Hepton had been thinking about it all the way back to the base. So much so that when he glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw no sign of any car following him, he merely shrugged and kept on driving.

They were surprised to see him at the gate.

‘Thought you’d got a couple of days’ leave,’ one guard said.

‘Can’t keep away,’ Hepton replied, starting the car forward as the barrier rose to let him into the compound.

He parked, then went straight to Fagin’s office, a small whitewashed room next to the female toilets on the second level. There was always a faint aroma of urine and disinfectant in the room, which nobody mentioned and everyone put down to its location. But Fagin seemed happy there; some might have said disturbingly so.

Fagin, too, was surprised to see him, but admitted as much only by the raising of his thin eyebrows when Hepton walked in through the door.

‘Sit down, Martin, please.’ Hepton sat. ‘Have you seen Paul?’

‘Yes.’

‘And how is he?’

Hepton looked around the room before answering. There were photographs of satellites, spaceships and aircraft covering the walls, and three pinboards filled with postcards and other memorabilia. Then he looked towards Fagin.

‘He’s fine,’ he said.

‘Good,’ said Fagin, returning the look. ‘So what can I do for you?’

That was the question, thought Hepton: what could Fagin do for him? What was it Paul Vincent had said …?

‘Actually,’ he began, ‘it’s about Paul. He looks so fit, he reminded me it’s a while since I’ve had a break. I mean a proper break. I was wondering if I could be spared for a week or two.’

Fagin seemed to consider this. ‘Well …’

‘I know I’m not due any additional leave right now,’ Hepton continued. He was waiting for a shake of the head. Fagin hated to see people go off on holiday. Work was what he lived for, and he didn’t see why others shouldn’t be the same. So Hepton waited. He knew he wasn’t owed any holiday time, and Fagin knew it, too. Besides which, there was a strict routine to be obeyed, which meant giving four weeks’ notice of intended vacations.

Fagin’s face wrinkled.

‘I’m not sure we can spare you just at the moment, Martin. I take it you’d want your leave to start immediately?’

‘If possible, yes.’

Fagin was shaking his head, but slowly. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said again.

‘Nick Christopher could stand in for me,’ Hepton said, thinking fast. ‘He knows the set-up on my console as well as I know it myself. And Curtees could take over from him.’

‘I’ll have to think about it, Martin. I’ll try to give you an answer one way or the other as soon as I can, but no promises.’

‘Well, thanks anyway.’ Hepton made to rise, but paused. ‘Oh, one more thing, sir.’