‘And the next thing I heard, you and David were an item. I’m just so sorry, Anna, I should have told you sooner. I should have warned you, but … The whole thing was such a head-fuck. You probably think I just ran off and never thought of you guys again, but I never forgot. I never forgot what Harry had done to me, or David, but I got distracted. Tom and I, we had a little girl. Maisie. She was ill, she is ill. She has learning difficulties which make it hard to … Well, it was all quite hard, and for a while I had other things on my mind. But I never forgot.
‘A few months ago, when Maisie started pre-school and I had a bit more time to myself, I started thinking about it again. About the things Harry had told me, and I just couldn’t stop thinking that something just wasn’t right. Things didn’t add up. I mean, I was too scared to question it at the time, but then a few months ago I started looking into him, into his background, I even found out where he was living … It’s amazing what you can find out when you put your mind to it.
‘I wanted to confront him, but the truth is I was scared – as much as anything about what I might do. I was so angry. I think Tom sensed it. In the end, he offered to go to London, to look for Harry’s flat and watch him for a couple of days. It was ridiculous. I suppose he might have been humouring me. If I’m honest, I’m not sure he believed me. I think he was trying to prove I had imagined it, that I’d built up this narrative in my mind to exonerate myself for leaving a perfectly good job, or something. Either that, or he just knew how badly I had to know.
‘Anyway, one morning he went to Harry’s flat and he nicked the recycling bag from outside his flat. Can you imagine? The whole thing was farcical. But actually it was pretty brilliant, because from his bank statements I found a series of payments from a company called Central Intelligence Solutions. It sounded like some sort of IT firm, but when I looked into it, it’s actually this so-called investigation and defence agency. A sort of corporate spy agency, basically.’
The ground at my feet was cold and split. Hundreds of tiny fracture lines, invisible at first, rising steadily through the soil.
‘I don’t understand.’ My voice was distant, as if coming through the end of a bad phone line.
Meg paused for a moment, slowing her breath to match mine. ‘I’m sorry, I’m ranting. I’ve just been waiting so long to speak to you about all this, and I know it’s too much to take in at once but …
She looked up. ‘I’m sorry, this is too much. Right now, while you’re grieving … It was selfish, but when I heard David had died, I just knew I had to tell you.’
The whole heath had slowed to match her pace. My lips moved.
‘Did you ever think you could do it? If it was for the right reason.’
Meg flinched in her seat, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, watching me pull my cardigan closer across my chest, my whole body folding in on itself.
Her forehead crumpled, her hand reaching out to mine at last. ‘Come on, Anna. What do you think?’
She watched her words, not seeing how they rolled over my skin, singeing the hairs, forcing me to flinch in silent pain.
Meg stopped, pulling a cigarette from the packet on the bench. As I watched her, I felt my body constrict, the walls of my ribs pressing in so tightly that I felt I might crack. Making to stand, I placed one hand on the cold wooden slats, my body leaning into it, the smell of smoke from the park ranger’s cottage seeping its way into my lungs. The hill in front of me seemed to sway, tilting sideways; my eyes fixed for a moment on a single crow lunging overhead as my head hit the ground.
CHAPTER 74
Maria
The day before I was due to meet David at the airport, I had taken a short walk from my hotel to Regent’s Park. I already knew from my Google searches what to expect as I approached, the stretch of Nash buildings behind me, along the path that curved towards the bench where I had insisted we meet. I recognised his face from the photographs online, the unnaturally blue eyes the computer screen had failed to do justice.
‘Harry?’
He looked up, his eyes narrowing sharply as they met mine before looking around, instinctively, for signs of company.
I could not be sure that he would come, after my call from the phone box the day after Felicity ‘let me go’. I had stolen his number from Anna’s phone with such ease that I wondered how she ever thought she was fooling anyone.
Taking a seat, I held out my hand.
‘My name is Maria. Like I said on the phone, I’m a friend of Anna’s. I also believe we have another person in common.’
‘Another person in common, you say?’ His accent was soft and I could instantly see from the way he held his face, the intensity of the eyes, what had drawn Anna in; though I would not be making that mistake.
Harry raised the cigarette to his lips and inhaled, the paper burning at the edges.
‘Yes. I think until now, you and I have been working from different angles, towards the same common goal. And I think we could help each other, if we joined forces.’
Something clicked, a look of intent forming at the corners of his mouth.
‘Is that right?’
Unnerved by the depth of his stare, I looked down for a moment and then lifted my head.
‘If you’re anything like me, you’re not going to want to see him get away with it. After everything we’ve given to bringing them to justice?’
‘We?’
‘Yes, we …’
‘What are we talking about here?’
Harry kept his expression cool, taking another drag of his cigarette as he looked out across sculpted hedges circling an ornamental fountain.
‘I assume you’ve heard about David.’
Harry raised an eyebrow, his voice measured. ‘I read something about it. The funeral was a few days ago, wasn’t it?’
‘David’s not dead.’
I watched his face turn towards me, and I smiled.
‘Now you’re listening? David is alive and is fleeing to the Maldives – tomorrow evening – where, as I’m sure you know, there is no extradition treaty, so once he is there, he’s free. MI6, they’re no longer interested. The African authorities, from what I gather, because of Nguema’s involvement and how much influence he has there, they aren’t in a hurry to prosecute. If anyone does try to fit him up for it, there is a plan to lay the blame on Anna. So the way I see it, there are only two people left on this earth who care about bringing Clive to justice. And one of us has been asked to accompany David to the Maldives, as his mistress.’
Harry cocked his head, exhaling a long line of smoke, his face breaking into a smile.
‘Well, I certainly didn’t get the memo. OK, now I’m listening.’
‘Anna is due to meet with Clive’s solicitors about the will. David and I are meeting at the airport tomorrow afternoon. He wanted to be sure everything went smoothly in terms of Anna’s reaction to the meeting she is due to have with his father’s solicitors, tomorrow morning, so he has been lying low at his father’s flat, “getting his ducks in order”, that’s what you say. Right?’
‘I definitely don’t say that.’
I paused then, unable to stop myself. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘Do what?’ His expression was one of genuine bemusement.
‘All of it. I mean, there must have been easier ways to make money …’
Harry raised a hand at this, as if the idea of being in it for the money offended him.
‘Seriously, I’m intrigued. I know why I did it, but I can’t work out …’
Harry smiled then, as if considering something for the first time. ‘But life’s not like that, is it? It’s not that straightforward. You must know that as well as I do. You make decisions as and when situations arise; you take steps and you never really know where they will take you. You just do what you think is right in that moment; sometimes you’re right, and sometimes—’ His voice stopped abruptly. ‘Well, maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong. Maybe we all were. It just depends what ang
le you’re looking at it from.’
CHAPTER 75
Anna
A half-light falls across the kitchen through the doors from the garden. I hold the letter in front of my face, the words blurring through the tears which refuse to fall.
Dear Anna,
I could not let you leave without sending this note.
By now you’ll no doubt have heard that I have not been entirely honest. My reasons were complex, but what you need to know is that I didn’t know who the client was. I never knowingly deceived you, Anna. I promise you that – and I swear to you, in that sense, at least, my intentions were always good.
One of my great regrets is not being able to tell you about Meg. I have an inkling of how much it hurt you, her leaving so suddenly like that, and I want you to know it was my fault. She didn’t choose to abandon you. I made a mistake, thinking she was the one who could lead me to David. And when she pushed back, when it became clear that it was you who I needed, I had to scare her off. If she’d stayed she might have let it slip to you and I couldn’t risk her jeopardising what we were doing. If I’m honest, I was cross with myself for not seeing straight away that you were the obvious target, because in hindsight I should have seen that you were more vulnerable, more susceptible to my approach. But then maybe I was sensing something about you that told me, despite everything, you are stronger than you think. And I need you to know that, because if you let yourself, you will be everything those girls need, and more.
Another regret is that I even let you carry on. Twice, when you held out on me, I had the opportunity to let you go. Perhaps, subconsciously, you were giving me permission to cut you loose, or perhaps that’s looking too deeply into what happened. But still, I could have taken the chance to free you from this. I could have made up a reason to the agency for letting you go; better still, I could have warned you, and you and the girls could have fled. Before all this unravelled. Before we came to where we are now, the point of no return.
But at the time, I thought what we were doing was for the greater good. I believed that we were sacrificing ourselves in the name of justice. I was, for want of a better word, an eejit. In my defence, I only found out who we were dealing with long after I drew you into this; the man who told me was the same friend who had recruited me to the agency in the first place, at that stage not knowing himself what sort of rotten ship he was hauling me on board; the same man who warned me once he discovered who the client was, and tipped me off that Witherall knew too.
There was an informant inside the agency, you see, pushing word back, all along. And then he was discovered. You might have thought an ex-spook would know better than to contact the man he was tipping off from a company computer belonging to the investigations agency he was betraying, but sometimes you can’t make this shit up.
Anna, as soon as I found out, I tried to get you out, but you wouldn’t leave. After you told me what you had found out about Nguema, that day we met by Charterhouse Street, I was so furious at you for having held out on me, but I was ultimately furious with myself. You were right, it wasn’t your fault, but there were things going on, things I couldn’t tell you about. I was getting threats warning me to drop the case, which I now know were from Clive’s people. That on top of trying to deal with the work-load, and my guilt over what was happening to you … I was falling apart. It gets to you, this life. Not that I need to tell you that.
After we met on Charterhouse Street, I took the information back to my bosses, expecting them to cheer me on, expecting them to be thrilled. But after that, the case was suddenly pulled. That was as much as the client needed to know, they said. The case was now closed. It didn’t make sense and the closer I looked into it, the more I realised there was to uncover. All along it was Nguema who was paying our salary, trying to find out how easily he could be implicated; how easily evidence against him could be found.
That was when the threats started to escalate. But I never stopped looking for the truth. When I saw you that night at the charity ball for David’s old firm, I was with another of my informants, an old colleague of David’s – I hadn’t expected you to be there, which was foolish of me. And then when you sent me that message saying you were going to expose yourself, and me, well, I had to get rid of you.
I had to save your life – and mine. Sometimes I wonder what you thought you were getting yourself into. And I blame myself, for not being a better judge, for bringing you into something you did not deserve to be made part of.
In any case, that is when I came up with the plan of sending you back to Greece. I imagine you will know by now that that mission was an invention. Of course, the receipt was of no use to anyone, and frankly I didn’t have much faith that it would still be there at all. All I was certain of was that if Witherall was involved with Nguema, the only way to ensure your safety was by sending you on that final mission. By getting you to leave for good.
But then, David.
The truth is I no longer feel safe, and you are not either. The men we were working for, they are, for want of a better word, bad people, Anna. I am so sorry for bringing you into this. I hope one day you will find a way to forgive me, for everything.
You have to do as Maria asks, and leave. You are not safe. Please, take your girls and go. Anywhere. One day maybe our paths will cross again, and in the meantime Maria and I have a plan to see this through, but you cannot be part of it, and I am so sorry that you ever were.
Now, you must go, and so must I. It is getting late, but then it always was.
Yours,
Harry
In that moment, I feel my life stop. The world, as I know it, grinding to a halt, so that when I look up, a moment later, I am surprised to find my eyes capable of movement, amidst the freeze-frame. Through the window of this room, in the garden, I see my daughters, careering down the hill on the balance bikes David had spent days researching, insisting it was the way to get them to understand how to ride unassisted by stabilisers.
I blink and they are gone, and I know now that I will never see them again.
As I hold the letter in front of my face, I notice, for the first time, that it is raining, and I blink again, trying to clear the images that have begun to rotate in my mind; the thoughts tumbling over each other now; the faces skidding in front of me: Harry, David, Felicity, Clive, Nguema, Maria, Meg, the girls.
Crying out, I feel my chest constrict, then a knock on the front door as the letter box opens and even from here, through the hallway, I see two eyes fix me from the outside world.
Before I can turn to run, I hear the voice.
‘Anna, it’s me. Open the door.’
Acknowledgements
Being unashamedly nosy, and interested in the mechanics of writing, I’ve always ogled the Acknowledgements pages of a novel with a mixture of curiosity and baffled wonder. How could a single book require quite so many ‘thank yous’? Having finally come to the end of the writing process, myself – after 35 years of dreaming of this moment – I now understand how many hearts and minds (both stretched to the point of breaking, at times) are involved. It is no exaggeration when I say that without my agent, Julia Silk, I may never have finished this book. From the outset, she has rallied, mentored and urged me along when I might otherwise have closed my laptop and succumbed to the voice telling me to give up. Julia’s determination, composure and unwavering belief in me, and this story, has been a guiding light, and I couldn’t be more grateful or eternally indebted to her for all the support – and the fun – along the way.
My editor, Ann Bissell, is a master and a true joy to work with. Unflappable and whip-smart, she instantly understood what I wanted to achieve with this book, and how to draw the best from the world within its pages. Together with Felicity Denham – my personal champion and publicist extraordinaire – she and the gang at Borough Press have been the real-deal dream team.
Huge thanks to my first reader Laura Gerrard, whose passion for this book, and wisdom, spurred me on when I neede
d reassurance. To Jason Bean (AKA #ShitSpy) for all your insights, I salute you. Thanks, too, to my Greek goddess, Vilma Nikolaidou. And massive love to my friends and fellow writers who have fed me wine and words of encouragement along the way, not least: Rebecca Schiller, Rebecca Ley Ellson, Alicia Kirby, Clare Dwyer Hogg, Wendy Ide, Ruth Whippman, Jess Clark, Bridie Woodward, Hannah Foster, Tamsin Clay, Emily Freud, Aoife Ledwidge, Charlotte Haworth, Alex Joyce, Louise McMahon, my book-club babes, and my brother from another mother, Henry Kirk. And to those who send love and encouragement from afar – not least my dear cousin, the original Anna.
Ultimately, though, nothing would be possible without the endless support and tireless love and energies of my long-suffering husband Barney, and my mum, who between them have been the foundations of everything. Thank you, a million times, thank you. Special thank you, too, to Sandra Fordham, for all that you’ve done and do.
To my dad, who would have enjoyed raising a toast (or 12) to this moment: bottoms up, old boy! To Mandy, Jo, Tommy, Harry, Greg, Glen, Mark and Lorna, with love, and to Grandma Joan and Grandpa Basil, whom I can almost hear cheering me along. Not forgetting Grampa Kimsky, whose curious endeavours became the genesis of this novel. Last, but by no means least, to my dear children: thank you for being the most astonishingly joyful, unconditionally loving, and wonderfully bonkers souls – and for understanding when I snap, or forget, or simply fall short in one of many ways. I love you to the moon and back.
IF YOU ENJOYED THE MOST DIFFICULT THING, THEN WATCH OUT FOR CHARLOTTE PHILBY’S NEXT BOOK
A Duplicitous Life blends domestic suspense with contemporary espionage in a page-turning and chilling exploration of how a split-second decision can change a life forever …
Published in hardback, eBook and audio
July 2020
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