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Authors: Susan Lewis

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BOOK: The Hornbeam Tree
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‘Oh?’ he responded, sounding intrigued.

‘I’ll email the details,’ she said. ‘Have you spoken to Elliot?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I told him you were with Max. I think he’s expecting your call.’

‘OK. I’ll speak to him when we’re finished here. I’m booked on to the red-eye on Friday, by the way, which gets me in early Saturday morning. Will you be around?’

‘No, I’ll be at Katie’s, and I’ve arranged to see Elliot on Saturday night. We need to talk.’

‘Of course. Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him with you?’

‘Sure.’ She gazed out at the dirty old buildings of Fleet Street, the littered pavements and pale, cross faces of those battling the wind. The world was seeming such an alien place lately, as though she didn’t quite belong.

‘Can I see you on Sunday?’ he asked.

Sunday seemed a long way away. ‘Yes. I’ll come to your apartment,’ she replied.

There was a moment before he said, ‘I know it might be a bit soon for this, but if you want to bring a suitcase …’ He paused again. ‘What I’m saying is, I’m ready to make the commitment.’

Her heart immediately contracted, and as her eyes closed the words seemed to float in front of her, not quite reaching her, but there anyway waiting to be understood and accepted. ‘I’ll call when I’m on my way,’ she said in a whisper.

After she’d rung off she sat with the phone in her lap, gazing out at the City, and wondering how on earth she was going to resolve this when she was in no doubt that she still loved Elliot, but it wasn’t changing the fact that she still wanted to be with Nick.

Sir Christopher Malton was with Michael Dalby at intelligence headquarters on the South Bank of the Thames. Daniel Allbringer and Ronald Platt were in Platt’s office in Washington, where their images were being beamed to the video screen at one end of the darkened conference room in London. All four men were silent as they listened to the recording of Malton’s interview with Laurie Forbes.

When it ended, Malton said, ‘Copies have already been made and are on their way to Washington.’

Allbringer glanced at Platt. ‘I think it’s clear that at least part of the purpose here was to let us know the way Chambers has interpreted the information,’ he said.

Platt nodded. ‘He’s so damned close to the truth that this will have to go right to the top,’ he stated.

‘Of course,’ Dalby responded, ‘which is why it’s a pity Mrs Gough can’t take part in this call.’

‘She’s on the Hill briefing the Senate Intelligence Committee,’ Platt told him, ‘but we all know she’s an advocate of extreme measures, and I don’t think
there’s
much doubt this tape is going to get her clock ticking. She wants Chambers here, in the States, in person. Failing that, she wants him silenced.’

‘Can I respectfully remind you,’ Dalby said, ‘that it was her sanctioning of the raid on Chambers’s apartment and attempt to arrest him that rapidly exacerbated the situation to a point where damage control is already proving extremely difficult. So before we start overreacting again, please let’s stay mindful of the fact that Laurie Forbes made no mention of how the Pakistan connection is facilitating the ultimate goal.’

‘Added to that,’ Malton interjected, ‘is the fact that Chambers still has no way of authenticating those documents.’

‘I’m hearing you, gentlemen,’ Allbringer assured them, ‘I’m just making the point, but now he’s reached these conclusions I’d say the election strategy is shot.’

‘Again, let’s not be hasty,’ Dalby responded.

Platt said, ‘I requested a status update from Special Operations Command on P2 penetration in Pakistan. I’m told they’re in so deep now even their own mothers wouldn’t know them if they came up for air, so I can’t see the mission being aborted.’

‘No-one wants that,’ Dalby assured him.

Allbringer got to his feet, walked out of shot, then back in again. ‘Mrs Gough is already eager to start the press campaign against Chambers,’ he said. ‘We’re still persuading her to hold off for the moment …’

‘You have to,’ Dalby told him. ‘Now that Elliot Russell – and others – are working with him a procedure of discreditation is not the way to go.’

‘So what are you recommending?’ Allbringer enquired.

‘First, that we send another email to Chambers asking him to report to his nearest US embassy.’

‘Which he’s going to ignore, like all the others we’ve sent,’ Allbringer said impatiently. ‘We need to bang it home to him that he’s in danger of seriously compromising national security.’

‘If we do that, we give him an official link to his documents,’ Dalby pointed out. ‘Or at the very least we give them credibility, and as Sir Christopher has already planted the suggestion that they’re false, we need to stay with it. So I’m going to recommend that for the time being we merely keep Chambers and Russell under surveillance …’

Platt came in forcefully. ‘First, we don’t actually know where they are right now, and second, it’s no longer this government’s policy to sit around waiting for the bomb to drop. We need swift and decisive action to thwart all attempts of subversion, which is what this is.’

Though they were all acutely aware that the subversion was being led by an unknown intelligence insider, no-one made reference to it, merely listened to Dalby as he said, ‘We are dealing with some very highly respected journalists here, who, between them, wield enough influence to make it absolutely vital that we get this right. If we don’t the blowback’s going to be impossible to contain. So, I’m going to put my recommendations in an email for the entire committee to consider, and suggest we speak again tomorrow.’

‘Before we end this,’ Allbringer said, ‘we need
more
background on this Russell character. How controllable is he, because we’re not receiving a pleasing picture at this end.’

‘We’ve had some dealings with him in the past, which I’ll add to my email,’ Dalby told him. ‘When he resurfaces, or when we locate him, someone will pay him a visit. I’m also issuing instructions for surveillance to be put on his apartment, his phones and computer, and on the home of Katie Kiernan where Michelle Rowe is still in residence.’

Chapter Fifteen

MICHELLE WAS READING
Laurie’s email as Molly came in the door and plonked her bag on the kitchen table.

‘You’re home early,’ Michelle commented, without looking up.

Molly didn’t respond, merely glanced awkwardly around the kitchen, then looked at Michelle again. ‘Where’s Mum?’ she demanded.

‘She was in the bath, but she might be out by now,’ Michelle answered, still engrossed in the email.

‘So. Did you tell her?’ Molly challenged.

Michelle frowned and after reaching the end of a sentence, finally looked up. ‘You mean about the purse? No. You put it back, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah. Well?’


Well
, you put it back, so I didn’t see any point in upsetting her.’

Molly turned away, and went to jerk open the fridge door.

Watching, as she filled a glass with juice, Michelle said, ‘What did you want the money for?’

‘That is none of your business.’

‘If you’d come to me, I’d have given you what you need.’

Molly shrugged and started to drink.

Michelle sighed. ‘Look, I’m not going to lecture you on the evils of stealing,’ she said, ‘because I know you’re perfectly aware of them. I’d just like you to promise that if you need anything in future, then rather than raiding your mother’s purse you’ll come to me.’

Molly didn’t answer.

‘Do I have the promise?’ Michelle prompted, sensing that behind the mask Molly was torn between asking for money now, and resisting the idea that Michelle would be around in the future.

‘Whatever,’ Molly responded, and picking up her bag she made to push past.

‘Before you go,’ Michelle said, ‘I’ve had some emails and photographs from the children I was working with in the camp. I was wondering if you’d like to see them.’

Molly turned round, clearly surprised by the suggestion, and even seeming to wonder if Michelle had lost her marbles, because why would she be interested in some kids she’d never even met?

‘I told them about you before I left,’ Michelle said, ‘and they’re saying hello.’

Molly glanced down at the computer.

‘Some of them are about your age,’ Michelle went on. ‘I was thinking, maybe you’d like to correspond with one or two, tell them about your life here in England, and find out a bit more about them.’

‘What would I want to do that for?’ Molly retorted. ‘We don’t even speak the same language.’

‘There are translators in the camp.’

Molly shot another quick look at the open laptop, then giving another of her ‘whatever’ shrugs, said, ‘I don’t have time. I’ve got to revise for a maths test,’ and hitching her bag higher on her shoulder she stomped off up the stairs.

Michelle waited for the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, followed by the expected thump of music, then went back to the email, vaguely heartened by the flicker of interest Molly hadn’t quite managed to disguise. It would be an irony indeed, she was thinking as she continued to read, if the Afghan children turned out to be a bridge to her niece. More likely though, it would be Robbie’s indomitable good nature that would finally break down his cousin’s barriers and help to seal a relationship. However, that wasn’t going to happen for a while, because Robbie was still in school, and no decisions had yet been made on when he could come – or how long he might stay. Certainly if Michelle had her way it would happen tomorrow, but for the time being she had to content herself with three or four phone calls a week, and the chirpy little emails he regularly sent.

Even before she reached the end of Laurie’s transcript of the meeting with Malton, her gaze was wandering to the phone. All she had to do was pick it up and dial Tom’s number to hear his voice, but she wouldn’t, because Laurie’s message had included a caution from Elliot that they should keep calls to a minimum now, in number and duration. Though she fully understood Tom’s
reasons
for staying out of sight so that he could deal with Washington in his time rather than theirs, it did nothing to stop her longing to be with him, or to overcome an almost overwhelming need to lean on him the way she had in the past. Today, for some reason, she was finding it much harder to cope with the growing dread of losing Katie than she normally did, and it would be so wonderful to have him to talk to. However, her problems were not his priority right now, and besides, it was no more than a passing depression that she was already feeling ashamed of, because if Katie could find the strength to deal with it day in, day out, with no respite, then so could she.

Sighing, she tore her eyes from the phone, and deciding to go and check on Katie, she printed out the email to take with her, and went upstairs to knock on her sister’s bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked, pushing it open.

‘Yes. Yes of course,’ Katie answered.

‘Laurie’s email has come through,’ Michelle told her. ‘It’s an interesting read. Apparently Tom … Oh, my goodness, what is it?’ she gasped, catching Katie’s reflection in the mirror.

‘Ssh, shh, it’s nothing,’ Katie assured her, dabbing her eyes, and attempting to blow her nose.

Michelle quickly closed the door and went to sit next to her on the double stool in front of the mirror. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked, putting an arm around her. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘I’m not … I’m just …’ She put her head back as though to stop any more tears from rising. ‘It just came over me, out of the blue,’ she said. ‘Well, actually, out of a spot,’ she confessed, and pointed
to
an angry red swelling between her eyebrows. ‘I thought it was another tumour,’ she added, in a voice that was strangled by laughter and tears.

‘Oh you,’ Michelle cried, hugging her. ‘You had me really worried for a moment there. It’s all the sugar you’ve been eating. We’ve got to get you on a proper diet.’

‘No, please don’t. You name it, I’ve sunk myself in the misery of it, and in the end they proved no more effective than all the spiritual guff I sit here omming with day after day. All right, meditation helps keep me calm and lifts my spirits a bit, but it just doesn’t have the same kick as a doughnut.’

Michelle laughed. ‘Then doughnuts you shall have,’ she declared. ‘And spots.’

Katie was frowning into the mirror. ‘Ugh! Look at it,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s so big.’

‘Volcanic,’ Michelle agreed.

Katie’s eyes remained fierce, then quite suddenly she put her hands over her face and started to sob. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be seeing me like this …’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Michelle cried, pulling her into an embrace. ‘If you can’t let go with me, then who can you …?’

‘I just feel so pathetic,’ Katie gasped. ‘I keep trying to be strong, to tell myself I can get through this, but that’s the whole point, I’m not going to, am I? And I’m so afraid, Michelle. I’m just so afraid.’

‘Oh my darling, my darling,’ Michelle soothed, struggling to hold back her own tears.

‘It’s eating me up, so that I can’t think about anything else,’ Katie wept. ‘I keep telling myself I can fight it, sometimes I even believe I can, but then
little
spots start boiling up on my forehead, or in private places, and I end up feeling so disgustingly sorry for myself …’ She struggled to catch her breath. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Michelle. I love you so much, and I’ve been so happy since you’ve been here. I’ve started living again and … Oh heaven help me, make me stop before I totally fall apart.’

‘You won’t,’ Michelle told her firmly through her own tears. ‘I won’t let you.’

‘I’ve got so much to be grateful for,’ Katie choked, attempting to seize the positive route. ‘Like I said, having you here, being a part of something … It’s making me feel so alive. And Laurie … She’s made such a difference. I’m not sure why, but …’ She gave an anguished sort of laugh. ‘Thank God she can’t see me now, eh? This definitely isn’t the face I want to show to the world. Oh my God, look at it,’ she groaned, turning to the mirror.

Michelle looked at it, and in spite of the blotches and swollen eyes, she couldn’t have loved it more. ‘The spot doesn’t help,’ she said gravely.

BOOK: The Hornbeam Tree
9.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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