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Authors: J.E. Moncrieff

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BOOK: The Tower Grave
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“Why are you talking like that?” Holly asked as her eyes filled with tears. “You’re not going to die or anything, are you?”

             
“No, Hol, I’m not. But if anything happens, just know I would never take a risk of losing you, or you losing me, unless I had no choice. And in this I have no choice. This is for us; in the long run at least. Now don’t be upset, it will be fine, and it’s only for a day. Let’s just spend some time together, eh?”

             
Together the three of them walked across the road outside their house and down to the estuary seafront and beach where they watched the kite-surfers ride the air as though they were puppets lifted and dropped by God. They walked for hours in the evening sun talking about school and friends while the joggers and cyclists shot past in their haste. With the days at their longest, they stayed out until the air turned cooler then spent the rest of the evening together at their favourite Italian restaurant nearby. While they were out, Sophie sat in her bedroom looking through the divorce paperwork she had prepared for the next time she saw John. Caught by the unexpected prospect of losing him forever and the emotions that came with it, she slowly put them back into their envelope and replaced them in her drawer. ‘They could wait,’ she thought as she blew through her cheeks and pushed the drawer closed.

             
Later as the four of them said goodbye, John struggled to hold a strong face to ease the parting and was thankful that Steve had remained at work. The children wept gently as they shared a cuddle; then as he turned to Sophie, she leant forward, kissed him once on the lips and smiled, her eyes glistening.

             
“Take care of yourself, ok?” she asked. “These kids need you.”

             
He nodded and backed down the path onto the road, watching them as he went. Smiling one more time, he turned away in the now dark street and began the two mile walk to his flat, his life changing forever.

 

 

 

 

 

Four

 

June 4
th
2014

             
It was the hottest day of the year so far as John put on his
Ray-Ban
aviators and drove through the Essex villages out towards Bradwell and the training site. He smiled to himself as he glanced in the rear view mirror. Sophie had always mocked his ‘Top Gun’
Ray-Bans
as she called them, but he’d loved them for years and since her approval the previous night, he finally felt like a free man. It was the first time for a long time, he thought as he smiled and checked out his glasses again.

             
She’d finished their marriage because of his work, and the entire time he’d continued working he’d allowed himself to feel guilty for not making the effort. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. For two years he’d been alone, holding on to the idea that they may re-unite; but she’d moved on and he knew it. She’d met skinny Steve, the kids were happy, and he should be happy that way too. Somehow her approval of the job allowed him to realise that it was truly over. He could handle that, he thought, now that he knew it to be so. He reached down and turned up the radio in his eight year old Ford Mondeo, making a mental note that he needed a new car as soon as possible. He smiled again as excitement shot through him and with a shout of childish glee he put his foot down to accelerate through the country lanes.

             
It wasn’t long before he passed the famous Bradwell Power Station and drove through along the coast, following Derek’s directions to the farm he would live in.

             
“Nine forty five,” he said to himself with satisfaction as he pulled in to the winding lane to towards the house. His arrival time was scheduled for ten-thirty but he had wanted to be early. It wasn’t that he felt he had to be a ‘first in, last out’ kind of boss; but on this occasion he wanted to set an example and get a measure of his team as they arrived one at a time. He finally turned into the long, dusty driveway of ‘Tolkley Farm’ as it was sign-posted and pulled up in front of a large farmhouse with what looked like converted stables leading out from it in a long, white-wooden, low outbuilding. The surrounding crop fields looked well-kept, and had at least five or six large barns spread about across them with a number of vehicles sat waiting outside each.

             
He was beginning to feel excited. The stress and thrill of living permanently under another persona with absolutely no second chances for slipping up was an immense challenge and he loved it. Beyond that, he was going to experience the fifteenth century. Who had done that? He was going to time travel, he would live in history and the thought of it was amazing.

             
He stepped up to the thick, oak front door of the house and knocked, glancing around at the huge sand blocks making up the outer wall and listening to the series of bolts and a loud keypad being opened inside.

             
“Hello, Mr Bridge,” said a pretty young woman as she opened the door.

John looked back, lost for words for a moment as he took her in.
She instantly struck him as attractive and he smiled nervously, feeling different in his new ‘free-man’ skin. Possibly in her late twenties, she had straight, blonde hair tied back into a tight pony tail with a neat fringe just below her eyebrows at the front. She was petite and athletic, and wearing what looked like well-fitted horse-riding clothes. John was impressed.

             
“Hi,” he replied, trying to sound confident and cover his moment of silence. “I’m here for Derek Pritchard?”

             
“Yes, of course. Come in,” she said, smiling at him. He thought he noticed her eyes flick down over his body before she turned around but his thoughts were distracted by the grand interior of the farmhouse entrance hall and then by the sight of her as she led the way into the house. The riding had clearly paid off and she walked in a way that accentuated her hips in her jodhpurs. He wondered if she exaggerated the step and if it was his benefit. He smiled again at the thought. Shaking himself, he forced himself to ignore the distractions flying around his head and concentrate on the job at hand; at least for a while.

             
She led him across the large hall and another empty room before opening a final door and looking back.

             
“They’re in there,” she said, politely. “I’m Jane, the riding instructor. I’ll see you around, Mr Bridge?”

             
“Cheers. And, uhm, call me John,” he replied.

             
“Of course, John,” she said, smiling happily, and walked off not looking back.

             
The room through the door, John could see, was very different. It looked like a modern briefing area or classroom with a huge screen at one end of the room and eight single desks in the centre. He recognised three of the four faces immediately and entered the room to greet them.

             
“Morning, Gentlemen,” he said as he stepped down into the room from the raised floor of the main house.

             
“John!” shouted Derek as he looked up. “You remember David and Rich?”

             
“Of course,” he replied, nodding towards them with a smile.

             
David put up his hand, smiling, but Rich jumped up and waved enthusiastically.

             
“Hello, Mr Bridge,” he said, stepping over to John and taking hold of his hand.

             
“Call me John, Rich.”

             
“Okay, okay. Have you met Chris?”

             
“Not yet,” John replied, walking over to the short, slim man he took to be the technical scientist on his team. He looked far too young to risk his life and looked nervous under his thick, strawberry-blonde hair. Nevertheless, he smiled politely back at John. “Nice to meet you, Chris,” John said as he took his hand.

             
“Hi John,” he said in reply, taking off his rectangular glasses for a second and rubbing his nose between what seemed like extremely small eyes.

             
“So you’re our whizz-kid scientist? Are you excited?”

             
“Oh, yes definitely,” he said in a nervous but well-spoken accent. “I’m nervous as hell though.”

             
“Yeah, we all are,” John replied. “We’ll be fine though, I’m sure.”

             
As John turned and shook David’s hand, the door opened behind them and down stepped an attractive woman with light, wavy, blonde hair falling casually over her shoulders. Remembering she was thirty-two, John was surprised to see who must be Charlotte looking a lot younger than he expected and he turned to face her, smiling as the men around him fell silent.

             
“Hi then!” she said enthusiastically in a feminine, high-class, London accent.

             
“Hi,” the men all replied together before Derek broke the following silence by stepping forwards to shake her hand.

             
“Good to see you again, Charlotte,” he said.

             
“And you, Sir,” she replied.

             
“This is the team leader, DI John Bridge,” he continued.

             
“How do you do?” she said, smiling as she shook his hand.

             
“And these are Chris Deacon, your team scientist; Rich Walker, your portal technician; and you’ve met David. Gentlemen,” Derek added, “This is your next team member and surveillance specialist, Charlotte Birch.”

             
She nodded to each with a smile before glowing red and turning back to Derek.

             
“Sorry, Sir,” she added, quietly, “Have you got a toilet? I’m bursting!”

             
Derek chuckled with her and led her back out to the hall, closing the door behind him. John continued to talk to David in an attempt to get to know him before the door opened once more with an explosion of noise.

             
“Wow, have you seen that horse-riding bird? She’s gorgeous!” exclaimed a tall, slim man in his late twenties as he stepped down into the room. “Hi fellas, I’m Jake,” he said confidently, pushing his left hand through his dark hair and extending his right to John and then to the others.

             
“I’m John, nice to meet you,” John replied, smiling at the confidence in the young agent.

             
“Ah, nice to meet you, Boss. And let me guess, David and Rich I’ve met, so you must be Chris.”

             
They all nodded and Chris shook his hand, smiling with awe at his new team mate. John smiled to himself. He thought he was going to like Jake; providing he could keep him under control.

             
The door opened once again.

             
“Wahey!” Jake exclaimed. “Another riding instructor, I’m looking forward to this!”

             
John shut his eyes for a moment and smiled as Charlotte stepped into the room and her faced turned a deep crimson.

“You must be
Jake,” she said, raising her chin defiantly. “I’m your teammate, Charlotte.”

             
“Ah, shit. Sorry mate,” he said sheepishly, turning red himself. “I didn’t mean to, you know, you look so, and out there she was, you know what I mean. Don’t you?”

             
“No worries,” she said, smiling and looking away from him shyly with a hint of embarrassment in her eyes.

             
“So we’re all here? Excellent,” said John, breaking the embarrassment and making a mental note to use the three week course wisely in planning his team management.

             
“Well, seeing as you’re all here,” said Rich, “Follow me and we’ll go through for the induction.” He led them through a door on the far side of the room into another. This time, the room was made up of two cream-coloured walls opposite two sides of large floor to ceiling windows. The spacious room was scattered with coffee tables, a large TV unit and a number of cosy looking sofas seating a group of people who stood as they entered.

             
“Ok,” Rich said. “This is your team of instructors and you already know Derek. If you would introduce yourselves, please, everyone?”

             
John looked at Jane, whom he’d met in the entrance hall, and watched her until her eyes flicked onto his and remained there with a smile as though questioning him for his stare. The instructors introduced themselves one at a time.

             
“Derek Pritchard, Guvnor,” Derek said, smiling.

             
“Jane Chrisp; riding,” said Jane, still looking straight at John who smiled back as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the intense blue stare.

BOOK: The Tower Grave
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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