Everything to Lose (14 page)

23

Cosham
,
Hampshire

A bright sunny morning opened over Reagal Close in Cosham with a cool breeze blowing in from the English Channel. At 07:10 a.m. Zoe Tampin welcomed the new day. She lay awake for twenty minutes and listened to the typical early morning bustle outside. Annoyed that the Lambeth Group had provided rented accommodation in a block of six flats rather than putting them up in a house.

She
had learned that some residents in these flats stay up late and they were loud and inconsiderate door slammers. She felt frustrated she couldn't go to their doors and give them hell. In the barracks anyone slamming doors would be dealt with immediately. Soldiers need their sleep. She decided that if this backfire lasted more than two months she would go mad.

"Are
you awake yet?" Zoe called out.

Gavin
stirred in his bed, turned over and buried his head under his duvet.

"Gavin
are you awake?"

"Ugh.
What is it?" Gavin asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"Just
so you know. Orange juice, coffee black, no sugar, two slices of toast with a thin layer of butter," she said before she smiled and sat up in bed.

She
picked up yesterday's newspaper from her bedside cabinet. Gavin Shawlens was not house-trained for two. He fetched a glass of orange juice, then returned with a mug of coffee, then returned with two slices of buttered toast.

Gavin
wore an over-sized white tee-shirt and long blue-check pyjama bottoms. She ran her hand through her tousled pageboy cut black hair. Her fringe stayed up on her head revealing more of her face than he's seen when her hair was neatly set around her face.

"Not
having any breakfast?"

"I
had mine while I was making yours," he said and turned to leave her bedroom.

"It
took me ages to get back to sleep last night. What was that all about?"

"Nothing,"
he turned back to face her.

"Nothing
is never nothing Gavin. You're in my team, I need to know everything."

At
three a.m. that morning Gavin woke screaming and heaving. His head dripping in sweat and his hands gripped the sheets for dear life. He was terrified. Zoe's first thought, when he woke her and she hurried to his bedroom, was it was quite an original ruse to get her into his bed. When she saw him she realised it was no ploy. It took half an hour of sooth talking and a small glass of warm milk before he could settle and go back to sleep.

As
she lay in her own bed she started to wonder if his nerve was beginning to crack. She knew that if she reported this back to the Lambeth Group then he would be pulled and the investigation postponed. That would not look good. It would be better for everyone if she managed him carefully and got the job done.

She
recalled her initial briefing with Alan Cairn. As he handed over Gavin's file he gave her a quick head's-up on Shawlens and his relationship with Emma Patersun. With eagle eyes Zoe had noted that Alan Cairn held back a thin blue and black file. She asked Cairn what was in that file. Cairn told her it wasn't relevant for the current operation.

She
smiled as she noted that there was another side to Shawlens still to be revealed. It added a tinge more mystery to Gavin Shawlens. Made him a little more interesting. What Cairn didn't know was Zoe had seen one of these blue and black files before and knew what it represented.

Gavin's
recent troubles had put him through the mill and he was not yet over the deep shock of what happened to Emma Patersun. These traumas were still troubling his mind and she decided Alan Cairn was right. Dealing with this backfire was what Shawlens needed to get back on the horse.

"I
can't remember much. I don't know where I am, I'm freezing cold. It's very dark and I can't see anything. I have a terrible feeling of being lost. I think I'm inside the cabin of a boat, there's not much room to move about. I'm stuck and sinking fast, water is pouring in. There's no air and I'm drowning then the boat hits the bottom with an almighty bang of metal. I bang my head on the roof and I feel I'm going to pass out and swallow the water. I panic then I wake up."

"That's
horrible Gavin. But you went back to sleep so it is not playing on your mind."

"No
I don't think about it," he turned and left her bedroom.

"Can
you relate it to anything recent?" she called as she threw back her covers and swung her legs out of the bed onto the floor.

She
wore fine turquoise shorts with white stripes, low-rise waist and neatly tied flat-fronted drawstring; plus matching, close fitting, vest top with thin straps. Her slender waist, athletic abs, triceps and biceps defined a powerful body. She still needed a large Band-Aid on her arm for the wound she received at Ardwell Bay.

She
followed him into the living room still sipping her coffee. He sat on the settee with his tea and she sat opposite him folding her legs under her body as she leaned to the side on the arm of the chair. He looked at some of the prominent scars on her arms and legs.

"You've
been through the wars."

"Yes
I have literally."

"Emma
and I were captives on a Russian ship. We were held in a small cabin and I had terrible seasickness. I thought I was going to die. I hate throwing up I have a rigid fear of the vomit going down into my lungs."

"I'm
sorry about Emma Patersun. I know you loved her very much."

"From
the first day I met her."

"Your
subconscious is probably playing out a scenario where the Russian boat sank and you were trapped in the cabin. Once your subconscious realises it's a futile scenario. It'll stop working on it and you'll be fine."

"I
hope so."

"Did
you have these nightmares before you tackled Barscadden?"

"No.
I think the anti-rejection drugs I take for my stomach transplant might be causing a disturbance."

"I'm
relieved that it's not this backfire that's troubling you. I'd have to report that."

"I'm
fine. I'm confident about this one, especially with you looking after me like ..."

"Like
what? The wicked witch!"

"My
sister. My big sister looked after me for a while."

Her
jaw dropped and she felt insulted. She looked disappointed and thought
I'm
sitting
here
in
my
sexy
PJ's
looking
gorgeous
,
hot
even
.
Trying
to
pull
you
out
of
the
abyss
and
your
thinking
about
your
sister
.

He
stared at her fingers wrapped around her coffee mug and a very distinctive ring. It could be a wedding band. He couldn't remember which finger wears the wedding band.

"That's
a really exquisite ring."

"You
like it?" she held her hand up to rotate.

"Very
unusual. Is it a wedding band?"

"I
was married once. It didn't work out. I now have the perfect alternative."

"It's
not a wedding band then."

"I
had my wedding band melted down and converted into a charm for my bracelet."

"Let
me guess. Is it a dagger or a handgun? I know I'll bet it's a hand grenade."

"Actually
it's just a little fat pig."

They
laughed together then Zoe told Shawlens that her brother Michael was a bespoke jeweller who made high quality one-off pieces of expensive jewellery. Her rings were personal creations for her by her brother.

"Your
brother is very talented," he said and she saw him looking at the fine detail on the ring.

Suddenly
her features sharpened with a serious look.

"Let
me get one thing crystal clear Shawlens. My rings are intensely personal. Under no circumstances are you ever to touch my rings. Never, not once, never. Do you understand me clearly on this point?"

He
nodded agreement and wondered what he had done to annoy her.

"Are
you sure?"

"Yes,"
he said and looked offended.

She
hurt his feelings. He wouldn't ever touch her jewellery, valuable, bespoke or not and didn't see the need for an over-the-top warning. For a moment he thought about warning her not to touch any of his textbooks but decided against. Instead he picked up a newspaper and stared at it. She could see he wasn't reading it.

"So
what do you do for fun Shawlens?"

"What?"

"Fun you know. Outside of work," she teased.

"I
don't have time for fun."

"Aww
that's a crying shame."

"How
do you cope with the Service?"

"What
do you mean?"

"Relationships
in the Security Service are a bind with vetting and all that stuff," he said as he dropped the newspaper.

"That's
true but I'm not a prude. I pay a top class escort agency in London for a man for the night. I get a chance to dress up and be treated like a princess."

"A
male escort. Are you serious?"

"He
takes me out for dinner, we have some wine. He pays then we go back to his five star hotel room and I jump the Jolly Roger until I'm exhausted. Next morning when I wake-up, if the Jolly Roger is flying again, I'll have another quality session. I usually tip the guy fifty quid. Then we have a lovely breakfast. Job done."

"How
often can you afford that?"

"
It's not cheap. Only twice a month. I wish it could be more like once a week. Maybe when I get promoted to Head of Section."

"No
commitment, no love, just intense satisfaction."

"
I think it was Shirley Bassey that sang 'I don't need love, for what good will love do me?' but I do need to keep my body and my mind in tip top condition."

"And
you don't have to tell the escorts anything about you or your job, quite neat."

"Exactly.
One-nighters don't need to be vetted. So then Shawlens what get's your sperm into the breach?"

"So
these escort guys. Are they just empty suits?"

"God
no, these guys read broadsheets and investment pages. Dinner and breakfast conversations are always first class. I've learned a few smart things over the years and good investment advice. I've had some pretty good debates with them."

"I
meant sex-wise. How do you get aroused if these guys don't really fancy you?"

She
sucked in air and let it out slowly through her nose. She was determined not to reply with something that would upset him. She reined her thoughts back.

"What
do you mean by that?"

"Men
get aroused quickly that's why men can use prostitutes but few women use male prostitutes because arousal is slower."

"Straight
to the nuts and bolts Shawlens. These guys are professional lovers skilled in arousal. I have no complaints."

"You
don't feel the need for the settled intimacy of monogamy?"

"Been
there, done that, moved on, next question."

"Lots
of women these days are choosing to avoid the marital cave."

"Modern
women don't need the support of a caveman to raise children."

"Not
sure that's the reason," he said and his expression showed he was thinking hard.

"Well
oh great and clever scientist. Tell me then. Why are more women choosing not to stay in the marital cave?"

"I
have no idea. Men yearn to spread their seed far and wide. Women yearn for a great orgasm and many times the caveman can't deliver."

"Ha!
Ha! Ha! Shawlens, you're very funny."

"Is
it not true that many married women often find more satisfaction in the shower room than in the bedroom?"

"Look
Shawlens. It's true, female arousal is more complicated. Let's leave it at that."