Chapter 12: Mum

Mark followed Harry around the building, interested. However, he got extremely excited when Harry took him to the Grid, thinking that the pods were one of the neatest ideas they came up with.

"I'm not supposed to be taking you back here," Harry said.

"Blindfold me," Mark suggested sarcastically. "I promise, I won't look at your papers."

Harry rolled his eyes and led him into an office.

"Impressive that you're head honcho."

"Yeah, well after you died, they brought someone else in and he died within the year. After that they promoted me."

"What about Danny?"

"I can't tell you that, sorry, mate."

Mark just shrugged. "That's why I got out of here. Too many damn lies."

"Your entire life is."

"Sarah doesn't care. And as long as she continues not to, then it'll be 'real'."

"You wanted to ring her."

Mark nodded. "I want to tell her what's going on. Why, your lackeys will be bugging our house in a few minutes. And I want to tell her exactly what's going on."

"It's a matter of national security!"

Mark just glared at Harry, who sighed. "No, I'm not telling you what she's in trouble for, Mark...Arthur."

"You're going to let me talk to her though?"

"Yes. I'm surprised though. Last I knew, you were saying that you had no parents at all."

"That's the amazing thing about being sixteen years older and getting hit by a few cars. You gain perspective. Now do I get to phone Sarah or do I have to force you to let me?"

"First, you have to sign the Statute."

Mark sighed. "Seriously? I did that ages ago, Harry. You know that!"

"No," Harry replied. "Mark Evans signed it. Arthur Newton did not.

Mark glared, but Harry just shrugged. "New person, new form," he stated simply.

Mark sighed, signing his name on the form Harry presented. "Now can I ring Sarah?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Right now, my officers have gone over to bug your house. You don't tell her you've been bugged. Don't tell her that your mother's a political prisoner."

"But I tell her everything. When the foundation of your marriage is built on a lie, you've got to remain pretty truthful otherwise."

Harry merely shook his head. "Nothing. You can say that she was arrested, but that's it. You don't know what for anyway, so we are okay there."

Mark glared at Harry.

"If you don't agree Arthur, I can't let you out of this room."

Mark looked at Harry, studying him. The years had given him a tired appearance, but that wouldn't be obvious to someone who didn't know him in his prime. His face was more lined with grief and sorrow, but his eyes were hard. Mark could tell that Harry was hiding his emotions and he felt distinctly uncomfortable at the thought. He wanted to know how Harry was feeling towards him being alive, but knew that he would never be able to know.

"You can visit with your Mum and then you can ring your wife," Harry said stoically. Mark nodded stiffly, and Harry stood, letting Mark follow him out from the grid to an interrogation room. As the door opened, Mark looked at his Mum. She was sitting defiantly, her shoulders back, her chin jutted out. However, when she saw him, her whole demeanour changed. She looked broken, defeated.

Mark nodded once and sat down across from her. "Mum." He could hear the coldness in his tone, but didn't care, even as she flinched at it.

"How?" she whispered. "Sixteen years I've been going to your grave..."

"Fake funeral," Mark replied in a tone just as cold as before.

"Mark, I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry."

"Not really though, are you? I mean, here you are, in trouble with the government. You would have thought you'd learnt your lesson when those men demanded blood since one of their own got killed. You would have thought you'd learnt your lesson when they tried to take your son away. You would have thought you'd learnt your lesson when instead of your son, they killed your husband. All because of you."

"Mark, I couldn't say no! They would have killed me!"

"Did you go to them, or did they go to you?"

His mother remained silent, tears starting to appear in her eyes. Mark stared at her silently, knowing the answer.

"Going to them makes it your fault that you couldn't say no. And now you've lost any sympathy I would have had for you. You know, this morning, I came to your home to try and reconcile things. And now, we're prisoners of the government."

He shook his head at her disgustedly. "You know, there's nothing else to really say. It's a good thing my mother died back in 1980."

"Mark, don't say that!"

He stared at her icily. "My name isn't Mark," he said shortly. "It's Arthur Newton, and I don't have a clue who you are. Get me out of here!" he yelled at the door.

The door opened and Harry held it as Mark walked out, not even turning to look at his mother one last time.

"My own fucking mother," he said, spitting the words out. "Gets my father killed for money and then now, she's involved in something else. God, why did I have to have such shit parents?"

Harry looked at a loss for words and patted Mark's shoulder awkwardly before speaking. "You...you can ring Sarah now."

Mark nodded stiffly. "Where's a phone?" Harry led to him to a phone, and Mark picked it up, looking at his old friend.

"Are they still bugging the house?"

"They're not back yet. It's a good chance they are."

Mark nodded and punched the numbers to Sarah's cell phone. She answered after the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Sare, it's Ma...Arthur." He cursed the slip of his tongue. Being called Mark all day, talking about that man all day had reversed what he had carefully constructed for sixteen years.

"Arthur, what's going on? Why did you almost use that name?"

He sighed into the phone. She didn't miss anything. "I had to bring up my old identity."

"Why?!" Sarah sounded concerned, and he didn't blame her.

"You wanted me to see my Mum. Halfway through our meeting, we were arrested. I had to tell them my old name because that was what Mum was referring to me as." A lie. He hated lying to Sarah.

"Oh my god. Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?"

Mark shook his head before remembering he was on the phone. "No. I'm almost out of here. I'll be home soon."

"I don't know if the street will be open when you get there. They blocked off the street because of a supposed gas leak. Everyone was evacuated. I'm over at Ben's with Nero. He and Danielle have invited us to stay for dinner."

"I'll go to Ben's then."

"I'll see you soon then. You can tell me more in person."

"Sounds great," he said.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, Sare." He hung up the phone and sighed heavily, looking up at Harry. "Can I leave yet?"

"Only a few more questions."

Mark put his face in his hands, feeling drained. "What more do you need to know?"

"After all these years, why did you seek her out? You've...Mark...has been dead for sixteen years."

"Sarah knew the story but wanted me to try. I kept having dreams about my father...my real father, telling me to go see her. I hope I have the dream again so I can go punch him in the sodding face."

Harry nodded, pausing to inhale before his second question. "Why didn't you let Danny tell me you were alive?"

"I didn't tell him specifics Harry. Danny acted on his own discretion there. Best only him and his superiors. Surely you can see that, being head now?"

Harry seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "You're right. If...what name was the senior officer using?"

"Matthew."

"Right. If Matthew wanted to die off, I wouldn't tell..."

"Sophie and Danny," Mark supplied.

Harry frowned. "Danny used that name?"

"You mean his real one? No. He used Jaime or something, but I mentioned our Danny and he jumped."

Harry sighed.

"He's new," Mark said. "Give him a chance."

"He's got promise, but slips like that..."

"Are normal. Jesus, are you not remembering my last case? All it was was a giant slip up."

"Have you seen Alex since?"

Mark smiled. "Once. When Sarah and I were on holiday in 1985. She looked so much happier. We left her alone, don't worry."

Harry smiled. "You'll have to forgive me for asking. Last I remembered, you were obsessed with her."

Mark nodded. "You're right, of course. She clouded my judgement. Hence why I'm sitting on this side of the table, and you're section head."

"Oi," Harry said, but there was no real fire in the statement.

Mark smirked, leaning back in his chair. "I'd ask you how your life is going, but I can't, Spooky man. Well, I can, but you can't tell me."

Harry smiled at Mark, seeming to hold back a laugh. "You're right of course. I can't tell you much at all. We'll just say that being a Spook has been a completely number one priority in my life and that the rest of my life has been affected by it."

"So it's shit, then."

Harry smirked and stood. "And with that, Arthur Newton, our time together comes to a close. Please remember that you've signed that paper and cannot tell Sarah about anything discussed here today."

Mark saluted. "Yes sir."

"Oh, how I've missed your sarcasm. Get your arse out of here."

"One small problem. I have no idea how to get out. This wasn't exactly where Mark Evans worked in the eighties."

"You're right of course. I'll show you out."

Mark followed Harry out of the building, riding the Tube back to his mother's house, where his car was still parked outside. He drove to the shop, which Ben and Danielle still lived above, with their daughter, Emma. Emma was only just two years old, but seemed like she was going to be brilliant for her age. She had inherited her mother's dark eyes, but her hair was a whitish-blonde. Mark knew that didn't mean she had taken after Ben however. Her hair could very well grow darker as she grew older, much as his did.

He simply walked into the flat upstairs, where Emma was entranced by Sarah and a teddy bear, and Ben was standing in the kitchen, holding a cup of tea, watching with a smile on his face. All heads turned to the door as he walked in.

"Papa!" Emma cried as he walked in, and ran to him as fast as her stubby little legs would take her. He picked her up and swung her in the air, making her giggle happily. She wrapped her little arms around his neck, hugging him. "Hi Papa."

"Hello," Mark responded, smiling even though she couldn't see him. All these years, he had never thought he would be a grandfather. Then a little under three years ago, Ben and Danielle had come over, enormous grins on their faces.

The pride Mark had felt when Ben made the announcement was only comparable to the pride he had felt when he had become a spook, but it far surpassed even that moment. Ben had really become like a son to him over the years, a son and a friend, and he was delighted.

He had fallen in love with Emma the moment they had first seen her, sleeping quietly in her mother's arms. After that, Emma frequented their house to stay the night when her parents just needed some time alone.

"Yes," Ben said, clearly speaking to his daughter. "You've stayed up until Papa got here, but now it's naptime."

"Daddy!"

Mark shook his head. "You listen to your Daddy, Emma. I'll be here when you wake up."

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and pouted. "Promise?"

Mark nodded, setting her down on the ground. "Now go get Mr. Tiddles and go take your nap."

Emma nodded, waddling through the room, collecting the bear and then back to her father, who took her to her bed.

"Hey," Sarah said, smiling and walking over to Mark. She kissed him.

"Hey back," he smiled.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's Mum that isn't."

"What was she involved in?"

"Dunno for certain, but whatever it was means that she's probably not going to see the outside of her jail cell for the rest of her life."

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Sarah said, her arms around him.

"Don't be," he replied gruffly. "She was Mark Evans' mother, not mine. And Mark Evans has been dead for sixteen years."