The sky is blue, Cornish blue. Not the murky colour of a Moscow sky that seems permanently washed out to me. Slowly, I rotate my arms over my head and backstroke across the bay. My ears beneath the water hear the deep rumble of a distant engine. Maybe a fishing boat heading out. It doesn’t matter. All that is important is today going to plan. I can do everything asked of me, even with the lack of sleep. The social side is automatic. I have learned that almost from birth. Deception is surprisingly easy, too. I have taken to it like I had to water. One moment simply a secretary then the next, a minor operative. I know my advantages. People think I’m too beautiful to have a brain. That I’ve been to finishing school rather than university tells the world my worth.

My father believed that university would be wasted on me. I tense as the anger runs through me. I should be thankful now. He doesn’t know what I do. I made that a condition of doing the work. He would stop it, even now when he has no right to say anything about my life, he would try. He lives to control. He would be horrified that the life he provided for me has made me into a suitable spy. Foreign languages surrounded me during my childhood and I learn them with ease. And, of course, the whole culture of being seen not heard. For him that included women as well as children.

Flipping over, I begin the crawl with renewed force. As I breathe, I catch a glimpse of Allan and Diana walking along the beach. Diana waves wildly and I signal that I see them. Even at this distance her grin is visible. She loves it here. This is where she calls home. We all do. I turn around and above them I catch sight of the house. It dominates the view, despite the cluster of old fisherman’s cottages and newer homes that have sprung up where my mother sold off some of the land. Thanks to Allan, I haven’t had to do that to keep Boskenna. His brother inherited their family estate, but he had received a large inheritance from his grandmother and that pays for Boskenna’s upkeep.

Maybe after the Moscow assignment we should think about giving up the Foreign Office. I laugh and take in a mouth full of salt-water. Both Allan and I would be bored to tears. We thrive on the pressure in a place like Moscow, but I know that once Victor is finished they will move us on. From what Tom has said, that might be sooner rather than later.