Please forgive the unconscionable amount of time it has taken me to get this chapter posted. I hope the next one won't take so long. The Russian words 'Nye dai bog' mean 'God forbid'.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny shook her head in response, sniffled something through her fingers and crumpled back onto the tree-trunk. Alex Callaghan's grey eyes narrowed as he turned them on her husband.
"Pen, don't, sweetheart." Lucas was improvising frantically now, something at which he'd had little practice since his angel's wings had fallen off and landed on Baby Jesus' head during the school Nativity play thirty-odd years before. "I promise, he's all right." He mouthed 'sorry' at Callaghan and put his hand on her shoulder. ""He's OK; your mum said they think he just had one of those little mini-strokes - " He broke off as Penny wailed in distress.
"Just?" She turned on him furiously. "You should have told me!" She got up again, alternately wiping her eyes on her sleeves and pulling at her bottom lip in agitation.
"I didn't want to worry you, darling," James said apologetically. The words rang with sincerity, because in his own persona Lucas would have said the exact same thing to Ros – minus the endearment, of course. He slid an arm round her waist. "Please, try not to - "
"Try not to what? " Penny erupted. "You know how worried he's been – about us, and – and having the kids up there - it's a strain, James!" Tears overflowed again. "It's too much for him!" She looked up at Callaghan, hiccoughed an apology, and turned her face into James's sweater. Callaghan took a seat on the tree-trunk and waited until James had coaxed Penny into doing the same.
"Where is your dad?" he asked quietly.
"He … in M-Matlock." The slight hesitation tied a reef knot in Lucas's stomach; Callaghan was watching Ros closely as if he recognised that the tears and panic were an act.
"Pen," he cut in swiftly, "we'll e-mail - "
Penny shook her head. "I want to see him … talk to them. And the kids, they'll be so frightened - "
"All right. All right, my darling. Your mum said your cousin Eliza's been helping; she knows all the details; we can talk to her. We'll try and Skype." He smoothed her hair gently. "How's that?"
Ros knew Ruth's operational alias as well as he did, and Penny, still sniffling, nodded shakily. "Let's go now - please, Jamie."
Callaghan frowned. "I thought you didn't have an internet connection at home?" There was polite enquiry and nothing else in his tone, but the part of Lucas's memory that stored conversations knew that neither James nor Penny had told him that directly; James had only mentioned it when chatting to Martin Cowley. Smooth, friendly Alex had been doing a little checking up.
"We don't," he said. "But there's an Internet café in town, going down towards Waitrose; we use that sometimes."
"Right, come on then." With a brisk, commanding air, he swung his leg over the tree-trunk and stood up. "I'm on my way home; I'll give you a lift." He smiled encouragingly at Penny. "No point in wasting time walking."
Lucas cursed inwardly; he had been planning to use that 'wasted time' to tell Ros what little more he knew and to discuss what they could do to accelerate their penetration of Crisis Crusade. Although Callaghan seemed sincere rather than suspicious, bumping into him here was a coincidence, and 'coincidence', along with 'casual' and 'curious', was a dirty word in the lexicon of any experienced MI-5 field officer.
"Oh, thank you!" Penny had pre-empted any excuse he might have made, jumping gratefully to her feet. "Jamie - " She tugged at his sleeve, and Lucas quickly focused back in.
"Sorry." He smiled at them both. "Thanks, Alex; that would be great."
"No problem." As they followed him back towards the marina, Callaghan threw back over his shoulder: "Hope you're still coming to the little event I mentioned?"
"Tomorrow?" James confirmed.
"Tonight." He gave a smile that was suddenly cold. "We chop and change a bit … keep any watching eyes nice and crossed." The friendly tone returned. "So, coming?" As Penny looked dubiously at James, he said encouragingly: "It won't do you any good sitting at home worrying, Penny. Will it, James?"
"Alex is right, sweetheart." Lucas made his tone as persuasive as he could, even as he knew that wild horses and The Golden Horde to ride them wouldn't keep Ros from attending. "Your mum did say your dad's over the worst."
"And it'll do you good to meet people who know what it's like," Alex added. "People in the same economic boat."
"Sinking ship, more like," James muttered as the other man opened the car doors.
Callaghan shot him a sharp glance. "Well, maybe we can help you find a place in the lifeboat." His eyes glinted. "Or offer you a torpedo. Penny!" as Ros ducked into the back seat. "Want to come in the front?"
James dropped his voice to a whisper. "It's automatic. She always goes in the back with the kids. Best maybe not to – er - " He shifted awkwardly.
"Oh, right." Callaghan slid behind the wheel. "Hop in, then." James hopped. "Netquick, is it?"
"Yes. Yes, thanks." James leaned over the back seat as the car pulled away. "Won't be long darling, then we can put your mind at rest. OK?" When Penny, hunched tensely in the corner of the seat, gripping the edges of the cushion, gave a tremulous nod in response, he turned back. "Alex, where is the –er- get-together?"
"In the Vicarage. Know where it is?" When James shook his head, he swiftly told him. For the sake of authenticity, Lucas, who could have drawn the route in his sleep and probably the building as well, scribbled the directions down on the file 'Fatima' had given him.
"Will there be many people?" he asked. He glanced in the mirror. Penny was still huddled in the corner, clinging to the seat as if she expected it to throw her off like a recalcitrant horse at any moment. He wondered if Ros wasn't overdoing the 'nervous trouble' bit. "Pen gets a bit uptight … you know, in crowds."
"No need." Callaghan smiled. "We're not Rent-a-Mob, James. Can't see Father Cowley on the barricades, can you? Che va piano, va sano, that's our motto. We'll have a few guest speakers, chat over strategy, that kind of thing. We're getting there, but we need to keep pushing. Our beloved government's looking a bit wobbly, but it still needs a bit more shoving before it does a Humpty Dumpty."
James snorted. "Sooner it has a great fall so much the bloody better." As Callaghan gave him another appraising look, he said: "Well nothing's going to get any better unless it does, is it? And as far as I can see, Crisis Crusade's the only outfit doing anything about it - at least anything intelligent. Anything likely to make a difference. Not this." He waved a hand disparagingly at the last few signs of the previous day's disturbances as Callaghan eased his way down the High Street. "Just mindless violence."
" It can sometimes have its uses," Callaghan murmured. "Underscores the point. Gets the bladders emptying in Whitehall, makes them a little more … receptive, let's say, to our more 'intelligent' message. But we wouldn't waste our energy on rubbishing a few shops." He smiled in the mirror at Penny, who was listening silently from the back seat, and took a right turn. "Talking of rubbish, Penny, have you seen the news today?"
"I – I heard it. On the radio, but I - " Penny looked to James for guidance that Lucas knew was perfectly unnecessary, because he and Ros had listened to the bulletin together.
"Alex means the council rubbish protests, darling." He allowed himself a chuckle. "Hilarious, whoever thought of that one."
Callaghan slid his car into the kerb about a hundred metres past the Netquick internet café and smirked. "Let's just say a friend in Cheltenham. Though I think Councillor Lester should get the credit, really."
James returned his grin as they climbed out. Cheltenham Council, like so many others up and down the country, had been slashing local services, and reduced their rubbish collection from a weekly to a fortnightly one. Reacting to protests from irate residents faced with overflowing, smelly Wheelie bins and gardens infested with uninvited foxes and rodents, the councillor responsible for the decision had pompously suggested that people 'use their initiative' and 'find some way of disposing of the excess'. A local doctor had done just that and dumped a bag of rubbish on Councillor Lester's pristine doorstep. Within days, the homes of councillors from Lands End to the Highlands had been turned into castles hidden behind ramparts of malodorous bin-bags gleefully offloaded by local residents. The sight of local dignitaries and their families sealing their windows, and scurrying to and from work and school behind handkerchiefs and anti-flu masks had been reported by all the national news organisations, including the BBC. As both Ros and Lucas knew, the latter would almost certainly have done so in defiance of subtle government hints that it report something more 'appropriate' – like a nice, uncontroversial royal visit somewhere.
"Never does any harm to take the piss," Callaghan added cheerfully, as he helped Penny from the back of the car. "Lot easier to topple a granite statue when you don't believe it's heavy." He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Hope your dad's doing better, Penny. Alice and Miranda are looking forward to seeing you tonight. Seven fifteen, James!" He waved, James and Penny returned the gesture as the car sped off back towards the river, and then James put his arm round Penny's waist.
"Are you OK to go and contact them then, sweetheart?" Do you think there's any likelihood he's got someone watching us?
"Yes. I – I'll be fine." No problem. Lucas had assumed the same; Callaghan couldn't have known beforehand that this was where they were coming, since he and Ros hadn't been planning on doing so before his unexpected appearance.
"Good." Despite the confirmation, he stayed in character as they walked back down the street. You never know. "Pen, I was thinking it might be a bit difficult to Skype. You know – talking about your dad's business out loud in public. He'd hate that, wouldn't he? Perhaps we could try messaging them instead?"
Penny looked fittingly crestfallen, but Ros nodded. "Yes … yes, he would. I suppose you're right. I just want to make sure he's really OK… and that they're all coping at home."
You and me both, Lucas thought grimly as they entered the café. There was only a smattering of people inside – the spread of smartphones was fast putting internet cafes on an equal footing with the dodo and the dinosaurs – and while Lucas went to pay, Ros slid onto a bench with her back against the wall, ensuring that she had a clear view of the room and no-one could sneak a peep at her screen. When Lucas joined her, she was already typing. Before he could say anything, she murmured "read". He glanced at the screen as he pulled up a chair.
Just bugged the car. Device down side of back cushion right seat.
Bloody hell. In his shock, Lucas almost sat down on thin air. As far as he'd known, the bugs were were still hidden in the flat. Thanks for letting me know. Better late than never. So much for working together. He felt a spurt of anger at her high-handedness, and at the risk she'd taken. Quickly, he stamped on it. Risk was unavoidable, and after all, he'd emerged from his meeting with Khalida convinced that they needed to move more quickly. Anyway, Ros was the senior officer, and operational decisions fell to her, as she'd no doubt remind him were he to complain.
"OK!" As James smiled affectionately, she deleted the words from the screen and logged in Penny's name into the e-mail account that Callum had set up for them.
Mum, it's Penny. Jamie says Dad hasn't been well, but he didn't have many details. I'm so worried. What went wrong? Is he all right now? Is he still in the hospital? If you're there, can you come on Messenger? Pen
She dispatched the e-mail to the address they'd been given. Within seconds the computer made a gulping sound like a draining sink and a message bubble appeared. Hello, darling, it's so good to hear from you. You mustn't worry. It seems like it's the same old problem, I'm afraid. Your Dad had some old friends drop by, and it happened then. This time it was quite a strong attack, but it's been dealt with it very well, and his condition's been stabilised now, I promise. Everything's back to normal.
What caused it? Ros typed.
The doctors don't seem very sure yet, lovey. Ros's eyebrows knotted at the term 'lovey', and despite the seriousness of the exchange, Lucas couldn't quite stifle a smile. There was only one member of the team who would dare to address Ros, even an undercover Ros at a safe distance, like that. Today's duty 'Mum' was Callum Reid. They seem to think there might be still some leakage again … something about that butterfly procedure they did on him before. These things are all a bit Chinese to me, but they're reviewing how it works and they seem quite sure they can give it an overhaul, make some adjustments or something. Daddy's been a bit tetchy about it, but Cousin Tom's been such a help; you know how good he is at managing Daddy when there's a problem.
But are they sure it won't happen again, Mum? Where is he - still in the hospital?
They took him to A & E when the attack happened, darling, but he's been moved now. Such a nice place, all shipshape and Bristol fashion. The doctors are having a good chat with him about it, to make sure there won't be a recurrence, and they seem quite happy. When they get to the bottom of what happened, I'll tell you, I promise. In the meantime, Tom and Eliza are right on top of everything, so you really mustn't worry about us. Internal examination hasn't found anything else that's worrying so far, but if they do, we'll let you know. This kind of thing happens as we get older, and you and Jamie have enough on your plates right now. You concentrate on doing what you have to at your end; that's the best way you can help us. We'll be fine. Now tell me, how's progress with you two?
Ros filled in the remaining few minutes of time Lucas had purchased with innocuous but genuine-sounding chit-chat about the children, James's job-hunting and the 'new friends' he and she were making. When they got up to leave her face was grimly set, and it took her a few seconds to mould her features into Penny's usual expression of sad anxiety. As he stepped outside and held the door for her, Lucas unobtrusively checked the street for anyone who appeared to be loitering for no apparent reason or showing an uncalled-for interest in Netquick. He sensed Ros doing the same, and he wasn't surprised when it was she, not Penny, who spoke.
"How the hell did that happen?" she hissed venomously.
I wish I bloody well knew. Lucas had mentally 'translated' Callum's answers into clear language as they came up on the screen – Jocelyn Myers's safe-house had been attacked, the Grid suspected the as yet unidentified 'Kallima' had obtained the information about its location but couldn't be sure how. Myers had been moved to a new location, and MI-5 was grilling him and Tom Quinn for further details about what had happened and how. And Internal Security had found no trace of infiltration on the Grid … yet. The concluding few lines could, he thought wryly, could have been neatly condensed into a five-word personal message to them – Get A Bloody Move On!
"Leak at or through Transatlantic?" he suggested at last. Penny had taken James's arm, and their heads were close together as they talked. "Could Kallima be one of their people?"
Ros tensed as a man just ahead of them stooped to re-tie his shoelaces. Once he had overtaken them again, she said softly, "No. No way. Quinn's far too much of a professional, and Harry knows him inside out. Besides, he'd done forensic background checks on all his people; didn't you say you went through them together?"
"Yeah." With a sinking heart, Lucas remembered something else. "Yeah, and besides, your – Zagadka - warned us about Kallima being 'one of yours' before we even contacted Transatlantic. Shit."
"Well, I suppose Quinn was one of ours not so long ago," Ros said. She shrugged, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself, and Lucas shook his head dubiously. He couldn't believe that Tom Quinn was working both sides of the street. The man struck him as having far too much moral integrity for that, and he said as much. Ros pursed her lips, and Penny pointed at something in a nearby toyshop window. As they both peered in, simultaneously checking the reflection of the street behind them in the glass, she muttered fiercely: "Yeah, well it was his bloody moral integrity that got him decommissioned. Get an attack of conscience once, it can happen again… Maybe. God. I don't know." The vehemence in the hissed expletive told him just how worried she was.
"I think we have to face it. Whatever the plumbers say, he's inside, somewhere." Maybe even one of them? Lucas said the words reluctantly, because he knew that Ros was as desperate as he was for that not to be true. To her, Tom Quinn, an ex-MI-5 officer dismissed for 'going soft', would be a far more acceptable candidate for 'Kallima'.
A growing smell of frying fish signalled that they were almost back at base. Ros sighed heavily. "Yeah. Quinn's the sole outsider to have known the location. What?" as Lucas stared at her in sudden alarm. "What's the matter with you?"
Providentally, the traffic lights changed, giving him a second to collect himself. Is he, though? That bloody phone call. He'd never got to the bottom of it. Did you tell Mummy where Daddy was?
"Nothing." He knew it was unconvincing, and Ros's expression confirmed it. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Lucas bluffed with a half-truth. "It's just - well, only the three of us knew. On the Grid. And you and I – we've been together the whole time."
For a second, Ros's face froze. Then, just as suddenly, her expression flipped to one of shock as intense as that he'd just felt. "Not three, Lucas. Four. Four of us."
James. He didn't correct her, because his own field protocol had slipped as much as hers; he had stopped walking altogether, and irritated passers-by were swerving around them as they stood, staring at each other.
Ruth.
oOoOoOo
Lucas gnawed at his lip as he mechanically washed the dishes from their re-heated spaghetti Bolognese lunch. Ros had eaten very little, and afterwards she had claimed fatigue, curled up on the bed and gone to sleep. Lucas had propped himself up against the grubby headboard, chewing his thumb in silence and trying to put his whirling thoughts into some kind of order. His instinct had been to dismiss Ros's mention of Ruth as a candidate for Kallima out of hand. For one thing, the analyst was the worst person on the entire Grid at dissembling; she had neither the nerve nor the cunning for it, and would surely have given herself away months ago. And the very idea of Ruth, of all people, engaging in subversion was utterly laughable. Membership of Cambridge CND in your twenties did not a lifelong revolutionary make. Like many officers she disapproved of the government's austerity policy because of its wider social impact, but a mild, anonymous letter of protest to the Times would be the summit of any open challenge to the system Ruth might make. Even then she'd probably seek official permission before she posted it.
Ludicrous. Courtesy of Jo Portman's habit of indulging in office gossip, of which even Ros's strongest reprimands had failed to break her, Lucas knew about Ruth's passing confidential reports on the Section's activities back to her former employers at GCHQ in her early days. Malcolm had told him of an incident in which she had once developed an attraction to and pursued, the subject of a telephone tap. The analyst was as susceptible to human flaws and professional pressures as any other officer, but still … she surely couldn't carry this kind of deception off while living in daily intimacy with the Head of Section. And Ros – he glanced round as he heard her emerge from the bathroom and head back into the main room – Ros could not be relied on to judge Ruth impartially. She tried, he'd give her that, but it was always difficult for her to give the analyst the benefit of any doubt, and her fearful jealousy of the influence of 'Harry's rose-tinted blind-spot' since her wedding would make it more so.
And yet. That didn't necessarily mean her suspicions were wrong. And if Ruth were involved somehow, the 'rose-tinted blind spot' argument could work both ways. Just as Ros might jump to that conclusion, so Harry would be equally likely to refuse point-blank to entertain any such suspicions even if he were presented with evidence that was cast-iron, watertight and pure gold.
Lucas groaned as he rinsed the last plate. Shit, what a sickening, paranoia-inducing mess. The harder you tried to dissipate the fog of suspicion and mistrust the thicker it grew. The fact remained that Ruth had known about Myers's whereabouts; in fact, in her role as liaison, she probably knew more details of Transatlantic's op than anyone. She could have betrayed it, but why would she? Harry couldn't have been the culprit; every fibre in Lucas rebelled at that prospect. He knew it wasn't himself, which left the only other really credible option ... Ros. Nye dai bog.
He turned towards the kitchen door to see her standing there watching him. If you think there's anything to be concerned about, you will immediately report back. Did that 'anything' include outrageous suspicions that she might be double-dipping between MI-5 and Crisis Crusade – suspicions that might well have no foundation? Hell, how could he do that to her? Along with Harry he was possibly the only person in the world Ros Myers really trusted. What had she said? I thought you were on my side.
"James?" He felt as if that steady gaze was reading his mind as much as his face. "Are you ready? We should go soon."
"Coming, Pen." He smiled, and kissed her cheek. "You look pretty."
Ros shot him a look that could have frozen the hot water he'd just washed up in, and said with just enough sincerity to convince any wiretaps that might be lurking unnoticed, "Thank you, darling, but this is all old stuff."
"You still look lovely. You needed that sleep." He was speaking more as much to Ros as to Penny; despite the nap, she still looked tired, and he guessed that unspoken concern about her father – her real father – was dragging her down. "Now, Alex is right; this will do us good too." Penny shrugged without enthusiasm, and he gave her arm an encouraging shake. "Come on Pen. Alex and the others understand how we feel; they've been through the kind of thing that's happened to us – lost jobs, lost home -"
"Lost family," Penny added miserably.
Which one? Instantly, Lucas dismissed the wayward thought, and James answered firmly: "Exactly. I don't know about you, but I'm fed up with being slapped in the face and obediently turning the other cheek so that someone can smack that one as well. Wouldn't you like to try and do something about it all, Pen, instead of just taking the shit all the time, hoping some bloody Lady Bountiful somewhere will take pity and dole us out enough to get back on our feet again? Take charge and change something?"
"Of course I would, Jamie! You know I'd do anything - anything that would give us the children back! But how? What are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know." He switched the lights off and opened the front door. "But I think Crisis Crusade might." In the sickly light cast by the fly-speckled light fitting in the stairwell, Ros briefly opened her palm, and he glimpsed their two remaining listening devices nestling there. They exchanged silent nods. "Let's go and find out."
oOoOoOo
It was a warm evening, but when Ros turned left to begin the walk to Hersham, Lucas seized her arm.
"Pen, look, there's a bus coming. It'll be a lot quicker."
She looked at him, puzzled. "But Jamie - "
With a quick smile, he cut her off. "Let's treat ourselves. Just for once. We'll walk back."
Penny didn't argue, but as the almost empty bus rattled and bumped its way down Hersham Road, Lucas could feel Ros looking quizzically at him. He kept his head slightly averted and his gaze on the passing streets. Just as they turned off the main road, he felt her slender hand slip into his.
"Here. One each." She dropped the delicate, stiletto-like listening device into his palm. "Whichever of us gets the opportunity first." She closed his fingers in a fist over it, and after a beat, added very deliberately: "And I'm perfectly all right. Lucas."
He nodded compliantly. He didn't believe her, but the tightrope they were about to walk was not one either of them would relish falling off, and this was no time to have a spat and get distracted from the job in hand. He let the silence continue so that both could focus and prepare themselves mentally for the next couple of hours. As they were walking up the path to the small, neat red brick vicarage whose windows were glowing warmly in the twilight, he smiled down at her.
"Ready to walk into the lion's den, sweetheart?"
She looked, he thought, more as if she would like to throw him in it, but she managed an answering smile. "Yes, I -I think so. Bit nervous, though ... I -" Unexpectedly, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I'm so glad you're here, I wouldn't want to do this on my own."
Lucas barely had the time to be startled by such an uncharacteristic, open expression of apprehension when the reason for it, which Ros's sharp eyes had spotted in the shadows of the building, became apparent. Miranda Callaghan detached herself from the wall against which she had been leaning and smoking a cigarette. She nodded to James, and gave Penny a hug.
"Good to see you both; we thought you might not make it when Alex told us about your Dad." The words drifted back to Lucas as she put an arm round Penny's shoulder and guided her indoors. "Did you get good news?"
Not exactly, Lucas thought wryly. He slid the bug deep into his trouser pocket, silently prayed that the lions had been recently fed, and followed the two women into the vicarage.
oOoOoOo
Thank you for your patience and for still reading! Reviews much appreciated! :)