Robin's Way 15

Irina looked sad, and not a little embarrassed.

"Look at these, they came from one of our agents who is following a woman called Rostov, Anya Rostov."

She handed me an envelope with some photographs. They were clearly from a club. That was the only clear thing, as the room was dark and poorly lit. But what they showed was Jane, kissing another woman. The other woman was small and elfin-like. The sequence showed them getting very close. My stomach ached. So did my heart.

"These were taken a month or so ago in a lesbian bar in Soho. That is your Bishop, isn't it?"

With an effort, I pulled myself together and said it was.

"Rostov is a Russian agent, a honey trap if you like. She and your Bishop are having an affair."

Shock brings numbness. Numbness is necessary at times like that, although, of course, one aches all the more afterwards. I felt unutterably desolate.

"Do you think the Bishop knows?"

"We can't be sure. But she is in deep with Rostov. We have proof you may not want to see."

Who to trust?

Was Irina playing me? I had to trust someone, and from Surtees onwards, Irina had come through.

"Show me."

She showed me four more.

I had seen Jane in her dog collar, but not the collar of a real dog. There she was on all fours with a studded collar around her neck being pulled by the smaller woman. There was one of her being taken from behind; one of her being sat on; and one of her bringing the other woman to orgasm. I shook.

I felt Irina's hand on mine.

"Robin, I am SO sorry."

"How did you get these"

"We have an undercover woman who works there, she keeps an eye on anything to do with the Russians, she came across this a month or so back. The club has cctv, and she got these images from there. I am sorry, Robin."

I wanted to say, "it's okay." I wanted to say, "it's fine." I wanted to, but I could not lie. I was not okay, nor was I fine. I had looked to Jane as an example, as a mentor, and wanted to be her lover; now this.

Irina just held my hand. It was all she could do. The sense of loss was overwhelming.

"One good bit of news, perhaps, Robin."

"I could do with one, what is it?"

"As our agent in London is getting some good information and I am her handler, they have said I can stay once suitable cover is found for me."

An idea came into my head.

"Would being my assistant in London work as cover?"

Irina's face lit up.

"Yes, yes it would. Can you arrange that?"

"I can. It will be an actual job though, working with the women."

"Even better," she said, "that would suit me, and my service."

"Well then," I grinned, "consider yourself hired."

I breathed a sigh of relief. She squeezed my hand.

"You know if you ever want to do what we did before, I am here for you."

"I do," I said, "and thank you."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course."

"How did those pictures make you feel?"

"I was upset."

"That was not what I meant, Robin."

"What did you mean?"

"Did you identify more with Anya or Jane?"

I felt myself blushing.

"That," I said, parrying, "is for another occasion. Now, let's get on with lunch. We have a lot do in the next fortnight. I am down in London to see my new Bishop, and I need a cv from you."

Irina grinned.

"Here's to working together!"