**

Day Thirteen: 12:04pm

As she sat in her bedroom idly thumbing through an illustrated guide to the castle she had found in one of the rooms Jo wondered what Lucas was doing with himself now. Today she was pleased to find that she was once again feeling herself again. Yesterday, she had woken up feeling noticeably better than the day before but with strange memories of little black sucking insects chasing her in her head. It had all been rather disturbing and she wasn't sure why she would have such unpleasant dreams.

She had been well enough to get up and potter around the hall quietly for a good part of yesterday. But she had still had a sore throat and was very tired, and had experienced a couple of bouts of dizziness and sudden chills. Which she hadn't told Lucas about because she was quite sure he would insist that she go back to bed and she thought she was quite likely to die of boredom given that she had nothing whatsoever to do there.

Yesterday had been a sad day too as they had buried Malcolm. Although perhaps it was not quite correct to say "they" had done it. Lucas had dug the grave and placed Malcolm's body in it. Without the numerous people who usually assisted at funerals it was a curiously physical operation, neither quiet or discreet, as she could hear Lucas' breathing become harder the further down he dug and see the sweat beading on his forehead. He had rolled up his sleeves and she could see the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort of it. She remembered what it had felt like to have Lucas' arms around her. They had been strong and sinewy and it had been comforting to rest inside them. But that was over now – definitely over. There would be no more of that anymore.

She had stood to the side, watching silently. She didn't offer to help, which was unusual for her. That would have seemed to make her a collaborator in Malcolm's murder and she couldn't stomach that thought. And Lucas would probably have refused anyway because of her illness.

When he had finished Lucas stepped away from the grave and stood opposite her. "Did you want to say anything?," he asked, after a moment, observing the way she clutched a piece of paper in her hands.

Jo looked down, avoiding his eyes, and began a little awkwardly, "I just wrote down a couple of things Malcolm taught me which I thought I would read out so that he would know I haven't forgotten them."

She took in a breath and reminded herself that she was not to cry now. She had done that already when she had sat with Malcolm. And it was important not to cry in front of Lucas.

"Firstly, Malcolm always says that it is fault of every Englishman to know that you can never rely on the weather and yet it is in our national character to assume that today will be an exception. Therefore we must always be prepared for the worst. That," said Jo pausing, "was important advice for carrying out field work. Damp shoe prints on carpet have the potential to ruin many an undercover operation so you must always take a spare."

"Another thing I learned from Malcolm is that technology is like a good book – it will work for you but you have to give it the proper attention and it doesn't do to try to take shortcuts to get to the end."

"Malcolm knew so many interesting things and I am very lucky that he shared some of his knowledge with me. Now I know the capitals of almost every country now and I learned so much about the history of this country. Like for example that the city of London was the capital of England in Roman times and was called Londinium. And that six of the traditional seven gates in the old walls which surrounded the city are of Roman origin. These were Ludgate, Newgate, Aldersgate, Cripplegate, Bishopsgate and Aldgate. The last one – Moorgate is from medieval times."

"And he taught me other things as well. Like how to recognize when it is best to stay away from Harry's office. You can tell this by a little twitch on the left side of his face and then gradually his face starts getting more and more beetroot coloured. But by the time that happens its already too late so you have to know to look for the twitch – that is," she amended, "unless you're Ruth. In which case it's probably still safe to enter."

"And when I first joined he taught he how to tell when Zaf was teasing – which was pretty much whenever he opened his mouth and how to tell when Ros was being sarcastic, and that the fact that her lips were moving was usually a clue and explained what Colin's techno-babble meant when I didn't have a clue. And he also pointed out gently at one point that Adam was a married man which saved me from embarrassing myself even more than I had already done."

She looked up at him and finished abruptly, "I'll miss him. That's all really," then added, "I don't have a poem for him though," biting her lip.

Lucas nodded. "Malcolm would be proud that you remembered the things he taught you. And perhaps I can help with the poem."

"It's one that Malcolm loved and he used to say to me often when I first joined the Grid. I wasn't very old then - 24, about the same age you were when you first joined."

Lucas looked down at the ground and began in a low voice,

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son.

Lucas paused for a few seconds then added, "rest in peace Malcolm," and fell silent.

By the time he had finished, Jo was sniffing quietly to herself and fighting a battle to stop her eyes from watering. She did win it after a minute or two and she was pleased that Lucas hadn't even appeared to notice her struggle, so preoccupied did he seem to be.

After they had returned inside later than evening Lucas had tried to reach out to her by touching her shoulder and asking her softly how she felt. She had responded by turning on some much needed frostiness. It had been quite easy as she had seen Ros do it many a time and it was simple enough to copy her mannerisms and voice in the hope that that would dissuade him from trying that again. He might be used to finding his charms irresistable to other women but she was quite capable of ignoring them. She was a trained MI5 officer after all, not some lovesick schoolgirl. It seemed to have been effective though he didn't really look frightened, just a bit put out and kind of annoyed.

But fortunately yesterday was over and she was now feeling quite well.

With Lucas she seemed to have reached a rather uneasy truce that morning. She could recall that he had sat by her side when she had been ill and vaguely remembered that he might have gotten her a glass of water which had been cool to drink but she couldn't really recall much else, except that it had been rather comforting to think that Lucas was there somewhere if she needed him. Which of course she didn't she added to herself, now that she was better.

They'd said a little to each other at meals yesterday and he'd insisted on her taking it easy and had made her something to eat. It was difficult to remain cross with him when he kept doing things like that. But she hadn't forgiven him for hurting Malcolm either – in fact she wasn't sure she ever would. So they seemed to have reached a stalemate. Jo wasn't rude to him. It wasn't really in her nature to be so she was polite enough, but distant.

The problem was she didn't trust him any more and she must never allow him to become close to her again, like he had been before. That was when the trouble would start. Because Lucas might have an amiable side he was showing now but he also had that other side – the side she didn't want to see again but that Malcolm had known.

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of a knock on the door, and hastily got up to open it.

Lucas was standing in the doorway and met her eyes gravely, "I've had a message from Jim. He wants me to meet him in Reading. He has a job for me."

**