London           

February 5th-6th 2004

For a week or two, I had noticed something not quite right with it. Just occasionally I felt a slight loss of power and then it would pick up and seem fine. I'm a real ostrich over such things- bury my head in the sand, you know? I should have had it checked- especially as I was carrying a child in the back most of the time - but I am simply too casual about these things. Maximus would be furious if he knew that I had ignored the warning signs.

The car rolled to a halt. It was completely dead. Sense told me it must be the electrics to create such a sudden and complete loss of power. "Bloody hell! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I thought to myself. Here I was on the M4, stuck on the Hammersmith flyover with a hungry two-year old in the back and I had left the AA number in my other handbag. "Fuck, fuck fuck!"

I grabbed for my bag, shoved a biscuit at Lily and scrabbled for my phone. Flicking through the numbers, I searched for my mechanic and waited to be connected; he could arrange a tow.

"Hi, Terry? It's Mrs. North. You know the Honda CR-V? I'm stuck on the Flyover - no power- can you come and sort me out?"

"I beg your pardon?" The voice that answered was not my mechanic, Terry Reilly, a chirpy Belfast lad. This voice was deep and softly spoken, with a trace of an Australian accent. "I think you've got the wrong number, love..."

"Terry? Oh God, I realize what I've done! It's Terry Thorne, isn't it? It's me, Uma North. You know, Maximus's wife...we met at Jack's wedding last month... I pressed the wrong Terry on my speed dial. I'm so sorry- you have the same first name as my mechanic..."

He chuckled. "Done it myself...but at least you didn't make a date with the wrong women, hey, love? Wait up....what can I do to help...Max out of town?"

"Help? Are you in London?"

"Yeah, at the office."

"Max is in Berlin."

"Eastern front playing up again? Trouble with the barbarians?" He said it seriously but I could imagine his smirk.

"Funny, ha ha... he's actually there working on the security for the Economic Summit. These friendly get-togethers are actually very unfriendly...Lefties are always planning some serious shit...

"OK...so you have a car breakdown and you're stuck on the flyover...Hammersmith?"

"Er...yes...but don't worry...I'll call my garage..."

"It's already taken care of...I'll get a company on it...Name and reg. of car?" I found myself accepting his help and giving him my details. He just seemed to take over and make everything so simple. "OK...sorted that on the other phone...now how are you fixed? Stay in the car and I'll be there as quick as I can. I'm already on my way..."

I couldn't argue with him. A tow truck arrived twenty minutes later and Terry pulled up a moment after in a silver Jaguar. In minutes, my car was hitched up, Lily and I were in the back of his vehicle and he was leaning in to pass me my baby bag and then stow her stroller in the boot.

I watched him as he gave some instructions to the men, pulled a few notes from his wallet and tipped them. I noticed his affability with these working men. Terry Thorne may be the epitome of the urbane man and yet he was chatting away like he was one of the lads to these blokes. He has that rapport; most working men would be a bit suspicious of a City 'suit' in a flash car but you know on sight that Terry Thorne is not that kind of deal at all.

Terry was wearing a very well-cut black suit with a crisp white button-down collared shirt. His tie was a rather unusual modern art kind of effect and a bit of a surprise. He struck me as the regimental tie sort of bloke (and indeed had worn such in his film). I hadn't expected a splash of colour- but maybe he had changed - or was this the influence of someone else? I thought of Maximus who was now worse than ever about clothes. He liked to present the right image but expected me to simply go and buy him what he needed. He didn't have an opinion. Why should he? In the army he had worn what he was expected to and at home his wife had arranged his clothing. Couldn't imagine Terry Thorne being that passive somehow.

I liked the sharp look he had. He was always so ...sharp...every thing just right, cleanly shaven so close that you had to wonder if he used a diamond blade knowing how thick a Crowe beard is, hair short and well trimmed but not without a hint of unruly that suggested either a bit of vanity or a careless bravado. He smelt clean and fresh-I couldn't place his aftershave because it was so subtle but it put my senses on high alert and gave me a passing fancy to smell the fold of his neck just above his collar. I was responding so viscerally to him that it fascinated me.

"OK, girls, have you back home in no time...hold onto your hats...you alright back there? I'll take it easy. I don't like little ones in cars without restraints..."

I was surprised at his comment. "Really? Wouldn't have imagined you gave that one much thought..."

"Me? Well, as odd as it might sound...I am actually a Dad myself and a long time ago, I had a little fella who wouldn't sit still in a car. Used to scare me to bloody death, he did." Terry grinned at the memory.

"I'm sorry. I forgot about your son. I'm sorry if I sounded like a typical woman- making out that men have no ability as carers..."

He laughed. "Hey, love, that was a long time ago. Been a while since I've changed a nappy or had to tiptoe round a sleeping child. You're not far wrong..."

We chatted all the way home. I asked him about his work, he told me a little of the current case in which he was involved. I told him something of my career background; he was politely interested but I didn't imagine it lit his fire. As we neared my home, I busied myself giving him instructions to our place. We were soon home. At the door, he helped me in with all the equipment; I offered him a cup of tea.  He checked his watch and grimaced. "Love to, but I'm already late..."

"I'm so sorry. I must have buggered up your schedule..."

Terry grinned. "Policy meeting with a group of tight-arsed bankers or rescuing two lovely young ladies in distress? No contest. Ladies win every time in my book, However - it is back to the grindstone now. I've got cocktails at Whitehall at five thirty. Believe me, I would prefer a cuppa any day. Hey, princess...where's my kiss?" He tickled Lily under her chin and she hid her face shyly against my shoulder. "Awww...come on...none of that, I heard you loved kissing boys?"

Lily gave him her temptress look. She has perfected it already. Terry laughed. "Are you girls born with the facility to torment men or is it dispatched with mother's milk?"

"You a man...not a boy," she reasoned.

"All the better then, Lil. Start at the top!" I teased. He held his arms out and she surprisingly lunged at him, snuggling up to his chest and planting a wet kiss on his lips. "You are funny!" she announced and pulled his nose.

"I was trying for animal magnetism, love, but I'll accept any success I can manage," he replied, blowing a raspberry behind her ear and making her scream with delight. I took her back from him and she returned to me reluctantly as he made his way down the drive. We both waved him off and he grinned, hit the horn and pulled out of the drive. It was only then that I realized I had never actually thanked him for his kindness.

Maximus called that evening and I told him about Terry and the car. He was very grateful and said he would contact Terry and thank him for stepping in. I said I thought I should get him a little something. What did he drink? Max chuffed and said "Everything," rather cryptically but I ignored him and suggested a fine Malt. Maximus said it sounded like a good idea. The next day, I deposited Lily with a neighbour and her kids and took the tube into central London to his office bearing my gift and a thank you card. I had dithered all morning about what to wear. I mean this was just a casual drop in "Thanks a lot, Terry, appreciate it", sort of thing. You have to be careful how you dress. Why? I wasn't quite sure.

I chose a rather street fashion look. Khaki low slung jeans, black tight short jumper and a brown suede fitted jacket. I wore ankle boots and my hair loose. It made me look younger and was a slightly raunchier look than Maximus liked. He wasn't a great fan of women in tight pants- well, not when other men might be watching anyway. I slung a large leather bag over my shoulder and thought I looked rather nonchalant and sassy. I'm not sure why that mattered somehow.

TOL have their offices in one of the new developments in Docklands. It is one of those places that are intimidatingly high tech- even the lifts talk to you as if you are a blithering idiot. "This is not your floor, please do not exit..." I finally reached the level I was allowed to walk out on and faced the stark aluminium and pale wood portals with their discreet legend 'TOL Risk International'. I pushed open the door and immediately realized my look was out of place. This was the heart of the City and I looked like an extra from MTV.

"Good morning, can I help you?" An efficient and business-like receptionist addressed me.

"Er...yes....er...can I speak to Terry Thorne?"

"Have you an appointment?"

"Um...well, no..."

"Then I don't think he will be available. Perhaps you would like to make one?"

"Well...it's just that....you see...I'm his...well, his sister-in-law. I'm married to his brother and I just wondered if I could have a quick word while I was passing..."

She looked at me cautiously as though women were falsely claiming kinship with Terry every day of the week. Perhaps they were- who knows? "Just a moment, please...." She turned her back and picked up a phone, murmuring into it. I looked around feeling jumpy and stupid. I had sounded like a complete fool, stuttering and falling over my words as though I was making it up when actually it was true. Well, in a manner of speaking, it was true...

"Take a seat. Mr. Thorne is on conference call but will be with you as soon as possible..."

Summarily dealt with, like a naughty school kid at the headmaster's office, I did as I was told. Minutes later the door to the inner office swung back and Terry burst through with his forthright but smooth stride. "Uma? Your car playing up again?"

He was grinning; he looked pleased to see me. "No, took the tube, actually. Sorry to disturb you at work again..."

He kissed my cheek. "No worries. You have no idea how much I like being disturbed. Come through. Susie...couple of coffees, hey? Where's my girlfriend? Does she know you're seeing me behind her back?"

"Who? Lil? She'd bust a gut if she knew..." We were walking down a pristine corridor towards the office at the end whose door was wide open. "...You are the flavour of the month. It's Uncle Terry this and Uncle Terry that..."

He laughed. "My best age group. Two. They're always much more forgiving of me at that age..."

He beckoned to me to sit down on a leather chair that looked like it had designer range stamped all over it. The office was spartan but chic minimal cool. I thought of my old office at the Museum and its filing cabinets overflowing and every surface cluttered. You can accuse me of many things but anal tidiness is not one of them. Terry Thorne however appeared to be the exact opposite. There wasn't even a piece of paper out of place.

"So what can I do for you?" he perched on the desk and rested his hands on his knees. I noticed his tie hanging forward and the way he smoothed it down and deftly flicked it into his belt. I'm not sure why the action caught my attention.

"Actually it's the other way round. I came to thank you...I realised after you drove off the other day that I had never said thank you. Which was unforgivable of me. I'm sorry that I was so rude but I just don't know what got into me. I guess I was flustered or something..."

"Hey- you offered me a cuppa. That was all I was after! And Maximus mailed me- he was very appreciative. Uma, I'm family. He'd do the same for my wife. You know he would." He smiled broadly, a friendly polite smile. I felt a little disappointed. I realised that this was his public face. Mr. Nice Guy who comes in and helps people.

"Nevertheless...you deserve a thank you from me. And I wanted to give you this..." Out of my roomy bag, I extracted the bottle of malt and the thank you note. He looked surprised.

"That isn't necessary- but I'll enjoy it anyway. Hey- crack it now?"

I looked at my watch. "It's barely midday. I don't think I can handle Scotch this early. Keep it for later. I hope you enjoy it...Oh, there's something else. I thought you might like this..." I pulled out the sheet of A4 and handed it to him. He unfolded it and giggled.

"...One of Lily's wax crayon masterpieces. In case you can't quite see it straight away...the big blue thing is my car...the big black thing is yours and those poor unfortunate aliens are me and her. That giant is you. I'm sorry you are in yellow but it is her favourite colour at the moment and I don't know why she gave you green hair..." We both laughed at the drawing.

"This needs a professional opinion- I reckon it would get a room of its own at the Tate. And it makes perfect sense- yellow and green? Mate, I'm an Aussie, national colours- the kid's a genius."

"Wow! Wait until I tell Max. He thought she was merely a prodigy..."

Terry shook his head and walked over to a pin board behind his desk. There were a few snaps, mostly of Ann, and postcards amongst the memos. He pinned it up right in the centre. "Work of Art. This place needs some colour. If you don't fancy a Scotch - how's about a pie and a pint? I need an early lunch and there's a decent pub across the road from here. We can discuss Minimalism and Primitive Art..."

I was about to thank him and say I couldn't when I heard myself say "Yeah...why not? A girl's gotta eat..." and a moment later he was leading me back towards reception. Susie was on the phone as we walked through.

"I'll be at lunch if you need me..."

"Terry? Just take this. Your wife on line one..."

He excused himself and picked up the phone. I saw how his face relaxed, softened, became himself and not the consummate image of a competent and gentlemanly professional. I wished he looked at me like that. He didn't say much, listening and nodding and then I saw his face cloud over, a flash of anger before he steadied himself. His answer was measured but I detected disappointment swallowed down. "You know best. Yeah, I understand...can't be helped. I'll call you later. Yeah...yeah... And you...always..." He handed the phone back to Susie, blew air out slowly and then turned back to me, the veneer of pleasant charm restored.

"OK...let's go..."

On the way down the elevator he seemed quiet and disinclined to talk. I stared at the opposite wall but could see his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were giving him away. Just like Maximus' eyes. Something there indescribably tender and emotional. It touched a part of me that I knew it shouldn't have.

"Is Ann all right?" I asked. He looked at me sharply.

"All right?"

"You seemed a little upset after the call."

"She's fine. Just a work problem. Nothing. Really."

"You didn't mention me."

"You? Why should I?" I felt deflated. There was no real reason except- then why hadn't he? If he was simply having a sandwich with his sister-in -law?

"Why should I tell Ann I am taking you out for lunch? You and Annie are not exactly bosom pals, are ya?" Terry gave me a pointed look.

I shrugged. "No, guess we didn't really hit it off, did we?" The lift doors opened and he held his hand to see me out. We made our way to the front exit and then out onto the street. The pub was across the road and the traffic was heavy; Terry took my right hand in his and led me safely to the other side- he didn't appear to have noticed what he was doing. His hand felt good.

At the bar, he ordered a pint of Guinness and turned to me. "Half will do me." He gave the order.

"Food?"

"Just a tuna salad."

He gave the choices and we found a bay near the window with our drinks. "So why is that? Why do you two not like each other?" Terry asked, sipping his drink with a knowing look. The thick foam left a smudge on his upper lip, he licked if off unselfconsciously. I blushed for some reason.

"Dunno. Just the way it is. She's not my type."

He grinned. "Didn't ask you to go to bed with her. Why do women take an instant dislike to each other? Based on absolutely fuck all?"

I chuffed. "Come on...blokes do the same with each other. You meet a guy who you judge to be a tosser and that is it."

"Then there's a reason. He's a tosser. What did Ann ever do to you?"

"She started it."

"Yeah? How?"

I glared at him and saw his face; he was grinning.  "Don't be such a bastard, Terry. You know why as well as I do. Men. Only reason women ever fall out."

"Men? Meaning?"

"She came onto Maximus, if you must know..."

"Careful, love, or I might tell you what she told me..." his eyes glinted but he didn't pursue the topic. I reddened an even deeper colour of scarlet. Lunch thankfully arrived and we started eating.

He finished and waited whilst I did and then asked if I minded if he smoked. I replied no if he gave me one.

"You smoke?" He sounded surprised.

"Only when I can bum one off someone and then brush my teeth before Max comes home..." I took the proffered cigarette and leaned in while he lit it.

"He doesn't let you smoke?"

"It's not like that. He doesn't like it, so I don't."

"Maybe he should learn to let you have some control. Does he ever go without anything he wants?"

"Plenty of things."

"Like?" I stared Terry out.

"Like he doesn't go round sticking short swords into people who piss him off. Although he meets plenty he thinks deserve dispatching in that way."

Terry laughed. "Know the feeling. Had to restrain myself a few times before now." He flicked ash into the ashtray and played with his pint.

"Marriage. It's...not always easy. But...it's worth it, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah...but hard work at times."

"You work away a lot, don't you? You must get lonely," I observed.

"So does Maximus. How do you cope?" He seemed genuinely interested in my response.

"I have Lily and...well, at least I'm always there when he gets back. Forgive me if I'm being nosey but...is that what upset you before? The fact that Ann has as many work commitments as you?"

Terry leaned back in his chair and bit his bottom lip. I was beginning to recognise how many nervous habits he had to hide his apparent sterling control of a situation. He wasn't quite as together as he appeared. "Yeah...her job. She had a few days' leave and was coming over to London for a break with me while I was stuck here. She just pulled out- about to leave for the airport and a story came over the wire. Can't miss this one. This might be the one. Always the fucking same..." he drew heavily on the end of the cigarette and stubbed it out rather viciously. "Compromise...not a word she's familiar with..."

I winced. That was unfair. "How much have you cut back for her? Come on, Terry...it doesn't always have to be the woman..."

"Was in your case. Talented academic with glittering career. Gives it all up for love. Kind of has a resonance there, ya know?"

I drained the last of my drink and held out the glass for a refill. "Don't believe everything you read in the story books, Terry. As a friend of mine once said: 'There's a downside to everything. Even heaven. You have to be dead first'...and I paraphrase..."

He called over two more drinks and offered me another cigarette. "Want to talk about it?"

I took it and lit my own this time. "Not particularly. Wouldn't like to shatter your fantasies..."

He raised his eyebrows and lit up himself. "Something up between you and the general?" 

"You know better than to ask that. And actually no, there isn't. Not in the way you mean. Anymore than there is anything wrong between you and Ann. Just life, you know? Pressures. Men and women. Different points of view."

"What does he want that you don't?" I blew out smoke and stared into space; he was watching me and I saw the flicker of something in his eyes. He adjusted his position in the chair. I wondered if he was thinking of me sexually.

"You first," I threw back, expecting him to deftly side step that one.

"I want her to stay closer to home so that we can have a real life together when I'm there. She can do that. I can't."

I swallowed hard. I had to be as honest. Why? I owed him nothing. I just wanted to be. "He wants a son."

There was a slight hint in his demeanour that suggested I had not said anything he didn't expect. "You don't want another child?"

I put out the cigarette. "I didn't say a child. I said a son. A baby with a dick is somehow rather more significant to a man. And as I can't guarantee that, we could be talking a whole lot of babies before we get little Maximus junior..."

"What about your career. Is that in the equation?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't actually got a career anymore. I'm a domestic goddess, didn't your wife tell you?"

Terry gave me a look. "You've got to tell him straight, love. Yes or no. The guy loves you."

"And I love the guy. Still doesn't make it any easier to talk on the same wavelength, you know?"

He smiled sadly. "Tell me about it."

"I just did- and it's more than I have ever told another living soul. I have absolutely no idea why I am sitting here spilling all this to you. Please keep this confidence ...don't even tell her...I mean especially not her..."

Another wry grin. "My lips are sealed. It's what I'm known for. But Uma ...maybe you need to talk to someone. Girlfriend, sister, whatever? Not good to sit on all this and bottle it up, ya know?"

I snorted. "Take your own advice. Can just see you curling up with Dino O' Leary and a box of choccies and having a good old session...Terry, I can't talk to anyone. No one can understand. They would just think Max was a wanker. And he isn't. I won't have anyone think ill of him."

"Then there isn't much wrong between you at the heart of things. He doesn't say much about you, Uma, but any fool can see how he feels. You've turned his life around, given him a beautiful child, taught him how to love again...but anytime you need a shoulder? I'm here and I'm listening. Plus my dry cleaning bill is tax deductible..."

We both laughed. "Works both ways, Terry Thorne. I always have a large handkerchief in my bag for spillages."

"Mary Poppins had a bag like that- works of art, hankies and bottles of malt. What more can a man ask for?" He had an answer for everything and seemed to get every part of me. It was uncanny how comfortable I felt with him.

He had to leave shortly afterwards for a meeting. He walked me to the nearby tube station. "Hey...keep in touch..."

"I will. And Terry...she loves you...she's just scared...I know the feeling. Men like you and Max...you're more than we dared hope for...takes a bit of getting used to."

He looked down almost bashfully. "Max and I? You put me in that category? Not sure I can cope with that. You're quite different from what I expected, Uma. Nothing at all like I imagined. I'll bet you tie old Maxie up in knots and I'll bet he loves it." I wasn't sure what he meant but he was gone before I could ask him for clarification. And then it occurred to me. I had forgotten to thank him for lunch.