I open my eyes wide. This is the first time that I have heard anything of what is contained in the films I transport. The less I know the better. ‘Tom?’

‘Sorry.’ He drops his cigarette on the ground and crushes it on the path.

My heart breaks looking at his slumped shoulders. ‘What will you do now?’

‘I’m not sure. Whatever it is it will be office-based.’

‘Sorry.’ He loves the field and the travel.

‘Perils of the job.’ He plays with the catch on his cigarette case. Open, close . . .

‘Yes.’ The reality of what I have been doing hits home. Diana and her movements have been an easy cover. Neither I nor Allan have ever felt she was at risk. But what if we have been followed and we are known?

He touches my arm. ‘You have to go back.’

I look up at him. ‘Are my thoughts that visible?’

‘To me, yes.’ He pauses. ‘Victor is too important.’

I know he speaks the truth. Pain sears between my eyes. I swallow down the gasp of agony. Diana is at risk and it’s my fault.

‘Diana could go to boarding school.’

‘Yes.’ I draw lines in the damp soil with my toe. ‘She won’t be happy.’

‘I know, but . . .’

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. It is clear she is at risk even now. Closing my eyes, I think of her happy face as she scampered off holding Allan’s hand. I’d do anything for her.

‘I believe the next drop may well be the last.’ He begins pacing and I cut another flower head. ‘But I’m not in charge anymore and after this afternoon I will know very little of what happens going forward.’

‘Oh, Tom.’ He has been the safe pair of hands and now I am being handed over to an unknown person who hasn’t been involved. I sigh. That is the point, of course. They need someone who hasn’t been connected with Tom. But this George Russell will be another person in the loop and the more who know, the greater the possibility of a leak.

Tom stops pacing and shakes his head. ‘You mustn’t tell Allan. He can’t know. You understand this.’

‘Is he really under suspicion?’ I don’t want to think about this and I try not to connect the pieces.

Tom nods.

‘He’s not the mole, Tom.’

He opens out his cigarette case again, removes a cigarette then taps it three times on the case before lighting it. ‘He’s one of a few people that it could be.’

‘No.’ I stare directly back at him not allowing my glance to waver.