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“I’ll look for a job near Martin and Paulo’s. They’re happy for me to live with them.”

Don’t ask him. Don’t say it. “Like to go travelling with me?”

Zeph’s eyes welled up. “You mean like a holiday?”

Jack nodded.

“I…I… A holiday?”

“Shouldn’t I have asked you?”

Zeph shot him one of his brilliant smiles. “I’m glad you asked me. Give me a while to earn some money and the answer’s yes.”

“I can pay.”

“No way. I’m not letting you. Unless you need to go straight away in which case I’ll borrow the money from Martin, then work at the end of the holiday to pay him back.” Zeph beamed. “I can’t believe it. I…” He threw his arms around Jack, pushed him down on his back and hugged him.

Jack was a selfish idiot and he’d made an offer he shouldn’t have. But Zeph’s excitement stopped him taking it back. Why shouldn’t he have a holiday? Every time he’d gone anywhere with Thomas, there was some job to do. Even if it was just reconnoitring, it was still work.

He deserved this. Does Zeph deserve me? No, but…

Zeph fell asleep at his side and Jack lay awake.

When he and Thomas had left Middleton, Jack had been in a rage.

Thomas had told him it was just a crush.

It wasn’t. But Jack had said nothing because Thomas wouldn’t have changed his mind about moving, so there was no point.

When they were back in the UK, he might have guessed Jack would seek out Zeph, but he’d said nothing either.

Jack had needed to see him, needed to be reassured he was okay.

He’d thought he was but when Zeph had told him he wasn’t happy, Jack realised he’d made assumptions and he knew better.

He didn’t know whether he had a group of friends, whether he went to parties…

All he’d really seen was that Zeph had never had a boyfriend at any time Jack had been in the city.

He hadn’t wanted Zeph to wait for him, but that’s what he’d done.

That knowledge filled him with joy and despair. Jack didn’t know how to deal with the way Zeph made him feel. Emotions had been suppressed for so long, he was at sea with no stars to guide him. All he could see was Zeph still there for him.

Even so, he had a job to do in Cambridge and he couldn’t let anything get in the way of that. At least Zeph would have no idea what he was up to.

Jack left before Zeph woke, but he wrote a note. I have to work today. I’ll take you out for dinner tonight. J. He added his phone number. If Zeph had other plans, he could tell him.

He returned to his hotel in the early hours and was shocked when he walked in to see his target drinking in the bar with the two male companions who’d flown to the UK with him.

They were the only ones in there, but they’d looked up and seen him which was unfortunate.

Hopefully they’d viewed him as just another late night drinker like them.

Jack went up to his room. Sergei Golonov, Russian military intelligence, had poisoned an American senator in Washington, then fled the country.

This trip to see his daughter at Cambridge University was the first time he’d left Russia in five years.

The Americans had long memories and called in a favour from the British.

The UK authorities could have arrested him, but he’d not have been held for long.

Jack would have liked to have given Golonov a taste of his own medicine, literally, but the guy was paranoid.

One of the two sitting downstairs with him tasted his food and drink.

There was CCTV in the corridor leading to his room, so Jack kept his head down.

Pointless rigging the door or anything inside his room to show tampering because the rooms were cleaned daily.

Jack thought it was more suspicious to constantly use a do not disturb notice.

But as he stepped inside, he stayed alert.

He closed the door, switched on the light, looked and listened before he moved. All seemed fine.

A few minutes of checking more thoroughly reassured him no one other than a cleaner had been in there.

His backpack had not been touched. Not that there was anything to find.

Ten minutes later, he was in bed with a chair in front of the door.

Tomorrow, Golonov would die and Jack would check out of the hotel and move in with Zeph.

The night before a mission, he usually ran through what he’d done in preparation, what he still needed to do, what action to take if plan A failed…but his head was full of Zeph and thoughts of where they could go on holiday and Thomas’s reaction when he inevitably found out.

Jack was eating toast in the dining room on the ground floor of the hotel when Golonov and the other two came in.

He’d relied on their timing of the last two days continuing today, and it had.

The usual pattern was to arrive for breakfast at eight, then return to their rooms next to one another on the floor below Jack, then meet to go out thirty minutes later.

Jack left the dining room before them and returned to his room.

The biggest risk was being seen climbing down to Golonov’s window.

And climbing up, if he needed to, and he probably would.

If Golonov didn’t go into his room alone, Jack would have two men to deal with.

Hopefully, not three. The food taster looked unlikely to be a problem.

Jack could tell by the way he held himself that he wasn’t a fighter. The other guy was more of an issue.

The descent wasn’t difficult wearing socks with rubber soles.

Falling would either kill him or result in serious injury but he wasn’t afraid of heights.

Snakes yes, heights no. The window popped open in the way he’d practised with his room and he slipped inside.

He waited in the bathroom with his silenced gun in his gloved hand.

He’d leave no fingerprints. He’d already wiped down his room.

His heart rate was steady, as was his blood pressure.

No stress hormones were racing through his body.

Nerves were not an issue. Nor was he scared. He was focused.

When he had a choice, he preferred sniper work, but that wasn’t possible in this case.

Cambridge was too busy, too built up and he didn’t want to risk innocent people getting hurt.

When he heard someone come into the room, he looked through the crack in the bathroom door.

Golonov, and he was alone. Jack waited for him to approach.

He heard Golonov cough as he stepped nearer.

The guy didn’t even have time to look surprised before Jack put a bullet in his head.

He slumped to the floor. No need for a double tap. Jack pocketed the casing.

A moment later, he was back out of the window, which he secured, and climbing up to his room.

He was fortunate about the way the building had been designed.

Not easy hand and foot holds, but manageable.

Now his heart was beating faster. He washed the blood splatter off his face and gunpower residue from his hands.

There would still be residue on his clothes but not much.

The gun went into his backpack. He put on his shoes, wiped his keycard and left the hotel.

He’d already checked out online. All he needed to do was dispose of his gloves and the gun.

He caught the bus to Grantchester, once the home of Lord Byron and went to look at the Old Vicarage, which had been immortalised in one of Rupert Brooke’s poems. He wondered if Zeph had visited here, if he still wrote poetry.

Thomas liked poetry. Jack, not so much, but he’d studied the poets Thomas had told him to.

He stood and looked at the vicarage from a distance.

Brooke had longed to be back in Grantchester.

The poem had contrasted the world he was in with nostalgia for home .

Say, is there Beauty yet to find?And Certainty?

and Quiet kind?Stands the Church clock at ten to three?

And is there honey still for tea? The words always made something catch in Jack’s throat, thoughts of a life that had never been his.

Thomas had made it clear Jack had to keep control of his emotions, but didn’t reading poetry open your mind to emotion? Jack knew how Brooke felt because he’d had that longing too. Zeph was his home and he couldn’t give him up.

It was a two-and-a-half-mile pleasant stroll back to Cambridge along the Cam.

The gun had been broken down and disposed of in the river.

The weapon was clean and couldn’t be traced to him, but Jack took no chances.

Guns were relatively easy to source. Documents weren’t.

He’d spent more on ID, passports, birth certificates and driver’s licences than he ever had on a weapon.

He used suppliers only until they became greedy.

Thomas had told him not to take it personally.

People were greedy. Criminals in particular.

But no one could take advantage without consequence. One less supplier to deal with.

Jack called in at The Orchard Tea Garden and ordered avocado and poached egg on toast along with coffee, then sat and watched the world go by. Even then, he was still alert for anything that didn’t look right.

The old lady with her dog was no threat. Nor the three women. Lone men and women were worth more consideration, but there was no danger here. Only from him. The gloves went into a wastebin outside the restaurant.

When he was almost back in Cambridge, he called Thomas.

“You wait until now?” Thomas asked. “I have to find out from other sources?”

“Ah. Sorry. I’m okay.”

“I do worry, you know.”

“It’s all fine.”

Even though they were speaking on a secure network, there was no point taking chances.

“When are you leaving?” Thomas asked.

“Not yet.”

Jack heard Thomas exhale.

“You do know this is not a good idea,” Thomas said finally.

“I’m allowed them occasionally.”

“Not if it risks your life or mine.”