A Spy By Nature by Charles Cumming Read Free Book Online

searching for someone who is genetically manipulative, then you’ve got the wrong man. Deceit does not come easily to me. But if you are looking for somebody who would be prepared to lie when and if the circumstances demanded it, then that would be something I would be capable of doing.”
    Liddiard allows an unquiet silence to linger in the room. And then he suddenly smiles, warmly, so that his teeth catch a splash of light. I have said the right thing.
    “Good,” he says, nodding. “Good. And what about being unable to tell your friends about what you do? Have you had any concerns about that? We obviously prefer it that you keep the number of people who know about your activities to an absolute minimum. Some candidates have a problem with that.”
    “Not me. Mr. Lucas told me in my previous interview that officers are allowed to tell their parents.”
    “Yes.”
    “But as far as friends are concerned…”
    “Of course not.”
    “That’s what I’d come to understand.”
    Both of us nod simultaneously. Suddenly, however, for no better reason than that I want to appear solid and reliable, I do something quite unexpected. It is unplanned and dumb. A needless lie to Liddiard that could prove costly.
    “It’s just that I have a girlfriend.”
    “I see. And have you told her about us?”
    “No. She knows that I’m here today, but she thinks I’m applying for the Diplomatic Service.”
    “Is this a serious relationship?”
    “Yes. We’ve been together for almost five years. It’s very probable that we’ll get married. So she should know about this, to see if she’s comfortable with it.”
    Liddiard touches his tie again.
    “Of course,” he says. “What is the girl’s name?”
    “Kate. Kate Allardyce.”
    Liddiard writes down Kate’s name in his notes. Why am I doing this? They won’t care that I am about to get married. They won’t think any more of me for being able to sustain a long-term relationship. If anything, they would prefer me to be alone.
    He asks when she was born.
    “December twenty-eighth, 1971.”
    “Where?”
    “Argentina.”
    A tiny crease saunters across his forehead.
    “And what is her current address?”
    I had no idea that he would ask so much about her. I give the address where we used to live together.
    “Will you want to interview her? Is that why you want all this information?”
    “No, no,” he says quickly. “It’s purely for vetting purposes. There shouldn’t be a problem. But I must ask you to refrain from discussing your candidature with her until after the Sisby examinations.”
    “Of course.”
    Then, as a savored afterthought, he adds, “Sometimes wives can make a substantial contribution to the work of an SIS officer.”

DAY ONE/MORNING

    It’s 6:00 A.M. on Wednesday, August 9. There are two and a half hours until Sisby.
    I have laid out a gray flannel suit on my bed and checked it for stains. Inside the jacket there’s a powder-blue shirt at which I throw ties, hoping for a match. Yellow with faint white dots. Pistachio green shot through with blue. A busy paisley, a sober navy one-tone. Christ, I have awful ties. Outside, the weather is overcast and bloodless. A good day to be indoors.
    After a bath and a stinging shave I settle down in the sitting room with a cup of coffee and some back issues of The Economist, absorbing its opinions, making them mine. According to the Sisby literature given to me by Liddiard at the end of our interview in July, “all SIS candidates will be expected to demonstrate an interest in current affairs and a level of expertise in at least three or four specialist subjects.” That’s all I can prepare for.
    I am halfway through a profile of Gerry Adams when the faint moans of my neighbors’ early-morning lovemaking start to seep through the floor. In time there is a faint groan, what sounds like a cough, then the thud of wood on wall. I have never been able to decide whether she is faking it. Saul was over here once when