I take her hands in mine. ‘Look at me. You must forget what you saw.’ I swallow hard. ‘It never happened.’

‘But it did.’

Shaking my head violently, I try not to squeeze her hands too tightly. ‘Please, Diana, do not ever speak of what you saw to anyone.’

She frowns.

‘Promise me.’

I can see the questions running through her mind.

‘What if someone asks me?’

‘Then you must lie.’ Her eyes are wide and there is an expression of pleading. They don’t understand.

‘But . . .’

‘No buts. You must lie.’

‘But you’ve told me not to.’

I take a deep breath in. She’s eight, so young in so many ways and yet so clever beyond her years. ‘The best thing to do is to forget it.’

‘But how? How do you forget?’

Pulling her into my arms, I say, ‘I don’t know, darling, but somehow we must try.’ The sun streams through the window and the sound of the sea vies with the happy squeals of delight as families enjoy their holidays. We will never forget while we are here. We must leave Boskenna.

DESIRE LINES

DESIRE LINES

86. Joan

86

Joan

6 August 1962, 12.30 p.m.

‘You’ve got to eat something.’ Mrs Hoskine stands with her hands on her hips. She peers at me as if she is trying to see what is inside and that is the last thing that I want anyone to see. Inside is black and it is withering. I can’t believe that I was so sloppy, and she caught me with the gown.

‘I just can’t face food.’

‘Diana needs to see you eating.’ Her glance pierces me with its intensity.

‘I see.’

‘Do you?’

I nod and pick up the piece of bread on the table. Outside rain pelts down. It is the bank holiday so of course there is rain. I had longed for it yesterday but today sun would help. Now we are trapped in the house in more ways than one. The chief inspector arrived yesterday, late afternoon.

I feel like I’m caught in a detective novel. But worse than that is that I know who the killer was, and so does George. He has kept his distance. There is so much at stake. What about the next drop? I now have no cover story, no reason to go back to Moscow except to pack up our things. I’ve already had a phone call from the ambassador. The news of Allan’s death has spread quickly. Mrs Hoskine and Tom are taking all the phone calls. But Tom, I am concerned about him. Haunted is the only word I can use and I haven’t had time for him. Diana needs me. She is inconsolable and trying to be brave for me.