Frowning, Bishop followed Nash’s gaze then turned back. “Good days and bad, as you’d expect. She’s one hell of a tough woman, that’s for sure. She’s got a lot of support. Eva’s over there every day.”
“You two still not back at MI6? It’s been nearly a year.”
The two spies, like the rest of their group, had been cleared thanks to Pinchot’s evidence. The result had been explosive. Every major spy agency on the planet had been ripped apart by Pinchot’s files. The public shitstorm had destroyed credibility in the once-revered organisations. In recent months the dust had begun to settle, but it would be a long time before the public’s trust was restored.
Bishop gave a weary exhalation. “Even after we gave evidence we’re not exactly the most popular folks in the halls of MI6 right now. Half hate our innards for bringing them into disrepute, the other half suspect we had something to do with it. So, no, we’re not exactly rushing to get back. One day potentially, just not yet.”
“Understandable.” Nash took a sip of his beer.
“Plus, it won’t be the same place we left, not without Paul.” Bishop’s eyes wandered to no particular point. “He was my manager for so long, and the only one Eva ever had. He was our mentor, but more importantly, he was our friend. The place won’t be our MI6 without him, you know? Without Paul…” He shrugged.
Nash knew exactly what he meant. “What will you do until you decide?”
“Eva’s got an old aunt who caught her on the media coverage and reached out. I think she mentioned her when we were in Melbourne. Nina used to be a scream queen in Hollywood back in the seventies, then a private detective. She’s got some stories. We’re going to hang out in LA with the movie stars and palm trees for a bit.”
“Sounds terrible.” Nash placed a hand on Bishop’s shoulder. “You two deserve a break.”
Bishop placed his hand over Nash’s by way of thanks. The two had forged a tight friendship in recent months. Nash had come to relish their time together.
“Harry not joining us?” Bishop asked.
“Not today, she’s up to her neck in the latest contract. She sends her regards.”
When the full story of the small group’s success became widely known, Harry had rightfully received praise for her tireless work. Job offers were showered on her by every agency with an acronym. While she said she’d never be a “suit”, she was happy to accept ridiculous amounts cash for freelance work. Harry was even talking about retiring in a few short years.
Hawk leaned over. “I’m seeing Harry this weekend, I’ll tell her you said hi, Bishop.”
Nash and Bishop exchanged amused looks. Bishop in particular seemed to be sucking a particularly tasty boiled sweet.
“Will you now?” He leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee. “Since when are you hanging out with Harry in London?”
Giving a blasé shrug, Hawk replied, “There’s a new exhibition at the Tate we’re both interested in.”
Neither man believed him for a second, but they left it unchallenged. To save his friend further grilling, Nash changed the subject.
“Even after all these months I still find it funny Tartarus were taken down by the band who released ‘Teenage Dirtbag’. I can’t say I ever saw that coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Eva asked, returning to the table with a tray of shots.
Nash eyed the tray suspiciously. “Why are we doing shots, Eva?”
Before she could answer, the door opened and Sophia and Sabine walked in. Nash handed little Mason back to his mother, and another wave of hugs and kisses engulfed the table. The longest and most intimate kiss was reserved for Nash and Sophia.
“Ugh, get a room.” Eva lips danced with amusement.
“I agree,” Sabine said, disgusted as only an eleven-year-old could be.
Sophia and Sabine had been driving around looking at potential schools for Sabine. At the moment it was to be a trial six months to see how she’d settle into an English school.
The relationship between Nash and Sabine was growing. He’d be lying if he said he’d done everything right from the start, but this parenting thing was new to him. He was trying. Thankfully, Sabine was too. She was a bright and genuinely funny young woman who’d thankfully inherited her mother’s cynical French sense of humour. The two had bonded over photography, Marx Brothers movies and a mutual love of tacos.
Sophia, on the other hand, required no effort whatsoever. The two had fallen in love all over again. They weren’t the same people they’d been when they’d loved one another the first time, but their differences and experiences since then had somehow made them even more compatible. For a man so used to being a loner, Nash felt incomplete whenever Sophia wasn’t with him. It had been her suggestion to trial Sabine’s schooling in the UK. If it worked out, who knew what else would be possible?
“Hey, lady Sabine, how’s the leg?” Eva asked.
Sabine had injured her knee falling from a tree stump while photographing the local countryside the week before. She and Eva had quickly bonded, the young woman fangirling whenever Eva was around.
“Good, thanks, Eva,” she replied eagerly. “But, uh, why lady?”
Eva’s head swivelled to Nash. “You haven’t told her!”
“Told me what?”
“We were holding off on that,” Nash replied.
“Holding off on what?”
Eva thumbed towards Nash. “Your dad’s a lord, a proper one. That means you’ll be a lady one day.”
“What!” Sabine bounced in her seat. “Are you for real?”
“Thanks, Eva.”
“Welcome.”
While everyone sat around the long table exchanging stories and good humour, Nash stood back and savoured the moment. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he was truly content, truly happy.
Noticing his taciturn disposition, Sophia placed her hand on his sleeve. “Everything alright?”
