Book III: Wherever I Lay My Hat

 

 

 

"When you said you could dance, Mark...I really didn't think that this what you had in mind for us..." Leah giggled as Terry showed her how the pissheads in an Australian disco might have interpreted this piece, which the young boys manning the disco had obviously played for his benefit.

Terry grinned and fooled about even more. "Generally speaking, blokes don't dance back home. It's not really an Aussie male thing, y'see? We prefer propping up the bar with a coldie while the sheilas dance with each other..."

"Strange country..." Leah added. "How's your birthrate...?"

That made him raise his eyebrows with a wicked laugh. "Growing healthily, love...but, the women back home are usually more than satisfied with a quick fumble...easier all round, really..."

"..I don't believe a word of it..." Leah giggled.

"I'm the exception that proves the rule, Leah...my mother taught me to dance. Now, I took a bit of stick from the boys at the bar, but, mate, I always got lucky later..." He teased with a cheeky wink.  It was an important rule of living another identity: use as much as yourself as is safe to do so. It makes the whole legend so much more authentic. It also screws your sense of reality up even further. Mark and Terry were beginning to fuse. Rebecca was beginning to feel like a wife. He had even had a few day dreams about kids. Surreal. He tried to recall Penny's face but kept seeing Tessa. What the hell did that mean?

"You're incorrigible, Mark...but such a charmer. As I'm sure are all you big strapping Australian boys! You've got plenty of fans around here, you know? The ladies of the kibbuyz are all besotted with you..."Leah replied as he swung her country-style into a bit of a waltz, difficult to execute against these odd rhythms, but then local hops never bothered over much with tempo or such like. Most of the farm boys in Oz just grabbed a girl and spun her round, oblivious to any music.

"You want to give me a big head?" he retorted.  They both laughed easily as they carried on dancing, Terry singing the absurd lyrics to her. 

 

 

"Vegemite?"

"It's a culinary wonder of Australia...you haven't lived until you've tried it..."

 

 

"He's very sociable...Mark, I mean. Leah loves to dance, too. I'm not very talented in that way..." Chaim smiled over at Tessa.

"You call that dancing?" She looked across at her husband fondly. "Yeah, he loves to mess about. He's very playful really. A kid at heart. He'll make a great father one day..."

Chaim nodded. "You will have one extra son, I'm afraid..."

Tessa nodded benignly. "Congratulations, by the way... I already spoke to Leah. You'd never guess. She looks so full of life and health!"

"A little sickly in the morning, but nothing more. We are very excited. This will be the first grandchild for her parents ..."

"And you...what do your parents say?" Tessa asked, apparently guilelessly. Chaim fell serious. "They are delighted, of course. But we are not close...My father and I do not see eye to eye on a number of matters..."

"That's a shame. Maybe the baby will pull you all together. It can happen," Tessa offered her advice sagely.

"We live in hope," Chaim replied without much apparent conviction.

The other two joined them at that moment, both still laughing, arms round each other. "Your woman can dance, Chaim me old mate...you sure you can trust a smooth operator like me with her..."

"...Hark at him!" Tessa added brightly. "Last of the Casanovas... come on then, Take me on the floor. Let's see if you're as good as you think you are!"

"Chaim! Get up...just one little dance...pretty please..." Leah pleaded and the young man reluctantly stood, held up his arms in surrender and let her pull him onto the dance floor.

This time, it was a more appropriate romantic number, the husky voiced singer crooning as the floor filled. Terry held Tessa close, nuzzled her ear, hummed along, murmured softly as he felt her body fall into step with his and she pressed in close.

 

 

"That the story of your life...Terry?" She whispered his name softly. It felt good to hear it on her lips.

He gave a soft laugh, did not reply, and instead began to sing the words quietly.

 

 

"Is that an answer?" she asked him again as they moved back and forth, covering little ground, just holding each other.

"What else do you expect from me?" he pulled away and looked at her with his open and honest expression. He wasn't a natural liar.

She exhaled air. "Are you in love with her? The girl back home, I mean? The general's daughter?" No one would have thought to watch them smooching dreamily what the content of their love talk was.

"I'm not even thinking about that life. That's the rules, love...we leave it all behind..."

"And you take up with the next woman you meet as if your girlfriend doesn't exist? Just lay that old hat down on some other woman's bed?"

Terry sighed. Why couldn't they leave him the fuck alone? What was Tessa giving him this shit for? She knew the game as well as he did. Better, technically.

"I'm not getting into that. This is here and now, Tess. It's all we can hope for. Let's enjoy it while we can..."

"Do you love her? I think I have a right to know..."

"Actually, you don't. I didn't sign the Official Secrets' Act on that one. My private life is private....it's the only fucking thing I have left that still is...and even that's a moot point right now..." he snapped.

Tessa said nothing but he could tell she was hurt. Her body took on an imperceptible distance as if she was wrapping herself in some invisible cloak.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I didn't mean it to sound like that...But I can't give you any more than that...You telling me you want more? I know nothing about you, Tess. You know nothing about me...let's keep it that way, huh?"

 

 

 

"I don't believe you..." Tessa muttered

"What?"

"The song lyrics...You're nothing like that man..." she whispered, lifting her face up to his. He bussed her lips, opening them gently with his, turning his head to the side, rubbing his cheek against hers touching her face with his fingers.

"Oh, but I am...in my fashion...however hard I try to be otherwise..." He added as he kissed her deeply. People watching smiled. Innocent young love, it appeared to be.

Is anything ever what it seems?

 

*

 

Tuesday night, the foursome drove into Eilat in one of the jeeps belonging to the community. A night out at the movies. Terry drove, Chaim sat next to him and the two women chatted at the back.

Another jeep also left the compound just after them apparently on a similar journey. The bodyguards revealed, Terry thought. His guess had been right. So they weren't the only ones who were something other than what they seemed?

The first part of the journey, once they left the farming area, was along a lonely road descending down the hills towards the sea plain. Terry turned on the air conditioner and raised the volume on the radio, shutting out the night sounds. Tessa caught his eye in the mirror and he nodded. She fumbled in her bag and pulled out some photographs. "I told you I'd show you some of the wedding...we only have a few with us...Mum has the proper album." She fished out a small plastic wallet of images, photographs that they had taken back at Thames House in a mock up studio there.

"Oh! What a lovely gown...you look so beautiful, Rebecca!" Leah passed a photograph over to Chaim. "Look at them both...you look so happy..."

While the three poured over the snaps, Terry smiled absently and kept an eye on the wing mirror. He watched as a vehicle suddenly turn out of a track to his left, seemingly from nowhere, fall in behind their car, blocking them from the view of the following jeep. He took the next bend swiftly and the headlights from behind died away. The road behind him was empty. They had lost the tail.

Half a mile and a few hairpin bends later, he saw the lights of a truck blocking their path. Pulling up slowly, he nudged Chaim. "I think we got a problem..."

Chaim looked up startled. It didn't seem to occur to him what Terry meant.

"Problem? Are we losing power? Has that truck ahead broken down?"

"I don't mean that kind of problem. Those blokes...they've got automatic rifles..."

Chaim rolled down the window and called out in Hebrew. There was no response to his polite request. He began to feel the first twinges of concern. The men on the road were indeed carrying guns and were wearing headdresses that revealed only their eyes. It was the typical chequered headgear of Palestinian militia. But what could they be doing here down so far south near Eilat?

He tried Arabic. Still no response. The three men advanced and stood ranged in a semi circle around the vehicle, their weapons fixed on the four inhabitants of the car. Leah did not speak, merely putting a hand to rest on Chaim's shoulder. Rebecca screamed. "They've got guns!"

One of the men stepped forward and shouted something tersely. Chaim looked at Terry. "He wants us to get out of the car..."

"No fucking way...!" Terry started up the engine. The men took aim, ready to fire.

"NO! Don't try that, Mark. They will shoot us down! Just comply...We will be fine. There is a car following us...they will arrive shortly and they are armed..."

"What? Who is armed? What the fuck's going on here, Chaim?"

Chaim turned to Terry, regret on his face. "I am so sorry, Mark...Rebecca...you are caught up in events that are nothing to do with you...Please, turn off the engine, I beg you...I will explain later but for now, we must do as they say. No sudden movements. These men are trigger happy and have scant regard for human life. I implore you, Mark...do not try to be a hero...!"

Terry switched off the engine and put up his hands. "Calm down, Becks...do as he says..."

One of the militiamen came forward and opened his door, indicated he should step out. Terry looked back at Rebecca who whimpered, then he jumped down. The man pushed him hard against the side of the jeep and pulled his legs from under him. He fell heavily to the ground, a foot placed roughly on his back while the soldier searched him for a weapon. Satisfied he was clean, Terry was dragged to his feet and knocked away from the vehicle with the butt of a rifle. To an onlooker it looked like a damaging blow, although it was in reality nothing more than a feint. Terry groaned and staggered forwards. The soldier grabbed him and threw him face forward against the rocks.

"You okay?" McTavish muttered.

"Hunky dory, mate..."

"I could have made it more authentic if you like..." his sergeant chuckled. "You're in charge of this, kid...I'll let you run it for now. But I'm warning you, we might have to get nasty. Barak's a hard liner. No guarantees he won't just tell them to shoot his son in the head. Dying for the cause is such a good vote winner..."

"Give him a chance. You don't do fuck until I tell you...!" Terry rasped back.

"Who made you the CO, rookie?"

"You did...just then...This is my call, you said. I know these people..."

"Let's not hope you've got too cosy, pal. No room for sentiment on a caper like this. Now take a swing at me. I want to give you a good going over..."

Terry swung out wildly and this time received a gun butt to the head. He fell to his knees, blood gushing down his face. McTavish had meant what he said. Stars danced before his eyes and the rush of nausea that preceded a faint swept over him. Then blackness.

 

* 

 

He awoke, his head buzzing, a dull ache thrumming behind his eyes and a painful swelling throbbing on the side of his skull. Tessa was leaning over him, gently cooling his forehead with a wet cloth. As soon as she saw the flicker of consciousness in his eyes, she bent closer. "Mark...Rebecca...remember...!"

Terry groaned and said nothing, still groggy and confused but understanding enough to let his head settle and clarity return. He turned his head; it hurt like a bitch. Moaning softly he tried to focus, squinting in the over bright light until his eyes made out the hanging bulb above him. There was no shade. The contours of the room began to take shape. It was a simple low roofed hut, stone walls, probably an outhouse or a shelter up in the hills. Beneath him was a clay floor. The few sticks of furniture were basic. Leah was sitting on the only chair by a small table, Chaim kneeling by her talking to her softly.

"Where are we?"

"He's awake?" Chaim heard the voice and sprang up, joining Rebecca where she crouched by Terry who now realized he was propped up against a wall, sitting on the floor. "Are you alright, Mark? How's your head?"

Terry gingerly raised a hand and touched his scalp, wincing as he felt the bloody contusion. "Fucking bastard Arab...!"

Chaim smiled. "I see you haven't forgotten how to swear...I think you'll live..."

"Yeah? You think so?" Terry retorted. "What the fuck's going on, mate? What do you know?"

Chaim looked back at Leah before slumping on the floor next to Terry and explaining. "My father is Aaron Barak..." The other two looked suitably shocked at the revelation. "I am sorry. It is not something I boast about. My father and I go our separate ways for the most part but there are still some measures he insists upon. I am potential target, like it or not, merely by my kinship. Some might say I am a soft target, so my father has decreed that I should have body guards. The car behind us tonight contained two government agents who are the designated watchers...."

"So where were they back there?"

Chaim shrugged. "I imagine they are dead. These soldiers are very good at what they do. I suppose they have been watching us for a long time..."

"I don't understand..." Terry began.

"...Nor do I, in truth. I presume that this is an attempt to gain some leverage over my father. They are Palestinians. This is a dangerous incursion deep into Israel, so they must have something big up their sleeve. I would think that our lives were not in danger. I am more valuable to them alive. It gives them more bargaining power. And if we were killed...then the next time, Israel wouldn't even give them the time of day..."

Rebecca began crying quietly. Terry held out his arms and she slipped inside while he rocked her gently. "Not much consolation to us, eh? Wrong place, wrong time...What bargaining power have we got?"

Chaim did not reply, merely standing up and going back to where Leah was sitting, her head resting in her hands. 

The night hours ticked by slowly. Midnight came and went. There was one narrow low wood framed bed with a coarse mattress. They agreed it should be for Leah whose condition demanded that she be given a better place to sleep. Chaim lay on the floor beside her. They held hands. Terry and Rebecca remained curled up against the wall. He nodded off, his head still reeling from the blow. She rested her head on his chest and fell asleep also.

Sometime deep in the night, the men came, dragging Chaim and Leah up and taking them outside. One man was left in the room with them, standing over them with an automatic weapon pointed.

As soon as the door was closed, he set the gun down and pulled off the head covering. "You two look cosy..." Oliver Townsend grinned. "Looks like McTavish almost bashed your brains in there...

"Too right. Thanks for the sympathy. Try saying it without laughing next time, you bastard...so....what's the story?"

Townsend squatted down by them, pulling out a map and showing them their location. "Memorise this. Quickly. This is our present position. Barak says no. Won't even countenance it. Kill them, he said. Fucking hardline bastard..."

Terry rubbed his hands over his eyes. "This was fucked from the start...a hardliner like him wasn't ever going to give in to blackmail..."

Townsend sniffed. "Well, it's not strictly blackmail, is it?" 

"Only the convoluted logic of intelligence agencies could argue that one, sunshine...right, so do I get to brain you now?" Terry pulled himself to his feet. Townsend rolled his eyes. "Come on, Oz...you know you've been waiting for a free swing for weeks...make it good, eh? Then I've a reason to smash your face in some days soon..."

He didn't finish before Terry's fist impacted with a crunching blow to his jaw that sent him flying backwards, falling heavily onto the table and bouncing off onto the floor. With a length of rope that had been left on a shelf, possibly meant to tie them up, he swiftly trussed his comrade up and then took the chequered kaffiyeh, wrapping it round Townsend's head, securing it tightly around his neck and using the end to stuff in his mouth as a gag.

"Are you sure he can breathe?" Tessa asked as she watched him work.

"We'll soon find out, eh?" Terry muttered without much apparent concern. But she knew that he would have ensured the man had not suffered too much despite his fighting talk.

Rolling the prone body over, face down, Terry snatched his gun, rifled his pockets helping himself to a knife, cigarettes, the map and a miniature short wave radio. "Grab that bottle of water and the biscuits....here...!" He tossed over a hand gun. "Blanks but they can still cause damage so do not aim near the face or too close to the body..."

She nodded and took the gun, handling it professionally, checking its weight, releasing the catch and taking a test aim. Then grabbing the food and water, she followed Terry out into the night.

 

They advanced silently, using the low building for cover as they adjusted to their surroundings and the dense blackness. They could hear voices coming from a nearby barn. Chaim and Leah were trying to reason with their captors who appeared to be unresponsive. There were no answering voices.

As they neared the entrance, they watched as the two men inside set up a video camera, no doubt under the pretence of sending a message from the kidnapped victims to the Prime Minister himself. 

Terry raised the rifle from where he was standing and shot the first man, who fell back, an explosion of blood spraying out from the wound in his chest. Tessa ran forward with the hand gun, putting herself between Chaim, Leah and the soldier. Another shot rang out as Terry he leapt to the side, rolled and firedas he took aim. This man staggered a few paces and also fell. Tessa emptied another few bullets into him while he lay on the ground. The man's body sagged, clearly dead, a pool of red blood widening about him.

Throughout, Chaim and Leah had sat watching, aghast. In the aftermath, they still seemed incapable of speech. "Come on...let's get out of here...!" Terry hissed, pulling Leah up and helping her from the room. Rebecca did the same for Chaim.

"How did you get out? You killed all of them?"

"Bloody well hope so," Terry muttered. "Talk later. There could be others nearby. Let's grab that Land Rover and get the fuck out of here..." he bustled the two out. They were in profound shock, staring back in horror at the dead bodies.

Half dragging them across the rough ground, forcing them into a crouching stumble forward, Terry literally picked up Leah, tossed her into the vehicle and pushed Chaim after her. Tessa jumped into the passenger seat almost as Terry revved the engine and moved away, the wagon swerving dangerously as he shot forward and hit the track to the road. Tessa found a small torch in the glove compartment; Terry drew the map from where he had stashed it in the belt of his jeans.

"Turn left..." she read the directions quickly. "About two clicks down, throw a sharp right into what looks like a track. It's a herder's path but will bring us out on a road that cuts the border out of sight. They've got it cleared for us..."

Terry said nothing but drove fast, alert for any sign of life in the hills about. It looked quiet. That could be misleading.

"Who are you?" It was Leah who found her voice first. "You cannot be what you claim to be. Those men were professionals..."

"I'm an officer with the British SAS...Rebecca's an intelligence agent with Her Majesty's government...we were sent to protect you after the our people received a tip off that this kidnap was planned...Your father is in Geneva at the moment at a sensitive crisis meeting. The Palestinians wanted an extra bit of leverage...They weren't sure if the powers that be were going to come down hard enough on the Israelis so thought a little bit of extra insurance would not go amiss..."

Chaim laughed scornfully. "My father would see the two of us dead before he would ever negotiate with terrorists..."

"We know. That's why we're here, mate..."

"Why send in British agents? Why not simply inform Mossad? Anything you people can do, they can do better...It seems an unnecessary show of generosity..." Leah was shrewder than her idealistic husband. She was not entirely convinced by this story.

Tessa turned round. "Mossad would have let you die. This would be a perfect little set up for winding up Israeli opinion for a new deadly assault on the enemy. And it would probably bring you a fair bit of public opinion in your favour internationally as well. Peace loving idealist and his pregnant wife taken from their gentle kibbutz world and savagely slaughtered ...makes great press if you want to demonise the opposition..."

"Are you saying our own security forces would have colluded in our deaths?" Leah gasped.

"They wouldn't have stopped them, let's put it that way... So we stepped in and saved your lives. We're the good guys, Chaim...Hold on...bumpy ride ahead..."

Terry made the turn and hit the track, the suspension bucking roughly as the negotiated the rocky terrain. Chaim held Leah firmly, buckling their seat belts.

"You've been lying to us all along? You are not Mark and Rebecca? Then who are you? Are you not even a couple...?" Chaim was struggling with the revelation; his voice betrayed his disgust at their ruse.

"It was for your own good. It has to look real or we would have been suspected. Chaim, we just saved your lives! You couldn't manage at least a thank you somewhere in there?" Tessa asked wryly.

"I don't for one minute imagine that you did it out of a sense of altruism. Whatever motives brought you here, humanitarian action was not even on the list..."

"We're just doing a job, mate..." Terry offered.

Leah scoffed at that comment. "That's what the guards in the death camps said..."

"For fuck's sake..." Terry rasped. "You gonna bring that one up every time someone shows up your current regime for what it is? I resent that remark. Very much. And it is totally inappropriate now. Frankly I don't give a shit about your opinion. I know what I'm here for and I'm standing up for what I believe in. Are you? Or is this happy clappy lifestyle of yours just burying your head in the sand, Leah?"

There was a silence in the car for a while following Terry's comment. It was a tense and uncomfortable one but at least it stopped the meaningless ideological discussion. Neither Terry nor Tessa had much patience for that one.

Down off the hill track, they rejoined the better road that led across the border in a remote place. They had been held in Jordan but only a matter of about five miles away from Israel and a relatively short hop from the kibbutz. They drove steadily back through the early predawn until they approached the outlying fields of the community. There Terry pulled up. He and Tessa got out.

"We leave you here. You can drive back yourselves..."

"You're not coming? What about your belongings?" Chaim asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't think so. We can do without a Mossad interrogation, mate. This is where our job ends. You go back, talk to Daddy. Tell him you're safe and sound and no real harm done...and do mention, while you're at it, that he has the British government to thank for this, hey?" Terry added with professional detachment. "Don't leave the important bit out or we won't get in his good books, will we? We have to have an agenda, right? Good luck with the baby, folks...brave new world...I can see why you want to raise kids in it..."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and began helping himself to anything he needed from the vehicle. Tessa stood back, saying nothing, a remote disdain on her face. She wasn't even prepared to argue with people like these.

As they turned to leave, Chaim called out. "Are you sure you know what the real agenda is? I would stake the life of my child on it not being the one you think. The British government intervening to stop Israel having a real excuse for massacring Palestinians? Is that what you think this is about? Your government doesn't give a damn. As long as the war here continues, they are happy to watch the Middle East destroy itself so that they can keep some status quo of their own in place. This is not about restraining Israeli aggression..."

Terry stopped. Tessa nudged him on. "Ignore him...!"

"What do you mean?" Terry turned round. "What is it about then?"

"I do not know. But we shall know soon enough. Something will happen in the months to come and this intervention of yours today will have been what caused it. Watch the news, Mr. SAS man and Miss Government lady. I hope you drown in your guilt..."

Chaim helped Leah up into the Land Rover and climbed in himself. Terry and Tessa watched as the vehicle moved off in a cloud of red dust. He switched on the radio and found the frequency, calling the rescue helicopter that was waiting only a short distance away across the valley. In minutes the whirring blades announced its imminent arrival. It descended, they scrambled in and it was off, carrying them across the fields of the kibbutz to safety. Terry stared lugubriously out of the window, seeing the fast vehicles of what he took to be security forces trying in vain to intercept their position. They had been minutes away from capture and a couple of months on trumped up spying charges in an Israeli prison until some deal could be struck. It didn't make him feel any better about what he had just done. Chaim's comment had rung true. What was this farce really all about?

A hand on his arm disturbed his thoughts. "You okay?" Tessa asked softly.

"He was right. We were being used, just as much as they were..."

"I know. You never know the full story, Terry." It felt refreshing to use his name again. She was trying not to think of this as the end. Maybe it wasn't. Who said they couldn't go on meeting when they got back? "But whatever happens as a consequence of this, it isn't our responsibility. We're field officers. They give us orders and we do the job. No one got hurt. We saved a few lives. We made no mistakes. A job well done. How they use it is their concern. We're not to be blamed for that..."

"That how you sleep at night, Tess? You never get to wondering if that's just a bit too glib? If everyone takes that line then what's the point of a conscience? We might as well be mindless robots..."

Tessa smiled at him. "That's all we are, Terry. I suggest you lose that sentimental streak of yours fast. If you think this was a test of your morals, then you're going to have a hard time ahead. This action was a walk in the park compared to most of what you'll be asked to do down the line...but it is a simple as this. Someone has to shovel shit so that our democracies can grow roses. In the end we are doing bad things for a good reason. You have to see the bigger picture..."

He didn't answer, just nodding and turning his head away, staring morosely over the disappearing landscape.

 

*

 

The debrief had been tedious, thorough and about as interesting as watching washing tumble round a dryer, although to Terry a session at the launderette would have seemed highly entertaining in comparison. But it finally came to an end and the men were dismissed, saluting and marching out sharply, to fall at ease outside and revert to a casual lope as they made their way down the corridor. There was a camaraderie there now that had not existed before, forged through their first real field outing together. The abuses and insults were still there but it was more affectionate and inclusive since they had returned.

"Right...let's get pissed..." Jerome rubbed his hands together. "Or are you disappearing off with your bird, Oz...? Can't say I blame you. Mind you, you got to shack up with the sexy spook, didn't you? She put out? Bet you two were at it like rabbits those boring long evenings...."

"Lieutenant Thorne? If you could just step back in here for a moment...?" Captain Howe called out. The four men stopped and turned round.

"That's you, Oz...looks like they want to give you a private pat on the back..." McTavish said. "Come on, lads...we're wasting good drinking time. Catch you later, Tez..."

The other two raised their eyes in mock surprise as they left him. Terry marched back up the corridor and entered the office. He was not at all sure he was looking forward to this bit. So far he had managed to avoid anything more than official contact with the Brigadier. It would be hard to do so in a private interview. He swallowed hard. What was coming now?

"At ease, Terry. Take a seat..." Howe began. Terry removed his cap and sat down, far from easy.

"We wanted to tell you personally that you acquitted yourself very well during the recent field operation. MI5 are not easily impressed. You've raised the prestige of the Regiment on this one. You know how these spooks normally are - they think they're the glory boys and we're just the firepower backup...You've got your promotion. Lieutenant, first class. Didn't take you long, man. Good work..."

Terry couldn't keep the smile from his face. Praise was carefully rationed in the Regiment. This was tantamount to a decoration almost. His pleasure was, however, quickly curtailed.

"If you would leave us alone for a moment, Captain? I'd like a private word with the lieutenant..."

Simon Howe nodded and took his leave of them, closing the door behind him quietly.

Terry stood up and to attention. Somehow he didn't want to be seated for what came next. "So, you came good, hey? Looks like what they say about you is true. Maybe we'll make a decent officer of you yet. Military intelligence is also pricking up their ears..."

"Thank you, sir..." Terry responded, determined to keep this to official matters if he could.

"Don't thank me. I half hoped you'd come a cropper. So you've saved your career? I have mixed feelings about that one, as you can well imagine. You haven't contacted my daughter since you returned?"

Terry drew back his shoulder and set his face. "Was that a statement of fact or a question, sir?"

"Don't get clever with me, lieutenant. Just keep it that way. You want a career, you stay away from her. I think you get the picture?"

Terry looked across scornfully and made the general wait for his reply. "My relationship with your daughter is none of your business..."

"Oh, yes it is..." the Brigadier broke in."

"Oh no, it isn't," Terry snapped back. "Your daughter's relationship with me might be. But what I do with my private life is bugger all to do with you, sir. With respect. But I'll give you this much for free. I have not contacted your daughter nor do I intend to."

Gerald Wallis scowled at Terry's forthright dismissal of him. "Once a bastard, always a bastard, hey? I made it too hot for you, did I? So what happened to the hearts and flowers then? You dropped that story fast enough once it dawned on you that this might hit your professional future where it hurts..."

"Are you trying to bait me, sir? Unwise. I am not the man to challenge...you'd be well advised to quit while you're ahead. Not that it's any business of yours, but this is my decision based only on the fact that I care a lot about your daughter. The best thing Penny and I can do for each other is to leave each other alone. You win, sir. Hope you choke on it. Sir..."

Wallis listened, anger barely concealed beneath the surface but aware that he would be best served not to push Lt. Thorne any further. He detected a high level of integrity in this man, even enough to act recklessly against his own interests. This business was messy enough. "I do not like your tone, man. But for now, I'll leave this matter be. Get out of my sight and stay out of it for a while. And you might just have a half decent career in the service....Dismissed...!"

Terry left HQ, returned to his billet, showered, changed and packed an overnight bag. A few hours later he was locking up his car on a suburban street in north London, a bunch of flowers set on the roof and a bottle of champagne under his arm.

Tessa Phillips lived in a renovated Victorian terrace in an upwardly mobile street. Must have cost her a pretty penny. He wondered how much spies got paid as he gazed out at the pleasantly appointed street.

The door opened; he spun round. "Terry! How did you find me?" Tessa's smile was instantaneous and genuine.

"You'd be surprised what skills I've picked up working with you lot..." he grinned. "May I?"

Tessa let him in, took the flowers and felt inordinately thrilled by his presence and the romantic gesture of his gift. She had broken a major rule and given him the name she was known as in the real world, hoping he would look her up. She hadn't expected it to be so soon.

"I'll get this on ice. It's good to see you, Terry. I've got a few days' leave..."

"Me too. Maybe we can spend them together?" he asked hopefully.

Tessa stood across the room, looking at him shrewdly. "What about the girlfriend? Terry, are you playing games?

He sat down heavily on the sofa. "I don't play games with women. I haven't seen Penny nor do I intend to. I think it's better for us both if we just forget it ever happened..."

She sat down opposite him. "Well, that's very noble of you...so you chose your career over the girl...and didn't even have the guts to tell her? And five minutes later you're bringing me flowers and champagne?"

Terry looked up slowly, fixing her a steady stare. "Maybe it looks like that. But it isn't. Tess, I did care about her...I do care about her... but...I always knew that it was a relationship going nowhere. Penny and I...we're from two different planets. In the long run, we could never get past the family objections....my job... her lifestyle....we didn't have one single thing in common....she could never understand where I was coming from...The past few weeks just gave me some thinking time. It's better this way. It would have ended anyway. What's the point even trying to go beyond this? We could both lose everything if we pushed our luck...maybe our time just ran out...."

It might have seemed trite if another man had said it but from Terry, she knew it was authentic. This came from the heart. He was hurting but he was also thinking. He was probably right. Whatever he needed from a woman, Penelope Wallis hadn't given it to him. But what was he doing here with her?

"I'm sorry it didn't work out. Why are you here, Terry? You think you can dump one woman and walk right into another person's life, just like that? I hope that you aren't harbouring any unrealistic notions that you're going to find what you're looking for in me...I never promised you anything like that..." She didn't pull her punches. It wasn't her style to gild the lily.

Terry stood up and paced across the room, his hands in his pockets, searching for the words he knew would make sense to her if he could only get them right. "You and I? No. I'm not here because I think we're going to fall in love and walk off into the sunset like Mark and Rebecca. Very much the opposite. Tessa...people like you and me, we're never going to find all that. We're both ambitious. We're not interested in marriage and families and the conventional rites of passage...we're sexually compatible...we've a lot in common...but, Tess...most of all, we understand each other. I think both of us need someone out there who would care. To come back to. Whom we can trust with those things inside that we can't tell anyone else..."

"Oh, Terry..." Tessa stood up, speechless in the face of what he said. He took a step towards her.

"I need someone to be there. And I think you have a hole deep inside of you that's crying out to be filled too...and I'm not talking about sex..."

She smiled up at him. He opened his arms and took her inside, hugging her close. "Who knows? Maybe one day, years down the line...maybe we'll find what we thought we were looking for? Maybe we won't. But, Tessa...I think we ought to give it a try...what do you say?"

It had been a long time since Tessa Phillips cried. But tears fell involuntary down her cheeks right then. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much she wanted him. Or how much she cared. His words only made her even surer that she was in the presence of a singular man, one who could be very good for her. A man like this changed the rules, altered all the assumptions. "Oh, Terry...how did I find a man as perfect as you? You really think we can make this work...?"

He shrugged. "We can give it a whirl..." He ran his finger down her cheek.

"As simple as that?" She slid her arms over his strong shoulders.

"Why not?" He kissed her softly and then pulled away. "Hey...let's toast our unconventional emotional future in bubbly, hey? That bottle cost me a bloody fortune...you got anything to eat in this place? I'm fucking starving...Should I order out? Chinese? Indian...?" Tessa put back her head and laughed. How long since a guy had made her laugh? She pushed him back onto the settee and straddled him, unbuttoning his shirt, kissing him lewdly.

"Oh no, soldier boy...you're not getting food that easily...not till you've eaten me first..."

 

*

 

Gerard Wallis reached out and refilled his tea cup. "Bella...the damn tea's cold!"

"Sorry...I'll just brew a fresh pot..." She jumped up from her own breakfast and ran into the kitchen. He settled back behind his copy of The Times. Penny watched him, idly playing with a piece of buttered toast.

"You really get off on treating people like shit, don't you?" His daughter challenged him.

Wallis dropped the newspaper and glared at her over his reading glasses. Penelope had come down to revise for her exams, not that he'd seen much evidence of study. The girl was pale and listless, eating like a bird, thinner than ever. He knew what the matter was. She was pining over her lost love. How like a woman! Silly emotional fools!  And naturally she was taking it out on everyone else. "What is this about, Penny? Must we all suffer just because that bastard left you? It's high time you showed a bit of character and put it all behind you. You're well rid of him if you ask me..."

"I didn't ask you. I wouldn't dream of asking you about anything... It's bad enough sitting here watching you gloat..."

"Gloat? I had to walk in on you naked in my bed with some stud you decided to bring home...And you talk of gloating? Exactly what was in your mind when you did that, madam? Don't even try telling me that it was just some thoughtless act. You did it because it amused you to show your total lack of regard and respect for your mother and father...You are not the victim here...so stop acting like we did something wrong to you!"

He shouted back at her and then shook out his newspaper, raising it over his face again, blocking her out. Penny stood up, walked over and dragged the newspaper out of his hands. "Stop hiding behind that bloody newspaper...! He never called me...what did you say to him? What the hell did you do to make him leave me?" She screamed in his face.

Her rage shocked him. He took off his glasses and folded them slowly, placing them in the upper pocket of his waistcoat. "I think you need to calm down, young lady. For your information I said nothing to him. Although he had plenty to say to me..."

"You've spoken to Terry? He's back? Is he okay?" Penny forgot her anger for a moment just at the mention of his name.

"He's been back for weeks. Yes, I spoke to him."

"What did he say? I have to speak to him...!"

Gerald waved his hands dismissively. "He doesn't want to speak to you. Penny. It's finished. Lieutenant Thorne no longer has any intention of calling on you. He realized that this was for the best. I agreed."

"I don't believe you. I know you forced him to stop seeing me! What did you say? Did you threaten to cashier him or something? You'd do something like that just to spite me, wouldn't you...?"

"I did no such thing! The man was just using you. He ran as soon as the heat was on! Any man worth his salt would have stayed. He's not good enough for you and never was. And that is the last I am going to say on the subject. You'll be grateful one day that this ridiculous liaison ended when it did before it really got out of hand..."

Annabella came in at that point carrying a fresh pot of tea. The atmosphere in the room was electric. She held her breath as her husband and daughter faced each other out. "Anyone for a cuppa?" Her request fell on deaf ears.

"Grateful? You think you know everything, don't you? You think you can play around with everyone's lives like we're all in your stupid little army! I'm so sorry I'm not the son you wanted. You could have moulded him, hey? Turned him into another little tin soldier...instead you got me. What a disappointment, hey?"

"Penny...please, don't talk to your father like that!"

"She's hysterical. She needs to lie down...I think she needs to see someone. This pitiful display of self indulgence has gone too far!"

"I need to see someone? Like a psychiatrist? Is that what you mean? You've got it so wrong this time!  But yeah, there is something wrong with me...you know what's wrong with me? Apart from the fact that you've driven away the only man I'll ever love and broken my heart..."

"Oh for heaven's sake...don't be so melodramatic...!"

"Penny...don't...! Please don't...."Her mother knew what was coming.

"I'm pregnant...you've driven him away and left me alone when I needed him most..."

Wallis' mouth fell open. He staggered back a few steps under the shock of what he had heard. "Pregnant? Thorne's the father? Is this true, Bella? Did you know this?" he appealed to his wife.

"Oh, Gerry... darling...I was trying to reason with her...!"

"She was trying to make me have an abortion, is what she means. Well, I'm not having an abortion. I love Terry. You drove him away. His baby is all I have. Explain that in the golf club, hey? I hope you both choke on it...!" She turned on her heel and ran for the door, leaving her parents distressed in her wake

"Penny! Come back here....Penny!" Annabella ran after her daughter. Gerald Wallis slumped back down into his chair, burying his head in his hands. His little girl, a single mother at nineteen?  He couldn't allow that to happen. Terry Thorne might not have been deemed good enough to date his daughter but the circumstances were now vastly altered. He would not stand by and watch his Penny ruin her life. She wanted Terry Thorne? Then she was damn well going to have him. And the cocky Antipodean bastard was damn well going to marry his girl and put this mess to rights.

 

*

 

"Phone's ringing...Terry? Can you get it?" Tessa shouted as she scrambled eggs and laid the table outside. It was Sunday morning, a fine hot one, and they had stayed in bed late, drinking orange juice and reading the papers until almost noon. Now she was preparing brunch, the French windows wide open onto the small garden, while he lounged about catching up on a rugby international beamed live from Australia. Tessa smiled to herself. Was this really Tessa Phillips, Cambridge double first, ruthless career woman, committed independent feminist and highly rated young intelligence officer of Her Majesty's Government now bathing in domestic bliss and cooking for a man?

"Sure..." He loped over, dressed in nothing but a rather snug pair of shorts. It was a warm late spring day, June almost on the horizon. Laughter and the voices of small children wafted over on the warm breeze from neighbouring gardens. The English rarely let such a day pass without taking out the barbecues and basking. 

Terry picked up the phone; she slid her arms around his waist, dropping her hands to his groin and massaging the soft bulge. 

"Mmmmmm..." he sighed. "...Yeah?"

His body changed instantly as the voice at the other end of the line spoke to him. He moved her hands off him gently, shrugged her arms away and straightened up as he answered tersely in the affirmative. Tessa realized this was important, although she was somewhat concerned that he had given her home number to someone else. Very few people had access to that.

"I have to go...I'm sorry..." was all he said as he ran upstairs to shower and change, coming down shortly afterwards, ready to go.

"I cooked brunch," Tessa said softly.

"I'm sorry...I have to go..."

"You shouldn't have given out my private number..."

"Don't start, love. You're not the only one who has obligations, Tessa. I have to leave a contact if I'm off base..." He put on his jacket and walked to the door. He hadn't even kissed her. She wondered what had happened.

"Is everything all right? Are you being called back? Is something up?" She asked, holding him by the lapels of his leather jacket, detaining him, if even for a moment. Something was wrong.

"You know I can't discuss things like that...I'll be in touch...look, I'm really sorry but..." He gave up trying to explain, reaching down to tilt up her face to his, pressing his lips on hers. Yet, despite the tenderness of his gesture he already seemed to be withdrawing from her in some indefinable way. His career or his girl. Tessa knew there was not really a contest on that one. She also knew her reaction would have been much the same had the call come in for her.

As Terry left her house and ran across the quiet Sunday morning street that was bathed in a warm sunlight, heading for his car, a sudden premonition struck Tessa. She would never watch him like this again. He wouldn't be back.

 

*

 

It was seven thirty sharp on a balmy Sunday evening when Terry rang the doorbell of the Wallis home. He hadn't ever expected to be anywhere near this particular place ever again, nor did he wish to be there now.

The message from Howe had been oblique. "Dinner tonight at the Brigadier's. Dress uniform. No idea what it's about. I got the impression it was personal..."

A heady scent hung in the air about him from the flowering vine that was twined around the porch. It wasn't a fragrance he recognised, not yet being very attuned to the smells of flowers. Later in life he came to know it had been honeysuckle. A woman was to tell him that Victorian parents did not allow their daughters to gather it for fear of its reputation for inducing erotic dreams. It never held such delights for him. The smell ever after made him feel nauseous, with an uneasy sense of foreboding settling on him. The effect of memory was a powerful cue to the senses and emotions.

The door was opened by Penny's mother, a haughty and slightly mannish version of her daughter. She was still an attractive woman but had assumed that matronly style of the English upper middle class that was so sexually sterile, he had always thought. For a moment he had a flash of insight of how Penny might look thirty years on. That's what they always said, wasn't it? Look at the mother and you'll get a fix on how the girl will turn out.

He repressed a nervous and involuntary giggle. At least she didn't take after Wallis. But then, if she had - would he have been in this mess?

"Good evening, Mrs. Wallis. Terrence Thorne...how do you do?" What do you say to a woman to whom you have never formally been introduced but one who has already copped you naked and in full rut? The desire to laugh was rising in him.  It was a reaction born of panic and hysteria. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Penny's Mum did nothing to alleviate his discomfort, leaving him standing there for moments, his hand outstretched, before she deigned to give it a cool limp shake.

"Come in, please. Wait in the library. The Brigadier will be with you shortly..." If she had slammed the door in his face she couldn't have been any colder in her welcome.

 

Annabella Wallis closed the door behind her and rested her head back for a moment on the wood. The first time she had seen this man, she had not really allowed herself a proper appraisal of him, unsurprisingly. It had been easier to think of him as some crude rough soldier with no redeeming qualities. But the man she had just met was very different from the image she had clung to. It disturbed her greatly to realize that he was a very attractive man, whom in a different circumstance would have impressed her. Terrence Thorne was ruggedly handsome, achingly virile, quiet and reserved, with a shy smile that she knew would burrow into even the most fortified female heart. Decked out in the formal regalia of his regimental dress uniform, it would be hard to imagine a more impressive suitor for a young woman. Penny hadn't stood a chance when she met him. She stood even less now.

That was what frightened Annabella most. He was a man, probably a very formidable one, at a time in her life when what Penny needed  was silly young boys. Her daughter would not be able to handle a man like Lieutenant Thorne. Penny was spoiled, immature and shallow. This man would need a woman who knew how to love a man. What were they even thinking of trying to force them together?

Gerald would destroy two lives all for the sake of face and to appease his stupid pride. Penny would convince herself she was in love merely to stick two fingers up at her parents and to get her own way. She was indeed her father's daughter.  Annabella felt that she was staring down into the abyss. This marriage would fail. Please God, Thorne was not decent enough to do the proper thing by her daughter and take responsibility for his mistake. But even as she sent up her silent prayer, she knew that the man she had just met probably was a decent chap - and she and Gerard were going to send the two of them straight to hell.

"That him? Better get this over with then. Go and tell Penny he's here..." Gerald came bounding down the stairs almost as if he was eager to go into action. He probably was. Her husband revelled in conflict and bullying others to his will. He had some exceedingly unattractive qualities.

Bursting through the double doors, he strode forward. Terry jumped up to attention. "At ease, man. Take a seat. Scotch?"

Terry looked confused, mumbled his assent, sat down gingerly on the edge of a leather armchair, facing the desk while Wallis poured out two large tumblers and handed one over. "I assure you, you're going to need this..."

"Sir...I really do not know what this is all about. I haven't seen your daughter since..." he stopped short and changed tack. "...for a long time...I...really don't know why I'm here..." Then he gave up on his inept attempts at conversation and took a swig of the Scotch. Wallis timed it perfectly.

"My daughter's pregnant."

Terry choked on the drink, sputtering into the glass, coughing inelegantly and having to sniff to stop it running out through his nostrils. He almost drowned in malt. The bastard was going for maximum effect. "Pregnant? What? I haven't bloody seen her in months..." he countered defensively, jumping to his feet.

"Just wait a minute, soldier...she's fourteen weeks into her pregnancy. You can count, can't you? Don't even try to talk yourself out of this one if you know what's good for you..."

Terry said nothing. He had been well and truly blindsided. There was no doubt in his mind it would be true. They'd messed around too many times, tempting fate. What had been wrong with them both? At the back of his mind he thought he knew the answer and he didn't want to face up to it one bit. Had a screwed up part of his subconscious wanted to get her pregnant? Why? He wasn't sure he even wanted to try and work that one out.

"That shut you up, eh? You're here tonight for one purpose and one purpose alone. I can't think of anyone I would less desire as my son-in-law, but the fact remains you have fathered a child on her - and you are going to do the decent thing and marry her. I will not have my daughter left as a single mother like those Social Services tramps who swan around claiming benefits as if the world owed them a living for not keeping their legs closed..."

Terry stood rigidly, clutching the glass, letting the tide of prejudice and hate wash over him. His brain was working, however, finally beginning to understand the predicament their thoughtless lust had brought them to.

"...and before you think to suggest it, abortion is out of the question for a number of reason, not the least because my idiot daughter somehow believes that she owes it to you to bear your child. Christ knows what that trite bollocks is supposed to mean. She thinks herself in love with you...."

The ranting tirade went on; Terry was no longer listening. All he had heard was what lay beneath the scathing comment. He had abandoned Penny and she had still doggedly refused to give into the inevitable war of attrition they had subjected her to. She loved him enough to bear his child, even if it meant her ruining her young life, becoming a virtual laughing stock amongst her peers - and opposing her parents. It astounded him. He hadn't even had the generosity to call her to say goodbye and yet she had been prepared to take on his child for life.

"...This is not a request, Thorne. It's an order. If you don't leave this room and get down on one bloody knee to my girl, then I swear I shall ruin your career and make sure you're drummed out of the regiment. Don't imagine I can't do that. I don't give a damn how good a soldier you are, or how much we've already spent on training you - I'll have you court-martialled on some charge - and deported back to that godforsaken place you came from..."

"That will not be necessary, sir." Terry broke in. "Where is Penelope?"

"You'll see her when I'm good and ready..."

"I'll see her now. And you will give it a rest, okay? I've heard about enough from you already, Gerald. I will marry your daughter. Not because she's pregnant. Not because you threaten me. But because I want to. Do you understand that? And from this point on, you keep out of our lives. What happens from now on between me and your daughter is fuck all to do with you...and you better start treating me with a bit more respect while you're at it. You want to see this grand child of yours? You want to see your daughter again? You're not the only one who can make threats, mate...and the way I see it - I'm holding all the cards at the moment..."

It was only as he said it that the future began to take on a sense of reality for him. He was going to be a father. He was going to get married. He wasn't ready for either.

But that was too bad. He was a man who took responsibility for his actions. He was a man with a lot of love to give. He was a man who needed to feel that he belonged, that his life had a purpose beyond what it took to get through an average day.

Striding out of the door, he walked into the spacious hallway. Penny was standing there, beautiful and pale, like a shadow of her former vibrant self. To his eyes she looked thin and wan, too young and fragile to be a mother. He supposed it was early days. There was no apparent sign as yet. He had a sudden urge to restore her to how she had been when he first met her, make amends for how he had taken her life and all but ruined it through his own selfishness. "Penny....Christ, Pen...I didn't know...I didn't know...!" he gasped out.

She sobbed and was in his arms in moments. "Oh Terry...I know it wasn't your fault...he tried to keep up apart...! I love you so much....Terry...I love you so much....I was so scared...!"

He closed his eyes as he heard her desperate plea, closed them to drive away the future he saw marked out for him, a future he had almost begun to believe was possible with another woman. Penny needed him more than Tessa. Penny loved him. Wasn't it what he had always wanted? So what if this came too early for them both?  It might be good for him. He needed to grow up and stop acting like a hormonal teenager. He cared a lot about this girl. Together they would make a home for themselves and in time he knew it would be good. Someone to come home to who would always there, dependent on him, sharing his triumphs and supporting him through his disasters. She was as lost as he was. They would lead each other home.

"Penny...shhh...! Don't cry...it's alright now...I'm here...you'll never be alone again, princess... we'll get married...find a house...I won't let you down, sweetheart...you know I won't let you down..."

 

*

 

It was a sticky humid night, still light even at ten p.m. when Tessa left Thames House. The heat wave had continued right into June and the news reports were bleating on as usual about records being smashed with the unexpected high temperatures. As she crossed the road, making her way towards the nearest tube station, she heard her name called by the voice which had been haunting her dreams the past few weeks.

"Tess...?" Its deep rich tone was evident even from just the one word spoken, the Australian twang swallowing the word in that way of his.

"Terry?" She spun round - and he was standing there right at her elbow. 

"Hi..." he smiled tentatively.

"Hi....I was worried about you..." she began.

"Let's take a walk, huh?" She felt his hand rest lightly on the base of her spine, guiding her along the embankment. There were couples wandering along even at this time of night, brought out by the balmy summer night. If she closed her eyes she could pretend that was what they were, lovers out for an evening stroll.

"Come back to my place...we can have supper...a chilled bottle of white wine..." She wasn't sure why she said it. Her desperation made her ashamed. He would see how needy she was. Tessa was never needy. She hated him for making her feel like this.

"I can't. We need to talk, Tess. I can't stay long..." She knew then that this was the way he had chosen to say goodbye. In a public place, where she could not beg and plead and make things difficult for him. He was simply going to clinically set about detaching himself from her after all he had said. Why was he even bothering? She was surprised he hadn't just done what most men do. Fail to call again and let the whole thing die.

"You're just going to tell me it's over like that? Out here? Can't you even try to be a little less cold?"

He swallowed hard and turned away, staring out over the river as if looking for an escape route. "Tess...I'm sorry. Things have happened. Things I didn't expect. When I began a relationship with you, I believed that I was free to do so. But I was not. I am not free, Tessa. And I am so sorry that this means you are the one I have to hurt...for what it's worth...I am truly sorry..." There was a hint of professional distance in his manner that she had never noticed before. It occurred to her he would make a good politician.

She walked away a few steps, banging her hands on the stone parapet in temper. "Sorry? It's so easy for you to be sorry...stop talking in vague terms. Why is it over? Why are you not free?"

He paused, steadied his voice and gave it to her straight. "I'm getting married. Penny's pregnant. The baby's due in November..."

"What?" Tessa was stunned. "But you don't love her? Are you crazy? This is not the 1930s! Men don't do the decent thing anymore! Jesus Christ...you cannot let her snare you into this....! What is the matter with you?"

He did not like what she had said; it was evident from the muscle that twitched in his cheek as he fought to keep his temper. "I have my reasons..."

"You don't love her! She's a spoiled little brat, either too stupid - or too clever - to go on the pill..."

"That's enough, Tessa...please, don't talk like that..."

She grabbed his arms and shook him. "You left her for me! A baby is not enough to build a life on...! You don't even want to be a father...you're like me...we have too much to do with our lives to waste them on domestic bliss..."

"I'm not like you, Tessa. I never was. I know you're right in a way. You and I have a special rapport. We understand each other. But I'm not in love with you, Tess. And you're not in love with me. I don't think either of us would ever make the sacrifices it requires to get to that place. But Penny loves me and she needs me. She was ready to give everything up for me even when I walked away. I owe it to her to be a man for her."

"YOU'RE NOT IN LOVE WITH HER!"

Terry smiled sadly. "I'm not sure I believe in love. I'm not sure I'm capable of it. But I am capable of loyalty, tenderness, support, care, friendship...in the end...maybe that's what love is? I'll be as good a husband and father as I can..."

"Yeah...I'm sure you will...you'll always do your duty, soldier boy, eh?" She shook away the hand he placed on her arm. "Go away...! Go make your terrible mistake. There's a lot of things you might know, Terry, but there are a lot of things you don't. I hope one day you don't find out the hard way what you've thrown away today..."

He did not reply. Tessa turned from him and broke into a halting run. The last thing she wanted him to see were her tears. 

Terry watched her go. Tessa's greatest gift to him had been showing him what he did not want, even if he was still unsure he knew what he did. But life had decided that the option was no longer his to choose. Wearily, he made his way back to his car for the long drive north. To Penny.

 

*

 

Tessa lay on her back in the middle of her small patch of garden, staring up into the summer night sky, a bottle of Scotch at her elbow. He was gone. His fate was set. So was hers. There wouldn't be anyone else to tempt her into wavering from the life plan that she had set up for herself all those years ago. Terry had probably done her a favour. So why didn't it feel so good to get her independence back? Why did it leave a hollow emptiness deep inside that she wondered if she would ever again be able to fill?

She staggered back into her lounge and set the LP to play the track again.  She'd been listening to it all night. Tomorrow she would face the world with her armour intact. But for tonight, for one night only, she would indulge herself in self-pity and sorrow. "I did love you, Terry. Your Penny wasn't the only one prepared to sacrifice herself for you...but who can blame us? You were worth it. The saddest thing of all is...I think you just sacrificed yourself most of all...and I hope you don't spend your life paying for it..."

The song began and she sank down to the floor, letting the tears come. "Oh Terry...so bitter and so sweet...my beautiful soldier boy..."

 

 

Back  |  Site Map  |  Fiction  |  Updates  |  Links  |  Submissions  |  Contact  |  Message Board

 

  Site Meter