‘But do you believe that Dominic Blake was a spy? You knew him better than anyone,’ Abby said, flattering the old woman.
She expected Victoria to vehemently deny it, but she did not.
‘Perhaps. There were rumours about a lot of our crowd. I mixed with influential people, Miss Gordon.’
‘Do you know who EZ was? He was Russian. I found his initials and mentions of espionage in a document in the National Archives.’
Victoria gave a tiny shrug. ‘That could have been Eugene Zarkov. He was a naval attaché at the Russian embassy. He was a bit intense but rather dishy. Came to my house a number of times.’
‘I think he was a Russian spy,’ said Abby flatly.
‘Entirely possible.’
‘Is he still alive?”
‘You’re the journalist.’
Right now, Abby felt wholly ill-equipped and out of her depth. It was fine in St Petersburg, when she’d had Elliot at her side leading the interview, but she really didn’t know what to ask. She felt a grudging respect for him.
‘Do you have any idea where I could find Zarkov?’
‘No,’ said Victoria simply.
Abby felt a flutter of panic, as if sand were running through her fingers. She couldn’t come away from here with nothing. If Victoria, one of Dominic’s closest friends, couldn’t shed any light on his involvement with the KGB, she wasn’t sure where she could turn next.
‘So you’ve met Rosamund?’ said Victoria finally. ‘When you called, wanting to meet me, you said you were friends.’
Abby nodded, not wanting to give away that Ros was waiting in the car. As old and withered as she was, Victoria’s poise and sharp tongue were still intimidating, and Abby could understand why her friend did not want to be here.
‘How is she?’ asked Victoria.
‘She is a wonderful woman.’
‘Yes, she is.’ Victoria nodded, her expression full of emotion.
‘You know, she’s desperate to know what happened to Dominic.’
‘We all were. Dommy was one of my dearest friends. But I think perhaps we should just remember him the way he was. I know you want to help, Miss Gordon, but it’s better that those who loved him accept that he’s dead and cherish the memories that we have. Including Ros. Especially Ros.’
Tracey popped her head around the door to tell Victoria that she needed her walk, and Abby knew that their meeting had come to a close.
‘Send her my very best regards,’ said Victoria slowly.
Abby nodded, shook the old woman’s thin hand and left the room with a heavy sense of disappointment. Wandering down the dark corridor, she thought about what she should do next. She had a sense that Eugene Zarkov could be the key to finding out what she wanted, and she wondered how she could go about tracking him down.
She stopped as she saw Rosamund standing by the nurses’ station. She was reading a selection of birthday cards propped up on the shelf that Abby had noticed on her arrival.
Abby smiled as she approached. Clearly the older woman had had a change of heart. She’d known Ros was not the type to stay in the car; no matter how difficult it was going to be for her, she had decided to come and confront Victoria. Abby felt a flutter of pride for her new friend as she stopped in front of her and watched her take one of the birthday cards off the shelf.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked in surprise. She had expected a barrage of questions from Ros about Victoria, about their meeting, about EZ. Instead her eyes were transfixed on the card.
‘I should talk to Victoria,’ said Ros finally.
‘I think she has to go for a walk, but I’m sure we could pop back in,’ said Abby.
They headed back towards Victoria’s room, but were stopped by Tracey coming out of the loo.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, putting her hand on Abby’s shoulder. ‘Victoria needs her exercise now.’