‘No. I break into their systems with their permission. But for that, I have to know and employ people who do know how to hack.’
They were both silent. They could hear the roar of traffic and the grumble of a train.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as she blinked back tears.
‘With everything that’s happened, there have been times when I really feel as if I don’t know you, Nick. And do you know what has felt far worse than being cheated and lied to? It’s being made to feel utterly stupid, naïve and foolish. Right now is one of those times.’
He leant in to look at her.
‘It’s not my dream job, Abby. I’d rather be a surf instructor, a photographer, something that gets me outside with the sun on my face. But what I do pays well, I’m good at it, and I provide a service that people need. If you want to write this story, if Jonathon Soames is KGB or a Soviet asset and helped destroy his friend, and if you want to nail him, then I think I can help you. Because from the moment I saw you, all I have wanted to do is be by your side and do just that.’
It took a few moments for Abby to realise she was crying. She blinked hard and took a sip from her glass of tap water.
‘So what do you say?’
She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that she wanted to try and make things right.
Finally she nodded.
‘Is that a yes?’ he smiled.
‘My very own James Bond,’ she said quietly.
Nick’s expression turned sad.
‘We let it go, didn’t we? The fun, the excitement, the adventure. When did we let it all get so difficult?’
The waiter came over with the bill on a tiny silver platter. Nick took out his wallet and put three ten-pound notes under the money clip.
‘He’s the one, isn’t he?’ he said before they stood up to leave. ‘You said you’d met someone and it’s him, isn’t it? Elliot Hall.’
‘It’s over,’ she said quietly.
‘Is it?’
When it came to affairs of the heart, Abby wasn’t sure if she knew anything any more.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Anna, this place is amazing,’ said Abby as her friend’s hen party posse arrived at the hotel suite on the South Bank. She ran over to the window, from where she could see all the way down the dark ribbon of the Thames: the London Eye with its egg-shaped pods glowing blue against the night sky; the bright lights of the City.
‘Matt’s treat,’ smiled Anna as a bare-chested butler appeared out of nowhere with ten glasses of champagne on a silver platter.
‘It must have cost him a flipping fortune. Did he even throw in the butler?’ said Abby, dropping her voice to a whisper. ‘If he did, that’s what I call a modern marriage,’ she giggled.
‘Actually Matt’s dad, Larry, knows the owners and got it at a very good rate. And I hired the butler. You can never have too much of a good view,’ Anna said, eyeing his rippling torso.
Abby flopped back on to the bus-sized sofa feeling very, very tired. It had been a long day. They’d had spa treatments at the Aveda Institute, taken a Thames boat cruise from Westminster to Tower Bridge and had afternoon tea at the Shard. Anna was still dressed in a pink tutu, which she claimed made her look more like Peppa Pig than Sarah Jessica Parker, and except when she’d been having the deep moisturising facial, Abby didn’t think she’d stopped laughing all day.
She’d managed to forget all about Nick and their separation, forgotten about Rosamund, Dominic and Elliot Hall, and had spent the day having fun with her friends.
‘What’s for dinner?’ asked Suze, popping a Parma-ham-wrapped fig into her mouth. ‘Will Sophie be cooking?’ Sophie was Anna’s famous TV chef sister.
‘No, she’s got her assistant to cater for us,’ replied Anna diplomatically. It was common knowledge that Anna had a difficult relationship with her sister, after Sophie had had an affair with and subsequently married Anna’s ex-boyfriend.
Suze rolled her eyes. ‘Assistant does cooking shocker. Does Sophie ever do anything for that show of hers? I’ve heard of a dumbwaiter, but she’s like telly’s dummy chef.’
‘Ssh, she’ll hear you,’ said Anna, stifling a giggle.