Part Nine

 

 

Brook Preston sat at the table in the café nursing a cappuccino and lost in thought. The past day or two he had kept close to home, watching his wife and lover coming and going, hanging about the hospital grounds, even making a quiet visit to his mother-in-law with a large bouquet of flowers when there was no one else around. Annie had been polite to him but distracted. He doubted whether his concerns featured very largely in her self-absorbed world. They did not discuss the state of his marriage nor did he ask her about hers; they kept the conversation to safe topics and cursory inquiries.

He had been relieved when another man came in, some English guy with one of those pompous manners that the upper classes here manage to do so well. It gave him a chance to take his leave, duty done. Strolling out through the grounds, he had thrust his hands deep in his pockets and surveyed his options now. Costello's reappearance changed things. There was something about the guy that chilled him to the bone. Before, he had just disliked his arrogant, mocking disdain but the interview two days ago had changed things. He had seen another side to him and it had come as a shock. The veneer of the cool, hip hedonist had disappeared and the viper beneath had attacked. Who was this guy?

Stirring his coffee cup now, he thought about the little he knew about the Thorne family. Zoe had never been very forthcoming with details about her father's background other than it was military, special forces, top secret and highly colourful. He doubted she knew much about him anyway. Men of that ilk were guarded even with their closest relatives. Costello was somehow linked to his former life. That suggested he was another secret service agent. Something about his warning had not had the ring of an idle threat:

 

 

Preston knew he meant that. Zoe had also made an allusion to knowing someone who 'would take you out without even breaking sweat...' Costello? Got to be. What was the story on him? He needed to find out what he could, just as Costello had told him to - but not for that reason. The more you know about your enemy, the more easy it is to bring him down.  As Sun Tzu said 'If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles...' It wasn't just soldiers who read The Art of War. So did Harvard MBAs. Wall Street was the ultimate theatre of war.

Costello seemed to think he was untouchable. He had toyed with him, lured him into his clutches. There was no doubt that a man of his experience would not make elementary errors like allowing a hotel room door to be left open. Costello thought he was so fucking clever. 'Well, so am I,' thought Brook. 'So am I.'

He took out his cell, checked his watch and made a call, playing absently with his bottom lip, rolling it in his fingers as he waited for the answer. 

 

 

It took another coffee, but the call was returned.

 

 

*

 

"Very nice, Terry...you managed to find the one decent restaurant in England?"

Dino raised his glass at the company round the table. Mel swatted his arm.

"Take no notice of him. He's a New Yorker. What can you expect?"

Terry had called them all for dinner, a chance to sit down and talk with family and friends in a more congenial atmosphere than a hospital waiting area or his stark hotel room. The past day or two had been an improvement. He wasn't sure if it had come from within or without but he could feel some tide turning. A weight that had been crushing him had suddenly disappeared and he felt like he was walking free of strain for the first time in a very long time. Sure, he still didn't have Annie, but he was ready to give her his best shot. There was almost a spring in his step again, like the old thrill of the chase. His confidence was returning. Maybe it was true. The sea has a bottom and you have to sink to it before you strike back for the light. Well, his lungs might be bursting but he could see the sun shining dimly just out of reach. A few more strong kicks and he would be there.

"So where's Liam? Thought he'd want to show off the new girl?" Zoe asked.

"He cried off. She had other plans. Liam apologized but said he would call in on Annie on his way out. You met the glorious Pilar?" Terry grinned across.

His daughter shook her head. "Not had time. What's she like?"

He laughed and gave the other men a knowing smirk. "I think they used to call women like her 'femme fatale'. Bloody gorgeous. Voluptuous temptress. He's like a little puppy dog about her, poor bastard..."

They chuckled at the image Terry described. "Now I so have to meet her," Zoe giggled. "Bet she'll hate me..."

"Bet you'll hate her more," Terry observed. "But not as much as Fliss. You all met Fliss?"

"I have," Harry butted in. "At the hospital. She brought some stuff for Liam. Liked the look of her..." he rolled his eyes and Jackie nudged him.

"Too right. 'Course young Byron is so bloody intuitive that he hasn't even noticed her yet."

"Who is she?" Nick asked. "Bit of all right?"

"His PA. Sweet girl. Pretty.  Lively. Intelligent. Arse over tit in love with him. He treats her like a kid sister," Terry shook his head and refilled wine glasses.

"Ouch," Zoe sighed. "God, Liam's so dense at times. Give him two women he will ALWAYS pick the one most likely to break his heart..."

"No worries. He can write a shit load of songs and make another few million. Love never earns you a fucking dime. Just bloody well costs...that right, fellas?" Nick grinned around the table at the men.

The women exchanged those looks that women always exchange when men have made those comments that men always make. The merriment continued, the men beginning to stray onto their favourite topics: sport, politics and which of them the waitress fancied. Zoe, Mel and Jackie chatted across them. No one mentioned Annie specifically although her absence was keenly felt. She was the missing piece of the equation.

Mel waited until Nick was deep in some story with the others, lowering his voice so they couldn't hear, obviously one of his unsavoury reminiscences, and then she raised the subject of Zoe's new relationship. "So...what happened? He's not listening..." she whispered.

"Quick....Zoe, I'm your sister-in-law. I need to know these things. I thought men like him only existed in my fantasy life," Jackie added, groaning crudely.

Zoe came over all shy. "He just came back, you know? We're just friends really these days..."

"Just friends...oh sure," Mel smirked. "...Who give each other hickies?" Zoe's hand flew to her neck and she shifted the collar of her blouse.

"Well, a bit more than friends," she giggled, taking a quick glance across at him and then shaking her right hand and blowing out as if to imply Nick was hot. The two other women snorted.

"Like we couldn't guess?" Jackie said, eyeing him up over her wine glass as she sipped. "He's like a walking hardon for women...I'm wet just looking at him..."

"You're a happily married woman, Jax... and we all know you have eyes only for Harry..." Zoe reminded her.

"No, my body is his alone. My eyes, on the other hand, rather like to wander now and again," she teased.

"You ladies need anything?" Nick left the men doubled up over what ever he had been telling them and turned back to the others. His comment made them burst out laughing. "One at a time, girls, I'm slowing down these days..." he replied with a wink, clearly working out that he had been the subject of the conversation and loving it with his usual arrogant swagger. Zoe kicked him and told him to go and talk shit with the men. He turned back to them but not without licking his lips and giving the other two the benefit of one of his broody looks.

"Don't encourage him," Zoe said and then looked at him adoringly. "He's everything in my world. So, yeah, you could say, we're doing fine. Anyway, talking about hickies...." she gave Mel a stare. "And mine was on my neck...." Mel blushed and yanked up her décolletage to hide the bruise on her left breast. "And was Dino shaving whilst under the influence...? Look at that scratch on his face!"

"No, he just uses my nails when he's run out of blades," Mel retorted bare faced and looked across at him fondly. He caught her eye and raised his glass. "Don't talk about sex, girls...I'm trying to forget just how painful sitting down is..."

"I think we better leave that one be," Jackie said. "Or I'll have to be as brutally honest and frankly, I haven't anything good to dish unless I go back a few years...Barnie is just a pain at nights. He's sleeping in our bed again...." She rolled her eyes.

"Do not get into that!" Mel said. "Once they start getting used to that, you can kiss goodbye to sex. Dump him on Grandma Penelope and get a weekend away. Lots of dirty toys, lube and pointless lingerie..."

Jackie sighed. "We keep promising ourselves...we must. We want another and unless we actually have sex it's going to be a bit unlikely..."

Zoe listened to them. "God, I can't imagine what it must be like to have kids. I can't even imagine Nick as a father. Although he seems to have very strong urges in that direction..."

"Macho men. They have to prove their virility. And he's a Mediterranean at heart. He'll want strapping sons to spoil and adoring daughters to pamper. Don't expect diaper changing and wiping runny noses, though. Not sure alpha males extend to those skills," Mel observed.

 

"...There's been a question on my mind all evening, mate," Nick said. "Were you fighting or fucking? Either way, looks like you had fun..." He indicated the marks on Dino's face and the slightly swollen lip.

"The latter," Terry answered. "You didn't see him lower himself gingerly into the chair before?"

Dino gave them a baleful look. "At least I'm getting it, boys...and how...."

"Mate, one word to that waitress and she'd have me over the table...."Terry cracked.

"She was looking at me. Fondled my shoulder as she took my order," Nick retorted.

"Slipped me her phone number," Harry said straight faced. They all scoffed at that one. "Okay, so I made that up. But I could tell she was thinking it..."

"Actually she's not my type," Dino observed. "Too skinny. Terry...bet she's doing it for you, though..."

"I do not have a type. I like many shapes of women..."

"Yeah, but you fall for the skinny ones," Dino added.

"With a few notable exceptions."

"I like dark hair," Harry added. 

"As long as they're blonde on top?" Nick sniggered.

"What about you, Costello? What rings your bell?" Dino grinned over.

Nick considered it carefully. "As long as she's got a cunt..." The others groaned and Terry winced. "Well, come on, like you don't think the same? I just tell the truth...!" he defended, smiling broadly. "Although I was once in Phnom Penh and I spent a most enjoyable night with a lady who didn't have one....In my defence I have to say that I didn't realize that at the time...Christ, I was smashed out of my head...."

"You spent the night with a guy and didn't even know?" Harry gasped.

"Well, not until the light of day..." Nick replied. "Jesus, he had great tits, though...!"

"I've heard enough. You fuckin' made that up..." Terry said.

"I fucking didn't! I don't have to make anything up. I couldn't even imagine half of what I've done in my time...don't even remember most of it..." he answered smugly and carried on eating.

Terry sat back and listened to the conversations flying around the table. Here were some of the people he cared most about in the world - with a few notable missing exceptions. He raised his glass and the others stopped and looked at him. "To Annie..." They all followed his lead.

"She should be here..." Zoe murmured. He stroked her face. "She is...always... in you..." Father and daughter looked at each other for a moment, many things unsaid. Most of them were not needed. "To Mum..." Zoe clinked his glass fondly.

 

After the meal, they all took liqueurs and coffee in the lounge. Mel found herself seated at the end of a couch; Terry came up and perched on the arm by her side. "Everything okay?"

She nodded. "I lied."

Terry grunted softly. "Probably wiser."

"In this case, there is no probably. He guesses we did more than exchange pleasantries but he's accepted nothing really happened..." She leaned forward to take an after dinner chocolate, smiling her thanks to Harry. "...Just say nothing, Terry. This is not the time to exercise that conscience of yours..."

He nodded and moved away as Nick handed him a balloon of cognac and gave another to Dino. "Cigar?"

Terry shook his head, Dino accepted one. "We cool?"

Dino eyed him up as he snipped the end and lit it. "I'm here, aren't I?"

There was a silence before Dino resumed. "Just watch your step. This is not a time to make a mistake with me..." He gave Terry a knowing look and then smiled. "So you given up smoking? I find that hard to believe...you've been trying for thirty years..."

 

*

 

"Nick?"

"Wait up...I'm on the phone..."

Zoe sat down at his laptop which was booted up and online. She sat for awhile and then tried something. Tapping in the website address, the screen immediately opened up and she found herself given free range of the London Metropolitan police's main frame. From previous visits she knew that only certain areas were available to the public and yet this gave her a whole gamut of options that were not normal options. At that moment, Nick sauntered in. "What you doing?"

She went to close down but he reached a hand out and stopped her. "You should not be on that."

"Nor should you," Zoe retorted. 

"I wasn't."

"Your computer automatically bypasses protocols and passwords. How does it do that?"

Nick gave her a look but didn't answer, closing it off.

"Nick!"

"Don't ask me. You are not going surfing in classified material. It's too dangerous."

"Come on, Nick, I was just working on a story. I wanted to check someone's record..."

"No. This is not a game. I shouldn't even let you near my laptop."

"I wouldn't compromise you! If I wanted to use anything, I would run it by you."

He shook his head. "Not good enough, even if I believed you - which I don't. If you got some good copy you would run with it. And lie about it. I know you."

"So? Like you use this for legit reasons? Even when you were in the game you were using it for all sorts of nefarious purposes..."

"That is not the point. Look, Zoe, there are many confidential areas that have tracing mechanisms that you would not detect. If you hack in, you have a finite period even with my masking programmes. You haven't got the technical abilities to do a raid and get out without getting caught. And I am not having MI6 turning up on my doorstep with a fucking warrant. They're looking for something on me. So you hand them the ace card? No, Zoe...and don't ask me again."

"MI6 is after you? Why? What did you do? And why don't they just pick you up? You're traveling under your own name..."

"They can't just pick me up. This isn't Stalinist USSR, sweetheart. I haven't done anything in particular. Of late. It isn't just MI6. They would all like to lock me up and throw away the key. I'm dangerous. They don't trust me. Even when I'm being a good citizen, I know so much shit they wish I didn't."

"Then why didn't they do a hit on you when you resigned?" She asked. Her lack of anxiety about that potential occurrence disturbed him. He suspected she thought him inviolable and could not imagine anyone ever getting one over on him. Her confidence in him was touching but vastly misplaced. This was the time for a man in his business to keep his eyes open. No one is ever beyond reach.

"I've got dirt on them all. In the event of my untimely death, mechanisms will be put in place and a lot of people will fall. But, if I break the law then I'm as liable as anyone else to prosecution. Remember how they got Capone?"

Zoe rolled her eyes. "So you pay your taxes. Big deal. Murder is a little more serious..."

"Murder? I've never committed murder. I'm an assassin. There's a distinct difference."

"Well, that defence would never stand up in a court of law, mate," Zoe replied smartly.

"Won't come to court unless you open your little mouth in the wrong places or start surfing the Pentagon files and getting me in the crap...Zoe, I don't really want to talk about this. Thought you were going to see your Mum." He simply changed the topic. Case closed.

"She's with the shrinks all morning. I'm going in later. I was trying to get on with some work but you won't help me..."

Nick checked his watch. "I've got a lunch meeting. Interviewing a few new blokes while I'm over here.  Just about got time for a short session. That should give your itchy fingers something to do. Bedroom now with your knickers off...!"

Her initial reaction was to ignore his crude suggestion. She was a little peeved at his total dismissal of her request. Nick, however, seemed oblivious to her petulant mood, coming up behind her and rubbing against her back, bending to nibble at her neck and whispering further incitements to sin in her ear. It occurred to her how quickly his mind had drifted from the rather terse refusal to cooperate into this priapic state of arousal. But he was a man. They would sign their life away when they were in that mood.

Even Nick? Could she inveigle Nick into doing what she wanted with a bit of sexual persuasion? The idea attracted her. She wondered exactly how much power over him she really did possess. It was kind of wrong to test him but all the more intriguing for that. So she pushed a few boundaries? Why not? He sure as hell had pushed enough with her over the time they had known each other.

She got up and flounced ahead of him into the bedroom, divesting her clothes as she went. Nick ripped off his T-shirt and dropped his loose sweat pants; he was naked underneath. Scooping her up, he fell to the bed with her on top, helping her out of her knickers that were little more anyway than a scrap of lace.

"Nick?" she cooed softly as he nuzzled at her breasts. She massaged his furred chest seductively; he looked up lazily.

"Huh?"

"I feel a bit wicked...want to push the boat out?"

"Meaning?" Nick muttered but she could see the glint of interest in his dark eyes. Sex had been very good but fairly conventional since they had got back together. It had been romantic, healing, warm, passionate - but not really dirty. Nick had a healthy taste for dirty. She didn't imagine that he'd lost that in his metamorphosis into sober citizen.

She jumped up and ran to her vanity case, rummaging around until she found something she could use as lube. It occurred to her she needed to go shopping and get some aids. With a tube of petroleum jelly in her hands, she launched herself back on the bed. "You remember how I was never very keen on anal?"

He flopped back on the bed with a lazy grin. "I'm too big. Frighten a lot of girls..."

"Stop bragging...well, you're not as big as you think...it's all a matter of relaxing your muscles..."

He rolled on one arm and cocked his head curiously at her. "You would know this how?"

She shrugged. "I've experimented. Learnt a few tricks..."

"You telling me you've done this with other blokes?" She wasn't sure from his cool reaction what he was thinking, but his dick was hard. Whether it offended his odd sense of morality or not, it was pushing his buttons all right.

"Yeah. I've done it all, Nick. Just like you. Girls. Boys. Groups."

"Double?" She detected a hint of darkness in the way he said it; she was feeding his fantasy.

"Sure...couple of times....that's something else, hey? You thinking about that, Nickie...? You, me and another guy?"

His voice was gruff as he pulled her to him, running his finger down the crease of her small naked buttocks. "I don't want that with you..."

"I didn't say you did...but you want to think about it, don't you? Thinking is not doing...thinking is just fantasy...imagine that, Nick...me fucking some guy...on top...you push me over and give it to me up my sweet little ring..."

He groaned and pushed her down on the bed, hitching up her hips, his left hand slipping down to masturbate her. She was wet. He picked up the tube and she felt him liberally coat her in the thick jelly and then she knew he was applying it to his fingers. She had a flicker of panic as she realised he was using the finger of his right hand to tease her open. So much for relaxing; she felt herself tighten instinctively against the intrusion of the cool, solid false digit.

"Hey, relax...it's no different from a dildo...slimmer than most..." he muttered and kissed the back of her neck sensuously, biting gently as he nudged her open. She calmed herself, breathed slowly and let him expertly open her up. They had tried this a few times in the early days but she had found it painful and he had backed off, unwilling to upset her. But she wasn't lying. Other guys had been less gentle with her since and under the influence of various substances, relaxation had been pretty easy. Let's face it, she thought to herself, she hardly knew half of what she had done.

But this was Nick, not some drug-fuelled orgy. She was still a little in awe of him at times. And yet...there was a certain attraction in trying to see how far he could lose his cool in the face of his deeper fantasies. She couldn't imagine that anything she could dream up would be comparable to the depravities of his inner life.

He covered her, his body hot and hairy, bristly against her soft skin, but his movements were surprisingly gentle considering what his hands were doing to her. Her head hung down as she panted and let him use her. She felt his cockhead stroking her vagina and then he slid in, pumping slowly, whispering to her as he used another finger to open her butt up further. "You feeling it, baby...?"

"You ever done it, Nick? With a guy?"

"I've done it all, baby....all..." he gasped and then she felt him pull out, coat himself in the gel and, using his fingers to guide him, gently enter her from behind. A wave of hot nausea flooded across her but it passed, she relaxed and he pushed a little further.

"Nick...!" she groaned.

"Shush...it's alright...oh Jesus, you are so fucking tight...!" he murmured and rotated his hips, gripping her buttocks. His right hand was holding her too firmly; she would be bruised. He didn't always know how much strength he was using. "You okay....you okay, baby...?"

"So good....so good....more, Nick....give me more....don't hold back....the others didn't....they fucked me like I was a rag doll...do me hard, Nick...make them go away...."

He made a sound like a sob; she wondered if she had heard it right. But her words had the effect she wanted and he moved fast, rutting until fully hilted. It hurt; she couldn't pretend it didn't. She once read that some people can never really enjoy it; she was probably one of those. But Nick wasn't aware any more; he seemed to have gone somewhere inside his head. All he could see was his pleasure; the red mist of orgasm descending. She tried to relax and go with him and just hoped he wouldn't be long. Her prayers were answered soon enough. With a deep groan he came, silent and violent in the shuddering jerks as his body jacked with release.

She fell to the bed; he pulled out and lay face down next to her. For moments neither of them spoke. 

"You okay?" he finally asked in a husky voice. She didn't answer. "Baby? Did I hurt you...I lost it..."

"I'm okay," she whispered unconvincingly. He turned her round and saw the tears on her cheeks. 

"Aw....Christ...why didn't you say? I would have pulled out if you'd said..."

"I didn't want to spoil it for you...I would do anything for you, Nick...." He sat up and dragged over his T-shirt, wiping himself off and groaning when he saw a streak of blood, gently dabbing at her body. Then his eye caught the bruises on her buttocks. It upset him markedly.

"You don't have to do shit like that for me...I thought you said...man, those other guys...I got angry...I could see them...I don't want to think about them...!"

Zoe sniffed and wiped her eyes. "They're part of my life. You've got to accept I'm not the girl I used to be. If you can't..."

"I already did. I just...it still hurts...I'm just a man. It hurts to think of them using you...and that I might use you to...."He lay down and drew her to him. "I would do anything for you. But we don't have to humiliate each other to prove we're in love. That's not what loving someone means. There are some things we might never do together. It doesn't mean a fuck...Never again...okay?"

She nodded and curled up next to him. They lay awhile just touching and caressing, both calm now the madness was over. "Nick?"

"Huh?"

"Don't forget you've got a lunch meeting."

"Yeah...right....give me five..."he whispered into her hair. "You gonna be all right while I'm gone?"

"Yeah...I was going to do some work but ..."

"...You need that information..."

"Some...it doesn't matter. I don't want to compromise you..."

He rolled back and looked at the ceiling. "Just The Yard? CID?"

She nodded. "I just want to do a few background checks..."

"Okay. Just this once..." He jumped up and strode to the shower. "Let's get cleaned up and I'll show you how it works. But, Zoe, you use this very carefully and do not dare exceed the time limits I place on you..."

She smiled and leapt off the bed at him. "Nickie...you are so good to me...!" He shook his head and picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom and into the shower.

It was extraordinary how he had relented. The Nick of old would never have indulged her in this way. Was it the sex? Guilt that he might have hurt her? Afraid that he might drive her away? Had she bought this from him in some unsavoury bartering of her body for a favour? Zoe felt a sense of guilt that far transcended the actual issue at hand. She had manipulated him by setting up a scenario that she knew would cause him some confusion. And she had got what she wanted. It was a pretty shabby thing to do to him.

 

Nevertheless it didn't stop her using the advantage. As soon as he had gone, she was onto his laptop and was away, obeying his instructions, copying and pasting to her pen drive anything that she deemed might be of interest.

But she wasn't on the Metropolitan Police website. That had never been any more than a dry run to see if his computer could bypass the systems. Her interest was The MOD, S.A.S and MI5 and 6, amongst others. She was after a background check on a very particular individual.

One Terrence Andrew Thorne.

It had been on her mind ever since Nick had mentioned how little she knew about her parents. Her talk with Harry had also set off her radar, particularly his oddly evasive reference to 'the accident' and the other incident when her father had been shot in Indonesia. Somehow she felt that it was important to gather together an understanding of his past and through him maybe learn what her mother's life had really been like. She herself was contemplating life with a man whose career had brought him regularly in contact with extreme danger. There could be lessons to be learned here. Her mother's suicide attempt had made her conscious of mortality. Those she loved would not always be with them. She didn't want her mother or father to leave this world and for no trace of what they had done to be left behind. For Zoe suspected the story of their lives was one that was rich in incident and sacrifice. She would find out what she could for now and then visit the hospital later. With any luck, they would let Mum out and she could begin her recovery.

And Zoe could then begin her most interesting investigative case yet.

 

*

 

"How did you get into this business?" Annie asked Fliss. They were sitting together on the patio having afternoon tea. The hospital had discharged her the next morning and Liam and Fliss had brought her home. He was lying in the sun reading, sprawled out on the grass, lost in a novel.

Fliss poured a cup of tea. "You want one, Liam?"

"No..." he muttered. "Chuck us a beer..." Fliss jumped up and disappeared inside returning with a can and throwing it to him.

"He drinks too much..." she observed. "Sorry, you asked about this business...you mean PAing? It sort of happened by mistake. I finished Uni...my degree was Music and Business Admin..."

"Odd combination," Annie observed.

Fliss shrugged. "I wanted Music, Mum and Dad suggested something useful to combine with it...I took a year off and went to Australia and then when I got back I temped for a while. Got this contract working for a theatrical agent and he liked the look of me. Gave me a junior executive post...next thing Liam starts asking for an assistant and well, I was just there at the right time. We clicked. I mean, as friends..." She blushed slightly. Annie read the subtext. Poor kid, she had it bad for him.

"That was quite a break. So this is what you see as your career? Pop management?" Annie asked her.

"Well..." Fliss hesitated. "Actually I would love to be a singer. I'm a good singer and I've studied Music, of course...I suppose I'm hanging on the edges hoping that some of it will rub off on me...but, if I can't do it then at least I'll be helping those who can..."

Annie considered her words. "Well, make the most of it. Surely Liam can do something for you...."

"He doesn't know. I can't use him. People are always trying to use him. It's embarrassing. I might be no good."

"You write as well?"

Fliss nodded. "The music's no problem but the lyrics are harder for me. I'm not like Liam. He comes up with these great poetic hooks....I struggle with that side. I have things I want to say but don't find it so easy..."

"He's been doodling for years. I used to find odd little things scribbled on bits of paper; disjointed thoughts, observationa, that sort of thing. But there are many ways to skin a cat. He's a natural lyricist. But you can learn. Start with the music then and just see what it inspires in you. ..."

Fliss seemed surprised that Annie was interested; it encouraged her to talk more openly. "I have this piece I'm working on...Perhaps I could show you? I've written a few things recently. I've....suddenly got my muse..." She gave a bitter little laugh.

"Sure, I'd love to listen...he's occupied...why not show me now? We can take our cuppas to the music room..."

"Just going upstairs, Liam..." Fliss shouted over and he nodded without really taking much notice. The two women went up to the large studio on the second floor, where Liam spent a great deal of his time. Fliss sat down at the piano and began to play a series of sombre chords and then in came her soft, rather breathy voice, a curious blend of little girl and rather clever raconteur. Annie was drawn in straight away.

 

 

"Whoah...it was great...super...you should sing this for Liam...!" Annie exclaimed.

Fliss shuddered, absently playing chords. "I think not." The girl seemed far away, in a world of her own.

"Did he inspire it?" Annie asked cautiously.

"I think you should probably have a rest," Fliss mumbled. "The nurse said not to tire you out..."

After a lifetime of Terry, Annie was not to be put off by this obvious evasion but she gave the girl her due. It wasn't her place to interfere nor was it right to try and raise the subject on her behalf with her son. But she was rather pleased all the same. She had only known this girl a few hours and felt an instant rapport with her. Fliss would be so good for Liam if he only opened his eyes and let her in.

Annie obediently let the girl escort her to her room and leave her to her nap. But she didn't go to bed. Instead, she sat by the window and watched Liam in the garden below. Fliss came out to join him; his lazy mood was passed and he had excess energy to spare. They found a football. Moments later the two of them were playing a rough game of soccer, elbowing and tackling each other as they fought for the ball. Annie was reminded of her children at play a few years ago except Zoe would by now have fallen in a heap and started whining at him for being too physical. Fliss was not put off and gave as good as she got, surprisingly strong and wiry for such a delicate little thing. Liam certainly made no attempt to take it easy on her.

At one point he turned the ball deftly and set off using his superior speed and strength to shrug Fliss off.  Fliss didn't hesitate, throwing herself in a full body tackle and bringing him down heavily, falling on top. Liam was winded and lay panting. "Oi, this isn't fucking rugger...!"

"Sorry, was I too rough?" Fliss laughed as she climbed off, holding out her hand to help him up.

"Yeah, right...too rough for me...see if you can take this..." and he dived on her, getting her in a wrestling headlock, bringing her down and straddling her, then tickling her unmercifully. Fliss shrieked and kicked out with her legs and arms but he subdued her until they were both out of breath and laughing, lying side-by-side in the grass, chatting happily.

All this Annie took in and shook her head at them. "She's your friend, Liam. You like being with her. That's where it should begin," she whispered to no one in particular. It wouldn't make any difference. Liam would do as all men did. Miss what was staring him right in the face.

But then, from her own experience, she knew women were just as talented at that as men. How long could she herself pretend that she didn't know where her real obligations and interest lay? Zoe was due over later. Annie made her mind up. It was time to stop ignoring the elephant in the corner.

 

*

 

Brook checked his mails in an internet café in a backstreet. There were two files which he printed out and stuck into his inner pocket. Back at the hotel, he stretched out with a beer and read through them both carefully, annotating the margins. It made interesting reading. The first larger folder was documenting the career of said Costello from his time spent with the Australian SAS. He had worked with US Special Forces in Afghanistan on some very dangerous extermination squads. The man was clearly a killer. The bulk of the file was a detailed resume of another undercover mission that had transpired fifteen years' ago. That was the link. Terry Thorne had been the commanding officer.

It was quite a story of heroism although surprisingly little known, even now. Preston wondered why the men involved hadn't been decorated for bravery or whether it had been too secret a mission to acknowledge. There were some patchy areas in the story as it followed Costello's part in it only and did not fully reveal what happened to the other men. It made Brook curious to find out more.

The second file was slimmer. Costello, invalided out of the army after the loss of his right hand in the previous operation, had undergone some experimental transplant using a false limb and then washed up a few years later in an international unit that was highly secret and apparently recruited from across the western powers. It was unclear exactly to whom they answered but suggested that there was a secret network that bypassed the UN Security Councils and preferred to solve some of their problems in a rather unorthodox manner . There was no further information other than that the codename for the unit was CROSSBOW. Appended at the bottom was a short paragraph, alleging that Costello had left this group some years ago and was no longer attached to any organised quasi-military or intelligence agency. The name Mckenzie, Barry was stated in brackets underneath as if some further reference.

Too many question marks, Brook thought. He left the hotel, ate dinner in a bistro nearby and then made a call from a booth in the corridor. He gave the number to Ryan who called him back there shortly afterwards from a safer line.

 

The cold chill that Costello's gaze had first awoken seeped into his bones again. But he knew he was close and that backing off would not save him from a man like this now. Costello had targeted him and he knew that his fate was in his hands. Unless he acted first.

 

 

*

 

The conservatory was the quietest part of the house where she had quickly learnt to take refuge from the ubiquitous residents and visitors who seemed a constant feature of the place. Annie wasn't a lover of crowds at the best of times but Liam's house was more like a public gathering place than a home. Apart from the hordes of workmen, there were always groups of people wandering in and out, band members, representatives of his agent, friends, various other hangers on and fixers. She wondered how he stood having them around him all the time. By nature, Liam was quite a solitary soul who had always enjoyed his own company even if at other times he had been as gregarious as the next young man.

The quiet retreat only sparsely furnished with plants, held her attention. She filled a jug of water in the sink and wandered about tending to the rather sorrowful blooms that had been neglected in this hot weather. In latter years she had become quite interested in gardening. It made her think of the beautiful grounds in her French home. She hadn't been there for two years and wondered if they were overgrown with weeds by now or did Terry still have someone to look over it all. It made her sad to think of that place where they had been so happy declining into some shabby remnants of its former glory. Much like their marriage had.

"..This could be your greatest challenge yet..." His voice made her spin round almost dropping the watering can. "I mean, turning this into a real hot house. Can't imagine Liam's going to spend much time growing anything unless it's cannabis..."

And he was standing there. After all this time.

He was simply standing there, smiling softly, watching her from the doorway.

"Terry...! I didn't expect you until later..." Annie replied, nervously pulling at the sleeves of the pale blue cardigan she was wearing. Now that the moment had come, she just felt drained and unable to know where to start and what to say. Since she had whispered to Zoe that she wanted to ask him if he would come to Liam's and told her that she was finally  prepared to meet him for a short while, this moment had loomed large in her mind as an ordeal that made her heart pound and her hands sweat. Now it was here she was dumbstruck and shy.

He looked so good. She was surprised to see that he had worn a suit; he was very formally attired almost as if he was working, clean cut, smart, polished, well-groomed. The way he always faced the world when he wanted to make a good impression or hide behind some image of courteous respectability to set someone's mind at ease. She thought he looked tanned and fit. His hair was greyer but still thick and wavy. His face might be craggier but it still was youthful and handsome to her eyes. He would always be the most attractive man she had ever met.

"May I?" he asked her permission to enter. She nodded; he walked across the black and white tiled floor that was dappled in sunlight.  Her senses seemed on high alert as if everything she saw, heard, even smelt, was significant  and would always remind her of this moment. Terry pointed to two rattan armchairs in a shady corner. Annie sat down on one and he took his place opposite her.

She watched as he undid the button of his jacket, hitching up his pants at the knee to preserve the crease while he sat, playing with the cuffs of his shirt, flexing his neck slightly: all the tiny rituals he demonstrated that revealed his inner turmoil. This was a stressful situation for him too. It was strange knowing a man so well as to be able to read his hidden body language and yet for him to now be like a stranger. An intimate stranger. Impossible for either of them to hide from the other. Wasn't that why she was so afraid of meeting with him? That he might read her soul too easily?

"You look great. I can't believe the difference a few days has made," he observed. 

"Well, a few days, a few pints of blood and a skin-full of pills. It's a wonder I'm not floating..." she answered shyly.

 He grinned. "How are you bearing up? Glad to be out of hospital?"

Annie nodded. "God, yes. I hated the place, although they were very nice. I'm feeling okay, Terry. Embarrassed mostly." She shrugged and he saw how her fingers were constantly moving, tugging at imaginary threads, rubbing her palms together, picking at her nails. He had an urge to hold her hands still to stop the movement - or maybe he just longed so much for some contact with her instead of having to face her across this sterile distance. It made him conscious of his own hands; he found himself joining his fingers and rotating his thumbs - and his foot was tapping. He willed himself to stop.

"I'm sorry about...what I said....at the hospital...I....just needed some time...I know it must have seemed like a slap in the face to you..." She hesitated, failing to complete sentences but her meaning was clear.

"It's okay. I'm here now. No need to apologise..." He gave her a smile that he knew was professionally glib, his reassuring, bedside manner. She surveyed him, her face giving nothing away. He wondered what she was really thinking behind those steady deep blue eyes. Perhaps that's what he ought to be asking her not the trite formula he always rolled out, the usual mantra for those overtaken by calamity.  "Is there anything that you need?"

Come on, Terry. Don't spin her the usual line. You're not on the job now...Calm the client down, run around and fetch and carry for her, take the decision- making out of her hands. Let her hand her life over to you because you're the one who knows what's best for everyone...for Christ's sake, let her talk and keep off the platitudes. Give the control of the conversation over to her...

"Talk to me, Annie. Why did you do it?" He asked her the question right out. There had been too much misunderstanding. He wanted to see if she even knew.

She seemed relieved at the refreshingly upfront approach "I wanted to check out, Terry. There wasn't any point any more."

"And now? You still feel like that?"

Annie paused before answering. "I see things more clearly now. I have a lot to live for. There are a people who deserve more from me..." he detected a veneer of placation as if she was churning out some rote speech she had planned.

"What of your own needs?"

She didn't seem too happy with that. He was beginning to push aside her careful construct. "Are you a psychiatrist as well?"

"As well as what?" Terry threw it back at her. She avoided the question.

"If you want me to say this is your fault then I won't. It was my fault. But yes, it was about you. It was about a lot of other things as well. And some of them are not your business." He recognised her lobbing back the ball; this was more like it. He had something to aim for now. 

"Fair enough. You want my advice?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "Not much - but I don't suppose that will stop you."

He grinned, his tongue peeking out and resting playfully on his upper lip. "Too old to change now. Anyway I'm usually right.' He pointed a finger at her jauntily. "Note I did allow some room for error there..."

Her face broke into a smile. "Go on, Mr. Fixit. So let's hear the advice..."

"Stop looking back to that day. It happened. Like a car accident. Nothing to be gained from going over and over the minutiae that led up to it. Maybe you'll never fully work that out. Not everything has a reason. That is a fallacy of the modern world which has raised scientific reasoning to almost infallible status. Give up on the intellectual debates. What counts now is where you go from here."

"Easier said than done. Do you have any idea how ashamed I am? How hard it is to have to meet with everyone and see the doubt in their eyes?  Especially facing you. I feel like the worst kind of fool. The worst kind of coward.  I let down my family...."

"...What does it matter what I think? Not that I probably think what you imagine I think. If you want to know, it just makes me sad. Anyone can get to breaking point, love. I've been there myself..."

"You didn't slit your wrists!"

"No. But I'm not you. What you do is not always the point. I think that sometimes it's not always a good idea to try and understand and talk things out in fine detail- whatever the therapists say. What you understand now may not be what you understand in a few weeks or months down the line. For now, just look ahead. Decide what's going to make you feel better today and take each day as it comes..."

"Is that what you tell your clients?"

"I don't have any clients any more. But yes, I would probably say that. Clients always spend time looking for blame. 'We should not have come to this country. He should not have taken that route. I should have kissed him goodbye. If he didn't have such a flashy car....The company don't employ enough bodyguards...Why don't people like you put your energies into prevention and actually tell expatriates this before they arrive - or would that cut down your profits?' Someone always has to be blamed. But, sweetheart, sometimes things just happen. Life is arbitrary and a series of circumstances arise that might never on another day have fallen into place in quite the same way."

"Isn't that just an easy way of reneging on your responsibilities? To wash your hands and come out with the hackneyed - 'it can't be helped?' If you do that then how can you ever really ensure you never find yourself making the same mistakes over and over again?"

"I said sometimes. Not always. Let's look at this another way. What do you do now?"

Another blunt question - but one that had to be faced. Annie went quiet and began to wring her hands. He knew this was bothering her. She wasn't ready to be left alone and yet she understood that even those who loved her did not have limitless resources of time and energy to devote to taking care of her. Or she did not want their lives to be sacrificed to her needs. "I'm not sure. There are a few options..."

"Okay, let's look at them all. First Liam. He has to be in the States next week. You can't stay here even with a nurse - this place would drive you batty. He would take you with him - but do you really want to hang around with his crowd? I very much doubt it. And I can hardly see you and the lovely Pilar hitting it off somehow..."

"God, she drives me demented! I feel like slapping her silly, the stupid self-absorbed little cow...!" Terry almost chuckled to hear the acerbic Annie of old breaking out. "You know what I call her? The Spanish Fly. Makes young men hard all night long...."

At that he burst out laughing. "I beg to differ. Not young men. All men. That girl is Viagra on legs..." Annie giggled at his reply.

"Feels good? To laugh?" He asked her.

She agreed. "It's part of healing. Even death has its funny side, I suppose."

"Too right. So...back to the question. Liam is not going to be able to bail you out here. What about Zoe?"

Annie shrugged. "She would if I asked her. She's already said she'll take compassionate leave. The kid is so full of guilt over this. She thinks it's all her fault."

"Yeah? Christ, she looks a mess, hey?"

Annie nodded. "I haven't seen her for months. I knew things were not right but what could I do? She wouldn't listen to me and every time I tried to get through to her, she'd just have a screaming fit at me and tell me to butt out. She's a grown woman. I just didn't know..." He could hear the telltale break in her voice. She was close to tears on the subject of their daughter. So Zoe was a contributory factor; she had felt helpless to support her daughter in her decline. They had both damn well needed him around. Even if he wasn't sure if that would have done much good.

"She's back with Nick. Did you know that?" Terry said.

"Yes. She told me. I'm glad. He's the only one who can get through to her."

"She should never have married that bastard..."

"She wouldn't have if she hadn't been pining over Nick. We played a hand in that, Terry. Whatever Nick is, he loves her and she him. Who were we to interfere?"

"I know. Nick's got her now and she's safe with him. He's got her measure and he will not let her fuck about anymore. But that's all the more reason not to ask her to take on more responsibility. She can barely look after herself. They need time alone."

"I know. I would never ask this of her...."

"What about Mel? Maybe a few weeks with her in New York?"

Annie raised her eyebrows. "I don't think so. Things are not great between us, these days. I mean, she's my friend, of course, and she didn't hesitate about flying over to help me but...we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. I don't think either of us would really benefit from that at the moment - and I wouldn't want to put Dino in the middle..." The look on Terry's face did not entirely agree with her although he knew she was right in the main.

"I imagine Harry and Jax would welcome another hand in the house with Barnie, and he would cheer anyone up..." Terry suggested.

"I couldn't! My God, how could I ask them to take that on! He's starting a new job in a few months and they want a long holiday first. He was talking Oz. I suggested they take the house in France whenever they want too as well.. It's just standing there....but no, Terry. He's not responsible for me. Even if he did save my life...that's too much to ask of him!"

"He'd do it if I asked..."

"I know he would. Don't dare..." she retorted forcefully.

"...So where does that leave us then? Your bloke Stephen?" He stared straight at her and watched her wince.

"No. I can't ask that of him either. Not because he wouldn't - he is a very good friend, Terry, whether you like him or not - but because I've used him enough already. He's in love with me. He wants to marry me. But I don't want him. We've talked and I told him the truth. I also resigned my job. He has a busy year ahead and I cannot fulfill my obligations as his assistant and researcher at the moment..."

"What did he say to that?"

"He refused to accept my resignation. He told me that regardless of what happened between us, he still needed my professional help and he didn't think this was a very good time for me to make decisions about my career. He said he would get some temporary person and the job would be waiting for me whenever I was ready for it."

"Bloody decent of him. You mean I can't even hate the bastard?"

Annie smiled. "I think you can still probably manage that with your usual irrational ability to be boorish where women are concerned..."

"Good. I intend to. So....who does that leave? Your family?"

"Good God, you really want me to go crazy? Mum is too frail. She doesn't even know about you and me getting divorced, never mind this little stunt of mine. Our Cat came down to see me but she hasn't got the time, the space or the inclination and Peter is still overseas. His wife doesn't much like me anyway. She finds me 'professorial and arrogant'. What she means is thinner and better looking than her. No, I can't ask any of them. I think the only resort is a private clinic. I can get therapy, be looked after and everyone is happy. It'll be expensive though..."

"Over my dead body...' he muttered and then looked up, embarrassed to be caught so vehemently gainsaying her. He waved his hand about. "I don't mean I wouldn't pay...I meant, there is no way we're going to dump you in a home..."

"...It wouldn't be like some retirement home, Terry. And I'm not sure the decision is your responsibility anymore..."

"Then I am bloody well making it mine. You're not going into an institution, no matter how expensive and luxurious it is. You got that?"

"Terry, then we've exhausted every realistic possibility..."

"There is one more we haven't looked at..." This time he took his chance and reached over to take her hands in his. They felt cool and clammy; his were warm and dry. "I want you to hear me out. Let me finish before you say anything. Do I have your promise?"

She was guarded but did not argue. It hurt to look her in the eyes. He could see the bruised, frightened expression; it was taking all her courage to sit here and face him. Harry said Penny had given her a piece of her mind when she had gone to the hospital. He had said it had made him shudder to hear what she had told Annie - but it had worked and Penny had known it would. Terry intended to go round with the biggest bunch of flowers he had ever bought and take her out to dinner tonight. Harry said she had jumped on the grenade for all of them. Her only comment had been; "Well, she already dislikes me intensely so what did I have to lose?" Christ, Penny was a card and no mistake. No wonder he had loved her so much.

"I'm not working full time. My place in Queensland can manage without me. It's a bloody shithouse anyway. I have a few business interests but nothing that can't be dealt with online. I want to take you somewhere neutral....maybe Spain or Italy, somewhere warm, hire a villa for a few months, see out the summer - and you can recuperate there. We can get professional help, you can do whatever you like. I'll be around, but not in your face...You will never be alone unless you wish to be...I can get you back on your feet, Annie. I've done stuff like this for other people, countless times. Won't you let me do it for you?"

She seemed not to have imagined that this was where he was leading and she simply stared back at him speechless. Moments ticked away. He was still holding her hands, absently turning them, palm upwards, and dropping his fingers to massage her pulse spots. Her slight wince made him jump back, realizing with horror that he was running his thumbs across her scars. He looked down. "I'm so sorry...I forgot..."

"It's okay. Do you want to see them? They're very neat."  She eased off the elastic bandage and peeled back the plaster beneath. He saw the still raw but finely healing scar. "Your knife is very sharp. No jagged edges," she muttered wryly. He felt his eyes fill but struggled to hold back the tears.

"Say yes, Annie. Just say yes..." He replaced the dressing and recovered it gently.

"But, what happens when I'm better? When you leave me again?" His heart bled at her sad little admission of frailty. She was saying that she would never really be better. Her physical wounds and the worst of her emotional ones would heal but she would never be over it all. But he knew better than to try and say too much all at once. This was delicate. She had to be eased bit by bit into self awareness. So did he.

"One day at a time. Who knows what we'll find if we give each other a chance? If the threat of losing someone does anything of value, it concentrates the mind on what's really important. Can you remember now exactly what drove us apart in the first place? Or if you can, does it seem quite as important as it once was?"

He saw hope flare in her beautiful eyes but still the note of caution lingered. "You won't change your mind today when you leave, will you? I can't go through that again... I just can't...not ever...!"

He shook his head. "I promise that I'll be back tomorrow and by then I'll have found somewhere for us to go - if you say yes. There is no way I will ever let you down again...do you believe me?" Her head inclined slowly. "Is that a yes, Annie? You going to let me take care of you?"

"Yes." Her voice was so quiet she barely made any sound but her lips clearly framed the word. He almost groaned in relief. Never in his life had he conducted a more sensitive negotiation. He only then realized how much his heart had been pounding all the time. "Good girl. I'm going to go now, sweetheart. You need to rest. I want to talk to the others and explain what we've decided. There are a lot of things I have to arrange.  Will you be all right if I leave you now? You want me to call your nurse?"

Annie just reached for his hands again. "Just hold my hands again for a minute, will you?" Tears jeweled on her eyelashes, her voice high and tinny like a little child's. He took her fingers in his and wrapped his big hands around her slim ones. "I got you. I won't let you fall. As long as you promise to keep hold of me, too. You're not the only lost soul here..."

"...Swimming in a fish bowl...year after year..." she whispered.

"...Pink Floyd...they don't make 'em like that any more..."

 

To Part Ten

*Do You Have A little Time For Me? by Dido can be heard here.

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