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nobody within earshot, pine forest to the left, steep dropto the valley on the right. A short sharp descent to the bottom of the one and only lift, so no fear of losing touch, obligatory cut-off point at the top, any follow-up questions to be dealt with on the next ascent.
    It’s a sparkling winter’s morning, perfect snow. Prue has pleaded fictional tummy trouble and taken herself shopping. Steff had been out on the tiles with her young Italians tillGod knows what hour, but seemed none the worse for it, and pleased to be getting some alone-time with Dad. Obviously there was no way I could go into detail about my shady past beyond explaining that I’d never been a real diplomat, just a pretend one, which was the reason why I’d never landed a knighthood or an ambassadorship to Beijing, so maybe she could leave that one out now that I’d come homebecause it was seriously getting on my nerves.
    I’d
like
to have told her why I’d failed to phone her on her fourteenth birthday, because I knew it still rankled. I’d
like
to have explained that I had been sitting on the Estonian side ofthe Russian border in thick snow praying to God my agent would make it through the lines under a pile of sawn timber. I’d
like
to have given her some idea ofhow it had felt for her mother and me to live together under non-stop surveillance as members of the Office’s Station in Moscow where it could take ten days to clear or fill a dead letter box, knowing that, if you put a foot out of place, your agent is likely to die in hell. But Prue had insisted that our Moscow tour was the part of her life she did not want revisited, adding in her usual forthrightway:
    ‘And I don’t think she needs to know we fucked for the Russian cameras either, darling’ – relishing our rediscovered sex life.
    *
    Steff and I grab a T-bar and away we go. First time up, we chat about my homecoming and how little I know of the old country I’ve been serving half my life, so a lot to learn, Steff, a lot to get used to, as I’m sure you understand.
    ‘Like no more lovely tax-freebooze when we come to visit you!’ she wails, and we share a hearty father–daughter laugh.
    Time to uncouple, and down the mountain we sail, Steff leading. So a really good soft opening to our tête-à-tête.
    ‘And there’s
no
disgrace to serving your country in
any
capacity, darling’ – Prue’s counsel ringing in my memory’s ear – ‘you and I may have differing views on patriotism, but Steff sees itas a curse on mankind, second only to religion. And keep the humour down. Humour at serious moments is simply an escape route as far as Steff’s concerned.’
    We hook up a second time and set off up the hill.
Now
. No jokes, no self-deprecation, no apology. And stick to the brief that Prue and I thrashed out together, no deviations. Staring hard ahead of me, I select a serious but not portentoustone.
    ‘Steff, there’s something about me that your mother and I feel it’s time you knew.’
    ‘I’m illegitimate,’ she says eagerly.
    ‘No, but I’m a spy.’
    She too is staring ahead of her. This wasn’t quite how I meant it to begin. Never mind. I say my piece as drafted, she listens. No eye contact so no stress. I keep it short and cool. So there you are, Steff, now you have it. I’ve been living anecessary lie, and that’s all I’m allowed to tell you. I may look like a failure, but I do have a certain status in my own Service. She doesn’t say anything. We reach the top, uncouple and set off down the hill, still nothing said. She’s faster than I am, or likes to think she is, so I let her have her head. We meet up again at the bottom of the lift.
    Standing in the queue we don’t speak to eachother and she doesn’t look in my direction, but that doesn’t disconcert me. Steff lives in her world, well now she knows I live in mine too, and it’s not some knacker’s yard for Foreign Office low-flyers. She’s in front of me so she grabs the T-bar first. We