Page 105 of The Last Kiss Goodbye

Ros waited a few seconds before she spoke again.

‘Why do you think the Last Goodbye story was so popular? Why have so many copies of the picture been sold?’ she said finally, locking eyes with Abby and not removing her gaze. ‘Because it represents hope,’ she went on without waiting for an answer. ‘Love and hope. Whether it’s in someone’s misty past, or somewhere in their future, everyone wants to believe that someone loves them that much too. But if Dominic was a Soviet spy, that picture, our love, would have been a fake, a lie. No one wants to feel deceived by love.’

‘You can say that again,’ mumbled Abby softly. She glanced at the postcard in Ros’s hand.

‘Abby, please. I did everything I could to find Dominic. I was this far from a breakdown,’ Ros said, putting her thumb and finger together to indicate the smallest of margins. ‘In the end it was my parents who forced me to call off the search. They made me see that Dominic would not want me to destroy myself looking for answers I was never going to find. It was why I resisted your attempt to investigate his disappearance. Because I knew it was futile. Not just because you’re unlikely to find anything even if you did go to the Amazon, but because whatever you do isn’t going to bring him back.’

‘Then why are you here now?’ asked Abby softly.

Rosamund’s eyes trailed to the white card.

‘Because somebody knows something. Not Gorshkov or Elliot, but the person who sent this. The man I love is gone, but I have to prove his innocence.’

Abby looked at her, wondering if what she really meant was that she had to prove his love. Ros’s faith in Dominic seemed unshakeable, but Abby knew first-hand what it felt like to be betrayed.

‘And you think I can help you?’

‘You’ve got a head start on anyone else.’

‘Anyone except Elliot.’

Ros gave her a soft smile.

‘You remind me of myself when I was starting out in journalism. You have that same belief in the truth.’

Abby nodded to accept the compliment.

‘If only we knew who had sent the card. But how on earth are we supposed to track them down? It’s got a WC2 postmark. Hundreds of thousands of people send letters from this postal area. It’s one of the busiest in the world.’

‘Maybe that’s the point. The person who sent this didn’t want to be found out.’

‘Graphology?’ said Abby weakly.

‘My CIA contacts aren’t particularly up to date,’ smiled Ros.

A couple of Chelsea Pensioners walked slowly past, their red jackets as vivid as summer poppies bending in the wind.

‘I bet Elliot knows someone,’ said Abby. ‘I’d say it’s acceptable to dance with the devil when he’s got something you want.’

Rosamund laughed.

‘I’m seeing him this evening,’ said Abby, realising that her decision about whether or not to meet Elliot had been made for her.

‘See? You’re good at this,’ said Rosamund.

Abby grinned. ‘I’m working on it.’

On their way back to the gate, they made their plan, a checklist of people to contact and places to go. As they talked, Abby could see Ros becoming more alert and alive. Abby glanced at her watch and flagged a black cab. She wasn’t going far, but she was in a hurry to get started. ‘Can I drop you anywhere?’ she asked Rosamund, who was buttoning up her jacket.

‘Thanks for the offer, but no, I think I’ll go for a stroll by the river.’ She smiled. ‘Rivers always remind me of Dominic. We spent ten horrendous days trapped on a boat once. You see, it’s not always the good things that you remember.’

‘What if it turns out that you’re wrong?’ said Abby as the taxi drew up by the kerb. ‘What if Dominic really was a traitor?’

‘Then I will live with it. But if the two of us are half as smart and resourceful as I believe we are, I don’t think I will have to.’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Abigail,’ said Stephen, looking up from his laptop quizzically. ‘What are you doing in today? I thought we’d decided on Wednesdays and Thursdays.’