Fear of the Fathers (26 page)

Annie sat down. Marvo cleaned his hands in the sink and lit a candle. Standing over Kamal he muttered something imperceptible under his breath, and made some signs in the air over his body. Then, after rubbing his hands, he held them side by side a couple of inches above Kamal's head.

Annie looked on attentively as Marvo treated Kamal, hovering for minutes at a time in one spot, and then moving slowly down, each area producing its own unique reaction in Marvo's hands: sometimes steady, sometimes oscillating, and occasionally shaking furiously. As her eyes became accustomed, she noticed a haze emanating from Kamal's body. It rose as a fine mist four inches thick across his entire being. Whenever Marvo's hands penetrated it, flashes of gold light flecked the space in between. She became mesmerized and gradually lost track of time, falling dreamily into a gentle sleep.

The next thing she knew Marvo was calling her name. “Annie,” he said tenderly. “Annie.”

She opened her eyes and smiled. “Sorry, I must have dozed off. I felt so relaxed.”

“Don't worry about it,” said Marvo. “A little sleep is always good.”

“Are you finished?” she asked.

“Yes, I'm finished – well, for the moment anyway. I'll probably give him another go tomorrow. I'll tell you what though – he's certainly got a lot of life left in him. I'd be very surprised if he doesn't pull through. I can't remember anyone having so much energy flowing through them. It certainly explains how he survived those bullet wounds anyway. There's not many people that would have.” He took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “You must be worn out. Let's find you somewhere to sleep.”

10pm and Jennings sat at a table in the corner of the Adelphi's Wave Bar. It was quiet, with just himself and a smattering of couples occupying the large, clean space. He swished his large scotch thoughtfully, watching it break the ice cubes, and then took a large mouthful, relaxing in its golden warmth. With a satisfied sigh he put the glass down and leant back in his chair.

Pulling his phone from his pocket he dialled Stella's number one last time, but again was met by a sterile recording. He left another quick message and hung up.

From across the room he saw Appleby walking towards him. He was in no mood for company and if there had been any way of avoiding his partner he would have taken it. Unfortunately he was trapped, and all he could do was give a friendly wave and wait for him to come over.

“Thought I might join you,” he said.

“No problem,” said Jennings politely. “Are you bored with the two amigos?”

“You could say that,” laughed Appleby. “Can I get you another?”

“Why not. I'll have a large Laphroaig, please mate.”

Appleby rolled his eyes. “Just as well it's on the tab,” he said.

He returned a couple of minutes later with Jennings' whisky and a pint of export lager for himself. Sitting down opposite he took a long drink and placed the glass on the table only two-thirds full. “I needed that,” he said, wiping the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “It's been a long old day.”

“It certainly has,” said Jennings. “And tomorrow doesn't look like being any shorter. But at least we'll have a bit more help.”

“You mean Stone and Davis? I'd hardly call them a help. They spend most of their time away from all the action. There's always an excuse to be somewhere else with them.”

“You're being a bit harsh aren't you?” said Jennings. “They're not that bad. I mean, they did have a job to do today, checking out the route in Manchester.”

Appleby downed another third of his pint. “That's all a load of crap. It's just an excuse. That route's already been checked and double-checked. You forget, I've worked with these guys a lot longer than you, I know when something's not right.”

Jennings didn't want to get drawn into badmouthing his workmates, but Appleby's stare was so earnest he felt compelled to play along. “So you don't think they're pulling their weight?” he said.

“I didn't say that, did I.” He pulled Jennings close, his voice falling to a whisper. “I said that I know when something's not right.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean that I've been working alongside those two for a long time. Thick as thieves they are. Always hanging around Ayres like a couple of eager puppies.”

“Well, to be fair, Stone is the head man.”

“I know that,” said Appleby. “But I've been watching them. I'm telling you, there's something suspicious going down. Take today for instance: all that rubbish about being splashed by a car, and opening the door into Davis' face. I've never heard so much bullshit.”

“Well, I agree with you there. But I put it down to them having a spat with each other. It happens sometimes when you work so closely with someone.”

Appleby grunted. “You're so naïve. Those two weren't fighting each other – like I said they're thick as thieves – they've been fighting with someone else. I'm sure of it.”

“Maybe, but that doesn't mean it's anything sinister,” said Jennings, shrugging it off.

“No, but why lie? I tell you, they've been up to something for months. I've kept a mental note of everything, and some written ones. It was last week at Cheltenham that really tipped the balance for me though.”

“Why's that?” said Jennings finishing off his first whisky.

“Because of the way they acted through the whole thing. Not a sign of real concern or panic.”

“They're trained to be calm in those situations, just like we are.”

Appleby finished his pint. “Of course they are. But I've seen them in lesser situations, and I know how they react. It was their eyes Jennings – there was no surprise in their eyes. And look at how they split themselves up, pairing you with Davis and me with Stone. They always work together, no matter what the scenario.”

“Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid about all this?” said Jennings. “I mean, what are you trying to say? Are you implying that they had something to do with the assassination attempt?”

Appleby got out of his seat. “I'm going to have another drink. Do you want one?”

Jennings declined, still having the one Appleby had given him previously. He sat quietly and reflected on his partners words, unconsciously shaking his head in risible disbelief.

Appleby returned quickly. “In answer to your question, yes – that's exactly what I'm implying,” he said. Then, seeing the expression on Jennings' face, he added, “And I'm not going mad. I haven't been drinking or taking drugs either.”

“Fair enough, but you haven't shown me any hard evidence. It just seems like a lot of suspicion and paranoia to me. You sound like a crazed conspiracy theorist.”

“You're right, I haven't shown you any hard evidence. But as I keep telling you – I've been watching them for months. I've got a whole load of notes back in my room at No. 10: conversations I've overheard, phone calls they've made, people they've met up with.”

“So you've basically been spying on them,” said Jennings.

“If you want to call it that, then yes, I have,” said Appleby. “But it's been in the interest of national security.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“Of course not. I've got no concrete proof for a start, and secondly I've got no idea how far up it goes. I don't trust anyone…apart from you of course mate. Everyone knows you're one of the good guys.”

Jennings, more than slightly flattered by his reputation, decided to humour the idea. “I'll tell you what. When we get back to Downing Street I'll have a look at your notes and see if there's any substance to your idea. If there is, I'll help you find some proof.”

“Cheers Jennings,” said Appleby, raising his glass. “You're a goodun. I've been bursting with this for ages.”

Jennings clanked vessels and took a swig of whisky. Appleby's theory was totally insane, but somewhere inside an alarm bell started to ring.

Unseen birds chirruped Annie awake. She got out of bed and went to the window, opening the curtains sleepily and staring out onto a large grassy garden surrounded by woods. There was no break in the weather, but it didn't diminish the unseasonal beauty of the multifarious flowers that grew in perfectly technicolored lines around the edges of the turf. A pair of blue-tits hopped about the ornate birdbath that took centre-stage.

Feeling refreshed after the best night's sleep she'd had all week, she put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Marvo was already at the stove cooking breakfast. The aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air.

“Smells good,” said Annie, wandering brightly in.

“Sit yourself down,” said Marvo. “Help yourself to coffee or tea, they're on the tray.”

Annie poured herself a coffee and sat down at the table. “You're very kind,” she said. “There's no need to go to all this trouble. After all you don't even know me.”

Marvo turned briefly from the stove. “No, I don't. But don't worry, it's all going on Kamal's bill.” He gave her a little wink.

They ate breakfast chatting freely. When Annie mentioned how lovely the garden looked, Marvo became even more animated than usual, telling her about each flower: where they were from, when they were planted, how he got them to bloom so early. His energy was irresistible. Annie didn't think she'd ever met anyone who buzzed so brilliantly or radiated such constant warmth.

After breakfast Marvo loaded the dishwasher, then turned to Annie and said, “Come with me. I've got a little surprise for you.”

He led her to the recovery room where, to her great joy, Kamal was sitting upright and awake, watching the morning news. He smiled briefly as they walked in. She felt an overwhelming desire to give him a big hug, but stopped herself for fear of hurting him. Also, a part of her knew he just wasn't the hugging type.

“Do you feel up to some breakfast yet?” said Marvo.

“Yes, I think I do,” said Kamal.

“No problem. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. I'll leave you two to chat.”

For a moment after Marvo left Annie found herself lost for words. She sat down next to the bed and fidgeted awkwardly whilst pretending to watch the news with Kamal. Then, thankfully, he broke the silence. “Has Marvo been looking after you well?” he asked.

“Yes, he's been fantastic…absolutely fantastic. He seems really nice.”

Kamal nodded his approval. “Yes, he is a good man. A man you can trust…Now tell me, what happened to you yesterday?”

Annie related the story, right up until she found Kamal lying in the woods.

“So you don't remember hitting your head?” he said.

“No. I guess with all the adrenalin pumping I didn't feel it. Anyway what happened to you?”

“It is all a bit hazy,” said Kamal. “I had disarmed two of them when I felt the shots in my back. I went down and blacked out. When I came round there was no-one in the car park, but I heard shouts coming from the woods. It took all my effort to drag myself to cover. I am sorry I could not do any more.”

Annie took his hand. “You don't have to be sorry for anything,” she said softly. “You've done more than enough for me. I'm sorry that you've been shot.”

“Do not worry about it,” said Kamal. “I will be fine. It will take more than a couple of bullets to stop me.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

Annie squeezed his hand tightly. “What I don't understand,” she said, “is why they left me lying there. I would have thought they'd have either taken me or killed me.”

“I can only assume that someone came along and disturbed them,” Kamal opined. “They must have left in a hurry.”

“Who were they anyway?” she asked.

“They were exactly who you said. They were Special Branch. I am sorry for doubting you. I recognized them from the racecourse. They are the Prime Minister's own bodyguards. I knew they were bad when I first laid eyes on them. I had a feeling about them.”

“The Prime Minister's bodyguards!” exclaimed Annie.

“Yes, his bodyguards,” Kamal repeated.

“But why would they hire someone to shoot at him? Surely they could do that themselves?”

“I have no idea what is going on,” said Kamal. “It is no doubt political, but who can tell? All that concerns me now is the welfare of your family. I am scared for them, these are powerful people.”

“But surely now that I've seen them they'll have to be careful,” said Annie. “I mean, they won't want me going to the police or the papers with this.”

“No, of course not,” Kamal agreed. “But unfortunately they are high enough up the food chain to make things go away.”

Annie's face fell.

“Of course there is still hope,” said Kamal. “They will want to have as little trouble as possible.”