Part Fifteen

 

 

"Mr. Thorne? Call from a Mr. Lapenti, he assures me you will take it..." the military liaison handed him a cordless phone when he nodded he would receive the call. He indicated, with a raising of his eyebrows and a tilt of the head, that she should give him some space. The woman had been on his tail all day and was beginning to get on his nerves.

"Mate..."

"Terry...you're a hard man to reach. Been calling your lines all day."

"They took them off me. Been closeted here all day and night. How d'ya trace me?"

Dino laughed. "That's my job. What happened? Can you talk?"

"Nope. You've heard the story. It's on every newsstand. Nothing to add."

He exhaled air slowly. "Nasty business. What was she doing there? Is she behind this mess with you and Annie...?"

"Was, mate...was... She's dead. Rest in peace, hey?"

There was a silence. "You taking it hard, man?"

Terry laughed bitterly. "She wasn't my girlfriend if that's what you think. Tell you about it sometime. You can buy a bottle of good malt and I will cry into my glass. For now the answer is 'No comment.' But I appreciate your concern. I really do."

"What's the plan now? You going back?"

"Nope. They folded within half an hour of the body turning up. Got a great deal signed and sealed. Everybody's happy."

"Washington giving you the run around?"

"Some. Just a debrief but they want all the angles. If they could shaft me they would. She was hot property and they are not pleased. But, they'll let me out soon."

"And then?"

He grunted. "Take some time. Go somewhere. Sleep for a year. Drink to excess. See if I can find a woman who'll offer me a bit of TLC. Christ knows. But I need a break. I'm not good, Dino. I know when I'm not good. Too old for this."

"Where will you go?"

"No idea. One place is much the same as another."

"Listen, Terry...call Annie. She's been onto me. Liam and Zoe, too. They couldn't raise you and they're all concerned."

"Yeah. I'm onto it. Would have called them already but they wouldn't give access until they'd cleared me. I'll do that right away. Appreciate it, mate."

"Anytime. Drop by. You've always got a room here."

"Might do that. You never know. Catch you later, mate..."

He hung up and returned the phone to the young woman who was hovering a way down the corridor. Terry smiled. "Hope you caught all of that in the ear piece. You want me to spell his name for the report?"

The young officer blushed and cleared her throat nervously.

"You doing anything tonight, love?" He asked sardonically and then strode quickly ahead. "I want my cell and laptop back in half an hour and a room at decent hotel. I've just about had enough. You got that?"

 

*

 

Later, after a long soak in a bath and a few slugs of Scotch, he picked up his phone and called London. It was almost midnight there but she would still be awake. She had never been an earlier sleeper, often reading late into the night. The phone was picked up quickly and her tentative voice even just saying "hello?" made him suddenly feel safer.

"It's me, love. I'm sorry I've been a bugger to get hold of..."

"Terry! How are you...we were so worried!"

"I'm good. Back in the States. Job's done. Everything's okay. Don't worry. It was nasty but....well, it's over. Not much more I can say at this time, you know?"

"Sure. Why did they do it to her?" It seemed more of a rhetorical question than one he needed to answer but he answered anyway.

"I don't know why. These things don't always have a reason. They just happen..."

"I hated her. But I wouldn't wish that on a dog...."

"Yeah, I know."

There was a pause and then Annie asked him. "Why was she with you really, Terry? Were you in love with her?"

He sighed heavily into the receiver.

"Terry...I'm over it now. If you were with her, then, I'm really sorry how you must feel. It must be a terrible way to lose someone you care about...not that there's ever a good way..."

"....We were not lovers. I didn't like her. She was merely there as a colleague which is all she ever was to me. I told the truth, Annie. I had sex with her once. It was a very bad mistake. I never made it again."

"Oh. Well, I'm still sorry for it all. You must be sad that she died that way. I take no pleasure in what happened."

"Sad?" He laughed wryly. "I actually feel nothing if the truth were known. Your reaction is a whole lot more generous than mine, sweetheart. I can't think the world is a worse place for her passing. I'm sorry if I don't have your altruism."

"Well, isn't that a rather sad indictment on a man? That you could want a woman's body but care so little about her in the end?" Annie asked. She had never spared his soul when he did not live up to her expectations of him.

"From where you're coming from, yes, I suppose it is. But then you're not a man. And I am. So we'll just have to agree to disagree on that one. It's one plus point about being a single man again. I don't have to listen anymore to lectures from women who think they know better than me." Even as he said it he wondered where the bitter need to provoke her came from. Why couldn't he just be his usual glib self and ride the conversation smoothly?

"I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn. You're quite right. I have no right to make comments about you like that anymore. Terry, Liam's here. He's been here since the news came through. He's been really worried. You know how he gets..."

"Put him on...Annie, look that came out all wrong...!"

"Yeah, I know. It was so good to hear from you and know you're safe. Take care, Terry."

She didn't wait for his reply and the next moment he heard Liam's voice on the line. It was a welcome breath of fresh air to talk to his son but he found it hard to concentrate on the conversation nevertheless. His mind kept wandering to Annie sitting in some tiny cheap little flat. Alone. Why couldn't he have told her how he felt? Why was it so difficult when he was faced with her for the words to come out right? Was there nothing in the world that would get through to her? She said she was 'over it now' but what exactly did she mean by that?

Was it really too late for them both?

 

*

 

She had been back in Boston for twenty four hours and her time clock was totally screwed which explained why she was flat out asleep when Jana knocked on her door and came in to wake her up. It was three in the afternoon.

"Zo? Your Dad's here. He's downstairs. Should I send him up or will you come down?"

She jumped up groggily and pushed her tangled hair from her face, trying to shake the deep sleep from her. Jet lag was a bitch. It didn't help that her heart was broken in two and that the only time she could face life was when she was asleep and it all fell away from her for a time. Not for long though. Her fractured dreams were full of him.

"Dad? Here? Oh, send him up...!" she leapt from the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and wan, her eyes still swollen from the crying that she couldn't stop and her hair limp and knotted. She hurriedly went to brush her teeth and spray some perfume on, but he knocked and entered before she had finished.

"Should I...wait outside?" She realised then that the skimpy T shirt and thongs she was sleeping in were hardly appropriate attire for greeting her father. Spitting and gargling, she thrust her legs into a pair of jeans and zipped up as he stepped in with a smile and looked about for somewhere to sit. The room was a complete tip, cases half unpacked, clothes strewn and barely an inch of floor space free. "Looks like a crime scene. Who died?" He attempted a joke. His eyes scanned the messy room and came to rest on the rumpled bed. He tried to shake the visual image of Costello sleeping there curled up around his daughter. Then he caught sight of the tattered worn old Teddy on her pillow that she had had since she was a baby. She had always clung to it when she slept, often sobbing herself to sleep over something with her thumb in her mouth. He reckoned she had probably done much the same the night before. She'd always be a baby to him.

Zoe brushed her hair off her face and stood looking at him. She hardly knew where to begin now that he was here. For the first time in her life she felt nervous and diffident in his presence and held back where her instinct was to throw herself on him and just feel the safety of his arms around her.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Liam. He said you'd spoke to him about...Deborah...and mentioned you were leaving for Boston. I hear you and...Costello have had a parting of the ways...I thought you might need a shoulder..."

She smiled at him. "You're the one who needs a shoulder at the moment. Not me. How are you? I was so sorry to hear about...."

That was all it took. Zoe dashed towards him and he grabbed her as she buried her face into his chest and began to cry. She hadn't meant for it to happen but somehow it was impossible in his presence not to be affected. He let her cry and just rocked her back and forth, just as he had done when she had been a little girl, murmuring soothingly into her ear and kissing her forehead. "It's okay...let it all out. You'll feel better..."

He eased her back towards the bed and sat down on it, pulling her onto his lap and they stayed there for some time, neither speaking, just holding on tight.

"He killed her, Daddy." Zoe suddenly sat up and spoke.

"I know."

"How?" She seemed surprised that he had worked it out.

Terry took a deep breath and brushed back her hair, stroking her tear-stained cheeks. "It was a set up. There were a few possible reasons. But the MO was classic Costello. If you're sure it isn't him - that's when it is.  Love him or hate him, princess, he's the very best there is. Is that why you left him?"

She nodded. "He killed her. In cold blood. For nothing."

"Well, I doubt it was for nothing. He had his reasons. You just don't happen to agree with him, love. Fair enough. But there are those who won't be losing sleep over that lady's death..." He fixed her a look.

"Who?"

"Me for one. Liam's not too worried either. I doubt your mother will be crying at the funeral either..."

"Mum was upset. She might not have liked her but she felt bad for her. She'd feel worse if she knew who'd really done it..."

"You didn't tell her?" Terry asked, surprised.

Zoe shook her head. "No. I just didn't want her to feel she was in anyway to blame. She's low enough as it is."

Terry frowned and bit on his lip. Any mention of his wife hurt too much and sent him spinning away into some recollection that he really didn't wish to have. But part of him seemed to feed on chance references to her even as he tried to push them away. She might be 'over all that now' but he certainly wasn't.

"Your mother is generous enough in her spirit to feel pity for Deborah Stavin but she wouldn't quite react to the news of who had pulled the trigger quite as you did. She's lived long enough on the fringes of a rather murky world to understand the consequences of actions even if she doesn't subscribe to the underlying philosophy..."

"You mean she's learnt to put up with it? To accept what men like Nick do?"

Terry smiled sardonically and raised his eyebrows. "Something like that. Or maybe she's just learnt enough to know that issues are never black and white and easy sound bites are pretty trite and empty when you really inhabit the world as it is. I want you to hold onto your innocence as long as you can, princess, but you gotta understand this. There are many ways of looking at things and all of them are right within their compass. But just because you see a simple answer to all the world's ills doesn't mean it's going to happen. And it doesn't mean that all of us haven't already thought of it long ago. We've just had to adjust our boundaries as we tried to get along..."

Zoe considered his words. "Do you think I'm wrong to leave Nick over this?"

Terry grinned warmly and played with a lock of her hair absently. "I think you're right to leave Nick. You know I do. But I have no idea what actually made you take that decision. But if he was giving you options that you couldn't handle then that's the time to go."

"I left him because I found out he had killed Deborah. But that was the only the last straw. You see....there had been so many other things that I knew were wrong but I had kept pushing them away and trying to convince myself that he was different now and that it would be alright. But in the end, he just proved that he was never going to really change. He sees life through a distorted lens and always will. He scares me. He's obsessional and controlling. He wanted me to do things that would destroy my life. What he did to Deborah was just too much for me even to pretend that I could accept...."

"What things?" Terry had stiffened as he had listened to her explanation. "Did he try to get you involved with that sick perverted lifestyle of his...what did he make you do?"

She realized that her father had misunderstood and she was in danger of creating a very dangerous reaction in him. It occurred to her then that maybe her father was closer in his real responses to Nick than she had ever guessed. "No...no, the very opposite. Nick would never even dream of exposing me to that twilight world he had inhabited. Nick was...very good to me, Dad. I know you didn't like us together but he treated me like a queen. The best of everything. He loves me. Adores me. And I know my leaving has broken his heart - for which I am not proud. But I had to go. Before we did something that would tear our lives apart one day. And the lives of others. I am too young for him. I am not ready to be any man's wife or any child's mother. That's all he wanted from me. Not such a bad guy after all, hey? He wanted us to get married and have babies. Hardly the stuff of sick fantasy?"

She sniffed back tears and he began to understand just how much walking out on Nick had cost her. The kid did love him. But of the two she had seen through the imbalance so much clearer than he had. Terry felt proud of his child. How many women could have walked away from what he had been offering?

"Hey, don't cry! You did the right thing. Most girls of your age....maybe any age...would have had their heads turned by the lifestyle and the simple force of his personality. I'm not blind. I know what a man like that looks like to a woman. Every woman wants him. Even when he abuses them, they still want him. Some guys are just like that and they cause a lot of damage. I'm proud of you that you saw in time that you were not ready. And you are right. It would have ended in disaster, with the lives of innocent children caught in the crossfire a few years down the line."

He held her close and she cuddled against his shoulder. "I still love him, Daddy. I still love him. Will I ever stop?"

What could he answer? Some loves you never recover from. He just hoped that Nick Costello had not been 'The One' for her. Or she would carry that cross all her life. "In time. Everything passes in time. Remember this...you might have done something good for him too. Who knows what he'll learn from this and how it will affect him in the future? At least now he knows what he's looking for even if he has to accept he hasn't found it yet. Don't beat yourself up. You must do what is right for you in a situation like this."

"I'm scared, Dad. I'm scared what he might do next."

"Scared? You think he might hurt you?" His senses were on high alert now. It was possible Nick could be capable of wreaking a terrible havoc if thwarted. Who knew where an unstable man like him might go if he was angry enough? Was his daughter in any danger from him?

"I don't know. I doubt it. I suppose he might. But I was more worried of what he might do to himself. He has nothing now. When we fell in love it was like he realized what an empty shell his life had been. I'm not sure he'll feel he's anything to live for now. He's not like other people, Dad. He's so unpredictable. You just never know what idea will take him. And he's brave enough to put a gun to his own head as easily as to another person's..."

"Yeah...I know." She was dead on. All those years ago in Chile, Nick had demonstrated very disturbing suicidal tendencies at times and he remembered many nights sitting up with him and trying to talk him through his despair. Losing a hand had seemed to Nick Costello as though any meaningful life he had had was over - how much more would losing the only woman he had ever loved mean to him? Terry knew even he himself had felt down enough once or twice in his life to have been there and he was nowhere near as given to self pity as Nick.

"Dad...will you look after him. For me? Please...see if he's coping? I know you're angry with him for what happened but I'm as much to blame as he is. We just fell in love. It was the best time of my life. He was just the most wonderful man I have ever met...truly he was...he made me feel so fine...Can you understand what I mean? It's impossible to stop yourself when you feel like that..."

Irony has many faces, Terry thought to himself. He hardly needed a young girl to tell him of the hopelessness of love and the pain of loss. Yet this was not just about protecting Costello from himself. There was just as much risk that Costello might turn his rage outwards - as he had done with Stavin in a sense. His priority was ensuring that his daughter was never to become the target for Costello's warped logic.

"Don't worry. I'll go see him. Talk it through. Just let me know if he bothers you any? Promise me you'll get onto me even if he just calls you or mails you and it worries you. You are not alone in this. Baby..." And he took her little face in his hands and looked her straight in the eye. "...You have proved you are a grown woman. I will never interfere in your life again - any man you wish to be with, is your choice, whether it be for life, just an affair or even a one night stand. I know you can make those decisions for yourself. Same goes for your career. I trust your judgement and I am sorry I did not have enough faith in your maturity before. It's hard for any man to let go of the child he loves. Especially a man like me whose whole life has been about going in and taking over in a crisis. I'm arrogant, I know that. I always think I knew what's best for people. It's always going to be hard for me to stand back and let you and Liam walk alone. In some ways I never will be able to. But, I'll try and I will always be here for you both whenever you need me. Whatever you do. Even if it's wrong. I'll still be here for you."

"Daddy! I don't deserve you. Neither of us do! We couldn't even accept one single time when you disagreed with us without throwing a tantrum and walking out."

He laughed. "You're kids. I did the same with my own Mum and Dad. Never went back really. Regretted it all my life. Damned if I am letting anything or anybody get between me and those I love. Nothing....nothing...matters more than keeping it together with your family."

"Isn't it about time you sorted things out with Mum then?" Zoe rounded on him; she was just as capable of sticking a knife between his ribs as her mother was.

"Jesus, you are so like your mother..." he smiled softly and ran a finger down her perfect face. "I'm gonna try. But, it is not going to be easy. Even on the phone we find civility difficulty these days."

"Must be love then..." She teased. He tickled her until she giggled.

"Dad....you saw a video of me and Nick..."

He winced. "Yeah, well...we don't need to talk about that. It was just the way they play it. Nick's resignation scared them. They thought he'd gone rogue. He was always close. Nick became the most highly paid and effective assassin in the west. He was unaligned but worked for a strictly US-and-its-pals set. But a lot of leeway has been given to him over the years. It was common knowledge that on the side he worked for organised crime. That's where he made the real big bucks. Upwards of $250,000 for a morning's work -often a lot more It was a little worrying for the authorities - but kept him sweet. No one was too bothered if he took out a gang boss, drug dealer, crazy rap star, some millionaire's business rival...it wasn't like the world was any worse off, ya know? But when he resigned then alarm bells sounded..."

"So they wanted you to get close enough to find out what was really going on and used the video to do it?"

He shook his head. "Nick must have been crazy to do it there in the same building. They had that film within seconds and the set up was ready..."

"I'm so sorry...that was so sordid..."

But her father only grinned. "Hey we've all done it, baby, at one time or another. Lost our cool when faced with a beautiful willing woman. You two didn't invent up against a wall, you know?"

"Dad! Do not even go there! I so do not need that mental image of you and Mum..."

He giggled and she hugged him tight. "You still shouldn't have had to see it."

"No. But I did. And I didn't kill Nick Costello. Whatever he had done, even I knew it was love that was driving him, not money or anything else this time. Can't blame a bloke for that at the end of the day..."

"You've sidestepped the issue of Mum neatly..." She doggedly returned to that subject.

"I have told you I will try," he answered tersely.

"Liam and I will do everything to talk her round."

"You two...keep out! With the greatest respect this is between me and Annie and if you don't like your Dad sticking his nose in your love life then it works both ways. You got that?"

Zoe nodded and swung her legs like a playful child giving him her gaga look. They both laughed.

"Okay, princess..." He stood up and rested her down gently. "You get some rest, clear up this pit of a room which greatly offends my soldier's sense of order....you really are the image of your mother....and get smartened up. Try dragging a brush through that mop of yours for starters...and I'll pick you up at seven...been quite a while since you and I went on a date...."

 

*

 

He decided to fly to Sydney first as initial checks made it appear that Costello was still in the country. That could be way off, he knew, as a man of his covert nature could, if he wished, disappear into any of his many identities. But somehow Terry felt the need to touch base himself. Return to the old country, look up a few rellies and find a little peace.

It occurred to him, as he wandered along the promenade from Circular Quay towards the Opera House and stopped at one of the elegant new bars for a drink, that his life had finally come full circle. A notion to move back here struck him. Maybe. If he didn't fix things with Annie. The thought of driving the length and breadth of Australia, living wild and then maybe finding a little wilderness of his own in which to settle appealed to him. In the end, that's what everyone does. You start off young and hungry and your horizon at home seems too small. Then one day the pull of that same place brings you back and it's taken you all of your life to find out that this was what you really were all along.

But it had been quite a journey, a wild ride that he wouldn't have changed for anything. Who would ever have imagined that the boy from Parramatta would live the life he had when he'd been a bit of a kid running around with dreams of being something?

Sipping thoughtfully on a glass of beer, served elegantly in a slender glass with a fancy napkin, but still VB, he breathed in the harbour air. It had been a hot day but the usual fresh breeze was blowing in now night had come and he still felt a little chilly in his light jacket. It never ceased to amaze him how even used to Europe, Sydney could still seem raw and cold after night fall.

His reverie was interrupted by a cheery greeting. "Tez...sorry I'm a bit late. Traffic...."

"Hey, Mick...great to see you...!" Terry stood up and shook his elder brother's hand warmly. It was quite a while since they had been together. "What happened to your hair?"

"If there's any justice yours will drop out one of these days..." he replied with a grin.

"No chance, I was always the good looking one...." Terry grinned and Mick ruffled up his thick hair much as he had done years ago when Mick had been a young man and he a little boy. His brother was an old man now but he still didn't seem it in Terry's eyes.  Vision is a very subjective sense after a certain age.

"You're looking good, mate. How do you do it?"

"Well I get off my arse occasionally and work out... try leaving the TV remote for a change..."

Mick laughed. "Most exercise I get is lifting beer pots...Jesus, do I have to drink out of girly glasses like that?" he complained as Terry called for another round.

"You got hold of the others?"

"As many as I could. Booked a table in one of those fancy bastard restaurants you like so much. You can pay the fancy bastard bill then..."

Terry giggled at the comment. Christ, it was good to hear the irreverent mockery again. He feared he had learnt to take himself too seriously all the years away, although Annie usually stopped that when it was threatening. He cut off that thought straight away and turned his game face on his brother while they talked about the family and the reams of grandchildren, many of who he had never heard about.

"Annie not with you? We were looking forward to seeing her," Mick mentioned at one point.

"Er, no. She's in London. I'm on business here." He decided it was simpler to say nothing about his separation.

"Saw you on the TV. What the fuck was that all about?"

Terry shrugged and leaned back in his seat, lighting up. "Confidential, mate, you know how it is?"

Mick scoffed. "Yeah? Well you ought to stop all this Action man crap. Think of Annie and the kiddies for a change. Bet she was delighted. How are the little ones, anyway?"

"Big. Zoe's at Harvard doing a Masters and Liam's a rock star or something like that..."

"Really? I still see them as little spunks running about..." They both laughed and Terry showed him some photographs taken back in New York when they had last been together. Mick was stunned and just shook his head. "You must be so proud of them!"

"I am. And Henry's gonna be a Dad any day now..."

"And you're gonna be a Grandad! Sweet revenge, hey? They said he'd never see forty...thought some irate Dad would have blasted your balls before then if some sniper didn't get you...."

Terry grinned. "I'm the irate Dad these days. Driving off unsuitable men from my daughter."

"Who could blame any bloke? She's a looker like her Mum. Thank God neither of them took after you, ya ugly bastard..."

"The ladies never seemed to think so..." Terry chuckled into his beer glass. "Okay, let's go and eat....Where's this dinner you lot are planning to sting me for....?"

 

The next day, still feeling remarkably light after a warm and laughter-filled evening with members of his family, Terry got down to business. His first visit was Darling Harbour to the new offices of Siphos; the discreet plaque at the door, silver grey  letters on  milky white Perspex were accompanied by a sword held in a right hand. Terry momentarily thought about asking Annie what was Greek for sword and then remembered he couldn't.

Pushing open the door, he went up to the attractive girl at reception and gave her one of his polite smiles. "I'm here to see Mr. Costello, love..."

The girl answered with a dead pan face, obviously not falling for the charm angle. "He's not here at the moment, can I take a message?"

"Is he out and about or away on business?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir. If you leave me your name and contact number I'll have him call you when he's back in the office. Or would one of the managers do? What is this regarding?"

Terry wondered if it was worth making an issue of this. Young Sheila here was guarding her boss and he doubted he would wear her down without raising his profile too much and he didn't wish for that.

"You couldn't give me his home number...?"

"Sorry, sir. That would be against company policy. Your name?" Well, at least he'd trained his staff well. No weak link at the front desk.

"I'll call in again next time I'm in town. Thanks for your obduracy, Miss..." he smiled wryly and walked back towards the door.

"No worries, pleased to be of service. Anytime," came her monotone reply.  He repressed a grin when he realized his sarcasm had completely passed her by.

Next stop was the rented beach house where Nick and Zoe had been living; Liam had supplied the address. The place was closed up and there was a sign offering it for rent. He called the number and asked for a viewing. He said he was in a hurry and managed to get a realtor out within the hour. An expensive rental like this was bound to get their juices flowing.

He was shown around and listened to the bland and effusive sell while actually doing his own examination. He imagined the two of them playing house here in this beautiful property. It surprised him just how sad he felt for them both now that the dream had shattered.

"So how long has it been unoccupied? It looks in good nick..."

"Very recent, sir. We just had it cleaned although they were good tenants. They left suddenly...the lease should have run for three more months..."

So the owner would make a nice little bit extra if this was rented out again so quickly. He played on her eagerness to wrap the deal up. "Why did they go so quickly?"

She smiled but looked flustered. "Nothing wrong with the house, sir. I think the young couple split up. She wasn't around when we came to hand over. Just the bloke and his dog. He seemed to want to just get shut of it all, didn't even try to get any of his advance back. He seemed upset, distracted. Nice guy. Good looking..."she blushed and he realized she'd been another one to fall under Costello's spell. Nothing like a handsome guy with a sad love life to hit a woman where it hurts.

There was nothing much this place could tell him. Costello was long gone. The trail was cold here. Back out on the road outside, he waved off the woman with a promise to call her as soon as he had checked out a few more options and then he returned to his hire car.

This was as far as he could go without using a bit of influence; he was going to have to pull a few strings here. Stopping at a café, he bought a latte and settled himself in a shady corner outside calling up a number on his cell.

"Will?"

"Speaking?"

"Long time, no see, ya bastard..."

"Terry? That you, mate? Christ, what brings you out of the woodwork? Middle East not hot enough for you?" Colonel Will Anders slumped back on his chair and smiled broadly.

"You're too good. That was my telephone voice as well. All British vowels and polite approach..." Terry laughed. "How you doing, mate?"

"Sound as a pound. Easier life than you by the look of it..."

"Yeah, well, looks can be deceptive, mate....how's the family?"

"Great. Christy, my wife, is pregnant again....hoping for a boy this time. Erin's six and Adrienne's three....my other girl, Tara's eighteen...imagine that, hey?"

"Yeah, kids have a habit of doing that. Growing up on you. You just enjoy those little ones now while you can, mate. It doesn't come again..."

"Too right - learnt my lesson this time. As much as I love to chew the fat with you, mate, I suspect you've an ulterior motive for this little out of the blue call. What is it, Terry?"

"I need some information on an old friend of ours. Nick Costello."

Terry could tell the change of atmosphere even over a phone line.

"Scary bloke these days, our old mate, Nick. You sure you want to mix with him again?" Anders muttered.

Terry grunted in agreement. "Wouldn't if I didn't have to. It's rather complicated but personal in the main. I want to find him. You know he's been back?"

"Yeah. That fucker had everyone nervous. I've been sifting through reports for weeks now about his movements. Looks kosher to me so far...you know something I don't?"

"You first. What's your assessment?"

Anders cleared his throat and Terry thought he was probably accessing some report. "He's got this security firm Siphos up and running. Looks legit. He's been beavering away getting big contracts and keeping his nose clean. Shacked up with some Sheila in a house on the coast. You should see this girl...Christ, he could always pull them, you know?"

"Yeah, mate. That all?"

"More or less. What you got to add?"

"Not much. Just that the Sheila's my daughter..."

"Fuck me! Terry, I'm sorry....Jesus Christ, I should have clocked that....Zoe Thorne...her name's here..." he paused obviously following the link...."Christ...even got your name here. Haven't been reading carefully. Sorry, mate....Costello and your daughter...too right this is personal..."

"I need help finding him."

"You're not planning on tackling him, are you? Mate, this guy was dangerous way back when. Now he's a lethal killer. Terry, softly, softly, hey?"

"Don't worry. I just want to talk to him. They're not together anymore anyway. Will, I would really appreciate this..."

"You just don't do anything foolish, mate. But sure, anything I can do....what do you need?"

"He might have left the country. That could mean any identity, any nationality. Can you do a trace on his movements in the past few weeks? This could mean a very wide field. God knows what name he'll have been using....failing that....a lead on where he is now within Australia..."

"You got it. Might take a while. That's a hell of a wide immigration search at this time of year."

"I'll be at my hotel. Cheers, mate...next time I'm here, we'll get together for a beer. Ever hear from Hewitt?"

"Not for years. Last thing he was with a telecommunications company in China. Bit of a whiz kid as we know. Went into product development. Made a fucking fortune."

"Good luck to him. Take care, Will. Regards to the family."

 

*

 

"Zoe? Wait! I heard you were back!" Zoe turned as she was walking across the campus near her building and saw Brook Preston jogging across to her.

She stopped and smiled. "Hi there! Yeah, since last week...how you're doing?"

"Great. All the better for seeing you. I heard..."he paused and looked down. "...I heard things didn't work out for you and that guy. I'm sorry. You must be down."

Zoe waved her hand. "I'd rather not go there, Brook, if you don't mind. I'm okay. Getting there...."

"I'm sorry...I shouldn't have mentioned it. I just wanted to say...if you need a friend, well...I'm a friend. Just friends. I know how it is at a time like this. If you need to get out of the house, see a movie, have dinner, just get a break...I'd be delighted to be your escort. I'm not trying to move in or anything..." He looked pained, well aware that this was not turning out as smoothly as he had meant it to be.

She smiled brightly. "That's very kind of you, Brook. Everyone's walking round me on eggshells these days. I'd love a night out without having to think of work or my personal life actually. I appreciate the offer."

"Tomorrow night?" he burst out and then blushed. "I'm free tomorrow night....if you are....Friday would be good... say around seven? We could get some supper later..."

"Okay," she agreed. "Tomorrow it is then, Brook. I have to run. Got a meeting with my prof...I'll see you then, hey?"

And she was off, running down the path on this brisk cold early December day. It would soon be the Christmas break and Brook wanted to get somewhere with her before they all went home for the holidays. It had all panned out just as he'd imagined. The rat Costello had screwed up and she had left him - and he was here to provide the lovely Zoe with the tender compassion she needed at such a time. He didn't mind the rebound. Getting her in the sack would be well worth the rating of second choice.

 

It was a very pleasant evening, friendly and easy, the sort of date Zoe hadn't had for so long, just an uncomplicated guy who was good to look at, sexy in a boyish way and obviously keen on her. She felt in control, the one calling the shots. Brook wanted to take it further, she knew that, but it was totally up to her whether he made a move or not.

They enjoyed the movie, indulged in a lively discussion over a simple pizza and bottle of wine and then he took her home. Zoe knew she could say goodnight here and it would be perfectly acceptable. Brook would call her tomorrow and they would date regularly if she wished until the end of term. Nothing heavy, just a guy to be with to keep the rest at bay.

She wasn't quite sure if it was using a man to just go around with him for the sake of company especially as she was fully aware he was carrying a torch for her and had been for a while. But they were friends, enjoyed each other's conversation and she found him an attractive and witty date. It doesn't have to be the grand passion every time you see a bloke anyway. From now on she intended to keep things light and easy with men, have a bit of fun and enjoy their company. Brook was perfect for that. So she shrugged away any reservations and decided to let this one run its course.

Back at her apartment block, they sat talking in the car for awhile, the engine running. It was a very cold night and she was still finding the change of temperature difficult coming from an Australian summer to a North American winter. Brook suggested she needed to get inside into the warmth as she shivered; he jumped out and ran round to open the door, taking her hand courteously and helping her out of the car. They walked together up the pathway and stopped on the doorstep. It was one of those awkward moments when neither quite knew what to do or say next.

"I'll say goodnight then, Zoe."

She smiled and reached up, kissing him softly on the lips. "Good night, Brook. I had a lovely time."

He looked a little surprised by her kiss and then ran his hand round her waist pulling her closer to him; he bent down and returned the kiss, this time more purposefully, searching for her mouth and flickering at her parted lips with his tongue.

It felt good to Zoe to make out in this way, exploring with a new guy, getting to know him a little more intimately than the amicable relationship they had had so far. He was a good kisser. Zoe idly wondered what he would be like in bed.

Brook broke off and backed away, looking a little shy as if he might have gone too far or shown too much of himself. "I'm sorry...I just ...well, I just wanted to kiss you so badly. Have done all night to be truthful..."

"You didn't. Kiss badly, I mean," Zoe teased. "It was pretty good from where I was standing...for a first kiss..." she grinned and she saw him relax and grin back.

"I'm not usually such a dork with women. But you make my head spin..." he muttered sheepishly before half turning as if to leave. "I better go before I make more of a fool of myself. And you're cold. Get inside and warm up. I'll call you tomorrow huh?"

Zoe reached out and caught his arm. "I'd be warmer with you...you want to come up? No promises, Brook, but I think I need a man to hold onto tonight. Is that wrong of me to ask it of you?"

He shook his head and smiled, a light in his eye that seemed both triumphant and yet boyishly eager. "No, ma'am. I would be honoured to provide that body tonight..."

She held out her hand and he took it as she tugged him inside and closed the door. In the hallway he pulled her in for a deeper kiss and the temperature between the two of them began to rise from the warmth of the evening to something hotter and more dangerous.

Upstairs, she led him into her bedroom, now substantially neater than when her father had been there a few days earlier. She momentarily wondered whether he would approve of Brook. He probably would. He was decent guy, heading for a good career, handsome and engaging. She felt a little shy all of a sudden as a girl always does when a man enters her room for the first time, bringing with him that male aura so at odds with the feminine clutter. He picked up her Teddy and grinned.

"Not man enough for her, Ted?" He murmured and Zoe threw him a coquettish look over her shoulder as she went to draw the curtains. Brook followed her and put his hands on her hips, drawing her close as they looked out on the wintry night.

"Christ, Zoe, I want you so much. I swear I'll make it good for you....I swear to God..."

 

Down below, leaning against a wall at the top of an alley way leading to the back of the house opposite, Nick observed unseen, oblivious to the cold. He closed his eyes as he saw the couple framed by lamplight against the window of the room he knew to be hers. Swallowing hard he sank to his haunches and buried his face in his hands. All evening he had had them under surveillance and had felt sure she would not go through with it. How could she? Had she never loved him at all really? Had it just been some girlish infatuation which he had fed with his expensive gifts and first class lifestyle? The bitter irony of it was not lost on him at all. How many women had he cheated on, tossed aside, taken advantage of, ruined in his time? Now he knew what it felt like to be yesterday's newspaper left blowing mournfully down a cold street on a winter's night, shut out from the warmth within.

He couldn't bear the pain of knowing what she was doing with another man right now. He couldn't bear the pain of never holding her or loving her again. He just couldn't bear the pain of all the days of his life stretching out ahead of him knowing that the only person in this world who could have made it right for him had forgotten all about him just a few short weeks after they had parted. He knew it at that moment, stark and clear. He had lost her. He would never be with her again.

Wiping his eyes, he raised his jaw and a steely calm settled over his expressive eyes. His options were running out but he knew what he had to do now. There was only one course of action left to him.

 

*

 

The information was back rather faster than Terry had anticipated; Will had called him with what he had by later that afternoon. The upshot of it all was that Nick had left Sydney a week before on a flight to London traveling on a Greek passport under the name of Nicholas Efkeliotides, which, as it was his mother's maiden name, was hardly a real attempt to hide himself. He did not appear to make regular use of this identity but always for flights to London from various locations. Will said a few of the previous trips seemed to tie in with periods when he had been on leave after major assignments, suggesting this was what he preferred to be known as when he dropped out of sight for a break. Perhaps he had somewhere in the British Isles that he hung out?

"Maybe he flies on to Greece? He speaks the language fluently and might very well have a place there. If it's owned by his family then it might not appear to have an obvious connection with him..."

"No. The flights are to and from London and then onwards to destinations known to us like New York or Sydney. It's not a great deal of use, and your journey here's been a bit of a waste of time, but I think you need to narrow down your search to UK. Or he drops to another identity there. Trail's gone cold, mate. But he did make a house purchase recently in Sydney. Primo address on Neutral Bay. Cost him a bloody fortune as well...he is loaded for sure...but he hasn't moved in yet, so that's not going to lead you anywhere. He's definitely out of the country....not much more I can tell you for now...should I keep digging?"

"No...you've done a great job, mate. I can use this. It's more than I knew before. Thanks, Will....owe you a beer...next time I'm down this side?"

 

He took a night flight to London, grateful for the reclining beds of first class so that he could get his head down and sleep the first leg. But the onward flight kept him mostly wakeful and he had plenty of time to think if h himself could pin down Costello's whereabouts from things he had said to him over the years. Did he have a place to hole up in somewhere? Sense told him he most likely did - his home in New York had been very visible and bought in his own name. Men in Costello's game had to have somewhere to go to ground for a number of reasons and safety was one of them. There had to have been times when he had got on the wrong side of something and had had his own neck on the line.

This matter occupied his thoughts for a long time. UK seemed an odd choice for Nick who had no apparent reason or connection to be there. Greece or Italy would have been more obvious if he had wanted Europe although frankly if you really wanted to drop out of sight then Australia was wilderness enough for that and far better than Europe as a place of concealment. But then who knows whether that was why he did it? Choose the least likely place. That made its own kind of sense.

But where? What part of the British Isles would he have used as a refuge? There were plenty of remote places - or had he preferred to hide in a city where the very anonymity would have masked him? Hard to tell - there were pros and cons in either. Terry wrestled with the problem for some time and then decided to give it a rest, switching off the light and attempting to get some sleep. Just as he was dozing off, he remembered something with a jolt that made him sit bolt upright so fast that he knocked the remains of a drink into the aisle and a stewardess had to run forward to clean up the mess.

He had recalled a conversation that he'd had with Nick back in Chile. They had spent many nights sitting up drinking until dawn, both needing the catharsis. Even he had to talk with a man who knew the score to really unburden his soul of the events of that last mission and others going way back when. There was always so much he could never explain even to Annie. In his turn, Nick had revealed the claustrophobic nightmare that his months undercover had been. Lesser men would have broken under the unbearable pressure and danger he had lived in every moment of every day.

But one night they had talked of the future. Where would they go? What would they do? Neither man had had a plan, unusual itself for men of their nature. Terry just had a family and as long as they were together, he hadn't given the details much thought as yet. Somewhere they could be left alone. Somewhere where there were decent schools. Somewhere the kids could be free to have a safe life. Still deep in an almost bohemian idyll, long haired, bearded, tattooed, Terry had almost dropped out from conventional life at that period. He had thought the change had been permanent but he had emerged from it a whole man again and returned to the strictures of the rat race he thought he had left forever. But he had never quite been his old self again.

Nick had shown some tendencies of giving up too. There had been the suicidal mutterings and then a hint that he wanted just to hide himself away somewhere and go to ground.

 

"You ever been to Scotland? The Highlands?" He had suddenly said one night.

"Yeah. SAS do all their survival stuff up there. Bloody cold," Terry had replied. He had never much like cold weather manoeuvres.

"Yeah us, too. Aussie SAS worked with your guys on crap like that up there. I like cold. It makes you feel," Nick had answered obliquely.

"Cold makes you numb. Stops you feeling," Terry had disagreed.

Nick had looked out to sea thoughtfully. "Yeah, Numb. Maybe that's what I meant..."

 

He had put it down to the drink talking and not given it much thought at the time. But had Nick had some draw that was pulling him back to a place in Scotland? Had there been other times when he had found some peace in the cold rugged beauty of that northern land? Was that where he was now?

The Highlands? About as far north as you can get in the British Isles: wild, craggy and beautiful, witch tit cold even in the summer, hard living even for the toughest of locals. It wasn't easy to see party boy Nick in such a setting - not that he would have had a problem with the rawness of the climate. Nick could cope with anything. But what would be the attraction? Hard to fathom, although this was Nick Costello. Wasn't he just the ultimate enigma?

Terry cast his mind back to the first time the dossier on the young Capt. Costello had fallen onto his desk in Canberra when he had been selecting the men he would be training up for the SE Asian party. The record had showed a man with few visible flaws in military terms except for a few rather glaring facts: psych tests had assessed him as a borderline sociopath with a limited capacity for empathy. His loyalty was not guaranteed if he found weaknesses in leadership and he was a loner with little apparent ability to bond with his peers. Costello would exploit perceived vulnerability and undermine command if he thought it would better his position. His courage was not in question but he would not follow orders blindly, constantly questioning and taking his own path.

Now, these were pretty damning personality traits for a soldier in the mainstream but perversely had added to his appeal to Special Forces who saw specific uses for men of this ilk. From this small pot of lunatics came the real super-soldiers, those who could operate alone, would never have the sheep tendencies of much of the army, hiding behind higher command and concentrating on keeping their heads down, could function without supervision, deal with shifting boundaries and would never put altruism before their own survival. All key elements in black ops. Costello's singular rating had propelled him to the top of Terry's wish list for the operation. He had known the dangers but this was the kind of fucker who could realistically do the job and take the pressure.

So he himself had played his part in the creation of the demon, continuing to warp Nick's character and turn him into the soulless weapon he had become. Everyone always pays. He was paying now. But he was damned if his family was going to be further harmed by his mistakes.

Where ever Costello was now, he would root him out and then he would make his final assessment of him, even if it was twelve years too late. All weapons become obsolete in time and the decommissioning of them was always a worry. It had to be handled carefully.

 

Back in the familiar stomping ground of London, Terry felt both a mixture of nostalgia and security. This had in many ways become his city, his home over the years. He had friends here, was known in bars and restaurants, felt like a regular person with a real life when he walked its streets. But the pinch of regret was strong as his cab took him through the heavy traffic to his hotel. Knightsbridge. His former home was just a few roads off the main high street. It had fetched quite a price for Annie. He'd been glad she had that safety net beneath her.

Ensconced in the impersonal luxury of the Dorchester, he made a few calls. Liam first.  His son was delighted to hear from him, asked him to come stay in his apartment and then invited him to join him that night at the opening of a new nightclub.

"Rain check, mate. That flight busted my balls. Need to get my head down. I'm not sure a club would be quite my scene even in rude health never mind feeling like this. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Er...gotta go somewhere for a few days," Liam replied evasively. Terry knew he was hiding something. Probably a weekend away with some girl.

"Makes sure she wears you out. Get your money's worth, boy..." Terry retorted and Liam laughed but did not offer any more information.

"I'll call you when I get back. You staying long, Dad?"

"I'll be here off and on for a while, I reckon. Might take you up on the offer of a bed later on. The rack rate at this place is bloody disgraceful... Have a good weekend....Catch you later...and Liam, take care. I miss you, ya know?"

Following that pleasant interlude, he turned his mind to the business at hand. In a series of short calls to various contacts in agencies and military intelligence he put the feelers out about Costello's whereabouts. No one asked him his reason and he gave them no explanations.

Information came in by the next afternoon. This time he had been much less easy to trace. Using a network of fake identities and dummy companies, his disappearance was almost undetectable. But a series of lucky connections and the narrowing down of the search field threw up the name Nicholas Macken who had bought an isolated cottage a few miles outside of Portmahonack on the edge of Dornoch Firth on the North East coast of Scotland.  He was an Australian who also owned a small licensed fishing boat which he took out sporadically. Of all the permutations of Costello's known identities or versions of names he was likely to use, this seemed the least obscure but in itself harmless enough. A quick investigation revealed this man had flown into Inverness a few days earlier after picking up the connection in Glasgow.

Tracing back the Glasgow arrivals that day, no such name had been on any of the inbound flights. But there had been a Nicholas Efkeliotides arriving from Boston. The location made Terry's blood run cold. Why had he been in Boston? Zoe was fine. He had talked to her before he left Sydney and a further quick call revealed everything was quiet her end. She didn't appear to have had any encounters with Costello. Even if she might not have told him, he would have read it in her voice if she was scared of anything.

What was he up to? Time to find out.

He followed the trail, flight to Inverness, hired a car and drove to the area where Macken was purported to be based. It was a quaint little sea harbour, wickedly cold and exposed on this December day, but the sky was blue and the air pure. It was hard not to take great lungfuls of it and feel the peace of the place rolling over you. Was Costello a man who understood such simple things?

A pint at the Castle Hotel near the harbour and a hearty pub lunch and Terry was soon chatting away to the buxom young barmaid, entranced by her soft Highland lilt and rather taken with her fresh faced charm. He let the conversation tick along, interrupted now and again by the landlady and her husband and a few regulars although most of the customers were of that laconic Scottish nature; they preferred to watch and listen and keep their assessment of this tourist to themselves.

Morag, however, was grateful for interesting strangers and her desire to please was infectious - and loquacious. "You're the second Australian in these parts. There's another man comes in from time to time. Nick. Everyone calls him Nick the Greek. Although he's Australian. But he's got a strange name that no one can pronounce. It's Greek. He keeps himself to himself. Goes out a lot on his boat sea fishing. Knows what he's doing, so they say. Well, for a foreigner, you know? Would you be knowing him? You being from Australia as well?"

Terry smiled. "It's a big country, love. Not a lot of people, I'll grant you, but we don't always know everyone. Difficult to meet up. All that desert, ya know?" She pulled him another pint.

"I suppose so. Not like round here. Everyone knows everyone. You can't eat a peeled egg without them all knowing..." she giggled.

"I'd imagine not," Terry replied with a warm grin of his own. "This Nick...what's he look like? I might have met him. You never know..."

Morag blushed. "He's very bonny. In a dark swarthy way. Like a Spanish pirate. All the girls make eyes at him but he isn't one for all that. I think he's a bit shy. Although he has a lovely smile..."

She wouldn't make much of a reader of character but the description was spot on. This had to be Nick. And it appeared he genuinely went to ground here, even keeping away from the locals. No girls, hey? This was definitely where the guy went to chill out. Celibacy even appeared to be one of the attractions to him of this place. This was real R and R.

Making his farewells and promising to call back next time he was passing, Terry drove up out of the little village and to the address he had for Macken. He went past the turning and parked his car a half a mile further along the route in a small lay by. Zipping up his thermal fleece and waterproof coat and pulling on a black wool hat and gloves, he shivered against the biting wind and began trudging back in the direction he had come. The blue sky of earlier was now grey and stormy and the sea white flecked and foreboding. There was a bad storm rising and the first drops of rain were falling.

The cottage was set back on a ledge in the hill overlooking the road, barely visible. Terry realized it would have pretty good view but was still sheltered from the full force of the wind. He approached it from across a field, leaping the low stone wall and crouching as he moved quickly to the back door. The property was quiet; it was possible Costello was out on the boat but the sea suggested that he wouldn't linger long on the water today.

He listened at the back door; there was the sound of music being played inside. The place was not empty unless a radio had been left switched on. He knew that if Costello was around, stealing up on him was not really the way to go. He'd just be more dangerous then. So he knocked. There was no reply, no sound of any movement within. He tried the door; it was unlocked so he entered and stepped into the tiny kitchen with it flag stone floor and the deep enamel sink with just a single brass cold water tap. It was primitive to say the least, a wooden table and chair, a shelf with a few provisions, an old cupboard with its paint peeling, an ancient refrigerator and a gas cooker of a style he remembered from his childhood with a grill at the top and heavy black-leaded burners. This was a million miles away in more than distance from the designer-inspired property that Nick had recently purchased in Neutral Bay back home.

He stepped further inside, closing the door behind him softly and welcomed the warmth of the interior. Nick hadn't compromised on heating and the oil fired system was working well. You couldn't expect an Australian to suffer cold.

He listened to the song playing. There was a plangent finger style guitar intro and then a soft and haunting male voice singing wistfully. He thought of Liam but it wasn't his voice or his style. This did not have his subtle lyricism, being more open and raw.

 

 

You and me both, Terry thought to himself as he leaned against the door and looked into the room beyond, a sparsely furnished parlour. It appeared empty. There was an open fire in a grate and a high-winged chair facing it. A bottle of whisky was uncorked and opened on a small table at the side and a glass used. Terry glanced about him and checked his back. This was not the time to drop his guard or let music appreciation cloud his judgment.

 

 

"Come on in, mate. There's a glass for you on the side...Might has well have one with me now you're here..." Nick's voice soft and low from the chair. He had been there all the time, aware of the presence of an intruder and not even bothering to take a look. Terry withdrew the knife from his inner pocket and cradled it in his palm. Costello could be armed. Most likely was.

He picked up a glass and walked forward, standing behind the chair and looking down on Costello slumped there, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked pissed, unwashed, a dark stubble on his face. Terry was not entirely convinced that was the case; you would be a fool to underestimate the man. There was no sign of a gun but it could be concealed. Good God, the man's hand was more lethal than a switchblade.

"Great song this. Great lyrics. Robbie always tells it like it is.  I get this feeling he's talking about me when he sings. Come to think of it, it could be you as well. Maybe it's just men in general. We're just fucked when it comes to love." He held his left hand up and took the glass from Terry's hand placing it carefully down on the side table with that precision of a drunk - or someone who was acting inebriated. Terry watched in silence as Nick poured out two large measures and gave the glass back. Holding his own up high he said "Cheers!" and slugged it back in a gulp. Terry sipped and set the glass aside. He was keeping a clear head.

Nothing else was said as the song continued to its conclusion. It seemed ludicrous that these two men were here listening to the words of a trite pop song with so much swirling beneath the surface between them unspoken.

 

 

"Right, let's have it then. What you doing here?" Nick said as she snapped off the CD with a remote control and slung the device back onto the side table.

"I came to see how you were."

"Yeah? Came to gloat, hey? I guess you won the right, mate....you won it all in the end. Got your girl back. You must be feeling very pleased with yourself now...Well, have a good look at me. I'm a fucking wreck. Broken hearted. Crying into my glass. At the bottom of the pit... enjoy..." Nick retorted bitterly and refilled his glass.

"I've seen you worse. Much worse..."Terry observed quietly.

"No, you haven't. You've seen me more out of control. Never worse, mate... never in my life have I felt like this...Now, tell me why you really came..."

"She asked me to. She's worried about you."

"Yeah...well, I am touched at her concern...yours too. How's her new boyfriend? Looks like a stand up guy. Now there's a bloke a girl's father would love. He still boned her on the first date though...bit slutty of her, don't you think?" Nick muttered and then laughed to himself.

Terry ignored his comment. "You been to Boston? How do you know about Brook Preston?"

"That his name? Knew it was some poncy name. Forgot it. He's so bland, you know? Must have something going for him..."

"She's young and needs to grow. Why were you in Boston? Why were you following her?"

Nick grunted. "I'm a stalker...I get my kicks watching people..."

"You get your kicks killing people, let's not forget that. Anyone who gets in your way...like Deborah Stavin, for example...So let me ask the question again. Why were you following my daughter?"

Nick didn't answer and there was a tense silence in the room. Terry looked about him, taking in the details. It was decorated in an old fashioned style; clearly Nick had done little to alter the original room, except for the haphazard collection of personal ornaments and mementoes. The place was crowded with them. Walls were covered in photographs of what appeared to be family and friends of long ago; a handsome dark haired boy, all smartly dressed, his hair combed and greased back, his clothes clean and pressed, smiling into the camera, often accompanied by an older grey haired woman wearing dark clothes, probably his mother. There were family outings, parties, group shots, pictures of him dressed as an altar boy, hands joined in prayer: hard to imagine Nick as an angel - but there he was.

Terry could pick out his father and sisters; there was a strong family resemblance amongst the three of them. Nick's Dad was a stocky, squat hairy man, with pronounced Mediterranean features - and the unfortunate sisters appeared to have taken their looks from their father; they were not attractive girls. But Nick was physically different, fine featured, tall and lean, athletic. His mother was tiny and delicate but that didn't seem to quite explain it. It occurred to Terry to wonder if Mr. Costello was actually the father of this boy or not. Was that the undercurrent that lay behind the unhappy home life that Nick had always implied?

Who would know now? He could be way off. His eyes panned across to more recent pictures and a wall of snaps of Zoe, some moody artistic photographs, semi-erotic although tasteful, many just pictures of her in natural poses, smiling, happy, a girl in love, staring into the camera held by her lover. There were some of them both together. They made a handsome couple. Their children would have been beautiful. Terry felt a slight choking feeling at that thought.

The room was also filled with souvenirs that Nick must have picked up in his travels; not works of art or the like, but just an esoteric collection of memories: sea shells, cheap native art, bronze statues from the east, gaudy figurines, trinkets of all types. No doubt, each meant something to this man who was so afraid that anyone would ever find out what he actually cared about. That was the thing about men who lived on that wild shore he had chosen. You are only safe while you walk alone. But if anyone ever learns your weaknesses or of the things that make you human, then they have a way in to destroy you. Nick must have kept this place to be the repository of the things he dared not leave anywhere else. Before Zoe, this had been his real home. And now it was the only thing he really had left. A cluttered bag of old memories.

"Did you come to kill me?"

Nick's blunt question cut through his thoughts. Terry's right hand pocketed the knife and then reached back, silently easing the hand gun from its clip in the belt at the back of his jeans.

"Not why would I have done that, Nick?" He replied evasively.

"You don't answer a question with a question unless you're hiding the truth....did you or did you not come here today with the express intention to kill me?"

Nick asked the question lazily, as if the topic bored him. He still lay slumped in the chair, playing with the dregs of his Scotch.

"It was an option. It depended on what I found," Terry answered honestly.

"You think I'm likely to do something to her? That it? I can't have her so I snuff her life out?" He clicked the fingers on his left hand as he said that. "You think I could do that? Put a gun to her head and squeeze? You think I'm crazy, don't you? A psycho with no restraints on himself? You got that from my records? That did they said about me?" Nick picked up a packet of cigarettes and took one out, lighting it and leaning back again to exhale slowly.

"You don't mind if I have a last cigarette? That the usual drill?"

"Mate, you have to admit, you are one fucked up guy. How do I know what you're gonna do? Zoe thought you might be suicidal. It had occurred to me. But keeping her under surveillance suggests you have other things in mind. And they rated you borderline sociopath with an inability to empathise with other humans. That alone is a pretty damning report even before you get to the rest of it..."

Nick laughed and started coughing. When he had managed to stop he went on. "I will admit I am not your regular guy. But was he born like that or was he made? That is the question. As for the pysch reports, I faked them. Christ, anyone with a modicum of intelligence knows what they're getting at with those crazy tests they do. You see, I wasn't a bloke like you, Terry. You rose in the army because you were an excellent soldier and a great leader of men. Now, let's face it, I was never going to be either. But they need other men, too. The ones on the outside. The mavericks. You frighten the shit out of them then they see a use for you out there on the edge."

"Why would any man want that? Isn't that enough to prove you are disturbed, Nick?"

"Catch 22, mate.  Great film. Even better book. I wasn't interested in being a 'yes sir, no sir, clean behind the ears, work my way up by sticking my tongue up the officers' arses, never forget my duty to queen and country kind of toy soldier'. I would never have made the grade. Couldn't keep my mouth shut. Wouldn't obey dickheads with more rank than me. Not prepared to lay my life on the line for something I don't believe in."

"Then what the fuck were you doing in the army then, mate?" Terry retorted.

"It was a means to an end. I'd blown every other chance. I'd never have fitted into the corporate world. I was wild and longed for danger and adventure. I wanted a career that would lead me somewhere. So I figured that if I became the man who everyone feared, I would be cannon balled into the heights of secret ops and from there, well, we know the opportunities that can lead to, don't we?"

"Are you telling me you purposely set out to create an identity that wasn't really you at all?"

"Oh, but it is me! Just I'm not mad. But I am very, very cold blooded. It comes in my blood. I'm a Sicilian. We make tough men. But, back to your original question. Your daughter never needs to fear me. I would cut my own throat before I ever harmed her. And I am not suicidal. Wanting to kill myself and actually doing it are two very different things. You see, I'm also steeped in Catholic guilt. Suicide is a very serious sin. The worst of all...That's what the nuns told us..."

Terry snorted. "Yeah... so you cope with murder but suicide's a No No?"

"I'm not a murderer. I just follow orders..."

"Crap....you just blew that theory right out of the water with your explanation of why you were such a hopeless soldier..."

"I killed people who deserved to die. There were no innocents. I feel no guilt for that..."

"Deborah Stavin?"

"She was a dangerous woman."

"Dangerous? That mean she has to die? Who are you? God?"

"You think I have no morals. I have morals. I have my own rules. I don't expect you to accept them but they are what I live by and I do have controls..."

"Not buying it, mate...it's a cop out. You either follow the accepted civilised norms or you cross and live like an animal. It's easy to move those boundaries you set yourself with that kind of logic. Anyone can make a case for what they do if they refuse to go by society's basic principles..."

"Then kill me. You can never be sure that your daughter's safe, can you? Not while I'm alive and breathing.  You got a gun in your hand? Sure you have. Put it to my head. Blow my brains out. I won't stop you. I want it, Terry. I'm tired and I've had enough. One day there's bound to be someone who will do it anyway. I'd rather it were you. I mean it, Terry. Take me out. Make it quick. I won't stop you...I just want some peace...nothing else left to me now..."

He held out his hands as if to show he was unarmed and ready. He hung his head and waited.

"You could have done that yourself. I can't believe your Catholic sensibilities stopped you blowing yourself away. You've tried it often enough with drugs and booze before..." Terry was at loss for what else to say. Nick meant this. He actively was seeking absolution down the barrel of a gun.

"Was going to. Day she left. Grabbed my gun out of my bag and put it into my mouth. I was a second away. Would have done it. Then I heard that damn dog whining. Who would have fed him? It would have taken days till anyone found me. He'd have eaten me..." Nick laughed coldly. "Would have lost his fucking teeth gnawing on my hand though..." That made him giggle, a vaguely hysterical sound. "Then it occurred to me if I topped myself then she would always blame herself. I didn't want her to have that on her conscience. She's the kind of woman who would never have been free of the guilt. Even though she never did anything wrong. She was right. I was too old and dirty for her. Too riddled with sin and filth for a girl like that. I didn't want her to spend her life thinking she'd caused my death. Better to let me carry the burden than her. I'm used to guilt."

Terry returned the gun to its holster and sighed, moving forward to sit across from Nick in the opposite armchair. "Why the fuck do you make it all so difficult? Why didn't you just say that at the start?"

"Please, Terry. I've had enough. I'd rather it was you. You're like my father. Well, not like my real father, I mean I wish you had been my father... I might have been a better bloke then...wouldn't have been after Zoe, either...I've never been one for incest..." He laughed sadly. "It wouldn't take much, Terry. Coupla seconds. Bang! You've done it before." Nick looked up at him beseeching. The guy was so deep in his pain, it really did seem like putting an animal out of his misery. But he wasn't an animal. He was a man. You have to go on. You just have to.

"Not going to make it that easy for you. You did a lot of damage. Now learn to take your punishment like a man. You have to face this. Every day of your life. Learn from it. Build your future on it. If you ever loved her then do what you said. Like the song. Be a better man. Don't fall back into that pit she found you in. She got you out of it. So prove you're worthy of her. Pull yourself together. Make a decent life. You may have lost her but now you know what you do need in life. There'll be other women. One day you'll find the girl you need..."

"I'll never love anyone else...you ever going to love another woman? You ever going to get over Annie?"

There was the rub. No, he never would. How many woman had he ever really loved in his own life? In truth, just two. One he had killed and one he had betrayed. He would never get over either of them. Or the guilt. Nor would Nick. A man like Nick doesn't give his heart easily - wasn't that what had scared Terry the most? He had known this was not a passing fling. But now faced with this man's heart exposed, bleeding and raw, he knew he couldn't leave him without some hope. Every man needs to know he has a chance.

"She's young. I am proud of her that she recognised she wasn't ready for a life with you. It took more maturity from her than I thought she had. She has to live her life first. Find out what she can really do. Flex her wings. Sample freedom. Go her own way. Because men like us don't really leave a woman with the chance to strike out on her own once we marry them. We're so full of need. They have to give it all away for us. She can't be asked to do that - yet. But who knows? A couple of years time and she might see things differently. I doubt she'll meet a guy like you easily. There can't be that many out there. Make yourself into a man she would trust and maybe one day, she will be ready. Even if she never is, you'll be a man worthy of any woman then."

"I'm already nearly forty..."Nick muttered, wiping at his eyes.

"You got anything better lined up?"

Nick grinned. "Not that I can think of. You really think there's a chance?"

"Realistically? No. But she's worth a try. Where there's life there's hope...Just be there for her, Nick. Whenever she needs you. One day she might. I won't always be here. I'd like to think there were men around who would keep her safe..."

Nick nodded and reached out, grasping Terry's right hand in his own. He felt the solid grip and knew there would be no man stronger than Nick if he only turned his will to the right path.

And he had the sure feeling that a corner had been turned at that moment. By both of them. 

 

The front door opened and a blast of cold air rushed into the cosy fug of the room along with an ugly mutt of a dog who bounded over to Nick and jumped on his lap. Nick laughed and scratched fondly at the dog's fur, muttering affectionately. Terry glanced in surprise at the newcomer and found himself looking straight at Liam.

"Liam? What the fuck you doing here?"

His son was carrying an armful of groceries and looked equally stunned to see his father. "Could ask you the same thing. Told you I was going away for the weekend..."

Terry groaned. "You knew where he was all the time? I bust my nuts tracing him, called in every favour I know in two continents and all I had to do was pick up a phone and call you?"

Liam smiled. "You're too up your own covert arse to do something as regular as ask, aren't ya, mate?"

Nick started laughing. "Love it! The intelligence agencies of the western world haven't a fucking clue where I am, and the Guitar man here is cheerfully sitting on a mountain of intel... Class act...Liam...you took your fucking time. I thought I'd be at the bottom of a cliff by now..."

"Yer what?" Liam said as he unloaded the bags in the kitchen. "Sausages and mash do? I'm not exactly the Naked fucking Chef, you know? I took my time 'cos I called in for a pint. This barmaid heard me and said 'Another Australian?' I wondered what she meant. She's called Morag. Bit on the plump side but they need the fat to keep them warm in this weather up here...said I'd called back tonight. You two fancy coming? Just remember I saw her first, ya bastards..." He called in. "She'll keep me warm tonight...she's so many rolls of flesh, you'll probably have to send a search party in for me tomorrow morning..."

The other two laughed and shook their heads. "Yeah...and we'll find ..."Terry began with the old joke but Nick was onto it straight away and finished it off.

"...a few Japs who don't know the war's over...!"

Liam chuckled and busied himself in the kitchen. Terry turned to Nick and whispered. "You knew he was going to walk in! What if I had shot you? He would have walked right into that!"

Nick shrugged. "You would have needed him to dispose of the body. And he would have done it if you'd asked him to. He's your son. Do anything for you, he would. Time he stopped strumming on his guitar and joined the real world anyway... Give him plenty of material there for a song, hey? He's a great kid. Spent the last two nights holding me together. I was...really out of it when he arrived. Made me eat. Sleep. Wash. Like a fucking nursemaid..."

"...Like a friend, you mean?" Terry murmured. What a man Liam was underneath it all! How do you teach a kid to do the right thing? Some people just have it innately in them to understand. He wondered what had passed between the two men. Nick could have been dangerous, drunk, high, waving guns about, turning on anyone who came near him like a wounded animal.

But Liam had been there for him and stood his ground. He felt awed by both of his children. When had they become these people? Where had he been while his little ones became such fine adults?

"Yeah, like a friend. I got a friend now. Ain't that something?" Nick said with a laugh. 

"Two. You always had a friend in me. And you still have. Mate...?" And Terry grinned. "...One question...how did you get the dog in the country with the strictest anti- rabies quarantine regulations in the world?"

"I'm black ops, mate...I could get a nuclear weapon in if I wanted...a dog? Easy peasy..." Nick threw back his head and laughed. "Tell you about it sometime... Hurry up with that food, Liam...I'm fucking starving...!"

 

*

 

Annie glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. She would never finish this section before her lunch appointment with Stephen. Where did all the hours go to in the day? Returning to the hard copy she was annotating, she crosschecked a date in her notes and tried to speed up her reading. Just then her phone rang and she groaned.

"Anna? There's a gentleman to see you..."

"He got an appointment?"

"No..."

"Then tell him I'm too busy. Who is he? Can I put him off?"

"Er...he seems pretty insistent..." Sarah's voice dropped; she had clearly turned away to speak into the handset so the person could not hear. "I think he might be someone you'll want to see..."

"That so? Who is it? Brad Pitt?" Annie laughed.

The girl grinned. "No such luck. But he's a sort of ...impressive guy...not your average wannabe author anyway. And he says it's personal..."

"Name, Sarah?" Annie asked a little annoyed to have been interrupted for nothing.

"Thorne...says Terrence Thorne on his business card..."

Anna gasped and then fell silent. She felt suddenly breathless, trapped, almost looking around her for an escape route.

Sarah's voice sounded, asking if she was still on the line. "Well, should I tell him to go or stay? He looks like he might not take no for an answer..."

"...Show him in. I'll see him. And Sarah....hold my calls, please?"

Annie ran her hands back through her hair and licked her lips, wishing she had time to go check her makeup. Sarah knocked; Annie took a deep breath. It had been three months. She hadn't set eyes on him since she had thrown him out of their hotel room in New York. It felt like an age ago. Another lifetime.

The door opened and Sarah popped her head round. "Mr. Thorne...Ms. Dwyer...you want coffee?"

They stared at each other and both shook their head. Sarah pulled a face and realised this was, in fact, a very personal moment. She ducked back out and closed the door quickly.

"Annie?"

"You found me then?" She smiled a little ruefully.

"I asked Liam for the address. Haven't been checking up on you. Still don't know where you live...." He replied, looking a little awkward. She realised she hadn't even stood up or asked him to sit down.

"Take a seat. Please." How odd to say that to the man you have slept with for half your life the man who knows every inch of your body and every mood you have, was privy to your hopes and dreams, your fears and frailties! Sit down. Would you like a coffee? Can I do anything for you?

Terry sat down. Annie thought he looked good. He always looked good to her. But somehow she had expected him to look older, as if his hale and hearty physical appearance suggested he hadn't been suffering much without her. She had lost weight. She didn't suppose heartache had put him off his food. Nothing ever did.

"You look great, Annie. As always. Beautiful..." He seemed ill at ease and changed tack suddenly, looking about him at the tiny cluttered office. "So this is where it all happens? Where you spend your days..."

He had meant it just as an opener; she seemed to take it as a putdown. "Yeah, well it isn't quite the state of the art office men like you expect. Humble but it's mine. I'm not looking for your approval..."

Terry exhaled slowly, trying to ride her bite back without letting it get to him. "That wasn't my meaning. Look, Annie, I'm not here to beat around the bush...." And then he stopped, searching for the right words. His whole life had been about finding the right approach to talk people round. Read them and adjust to tease out their position and slowly turn them. He was a past master at it. But she left him like a babbling idiot even though he knew everything about her. She should have been the easiest target of all. He wondered if he still actually understood her at all for all he knew her.

"I'm here to try and make some peace between us. This situation has gone on too long. We need to talk. About the kids. About what happened. About us. About the future. Talk like two grownups who care for each other, as I believe we do. Have lunch with me today We can go somewhere conducive to conversation but where you'll still feel safe. I'm not here to intimidate you or try and make you feel that you have to swallow what I did and give up all you have achieved in the meantime...I just want us to find out if there is hope for us. I want to heal the breach. I miss you. Every day. Give me a chance, baby! What's the point of all those years we loved each other if they don't count for something now when the chips are down?"

She sat, still and pale, and listened to him. He wondered what was going on inside her head. She appeared stunned. In shock even. He had an urge to just grab her and shake her, like she needed jumpstarting. At first he thought she wasn't going to answer but then she appeared to find her voice. "I can't. Do lunch, I mean. I have a client."

"Can you put her off?"

"Him. No. It's important."

"So is this. More important than your job..."

She raised her chin at that. "Oh yeah? I thought there was never anything more important than a career. Or was that just your career? But I forgot. That was important and made lots of money. Mine's just a dilettante's plaything, hey?"

"That is not what I meant, Annie, and you know it! But this could be the single most important moment of our life together. You can meet your client tomorrow."

Annie gave him the full weight of her stare, her violet eyes clear,  stubborn determination evident. She was beginning to dig in. Not a good sign. How to shift her? "I stepped aside every time you ever asked me to for years. Your next assignment. Your next mission. Whatever. It was always more important than me and my job, than me and my needs. Than the kids and their school commitments. Than Sports' days. Parents' evenings. Problems with the house. My Dad in hospital. Dinner parties I'd arranged. Holidays you promised us....All the times when I needed you and you just stood there and told me I had to be sensible and put up with it. The list goes on and on. You want chapter and verse?"

Terry swallowed hard. How to argue with that? She was right. When had he ever stopped and really cancelled anything on her request? Sure, a swimming gala seemed an insignificant thing - but it hadn't been to his children. And a bloody client could always have been put off a few hours. He decided not even to engage on that topic. "Okay...dinner then. Tonight? Will you meet me for dinner? We can talk then....be honest with each other...really get to grips with the problems..."

Annie paused and bit on her lip, playing with a strand of her hair that had fallen from its clip. He knew those mannerisms. She was weakening. It made him a little annoyed with himself for reading her fragility but what can you do? She could read him just as well herself.

"We do need to talk. Things have changed, Terry, and we have to be realistic. We can't just pretend the past few months didn't happen..."

"Exactly...exactly my point....cards on the table...Annie, I want you to have a career. We can base ourselves back here. Buy another place. Or live separately if you prefer. I mean for the time being. Just see each other. Like friends. Maybe occasionally a bit more...until we're ready..."

"...You mean occasionally have sex...? Just get together for sex? Isn't that a bit...sordid?" Annie frowned. Damn...she was backing off again.

"Well, I just meant...whatever we felt was appropriate...We've been together a long time, love. Sex is hardly something shocking between us...we both have needs but...if you don't want that, it's also fine....Annie, you call the shots. I'm just shooting in the dark here, love..."

"I don't know...it's too much for me to take in all at once. There are things you don't understand....things that have changed..."

He held up his hands. "Dinner...just let's do dinner tonight. Like the old times? Fancy restaurant....good meal...vintage wine...have a laugh...keep it easy...have a real talk...come on, baby...you know we've been so tense with each other. This could be what we need...Jesus, Annie! It's almost Christmas! What we gonna do for Christmas? Spend it alone? That what you want?"

Her chin began to tremble then. Nothing like sentimental seasonal memories as the ace card. "Christmas...Oh God...I don't know what we'll do....I can't bear the thought of..." She broke off then and struggled against tears. He passed her a tissue from a box on her desk; she took it and for a moment their fingers touched. Her eyes met his as she dabbed at her cheeks.

"Dinner... Tonight...Okay.... I better wear something expensive. I know your fancy restaurants, ya flash git...!" she smiled at him shyly through the tears. "I'll meet you there. Where do you have in mind?"

"Let me pick you up. It's a cold night. I don't want you out alone in the dark on the tube..."

Annie smiled again at his concern. Scribbling an address on a pad, she tore off the note and handed it to him. "My address and land line. My cell's underneath. In case you get lost?" She giggled at the unlikelihood of that and he grinned back. He took the note and gazed at it, already memorising the details but still putting the scrap of paper into his inside pocket as if it was a precious cargo.  He patted his inner pocket as if to show it was now safe near his heart.

Standing up, he nodded, awkward again at the moment. "I'll better let you get on with your work. Seven thirty. On the dot. Thanks, Annie, for listening. I think we can move forward now...I really do..."

She got to her feet. The desk was between them. Physical contact would have required one of them to make a move that might not be appropriate at that instance. Terry felt she would have let him kiss her had there been less distance but he didn't push it. Annie reached out her hand and he took it, squeezing it softly in his own and then raising it to his lips. He felt the frisson that ran through her body at his contact. That was enough. A glimmer of what he could do for her if she would give him another chance. Better to leave it like that and let her think about it all day. Let the anticipation work its magic.

Smiling, he took his leave and made for the door, looking back at her once and seeing her face, a high colour in her cheeks, a dreamy moistness in her eyes. "On the dot! You got that?" He barked in his regimental style with a grin. Then he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

Resting back against the door, he closed his eyes a moment to compose himself but could not resist clenching his right fist triumphantly and muttering "Yes!" under his breath. He saw Sarah, the receptionist grinning at him from her desk.

"You know how long I've been chasing her? Love, you've got no idea..." he winked over.

"You fixed up then?" Sarah retorted gaily.

"Looks like...but keep Mum, eh?" He put a finger to his lips as he sauntered out and left the girl shaking her head in amusement at his antics.

As he burst jauntily through the exit to the stairs, he all but bowled over a man approaching. The guy gave him an odd stare. Terry returned his gaze with an impassive look of his own. The man was a good looking guy, maybe forty, dressed with a slight flamboyance that made Terry wonder. Author? Could be gay, maybe? Bit precious with that bright red scarf and beret? Well, turn off your gaydar, mate, he thought to himself as he ran down the stairs, grinning. Entirely the wrong bus.

 

 

The office door closed behind him and Annie stood there, holding her breath, still reeling from the encounter. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst and her knees were shaking. Then she began to jump up and down, silently screaming in delight, whirling about the small room in sheer joy. He was going to come back and he wanted them to make a go of it! He had been so nervous and tentative. He had sounded like he'd been rehearsing what he wanted to say and it was coming out all wrong. He had been adorable. Totally adorable! She would have had him over the desk if he hadn't been so uptight and gentlemanly.

God, Terry! It's going to be alright! It is going to be alright! We're going to work things out and everything will be alright! It was all she could do to stop ringing Zoe and telling her but sense told her to wait until they were at a place where they could meet the children together and give them the good news. Sure, Terry and she had a lot to iron out but she knew that they were both eager to get it right this time.

And they so would. 

There was a knock on the door and she forced herself to settle down, brushing back her hair. "Come."

The door opened and in walked Stephen with his usual urbane charm and a hint of a smile. "Ready, Anna? Lunch?"

 

 

Out on the street, Terry sauntered along with no particular sense of hurry. He stopped at a street corner and called the restaurant he had in mind, made a reservation and then arranged for flowers to be brought to the table during the evening. Then he wondered if he ought to buy her a gift. Some jewellery, maybe? Or would that seem too much, like a sleazy attempt to buy back her affections? Maybe he should just get her something for Christmas then? Hold off the expensive gift until then? Give her some diamonds in bed on Christmas morning? That was classier. She would love a move like that.

Bond Street. Go and have a look now; it was only a few stops on the tube. He almost ran down the escalator at Notting Hill Gate to the trains, feeling a sense of euphoria that he'd never known in years. He felt like a boy who has just asked the high school queen out and she had actually said yes. Down on the platform he leant against the wall smiling, lost in thought.

His eyes drifted over to the opposite platform milling with people going the other way down the line. Then he saw him again. The poofta with the red scarf he had seen in Annie's office.

He was talking to Annie. She was with this guy. It was definitely Annie in a long grey cashmere coat with a pale mauve scarf and gloves, her pale cheeks pink with the cold air but a lively dancing gaiety about her that was blatant even from across the track. She was laughing and seemed not to be able to stand still, grasping the man's arm and whispering to him; he put back his head and laughed, bending down to add his own comment which made her blush and slap at his arm playfully.

Terry thought his heart had stopped as he watched the lovers. Client for lunch that she couldn't put off? He'd really fallen for that one.  She was meeting her boyfriend! Jesus Christ, he'd been so intent on hearing it the way he'd wanted it to be that he'd completely missed the clues. The tears. The hesitation. She hadn't been moved by his arrival and declaration but upset because it was too late and she didn't quite know what to say in response.

Yeah sure, they had plenty to talk about tonight. The divorce. The settlement. How they would deal with the children. Who spent Christmas with whom in future.

 

"Things have changed, Terry, and we have to be realistic..."

"Christmas...oh God...I don't know what we'll do....I can't bear the thought of..."

"Just get together for sex? Isn't that a bit...sordid?"

"There are things you don't understand....Things that have changed..."

 

Things have changed. She had kept saying that. That's what she intended to tell him over dinner tonight while they made sensible adult arrangements for their futures. Annie was preparing to tell him that she had found a new man and that it was too late for them.

He was damned if he was going to take her out and sit at a table while she told him that little revelation. He had some pride left. 

Terry swallowed deep, his vision beginning to swim as he continued to stare over at his beautiful girl, laughing and happy in the company of another man. No longer his. Someone else's beautiful girl now. He'd never be able to find his way back with her. He had to face the truth at last. He would never be with Annie again.

Just then the man looked across and saw Terry. Their eyes met in recognition. Annie's escort smiled coldly,  swung her so that her back was turned to his direction and the surreptitiously raised two fingers behind her back. Victory? Fuck off, mate, she's mine now? It hardly mattered.

The hurtling train on the opposite platform hid them from view. Moments later, it had screeched out, leaving the bare platform. She had got on with him and was gone into her own new future.

Terry leant on the wall and caught his breath, ignoring the arrival of his train and its departure until he was left standing there on his own empty platform.

He took out his cell and called up the usual number. "Hayley? Terry Thorne. Book me on the eight o'clock tonight to Sydney. Usual...no, make it a single this time...I won't be back ..."

 

*

 

Liam had been nervous before the set but as he had sung and the audience in the small venue had shown an immediate response to what he was offering, then he'd begun to relax. They liked him. A lot. He had begun to chat to them and got a warm response. It felt easy, natural and he had that sense again of his power over people when he sang, how they listened and fell under the spell of his stories. By the end, when a burst of thunderous applause gave him the chance for more, he was feeling invincible. This was what it had all been for. This is when it was real.

Confidence made him change from the planned repertoire as he came out again for his second encore. He had been a hit on his first real public outing in this high end supper club which attracted members of the business and was, in many ways, the most critical of debuts. If you can win this crowd then you were really on the map. Time to take a risk, he thought, and sound them out with what he really wanted to sing tonight. What he really needed to sing.

With a shake of his head and a muttered "I'm going this one alone, mate" to the leader of his backup band, he leaned forward from his stool to raise the microphone to speaking height. "This is a new song I'm working on. It's dedicated to all you guys out there who lost the one you wanted. Ladies...we might not show it often enough, but we get hurt too, ya know?"

He smiled sadly and began the lilting chords of the opening of his new song. The chords gave way to the elegant finger style as he looked up, his eyes far away as he remembered who he was singing about. He looked up at the ceiling, away from the crowd and saw the snapshots of his life before his eyes. Moments from the past. Mum and Dad. Zoe and Nick. Happier times. How they were now, broken and lonely, hopeless and in despair.  Sad times. Love wasted. Gone wrong. People he cared about who had lost it all. Everything dashed into pieces and lying shattered. 

Liam slipped into the husky falsetto, his voice torn with the emotion he was still feeling.

 

 

"What the fuck is that?" Liam's agent leaned over and muttered to the famous celebrity singer who was sitting back across the table, grinning at his protégé as he listened to Liam's surprise addition.

"His first number one. Christ, that fucker can write a song..."

 

...Don't miss the sequel to On The Rocks, coming soon....Dawn....

*Thanks, as ever, to James Blunt for his music and inspiration!
Anyone interested can access the music and video of You're Beautiful (the final song).

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