Sanjana checked the departure board to identify the location of her first-class carriage, then hurried along the platform. Although her focus was on the train, her movement was noticed. Two broad-shouldered men dressed inconspicuously fell into step some distance behind her, their eyes fixed on her retreating figure.
Once she was seated, Sanjana took a well-thumbed book out of her bag and switched her phone to silent. As the train began to move, she cast a casual glance out of the window; her expression was calm. Yet an underlying tension underpinned her composure — an instinct honed by years of intelligence work. The book slipped from her fingers as she fell into a light sleep. She began to recall the meeting with Charles shortly after Angus’s murder.
July 2013 - Flashback
The Thames was high that morning, and the air was thick with drizzle and diesel fumes. From the Embankment, the street lamps looked like tired sentries keeping half-hearted watch over London. Sanjana stood beneath my umbrella, her collar turned up, waiting.
Charles was already there, wearing the same coat and displaying the same expression of amused irritation. He was leaning on the rail as if the river might offer him an answer.
“You’ve gone native again,” he said without turning. “Standing in the rain, pretending to enjoy it. Only the British could turn misery into a ritual.”
‘And only you could find a way to sulk beside it,’ she replied. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
‘Curiosity,’ said Charles. ‘And a perverse sense of loyalty. You said it was important.’
Sanjana joined him at the railing. They watched the current drag a half-submerged cone downstream for a while.
‘You’ve been avoiding us,’ Sanjana said quietly.
‘You mean the Service, or you?’
‘Both.’ Angus’s death changed things, Charles. You know that.’
He nodded, his eyes on the river. ‘He was a good officer. Loyal. He deserved better than a footnote and a press release.”
“He also trusted you,” said Sanjana. “And I don’t think he’d have wanted you to disappear like this.”
Charles gave a humourless laugh. “Vanished? Hardly. I’m just invisible enough not to be briefed against by that preening minister you seem to tolerate so well.’
‘Friggington?’ Sanjana asked, her tone cooling. ‘He’s a problem. But not an untouchable one.’
‘You’d be surprised. He’s inherited his father’s talent for weathering scandal. The difference is that the old man had a conscience.”
The remark hung between them, echoing Berlin and the night a dossier had been placed on a desk with a revolver beside it. Sanjana didn’t press the point. She’d read the file; she knew the weight it carried.
‘You should come back.’
‘To what? The same bureaucracy that hung me out to dry?’
“To finish what you started.” You were right about Friggington. He knows it, even if he can’t say it aloud.’
Charles turned to face her. “And you think a knighthood will make things easier?”
‘No,’ she replied. “But it might make it harder for them to bury you again.”
He smiled faintly. “You always did argue like a civil servant with a conscience. A rare breed.’
‘You taught me that,’ she replied. ‘And you still care, or you wouldn’t have come.’
Charles sighed and wiped the mist from his glasses. ‘Suppose I did agree. It would have to be on my terms.’
‘Naturally.’
‘No committees. No leaks. And Laura must stay involved. If I’m coming back, it’s because she and I have unfinished business, professionally speaking.”
Sanjana raised an eyebrow. ‘Professionally speaking?’
‘Don’t start,’ he said, smiling despite himself. “You’ll ruin the moment.”
A gust of wind caught her umbrella and he steadied it, their hands brushing in the process. For a moment, the old camaraderie resurfaced, unspoken but understood.
‘You’ll need clearance,’ she said.
‘I’ll need insurance.’
Sanjana nodded. “Then let me do the talking. I’ll speak to C; leave the rest to me.’
Charles looked back at the river, where the cone had disappeared with the tide. “That’s what worries me,” he murmured.
End of flashback.
Sanjana awoke from her light sleep. She glanced out as the sun broke through the clouds. A slight smile appeared on her face as she wiped a tear from her eye.
‘Thankfully, the issue has been resolved, hopefully.’
Her thoughts were interrupted by a strong hand gripping her shoulder.
🧭 Cross-References
Drawing the Lines — Towards the Retreat to Valtellina
Narrative Posts in this Section
Lunch – A Whisky and Reflections Sanjana leaves for Scotland; whisky and introspection. Flashback to her history with Charles and Friggington’s harassment. 17 November 2025
Night of 3 March 2014 — Two Rooms, One Resolve Parallel meetings: Sanjana’s summit in Perthshire and Charles’s Den in London. Rossella introduced.“Two Rooms” structure; Friggington and Ann Fretwell named as dual threats. 24 November 2025
The Road South Sanjana after the Perth meeting. Arti and Gillian monitor remotely. Adds action, shows Cambridge team’s efficiency. 1 December 2025
Friggington on the War Path 8 December 2025
By the River — July 2013 (Flashback) Sanjana–Charles flashback on the Thames after Angus’s death.Reinforces loyalty and moral contract. 15 December 2025
A Day Return to Cambridge Charles visits Laura; tension, flirtation, and Rizzo connection. Ends with Laura’s dispatch to Paris. Narrative bridge; deepens Cambridge bond. 22 December 2025
The Line to London Sanjana’s journey to London 29 December 2025
Laura in Paris and Return to London 5 January 2026
Charles, Gaia and Laura Interogate 12 January 2026
Previous Narrative Posts related to this section
Private Letter to Jamie Gordon Date: 28 February 2014 Location: Islington, London — Sanjana Jaitley’s Study 15 October 2025
The Map to Nowhere One man dead in a Mayfair hotel. A champagne glass swapped. A dossier erased. Charles Keane is back, but off the books—and the only clue is buried in a smile last seen in 1989. 17 May 2025
Lines in the Water Southend-on-Sea, 14 November 1989 12 May 2025 This dossier provides a background to the relationship between Charles Keane and Lord William Hancock, PC (Labour) — Born 1928 Stepney, son of a dockworker and a seamstress. Labour peer and civil-service reformer who chaired the Inter-Party Parliamentary Committee on Intelligence Oversight (1983–89). Mentor to Charles Keane; his insistence on “truth over tribe” shaped the younger man’s entire career. 12 May 2025
The Sleeper’s Web Begins 9 November 1989 – Berlin, West Germany. Bornholmer Straße Border Crossing 1 May 2025
Dossiers
📖 Butler Britain – Laundromats, Livery Companies, and the Oligarch Welcome Committee Editor’s Note” this isn’t about conspiracy, but complicity.
Triple Edge Diaries
Gillian Gordon – Private Diary 6 November 2025
The Wrong Questions Were Never Asked. In the silence after Matlock, Charles confronts the consequences of what wasn’t asked — and who was already watching. 20 June 2025
Observations, intercepted messages, field sketches, and whispers from the ground.
Charles Keane – Private Notes (Handwritten Fragment) (London Safehouse -Den, 23:47 BST) 26 February 2014 13 November 2025
Viktor Pavlov – Private Notes (Geneva, night flight back to Moscow – undated) 10 November 2025