‘They’ve turned me down because I’m a woman. Probably too old as well. Oh, and the worst crime of all, I’m a mother. It doesn’t say so there, but I rang the receptionist and she confirmed that the men-only rule is a matter of policy. You’d have thought the question of brainpower and commitment would be rather more important than sex and age, but there you go.’

‘I’m truly sorry to hear that, Lydia.’

She snorted, then screwed up the letter and tossed it towards the wastepaper basket, missing it by a couple of inches.

‘That’s life, Philip.’

‘But it’s not good enough. Let’s just hope Mr Attlee sweeps away all that sort of nonsense.’

‘Good God, don’t tell me you voted Labour? I had you down as Tory to the marrow.’

He smiled. ‘Really? I thought you knew me rather better than that.’

‘You’re a dark horse, Philip.’ But, of course, she had always known that. And she hadn’t for a moment put him down as Tory. In fact, she had never been quite sure what he was, and she was still confused. Obviously, he was good at his job, for if a senior intelligence agent couldn’t keep his feelings secret, what use was he?

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘You haven’t actually said no to my proposition.’

‘One week, no longer.’

‘I’ll go and get the hamper and Mr Borisov’s meagre belongings.’

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

The radio was dead. Mo Heck was stuck halfway up a mountain with no way of communicating with Tom Wilde or anyone else. Not that he had anything to report for it had been a long day of nothingness. Nothing but watching farm folk going about their daily grind. No vehicles arrived in the village, none left.

He was isolated and the day had become cold. There was a feeling of snow in the air, which was not uncommon at these altitudes in late summer. Heck was well aware of this, because he knew the Alps from his boyhood summer holidays in Switzerland. The question he couldn’t get away from was the problem of what exactly to do if he saw Standartenführer Julius Boden. By the time he got down to the village, Boden could well be gone. And with the radio kaput there was no way of summoning help to block his exit or pursue him.

To hell with it, for the moment there seemed to be no alternative but to stay where he was and continue to observe; he’d give the stake-out one more night and then, if nothing happened, he was getting out of here.

He smoked a cigarette, certain that they’d never see the thin, dissipating wisps of smoke from down there. And then he had an idea. At first it seemed crazy and he dismissed it.