by Tom Bradby
‘I don’t believe I have.’
‘Kate runs our Russia Desk, so she has her hands quite full at the moment.’
‘Jeez,’ Cindy said. ‘Welcome to our world.’ She shook her great mane of hair. ‘Our politicos are so weak and venal it’s a job to find one they couldn’t corrupt.’ She touched Kate’s sleeve with a hand that seemed a little older than her face. ‘The first ballot must be around now, right?’
Kate glanced at her watch. ‘Yes.’
‘His Excellency has left the TV on in the main reception room, so I guess we’ll hear as soon as it’s out.’
‘The result isn’t in much doubt,’ Kate said.
‘You don’t think the Guardian story will make any difference?’
‘Not as much as it would once have done. In our world of fake news, the truth is a matter of opinion. In the meantime, in every other respect, particularly on the charisma front, James Ryan and Imogen Conrad are streets ahead of anyone else. I don’t think Meg Simpson has much of a following. I suspect a lot of MPs will waver, but not many will change their vote. Then we’ll have to see what happens as they go out to the party members.’
‘What about the sex tape? She fucks like a trooper, but that ain’t what most folks want in a leader – at least, not when she’s a woman.’
‘Maybe. But times have changed here, too. No one is shocked by porn any more, not even when it turns out to involve our hitherto superficially blameless political elite.’
‘It was an unbelievable piece of work,’ Cindy said. ‘More of a turn-on than any porn movie I’ve ever seen. But that might decide it – she has a body most women would kill for, so they definitely won’t vote for her.’
Adrian had barely taken his eyes off Cindy during the entire conversation, but they swivelled now in the direction of the terrace, where the ambassador had made an appearance. ‘Result imminent,’ he announced, in a booming voice.
Cindy and Adrian set off for the reception room, along with almost everyone else, but Kate hung back. She looked up at the trees, listened to the distant hum of the traffic. It was hard to believe they were still in the heart of the city.
‘I hoped you might be here,’ Sergei said.
She snapped around.
Sergei’s smile was as beguilingly crooked as ever. He wore a sleek charcoal suit, white shirt and woven silk tie. His wavy dark hair – tinged with grey now – was swept back from his forehead and his eyes still sparkled with wry amusement.
‘And here I am,’ she said. ‘So the magic still seems to work.’
‘The lady in red. You look as lovely as ever.’ He nodded towards the last of the guests jostling for a glimpse of the TV screen. ‘Don’t you want to know who is through to the next round?’ He had to stoop slightly to speak to her, even though she was wearing stiletto heels.
‘I have a pretty good idea already.’
‘Ah, you mean it’s rigged – like one of our elections?’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Rumour has it that this is one of your elections. But isn’t that rather a dangerous thing to say for a man in your position?’
‘Everything between us has always been dangerous.’ His deep brown eyes shone with mischief, then burnt with the intensity that had always made her heart beat faster. ‘In the end it is always about trust, no?’
‘Of course.’
‘And what else can you base that on but instinct?’ He smiled again. ‘Have you placed a bet?’
‘No.’
‘You should. Your judgement has always been excellent.’
‘I’ve learnt that trying to predict the future is unwise these days. Especially when it comes to politics.’
‘True enough.’
‘Perhaps you should,’ she said.
‘Me? Who am I supposed to want to win?’
‘Something tells me you know the answer to that.’
A big man with a white beard came out onto the terrace. ‘Ryan and Conrad,’ he shouted across to a colleague.
‘So there we have it,’ Sergei said. ‘Santa Claus has spoken. I’m just puzzled that he isn’t also wearing red.’
‘It’s not Christmas yet.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘I need help, Sergei. I wasn’t going to ask, but I have to. Why did you send me that letter?’
He removed a carefully folded white linen handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped a smear of lipstick from her teeth. ‘Because time may have moved on, but I haven’t.’
She wondered what an onlooker might make of this scene. ‘That leaves me none the wiser. Did you play me? Us?’
‘Of course not. Did you listen carefully enough to what I just said? It is cold in Moscow. And I am not talking about the weather.’
‘There are those at Vauxhall Cross who take the view that you’re GRU, and that they’ve used you to set this in play. You and your colleagues don’t think all this messing about in Western politics is in Mother Russia’s interests, and you want Vasily and his cronies gone. Is that right?’
‘If I was GRU, I wouldn’t have known about the meeting they were due to have on Igor’s yacht, or what they were there to discuss.’
‘My bosses think it’s too much of a coincidence—’
‘And what about you? Do you think I would use you like that?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve asked myself that question over and over again, but I cannot believe you would. However, I’m relying on an instinct formed nearly half a lifetime ago. And yet …’
He waited. ‘And yet … what?’
‘Why was I prepared to accept it?’
‘Why would you not?’
‘I don’t know who you work for, how senior you are and who you’re really loyal to. There’s no one else in the world I’d accept such incredibly sensitive information from, then act upon it without question.’
‘I am not anyone else in the world,’ he said. ‘Has anything changed? Between us, I mean.’
‘I don’t know.’ Kate stared at the grass, her mind swimming with the danger. ‘Yes. No. Maybe. Everything has changed. I don’t know you any more.’
‘Of course you do. I told you, time has moved on, but I really haven’t. It hardly qualifies as grand tragedy. And, of course, it is not your fault. I was trying to help you, that’s all.’
‘You’ve come close to ruining me. You must know what you set in motion. It’s make or break now. I need more – or they’ll close this down. And maybe me too.’ She hated herself for her beseeching look and tone. ‘I need proof, Sergei. Proof.’
‘I was trying to help you, Kate. One day you will understand.’
Adrian and Cindy’s imminent return robbed her of the opportunity to press the point.
‘Ryan and Conrad,’ Adrian said, as he reached them. ‘So now it gets interesting.’
Kate introduced Sergei and they engaged in uneasy small-talk for a moment, until he excused himself. ‘You should come to the dacha again,’ he whispered to her, before he slipped away. ‘Everything is just as you remember it. And my parents still talk of you often.’
After a decent interval, she went looking for him, aware that her heart was beating much faster than it should.
He appeared to have been swallowed into the night. She wiped the sweat from her palms and closed her eyes to calm the electric current racing through her stomach. How ridiculous. She was a middle-aged happily married mother of two and he’d made her feel like a girl again in no more than a few crisp sentences.
A band had started playing on the terrace, but Kate’s appetite for the event had evaporated. She made her way back towards the entrance hall. As she left, Sir Alan materialized at her shoulder.
‘Good party?’
‘Yes, sir. How about you?’
‘It rarely disappoints. And how I wish one could say that more often.’ His car was waiting on the front drive. ‘Get in,’ he said. ‘I’ll drop you home.’
They were scarcely through the gate when he said, ‘I’m hoping you’re about to tell me we have a breakthrough.�
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‘Not really, sir. No.’
‘I saw you chatting. Did you not get the opportunity to discuss his motives?’
‘I know what his motive was.’
‘Love?’
‘Something very like it.’
‘That might be … complicated.’
‘Not if I don’t intend to make it so. And I don’t.’ Kate turned to him. ‘I’m not sure he knows much more than he told me.’
‘Of course he does. There is no conceivable way he would have tipped you off about that meeting without knowing its agenda. And that leaves only two possibilities: the reason you suggest, or to play you – and therefore us – as Ian likes to believe.’
‘He’s not playing me.’
C shook his head. ‘Odd. You told me a few days ago that you didn’t trust anyone. So how is it that you trust him?’
It was a question Kate couldn’t – or perhaps wouldn’t – answer. And Sir Alan’s demeanour was considerably less amicable as a result. She stared out of the window at the passing traffic.
‘Do you trust your husband?’
Kate turned back to him. ‘That’s an unacceptable question, if I may say so.’
‘No, Kate, you may not. You know the rules.’ His tone was even steelier than she had prepared herself for. ‘Ian came to me to talk about Viper. He had Stuart’s phone records. One or two of the calls take some explaining.’
Kate thought about that. ‘I’ve seen them and I imagine Julie gave them to him,’ she said. ‘But the number of Ian’s calls to her would take rather more explaining than my husband working late on a damage-limitation exercise when an official in his employer’s department had just been arrested by the police as a suspected paedophile.’
‘It’s not a revelation to me that Ian’s every action has an ulterior motive – and sometimes many of them.’ Sir Alan glanced at the kaleidoscope of lights on the windscreen, conjured up by a fresh squall of rain on the glass. ‘You don’t need me to tell you that we’re damned if we go on and damned if we turn back. If we can’t stand this thing up, then I’m finished. And so are you.’
‘We’re trying to do the right thing. What other choice is there?’
‘You think that’s Ian’s philosophy?’
‘No.’
‘Ian has been waiting for such a moment for a very long time. You saw how he behaved at the meeting in King Charles Street this morning. And it was unquestionably him who leaked that information to the Guardian.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because I know him. The person it damages in the long run is me. And that is why Ian did it.’
‘Surely your long-standing friendship with the foreign secretary will protect you.’
‘James is great fun. He’s irreverent, amusing – and the most ruthless man I’ve ever met. In a landscape where rebellion, inconsistency and unreliability are without meaningful consequence, he’s a wonderful companion. And I have no doubt our friendship, or his version of it, will endure. He’ll still want to invite me shooting or to share a glass from the back of his Range Rover on Twickenham match days. But if I stand in his way, he’ll cut me down. And, right now, I’m what stands between him and the job he’s always wanted. So …’ he smiled bleakly ‘… either we find proof that the original intelligence was correct, or it’s goodnight, Vienna.’
‘We must have this kind of conversation more often,’ Kate said. ‘It’s lifting my spirits no end.’
‘There’s always the private sector.’
‘I’ll dust off my CV in the morning.’
Sir Alan didn’t speak again until they were coasting down the street to her home. ‘I have the measure of Ian,’ he said. ‘And, in a way, I find that easier to deal with. It’s the questions that keep gathering around you that trouble me more.’
‘Which ones in particular?’
‘I don’t think you need me to tell you that.’
His driver had pulled open her door before she could respond. She opted for a polite farewell as she stepped out onto the pavement.
‘Goodnight, Kate.’
To her surprise – and no little delight – Fiona, Gus and Jed were all hunched over Fiona’s computer in her bedroom, watching something together.
‘Hi,’ Kate said. ‘Everything all right?’
Fiona hit the stop button. ‘We didn’t burn the house down.’
‘Well, I’ll take that as a positive. Dad not back?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Okay. I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll see you in the morning.’ Kate kissed them both. She almost hugged Jed, then thought better of it. ‘I have to go somewhere tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a few days.’
She had reached the door when Fiona said, ‘Is everything okay between you and Dad?’
She swung back into the room. ‘Of course. Why?’
‘Nothing. It’s just …’
‘Just?’
‘You’re hardly ever here together. And arguing a lot when you are.’ Both Fiona and Gus were looking at her now. Jed was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t there.
Kate sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I should have said something. There’s absolutely nothing wrong between Dad and me, though I can understand why you might think there could be. We’re just going through one of those infuriating periods when we’re both overloaded at work by a whole heap of things that can’t wait to be dealt with. I’m really sorry if we’re distracted and tired and sometimes ratty with each other, and probably with you too. But if there’s a problem, it’s out there,’ – she waved a hand at the window – ‘rather than in here.’
‘What do you mean?’ Fiona asked.
‘I can’t really explain now. I wish I could, but I can’t.’
‘Is it to do with the Russians trying to undermine the leadership election?’ Gus asked.
This was so far ahead of the perspective she expected of her rugby-mad son that Kate simply stared at him. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘Our history teacher was talking about it. She said it’s the same as they’ve always done, only worse, because now they’re trying to get our leading politicians to work for them. Secret service, she called it. She wrote it up on the board. She said it’s how Russia and China will destroy the West.’
‘Well …’
‘Is that true?’ Fiona asked.
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out,’ Kate said. ‘I mean, in a nutshell. And it’s bloody difficult, because they’re extremely good at sowing discord, and half the time – most of the time, actually – they’re spewing out lies and misinformation, and for us, working out what’s true and what isn’t gets more complicated with each passing year.’
‘Are they threatening you?’ Fiona asked.
‘No, love. No.’
Fiona was frowning at her.
‘What is it?’ Kate asked.
‘It’s probably nothing.’ Fiona glanced at each of the boys.
‘What is it? Tell me.’
‘She doesn’t want to worry you, Mrs Henderson. It’s just that … earlier this evening, there was a knock on the door. And Fi knows very well that you’ve said never open it when we’re here without you at night. So we came upstairs and looked out of the window. There were two men, but we couldn’t see their faces. They knocked again. Hard. And then they waited and knocked again.’
‘It was really loud,’ Gus said.
‘Jed went downstairs,’ Fiona said, with pride.
‘Did you open the door?’ Kate asked.
‘No. I didn’t think that was a good idea. And I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want them to know for sure that we were here.’
‘He got a knife from the kitchen, Mum, and waited inside the door.’
Jed looked embarrassed. ‘I put on the security chain. They must have heard me, because they knocked even louder.’
‘It was terrifying,’ Fiona said. ‘Jed was amazing.’
‘I wasn’t,’ Gus said. ‘I was shitting myself.’r />
‘Don’t worry,’ Kate said. ‘I won’t say a word to the A team. And good for you, Jed.’ She turned back to her daughter. ‘What did they look like?’
‘They were wearing black leather jackets and black beanie hats. I couldn’t see their faces. I don’t know if they spotted us at the window. They never looked up.’
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘I … We …’ She glanced at her brother. ‘We didn’t want to bother you.’
‘We would have called you,’ Gus said, ‘but they suddenly legged it. There were four of them,’ he added. Fiona and Jed stared at him, confused. ‘There were only two at the door. But I saw two more on the other side of the street. And they all walked off together.’
‘Also in black beanie hats and leather jackets?’
‘Yes. It was like they were in a gang or something.’
Kate got up. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Were they part of a gang?’ Gus asked.
‘In a manner of speaking. They were delivering a message, meant for me.’
24
Kate messaged Stuart to come home as soon as possible. She called the night desk at the office and asked the duty officer to send a detail to the house immediately. She promised to get the necessary clearance in the morning.
Two women and a rather sallow young man arrived about an hour later. Kate showed them around the house and introduced them to Gus, Fiona and Jed. They checked the back garden and all the external locks and asked a lot of questions about the black-leather-jacket brigade.
Once she had finished briefing them, Kate went back upstairs.
‘Who are they?’ Gus asked.
‘One of our security teams.’ She saw the look on their faces. ‘It’s just a precaution.’
‘Are we going to be … all right?’
‘Yes. Absolutely. I’m just playing it safe.’
Gus and Fiona decided they wanted to share a room for the first time since they were toddlers. Before Kate could offer to drop Jed home, Fiona asked if he could stay as well. ‘We’d feel safer,’ she said.