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Thomas looked at his watch as though Zeph had asked him the time. “Painter Street in fifteen minutes. By the flower shop.” Then he walked on.

Zeph went in the opposite direction and once he’d turned the corner, he googled where he needed to go.

It wasn’t far. He headed in the wrong direction to start with, then looped round.

He arrived in exactly fifteen minutes. There was no sign of Thomas and Zeph realised he might not even turn up.

For all he knew, Thomas had checked out of the hotel and disappeared into the rabbit warren that was London.

But then he saw Thomas coming towards him and breathed a sigh of relief. Thomas didn’t stop when he reached him, but said, “Albas street on the left about two hundred metres from here. Go down it and turn first right into the alley.”

Zeph didn’t watch as Thomas walked away. Zeph kept checking his phone, as though he was waiting for someone and after a few minutes he followed.

As he turned right into the alley as instructed, an arm wrapped around his neck and yanked him into a doorway. Zeph didn’t resist though it crossed his mind he might not come out of this in one piece.

Thomas whispered, “Keep still. Be quiet.”

Zeph presumed he was checking no one was following.

After a few minutes, he released Zeph from the hold and swiftly patted him down. Zeph took a deep breath and fought the urge to rub his neck.

“How did you know I was staying in that hotel? Have you been tailing me?”

Zeph wasn’t sure what to say. He’d be in a lot of trouble if it was discovered that after he’d spotted Thomas, he’d not only traced him but approached him.

This is a mistake.

So make something up!

“I saw you in Covent Garden yesterday.” Zeph had seen him, but on CCTV, not in person. “I followed you back to the hotel. You went a roundabout route but…”

“Why did you follow me?”

“I want to speak to Jack.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He’s done with you!”

“I’d like to see him.”

“For Christ sakes, Zeph! Whatever you had is over, finished, not to be resurrected. Let. It. Go.”

“Is he involved in the mission you’re on?”

Zeph wasn’t sure who was more surprised by that question.

Thomas gaped at him and Zeph could hardly believe he’d asked it.

Thomas didn’t answer, but there was no point not continuing now.

Zeph was either wrong or right. He took another risk, felt his balls contract as he broke the official secrets act, and said, “Al-Talib.”

Thomas’s blank face told him nothing, but his subsequent exhalation told Zeph he was right. Shit!

Thomas stepped so close to Zeph that he could feel his breath hitting his face. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you’re up to. If anyone comes near us, we embrace.”

Zeph swallowed hard. “No tongues.”

At least that made Thomas chuckle but Zeph was scared of him.

“I’ll tell you what I can but I want to know stuff too,” Zeph said. “If it gets out that I’ve been talking to you, I’ll be sacked.” More than sacked.

“From GCHQ? I know that was what you wanted. But you’re in London. Ah… Seconded to…MI5?”

Zeph nodded.

“I’m not surprised. I suppose they recruited you at Cambridge.” He huffed. “Specialist in facial recognition?”

Another nod.

“I’ve been ID’d near Al-Talib?” Thomas asked.

“Yes.”

Zeph could see how annoyed Thomas was.

“In case you’re thinking of throwing me in the Thames, I’m not the only one who picked you out.”

“Right.”

“You were only seen three times in proximity to the Saudi. That could be coincidence.”

“But you kept looking once you’d seen me?”

“Yes. I’m guessing we might spot you a lot more if my boss decides to extend the parameters. Is Al-Talib a target?”

“Why were you tracking him?”

“Just doing my job,” Zeph said. Maths. The simplest sum. Putting two and two together. “We’re not told much but I know Al-Talib’s a bad guy. Are you planning to kill him? That’s what you and Jack do, isn’t it?” Zeph lowered his voice even more. “Kill people.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw the blood and mess outside the house in Middleton. Heard gunshots while I was hiding. You and Jack were calm. You knew what you were doing. Jack stayed to deal with the bodies while you got rid of me. You didn’t call the police.

Not that you’ll care but my father wants nothing to do with me.

If I’d knocked, he wouldn’t have let me in.

I spent Christmas Day shivering in a beach hut. ”

Thomas stared at him.

“You don’t hide and move around because you’re in witness protection. You do it because of your job. You kill for money. Professional assassins.” Zeph didn’t want to be right but he strongly suspected he was.

“Jack doesn’t want to do it. Not anymore.”

Really? Zeph’s heart jumped. “Since when?”

“Since he fell in love with you.”

Zeph clapped his hand to his mouth to stop the gasp escaping.

“And no, he didn’t tell me that but…” Thomas shrugged.

“Then why did he disappear from my life?”

“Because killing is the easy part. Getting away with it is much more difficult. No matter how careful you are, every hit leaves traces. Relationships are dangerous whatever the other person’s job.

But you told him you wanted to work for GCHQ and now you do.

Our world and yours are incompatible. Jack is indelibly linked to his past and to me and my past. Unfortunately, now your facial recognition software has me in its database, it makes it more difficult to complete my mission without being identified.

Can you wipe my details off your system? ”

Zeph thought about it. “Possibly.” It would be risky, especially if Evan noticed.

“Possibly isn’t good enough. I need Jack’s help. If Al-Talib isn’t dead by Saturday, the people who’ve contracted me, will kill Jack.”

Zeph gasped. “What? But why? How is he involved?”

“Better that you don’t know. If you want to keep Jack safe, then make sure nothing interferes with him doing his job.”

And you doing yours. Zeph head was aching. Was Thomas even telling him the truth? It might all be lies to stop him interfering.

“Give me your phone number. I’ll give it to Jack.”

Zeph did but wondered if Jack would ever get it.

“Neither of us kill innocent people.”

“Does that mean you never have?”

Thomas gave a grim smile. “No. But we’ve both done all we could to avoid it.”

“Can you give me Jack’s number?”

“No. Don’t bother following me. I won’t be returning to that hotel.”

Thomas strode off and Zeph’s shoulders fell. He wasn’t sure how well he’d handled that. He didn’t want to go straight home. What if Thomas followed him? The idea of being a body in a suitcase made Zeph shudder. He couldn’t trust anything Thomas had said.

Zeph went to The Dog and Partridge. Partly to give himself an alibi, albeit a shaky one, and partly because he just didn’t want to go straight back to his flat.

He couldn’t say anything to anyone, particularly Evan.

But he wasn’t there, so Zeph sat with a group from work, drank a half-pint of lager and joined in a conversation about wild swimming with his brain on an entirely different track, then made his excuses and left.

By the time he got off the train in Greenwich, his state of mind had not improved.

He’d had nothing to eat and now he was almost at his building and couldn’t remember what he had in the fridge.

He’d kept hoping Jack would call, but he hadn’t.

He shouldn’t have said any of that to Thomas.

Oh God, I’m going to lose my job. I might go to prison.

The assassin bit had been a guess but it was all that was left if it wasn’t witness protection.

Except, what if the authorities didn’t want Al-Talib dead? It was quite possible they just wanted details of who he met. So who would want the Saudi dead? Who’d paid Thomas?

Stop thinking about it! He’d been so busy worrying, he’d forgotten to do any countersurveillance and had no idea if Thomas, or anyone else had followed him back. Zeph groaned. Too late now.

He went up on the lift on a slow journey to the seventh floor because he’d pressed every button in a last-ditch attempt to throw off anyone following.

As he opened his door, he smelt soy sauce.

That was weird. He took one step inside and panicked.

There was no reason for the aroma of soy sauce to be in the air. He’d not eaten Chinese food for weeks.

Ah. Zeph took a deep breath, closed the door and took off his coat. His heart thumped. But not with fear. He doubted assassins would consume a Chinese takeaway before they dispatched their target.

Was this Thomas or Jack?

He stepped into the kitchen and the ache in his heart eased, as did the pain in his head. Jack looked the same. A little older but still jaw-droppingly attractive. His, but never really his.

“Hello, Zeph.”

He wanted to fling himself into Jack’s arms but his feet appeared to be stuck to the floor.

“I bought dinner. I’ll heat it up.”

Zeph watched as Jack took bowls from the cupboard and chopsticks from the drawer. He knew where everything was. How long had he been here? Jack poured two glasses of water and pulled out a chair for Zeph to sit down.

“How do you know where I live?” Zeph asked. “I only gave Thomas my phone number.”

Jack shrugged. He put two plastic containers on the table and put two more into the microwave. Zeph sat down.

“How did you know?” Zeph repeated.

“I’ve always known where you were.”

“You’ve been stalking me?”

“I’d never hurt you.”

Oh God, Jack, you’ve hurt me so many times. And every time, Zeph had forgiven him. Maybe not straightaway, but…

“How are you?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Actually, as far from fine as he could possibly be.

“I know about the cancer coming back.”

Zeph exhaled, deflating like a balloon.

“I saw you in the hospital. I came to see you several times but I never let you see me.”

Zeph’s eyes filled up. I wish you had . Just once.