could improve this, of course, but have a look at it and see if it means anything.’ She stared at the small group of men, standing on the steps of a large institutional-looking building, and in particular at the figure that had been arrowed. A man a little older than she was, wearing a dark suit and looking sombre. ‘Mean anything?’ asked Fane. His tone was light but he was staring keenly at her. She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ But she kept looking at the photograph, and in particular the eyes. They were dark and unusually large. There was something familiar in the gaze, something she had seen before. Fane started to say something, but she shook her head for silence. Memories were stirring, a confused collection of them slowly starting to take form in her mind. It had been a long time ago – a world away. But where? She’d joined the Service straight after university and had come to London. Apart from a posting in Belfast, she hadn’t lived anywhere else for longer than a month or two. Surely she couldn’t have met him at home, when she’d been visiting her parents in Wiltshire. But she had the feeling she had been young when she met him. Could it have been before she joined the Service?
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