A Quiet Life

It was not anger, but something like boredom, as if she had simply said what he had expected, that she saw on Valance’s face. If Stefan had been right about the evidence that had fallen into the hands of the Foreign Office, Valance must either know that Laura was lying, or think that Edward had kept her totally in the dark. Was he going to bring her in now, was the game over?

But Laura knew she had one thing on her side. Over these quiet weeks she had realised that there was no appetite on the part of the British government, unlike in the States, for any open accusations, any courtroom arguments or public statements, any airing of evidence and counter-evidence. Whenever she thought about why that was, she put it down to embarrassment – the embarrassment of admitting that they had kept a traitor in the American embassy all those years, sending him to those sensitive meetings, allowing him to hear every word of the nuclear policy, every nuance of the negotiations for the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, and feed it all drip by drip, day by day, year by year to Stalin. But now, confronted by Valance and the regional accent that he was so eager to cover up, Laura recognised that it was also all about class, the intense fidelity to all that Edward’s family represented, everything that Laura had come to know as the group, whose every characteristic – the accents, the humour, the education, the clothes, the pastimes – compelled deference from everyone else, even from this man who was not quite part of it and yet wanted to be part of it. Even if he had the evidence, did he have the will to drive it home and destroy her?

So as Laura heard and responded to Valance’s questions, in a dance of half-revelation and retreats into secrecy, it was as though she was making him a silent promise – if they wanted to build some kind of wall around what they would see as this cesspit of treachery, she would help them build it. If they wanted to keep Edward’s secret close to their chests, she would do nothing that would mean they had to show their cards. Over and over again, as he questioned and she responded, she thought that he saw through her, but nothing was explicit and nothing became dangerous, until the end.

‘Tell me about why Mr Last chose that day to go away.’

‘I have no idea. I’ve told you, I don’t know why he went or where.’

‘We need to know how he knew things had become dangerous for him. Unless you give me the information, you – and your family – will not be left alone. Your daughter is young. We would not want to separate you so early.’

The air in the room seemed thick and lacking in oxygen. Laura was silent.

‘And tell me about Mr Last’s relationship with Nicholas Fergus.’

‘He rarely saw him. I think I met him once or twice, that’s all – only at parties.’

‘When Last was seeing a psychiatrist …’

‘A psychoanalyst.’

‘He reported that …’ and Valance made a great show of referring to his notes. Had Lvov given anything away? Would he be the weak link? ‘Ah, yes, that Last was suffering from homosexual tendencies.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Were you aware that your husband’s connection to Fergus was of that kind?’

‘That is a vile insinuation.’ But strangely, Laura found that it was no easier to speak the truth than it was to lie, and her voice sounded too reedy to be persuasive.

‘We have it here from this psychiatrist that Last was seeing on his return from Washington. Of course, Mr Fergus was notorious in that regard, it was why he was sent home from Washington. And we understand that Mr Fergus had often boasted about his … relationship with Mr Last. One colleague of Mr Last’s has told us that he saw them in a … compromising situation, on that Thursday at their club.’ He was looking straight into Laura’s face. It doesn’t take much to make a new mother break, but just at that moment Laura heard Rosa cry out in the next room and she stood up, saying she would be back in a moment.

When she returned, she was more composed, freshly powdered and lipsticked, and Valance moved on to the question of her travels. He told her that they had the powers to prevent her travelling, but that they would prefer not to do so, so long as she stayed near. Geneva was acceptable. But there was one condition. She was not to speak to the press under any circumstances at all. ‘It could seriously disrupt our investigations if you did.’

Laura understood, and she was quick to agree. She told him that he could rely on her silence at all times. At all times.

‘And will you let us know if your husband or anyone acting for him tries to contact you?’

‘That goes without saying.’ The interview was at an end. It was a relief, but as Valance left, how weak Laura felt. Mother came into the room some time later to find her sitting on the sofa, her head in her hands.

‘Can we go away?’

‘We can,’ she said, standing up and taking Rosa from her. Her weight was both reassuring and exhausting. ‘We can go.’ This place that once felt almost like home had become unbearable. It was time to leave.





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