Chapter 2

It was a couple of weeks after the 'fiasco' that Cowley was eventually satisfied. There was much to be pleased about after all. They had not only broken an arms gang, but also the growth of a new human trafficking route had been nipped in the bud. The agents up north had rounded up some top people, too. If the Ministers had pounced on Cowley, they were now eating humble pie. Sensing his boss's lighter mood, Bodie decided on a bit more pushing, even though his boss was looking a little more relaxed.

"So when's this holiday, then?" Bodie asked cheekily once alone in the office at the end of a long day.

"And what holiday is this, Bodie? I don't remember giving you a holiday? I may be over the hill, but my mind's still active."

"No way you're over the hill, sir. And it's not my holiday - though one would be appreciated [Bodie never was one to miss an opportunity!] - but yours. You haven't had one in ages. You can't go on forever. You're telling us not to burn ourselves out …"

"Bodie, has Doyle ever told you that you nag? Surprising as it may sound, I have taken on board your earlier words of wisdom. Wisdom is so rare in your case, that I thought I should take a look at it and not just dismiss it!"

Bodie smiled. If a bit of gentle ribbing would win Cowley round, Bodie was prepared to put up with it. He waited.

"Much as I would enjoy taking a break from his place," the Controller swung his hand round his office, "and much more would I enjoy taking a break from that ugly mug of yours, I've decided to do one but not the other."

Bodie waited for any of this to make sense.

"You may remember that I mentioned that Doyle can cripple himself sometimes with the emotional baggage he drags round?"

Bodie nodded. He knew Doyle was upset about the casualties at the warehouse.

"You have a small knapsack yourself, you know." This was news to Bodie, but he let it go. "So I thought a short break would do us all good."

Bodie hoped sincerely that he was wrong about his interpretation. He tried to keep his emotions in neutral as fear tore at his vitals. Surely his boss wasn't suggesting that they all go on holiday together?! Cowley was certainly looking smug, and that secret smile was playing havoc with his lips. That was always a bad and dangerous sign. Bodie remained quiet, not trusting his voice to betray him. Nonetheless, Cowley was cute.

"Don't looked so shocked, Bodie. I'm only suggesting an overnight stay. Not doing anything Wednesday and Thursday of next week are you?"

Bodie knew such questions about his social life usually had hidden meanings. Bodie shook his head mutely.

"Good," Cowley purred. "Pack a bag - and tell Doyle to do the same."

So they were all going on a bloody holiday!

"Where are we gong, sir?"

"Well, that remains to be seen. You said I needed a break."

"Yeah, but I'm fine and Ray's just been on sick leave so he's ok and raring to go."

"Good. I'm glad he's keen to go."

Cowley was twisting his words and not listening to the panic in his operative's voice. The smile was still there as Cowley returned to his paperwork. Bodie knew when he'd been dismissed and he got up to leave. Doyle would not thank him for this - though he couldn't for the life of him see how he'd gone from suggesting that his boss take a holiday, to them all playing mummies and daddies at the seaside - or wherever it was that blasted Cowley wanted to send them. Still, only for a couple of days. He'd emphasise that to Doyle when he broke the news to him - a public place would be the best thing where Doyle couldn't explode with quite so much force!

Wednesday approached and Doyle was still seething. He didn't believe Bodie's version of events. He knew Bodie was close to the Old Man - closer than any of them - but taking a holiday together… Doyle would never live it down. During one of his 'suicidal tendencies', Doyle had considered throwing himself under a bus but felt that dramatic gestures wouldn't be appreciated. He had to bite the bullet. He still didn't know where he was going, and wasn't sure whether to believe Bodie's ignorance either. They were to meet at Paddington in the (very) early morning. Cowley looked so relaxed when Doyle met him on the concourse that he wondered whether to suggest that his boss didn't need a break after all. Doyle threw Bodie a thunderous look when he turned up and they boarded a train for Cornwall.

After a few attempts at stilted conversations, Cowley got up to stretch the legs and came back and settled down again with a book. Doyle still wasn't much on speaking terms with his partner and he too got out a book. Bodie went to the buffet bar. There was better company there with total strangers. This was going to be a fun couple of days! They eventually got off at the terminus, Penzance. Cowley took them in a taxi to a pleasant B & B. The boss had a single room and his agents had a twin with a balcony overlooking the sea. Bodie didn't like sharing but was trying to look on the bright side to ease Doyle into a better mood.

"Could be worse," he said, testing the springs on the mattress. "He could have booked a family room - or a double."

Doyle said nothing, and opened the French windows onto the balcony. Immediately the sound of the sea and the mew of gulls could be heard. A sharp tang of sea air filled the pleasant room. Despite his tetchiness with Bodie, Doyle began to relax for the first time since his partner had broken the news to him of a 'family' holiday. There was a table and chairs on the balcony and Doyle sat on one and put his feet up on another. He lifted his face to the sun. This might, after all, be not a bad holiday. Bodie didn't know whether his presence would be appreciated but he had brought a placatory bottle of wine to the party. He had planned to bring it out on the way down, but the icy atmosphere had been far from right. He plonked himself down on a spare chair and Doyle only opened his eyes when he heard the gentle gurgle of liquid. Bodie smiled at him, pushing the wine towards him tentatively.

"I am sorry about all this, Ray. I swear to you …"

"It's all right. I believe you. Put your hair shirt away. It doesn't suit you. So what do we do about Cowley? We can't stay here all day and, besides, it would be rude. I don't know who's paying for all this, but it is generous of him to bring us down here."

Unknown to his operatives - who should have known better - Cowley's room was directly below theirs and he had a ringside seat on their conversations (should he be impolite enough to want to eavesdrop!). Curiosity got the better of him and he settled himself quietly on the balcony with a cup of tea and a 'wee nip'. (Like Bodie, he'd brought his own supplies.)

"Well, unless he's got plans …"

"I'd be surprised if he hasn't. He's probably got an army of sleepers here he wants to activate."

Cowley chuckled at Doyle's imagination. He'd noticed on the train that his agent's novel was a spy thriller.

"Let's go and find out shall we," Bodie said with finality.

They finished their glass of wine in a more companionable silence. When Doyle came through into the room, he noticed that Bodie had moved his pillow from one end of his bed to the other. Doyle smiled but said nothing. For an army man, Bodie was undoubtedly shy in certain areas. Doyle phoned down to reception for Cowley's room number.

"Six," Doyle said to Bodie's unasked question and they headed off to find it.

It didn't escape the operatives' notice that his room was directly below theirs. They quickly reviewed that they'd said on the balcony. With relief, they didn't recall anything derogatory.

"Er, Doyle and I were thinking of exploring the town, sir. Would you like to come?"

"That's very kind, Bodie. But I had other plans for us, if you don't mind."

"We're in your hands," Doyle said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

They trooped back towards the train station and caught a bus that sent them, and a crowd of other tourists, on an excursion along a pretty coastal route. They all got out at a picture postcard village called Marazion. Everyone, apart from Bodie and Doyle, seemed to know where they were going.

"Onwards," Cowley said happily as they followed a line of tourists walking along a causeway, looking for all the world like a straggling army of displaced refugees.

It was a very pleasant walk. The sea breeze was keeping the temperature down and the cry of gulls and sough of sea was very relaxing. Ahead was their destination - St Michael's Mount - a site of pilgrimage for centuries. Once they'd come to the end of the easy, flat walk to the island, the climbing began to the church on top of the steep hill. Cowley had been giving them a little history of the island as they'd walked along the causeway and, despite their earlier reservations, the agents were now getting into the holiday spirit.

"Pilgrims certainly like to make life difficult for themselves," gasped Bodie as they climbed ever higher, passing by the relics of less able tourists who had thought they were fitter than they actually were.

"Out of breath?" Cowley was going to add '3.7', but remembered in time where he was. He tried not to sound out of breath himself, but failed badly. Doyle said nothing, but continued to worry about Cowley's heart and blood pressure as he plodded doggedly onwards.

The line of eager tourists had thinned out to a determined straggle of the fittest as they made the final ascent. The church at the top and the vista was certainly worth the effort. They all communed in silence, taking in the wonderful view of sea and coast that stretched for miles and miles around them. No wonder the pilgrims and the builders of this magnificent church had thought it all worth the effort. They eventually went inside and were grateful for its coolness. Cowley said nothing, but allowed his agents to wander around the church at will and take in the beauty and serenity of this very special place. Cowley had been here before and had found it a balm to his, then, troubled soul when he'd come back from combat in his younger days. He had vowed then to return here. He had thought it would be with a wife, but that blessing had not been granted to him. This pair would have to do for now! He knew them not to be religious but even an atheist would be awed by this place, and so they were. After wandering about for some time admiring the stained glass, the paintings and icons, they sat in separate pews with their own thoughts. Cowley sat at the back observing them and making his peace with God. He felt well blessed. He hoped that these special men would also find peace. He recalled the end of a poem which Doyle had thought enough of to frame and keep in his bedroom - 'Be at peace with God, whatever you perceive him to be'.

Bodie got up first after some time and made his way outside without saying anything, though he must have seen Cowley sat in the shadows. Doyle followed five minutes later and paused at Cowley's pew, wondering whether to disturb. Cowley looked him in the eye and smiled encouragingly.

"Thank you, sir," Doyle said simply before making his own way out slowly. Cowley followed moments later.

"A special place, sir," Bodie said softly to Cowley and his partner. It seemed that he was still in the throes of its magic.

"Aye. I was hoping you'd feel its peace." Cowley slid an arm over each man's shoulder and looked out to sea with his memories in the far distance.

Eventually Doyle said, "I had thought it a pity that you didn't tell us where we were going, sir. I would have brought my paints. But I know now that I could never capture this, or even begin to touch its atmosphere. It's wonderful."

They stayed on the Mount for the rest of the day, drinking in its healing atmosphere and watching the sun set over the horizon to the constant drone of surf and seagulls. Cowley knew now that it had been right to bring them here. He hoped that if they had an ache that a doctor couldn't reach, they could come here and heal themselves, as he had done all those years ago.