everything you told me about Gilles Bertin before . . .’ I started.

‘Is true.’

‘He is a spy for the MGB in Russia.’

‘Yes.’

‘You know this, yet he is still employed at the Ministry of Defence?’

‘He is employed at a low-grade level with no access to top-secret information. We use him to feed misinformation back to his Soviet masters.’

‘Throwing in a few snippets of juicy truth to keep them believing it, I presume.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Are there many like him?’

‘Not all have his talent for violence. But yes, you have to realise that every government department in France is infiltrated by Russian agents. Riddled with them. Not only in government, but in industry too. Every factory and every laboratory is subject to industrial espionage on a huge scale as the Russians struggle to compete with our developments in the West.’

I could hear the anger, like a rising tide in his voice.

‘The Cold War is a war conducted on many fronts, Eloïse, unseen and unheard, but it is a war nonetheless. People are dying in it every day. Quietly and discreetly. Buried in cold earth. With no battle honours. So do not for one second think there is no danger because you cannot see bloodied uniforms or hear the boom of artillery guns. It is there. Right under your nose.’

‘Oh, André, why didn’t you tell me all this about Gilles Bertin before? Why keep me in the dark?’

‘My clever little sister, why do you think? You are my sister. I didn’t want you involved. I didn’t want you hurt again. That’s why I kept pushing you back to Paris. Don’t you know that?’

I laughed, not a happy laugh but the best I could find. ‘So does that mean you are not in danger? Not from Bertin. You were with him at the house last night, I saw you, but when did you get in his car?’

André nodded. ‘I saw you too at the air base with Major Dirke.’

‘How?’