‘Let me guess, he liked to get smashed on cider, right?’ Silva said, trying to be her old self too, trying to behave as if the madness of the past few days hadn’t happened.

‘Cider?’ Sean cocked his head. ‘Oh, I see.’

Silva bent to her food and took a few mouthfuls. ‘I’m sorry about storming out.’

‘No.’ Sean put a hand across the table. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I was a bit blinded by Karen Hope and the whole occasion and I didn’t read your mood. Getting over your mother’s death is not something that happens overnight.’

Silva nodded. ‘Thanks.’

They finished their main course and ordered dessert and coffees, Silva all the time trying to appear casual and relaxed. As Sean shovelled up a spoonful of sticky toffee pudding, she asked about the trade summit. He paused for a moment and then shook his head.

‘I suppose I can tell you. It’s no secret. I’m sure it’s going to be widely reported.’

‘And?’

‘The US and UK governments have done a massive trade deal with Saudi Arabia. The deal’s worth billions and secures thousands of jobs.’

‘Are we talking arms?’

‘Yes.’ Sean put his spoon down. Tilted his head. ‘How did you know?’

‘An educated guess,’ Silva said. ‘On the phone you mentioned you were at RAF Wittering. I doubt the military would have been involved had the deal been about mere widgets.’

‘Right.’ Sean picked up his spoon again but then stopped. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Just that you were helping facilitate the export of weapons to Saudi Arabia, weapons which will be used to kill innocent—’

‘Hang on.’ Sean raised both hands. ‘We’re not going down that route. I know your mother was critical of UK and US policy in the Middle East, but you can’t pin the blame for her death on me. Besides, the Saudis are allies. They provide stability in the region.’

‘They fund militants.’ Silva plucked a fact from something she’d read in her mother’s dossier. ‘For instance, fifteen of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers were Saudis.’

‘That’s ancient history. We’re fully aware of everything Saudi Arabia does these days.’

‘Really?’ Silva let the question hang. She sat back in her chair. Folded her arms.

‘What is this, Becca?’ Sean pushed his unfinished pudding to one side and leaned forward, closing the distance. ‘Why the sudden interest? You’ve never been much bothered before.’

‘Before was when my mother hadn’t been killed by terrorists.’

‘This deal’s got nothing to do with that. This is all perfectly legal, with an audit trail and full accountability.’

‘If so then why were you, as a CIA operative, there?’