He took it from me. Put it in the pocket of his cardigan. ‘Did you like what you read?’

I made myself meet his eyes. ‘Aye. It were all right.’

‘Good, then,’ he mumbled. ‘That’s good.’

We stood there for a bit, feeling daft. Then he nodded like it was all dealt with and he turned around and started fiddling behind the sink again.

‘What is it you think you’re doing?’ I asked, leaning over and trying to see what he was up to. ‘Are you looking for a key or a rounders bat or something?’

He didn’t turn back to me. Spoke as he carried on fiddling with the workings of the sink. ‘She’s not here, then.’

‘Who? Cordelia? No. I don’t even know if they know her.’

‘So who is here?’

‘Sera and her brother. He’s Guatemalan too. Then there are two big blokes and a skinny little goblin man. He’s got a gun. The tall one is Pelletier. I think that’s right. And I think I saw somebody else in the doorway but my eyes might have been having me on, and …’

I stopped talking. From outside came the sounds of raised voices and clattering furniture. I couldn’t make out what was being said but it was clear that somebody was ranting and raging and the other voices were trying to calm them down.

‘What is it you’re doing down there,’ I said, shivering again and trying to take my mind off the fright by snapping at John while he touched up the sink.

‘You never bloody listened, did you?’ he said, ignoring me. I watched as he shuffled sideways, sliding his finger under the edge of the carpet and gripping the edges, softly tugging it free of the flagstones. ‘All those times I told you what she did and you just laughed it off. I was bloody serious.’

‘What who did?’

‘Cordelia. Five years? Six? How many hints do you need before you cotton on?’

‘Cotton on to what, John?’

‘She’s a bloody spy! This is a safe house – like from the films. Why do you think I’ve been calling her Jane Bond all these years?’

‘Don’t talk soft, she works for the United Nations …’

‘Aye. As a spy.’

‘Well, who does she spy on?’ I asked, getting all hot and stroppy.

‘Andrea Domney,’ he muttered, still tugging at the carpet. ‘That’s what the name badge said. She saw me and I saw her and there were no doubting who she was, even with the wig and the glasses. It was Cordelia, and she was pretending to be some bugger else. And it weren’t long after that they tapped me up and reminded me of what I’d signed.’