There was silence in the room as Christopher smoked his cigarette. At length he jerked his head at Mrs Parker and she returned to her seat, meek as a scalded dog. I looked at her husband. He had shrunken into his chair. He was playing with something in his hands, moving his fingers like he was washing up. I glimpsed something yellow and a black beady eye. He was holding a dead bird in his hands, thumbing its feathers and staring into his cupped palms.

‘Dingwall said you were hard to scare,’ said Christopher, and twitched a smile as he walked to the front of the sofa and stood with his back to the fire. ‘But I’m scarier than Dingwall.’

Cordelia looked at him with insolence written all over her face. She flicked her hair behind her ear and looked at his cigarette. ‘Got a spare?’

Christopher seemed delighted with her. He lit her cigarette and passed it over. She took a drag. I’d never seen her smoke but she didn’t cough as she breathed out. Just looked at him like she could do this for as long as he wanted.

‘I should be cross,’ he said, at last. ‘I’ve had to drive a long way for you. I’ve had to look at things I didn’t want to look at again. I’m fairly agog with nostalgia.’ He made the word ‘agog’ sound like he was gasping. Then he smiled. ‘I’d made my peace with not coming back. But you’ve made it very difficult for me to stay away.’

‘Your dad,’ I said, and it hurt my insides to say it. ‘Are you back for Fairfax?’

‘A sadness,’ he said. ‘But I’d been dead to him for a long time. It would seem wrong to grieve.’

‘You can choose that, can you?’ asked Cordelia, scornfully. ‘Whether to be upset?’

‘I learned to control my emotions a long time ago,’ he said, neutrally. ‘It’s a shame what happened to Father and I can’t help but feel a little responsible. But in truth, I’m several rungs down the ladder on that one. People like you are a lot closer to the top in terms of who should be feeling guilty.’

‘That’s not fair,’ I protested, and he shushed me with a wave.

‘You’re right,’ he said, and his cheek twitched. ‘I’m never sure when I’m being myself and when I’m being the job.’

‘The job?’ I asked.

Christopher nodded, staring straight at Cordelia as he answered my question.

‘They found I had certain abilities not long after I signed up,’ he said, and there was no smugness to him. ‘Apparently I had a way of seeing things that was useful to some of the less celebrated combatants.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

‘The intelligence services,’ said Cordy, without turning her head. ‘You’re a spy?’