“Marshal Koshevoi is becoming somewhat restless, Comrade Brandt. He thinks it’s time you came up with something a little more tangible. After all, you’ve been living with Barrington for the past year and all you’ve produced so far is the minutes of the Labour Party’s weekly meetings in the House of Lords. Hardly illuminating.”
“I have to be careful, comrade director,” said Karin as they walked arm in arm down a quiet country lane. “If Barrington were to become suspicious and my cover was blown, all our painstaking preparations would have been for nothing. And while he’s in opposition, and not a member of the government, he isn’t privy to what’s going on in Whitehall. But if the Labour Party wins the next election, and Barrington is confident they will, that could all change overnight. And if I recall your exact words when I took on this assignment, ‘We are not in a hurry, we’re in this for the long game.’”
“That is still the case, comrade. However, I’m becoming concerned that you might be enjoying your bourgeois existence as Barrington’s mistress a little too much, and have forgotten where your true allegiance lies.”
“I joined the party when I was still at school, comrade director, and have always been dedicated to our cause. You have no reason to question my loyalty.”
Tap, tap, tap. They fell silent when they saw an elderly gentleman approaching.
“Good afternoon, colonel,” said Pengelly.
“Afternoon, John. How nice to see your daughter again,” said the old man, raising his hat.
“Thank you, colonel,” said Pengelly. “She’s just down for the day, and we thought a breath of country air wouldn’t do us any harm.”
“Capital,” said the colonel. “I rarely miss my constitutional. Gets me out of the house. Well, must be getting along, or the memsahib will be wondering where I am.”
“Of course, sir.” Pengelly didn’t speak again until they could no longer hear the tap, tap, tap of the colonel’s walking stick. “Has Barrington asked you to marry him?” he asked, taking Karin by surprise.
“No, comrade director, he has not. After two failed marriages, I don’t think he’ll be rushing into a third.”
“Perhaps if you were to become pregnant?” he said as they turned off the road and followed a path that led to a disused tin mine.
“What use would I be to the party then, if I had to spend all my time bringing up a child? I’m a trained operative, not a babysitter.”
“Then let’s see some proof of it, Comrade Brandt, because I can’t go on telling my masters in Moscow tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, like a parrot.”
“Barrington is attending an important meeting in Brussels next Monday, when he’ll witness the signing of the treaty that will make Britain a member of the EEC. He’s asked me to accompany him. I may be able to pick up some useful information as there will be a lot of foreign delegates around.”
“Good. With so many ambitious politicians all trying to prove how important they are, be sure to keep your ears open, especially at dinners and casual get-togethers. They have no idea how many languages you speak. And don’t switch off in the evening, when they’ll be relaxed after a drink or two and more likely to say something they might later regret, especially to a beautiful woman.”
Karin looked at her watch. “We’d better turn back. I’m supposed to be in Bristol in time for dinner with Giles and his family.”
“Wouldn’t want you to miss that,” said Pengelly, as they began to retrace their steps. “And do remember to wish Giles … a happy Christmas.”
*
On the journey back from Truro to Bristol, Karin couldn’t stop thinking about the dilemma she now faced. During the past year she had fallen deeply in love with Giles and had never been happier in her life, but she’d become trapped, playing a role she no longer believed in, and she couldn’t see a way out of the maze. If she suddenly stopped supplying information for the Stasi, her masters would call her back to Berlin, or worse. If she lost Giles, she would have nothing to live for. By the time she drove through the gates of the Manor House, the dilemma hadn’t been resolved, and wouldn’t be, unless …
*
“Is Karin joining us for dinner?” asked Emma as she poured her brother a whisky.
“Yes, she’s driving up from Cornwall. She’s been to visit her father, so she may be a little late.”
“She’s so bright and full of life,” said Emma. “I can’t imagine what she sees in you.”
“I agree. And it’s not as if she doesn’t know how I feel about her, because I’ve asked her to marry me enough times.”
“Why do you think she keeps turning you down?” asked Harry.
“With my track record, who can blame her? But I think she may be weakening.”
“That’s good news, and I’m so pleased you’ll both be joining us for Christmas.”
“And how are you enjoying the Lords these days?” asked Harry, changing the subject.