The next morning was as domestic as it could be, both of us showering then dressing before eating breakfast together. I grabbed my coat and briefcase, heading outside where we parted ways with a kiss. She would head home, as in addition to her role as my handler, her cover was as a freelance web designer, working from home. I had to catch the Underground to Canary Wharf, joining the thousands of others who travelled there and back each morning and evening.

Grabbing a coffee and snack at Costa Coffee, I entered the building I 'worked', passed through security, heading up in the elevator to my assigned office. It was...