Chapter Six

She moved towards the high-backed chair in front of the desk.

Greyhaven chuckled, pointing over her shoulder. There was a closed white door.

'I have a flat... an apartment here. It's a little less formal. You don't mind that?'

'No, not at all,' she said in a giddy-schoolgirl voice that she immediately regretted.

Greyhaven walked over to the door and held it open for Eve.

'Again, not very large, but a useful pied-á-terre. It makes commuting to work easy, if nothing else.'

The room was almost filled by a vast leather sofa and a low glass table, much of the rest of the space was taken up by a little kitchen unit. Two doors led off: bathroom and bedroom, Eve guessed.

They walked over to the sofa together. Greyhaven sat down; Eve hovered for a moment. There was another good view of the Thames from here. Hanging on the wall was a neat row of photographs: Greyhaven with other senior politicians and scientists and various social events and public occasions.

'Is that the Queen? Sorry, that's a really dumb question.'

He watched her as she scrutinised them. 'A touch of ostentation, I'm afraid.'

The same fine middle-aged woman appeared on a couple of the photographs. 'Your wife?'

He smiled. 'Yes. Sit down.' He was pouring a generous double whisky for her. She sat close to him and took a sip of the whisky. As she had expected, it was the best she'd ever tasted.

'Does your wife know?' she asked.

Greyhaven arched his eyebrow. 'Know what?'

She leant over him, kissing his cheek, a little awkwardly.