Solomon's Keepers (6 page)

The second one talks about ‘physical demands.’ He says modern warfare places new and unprecedented challenges. Now he keeps looking at Rees’s Dad. The threats are different and the response needs to be too. We have to augment our capacity to learn, to get smarter, we have to augment the mind of the soldier. ‘For centuries we have put weapons in his hands. Now we have to put something into his head.’

His Mum and Dad look at one another and then at him. The officer knows he’s delivered a payload.

‘How do you do that?’ Rees asks.

The officer looks at him and then at his parents.

‘We will provide the details for you at a later stage. It is an advanced technique and highly secret. What I will say is that – you’ve heard of a fast track? This could just be the fast track of the future. Some very influential people are saying this is where the next generation of senior officers will come from. We’d need to get you on board and verify you’re suitable of course. When he gets to the ‘leap of faith’ bit, Rees’s Mum puts her hand across and finds her son’s. His Dad looks like a penny somewhere has dropped but says nothing.

The third one goes into lots of details about accommodation and money. He calls the thing a course rather than a selection. ‘A tough course but very closely monitored by the best professionals available.’ He writes down a number to call when they’ve thought it over.

He remembers when they first talked about the yanks. Funnily enough, to him it was a plus. In all the movies they always seemed to have a better idea of what they were doing. His Dad said they had more money. And then meeting General Dooley made him believe in it.

‘Accepting Solomon is already an act of defiance, a badge of courage, a challenge to the future to come forward, and a choice to succeed. I don’t ask where you’ve come from or what you may have done in your past lives. I only ask how willing you are now to put that experience and all the resources you have to the service of something greater than yourselves. And if you’re successful, I promise you your courage and commitment will be supported one thousand percent.’

His thoughts turn to Eva. He’s back in the days after that first night time meeting. He had texted Eva that he’d like to see her in daylight. It’s over a week before he has a day free but he gives her the date. Two days pass and he hears nothing. He calls and gets voicemail in Spanish. Fuck, what to say?

‘This is Rees; I have an idea for meeting in daylight. Call me back.’

She doesn’t. Two days later he tries again with something similar and gets nothing. Another two days and he leaves another message.

‘This is Rees; I remember you said something about pest control so thought I’d call you again, and again. I have a plan to liven up Cirencester, wanted to check you’ll be there.’

Shit, sounding like a twat. What next, begging?

He hears nothing. Why would she? She might be the best looking woman he’s ever seen and all she is going to remember is wiping lipstick off a beer-stink face. Fuck.

The next day he gets a text: Sorry so busy – Starbucks 8th Jun 18.30?

That’s the wrong day and René doesn’t concede to a swap of duties until Rees is up to two bottles of scotch, the extended version of Avatarts II and a full day in return. No matter. He checks out of the gate in the Land Rover at five thirty and has it cleaned out and is back in the driving seat in a change of clothes in ten minutes flat. It’s military but unmarked and he’s not the first to break the rules and use it on a personal.

Eva calls with half an hour to go.

‘Hi Rees, how are you?’

He’s sitting in traffic. The weather is a carwash.

‘I’m good,’ He says. ‘How are you?’

‘You still okay for later?’

‘Sure, I’ll be there.’

‘I hope you don’t mind but I have to do something and I was hoping you could help me. I didn’t want to cancel – I thought we could talk and, you know, just spend some time while I do some stuff. Is that too cheeky? Maybe easier to get to know each other, no?’

‘Whatever. What kind of stuff?’

‘Could you meet me at the main building – you come on to campus and follow the road to the old buildings at the back – before you get to the main car park. You’ll see some big steps. Could you meet me there? How much room have you got in your car?’

‘Huh? Plenty of room. It’s a Land Rover.’

‘Great. See you in a mo.’

There are tall trees lining the drive and the campus is a cluster of Cotswold stone buildings and some newer brick blocks. The old part has grandeur; an ancient college with a huge chapel, quadrangle and playing fields. The rain has stopped and when he finds the steps at the back he sees a group of figures in formal clothes and Eva standing apart in a stripe of sunlight. She is looking out for him as if for a bus approaching a bus stop and when he pulls up she is already coming down the steps. She’s wearing a dark shiny skirt and smart shoes with heels and manages an unhurried elegance despite the black suitcase she’s towing that wobbles and clunks down each step behind her. The buttons on her raincoat catch the sun as she moves and a red tint lights up her wind-blown hair as she sweeps it out of her eyes. For a moment she has an air of defiance but when he bounds up the steps to meet her she is all smiles.

They do a double kiss and he reaches for her suitcase but she holds him off to take a good look at him. Her gaze slides over his face, down his body and all the way back up. He’s taking her in too; she’s even prettier than he remembered, magazine cover skin, brown eyes glinting amber, weaponised mouth, and curves that bellow in a belted coat.

‘Leaving town?’

‘Hello Rees. I’m glad you could come! Are you feeling strong?’

He picks up the case. ‘Jeez, what’s in this?’

‘Sorry! I hope you don’t mind me asking a little favour, because otherwise I wouldn’t have had any time for us to meet and I thought – why not? – It’s a good thing to have something to do, isn’t it? And of course it’s easier for you because you don’t know anything to do here, do you? Anyway, there isn’t much to do. And yes, you’re right, I’m leaving.’

‘I’m in your hands,’ he says, ‘where are you moving to?’

‘Spain.’

‘Oh. That’s going to take a while.’

‘But not yet.’

‘Ah. Is that home?’

‘It used to be. I don’t know now.’

He opens the passenger door for her and watches her climb up into the front seat. She swings her knees in and her eyes flick around her, suddenly making him think that despite doing his best the Landy is filthy.

‘Sorry about the state of it, I did clean it out.’

‘Don’t worry, I grew up on a farm and we have much worse. I might even know how to fix it if it breaks – maybe I shouldn’t tell you that.’

‘That would be worth seeing – but not dressed like that.’

‘I had a ceremony this morning, now I have to get changed again and move my stuff out of my room. There are several boxes. It’s not too far. Is that all right? And then I promise I’ll take you to this lovely place I know where I can buy you a nice meal and find out all about you. How’s that?

‘Well let’s get you moved and then we’ll see who buys what.’

‘No. Don’t move. We have to be clear. You come here and then I ask you to help me – so I’m buying, okay?’

He starts the Land Rover up. It shudders and rattles and he helps Eva snap the broken buckle of her seatbelt shut.

‘How can I refuse?’

‘You can’t. It’s back around the front and out towards the main gate but then you turn right before the drive and I’m in a room there.’

The road swishes under the tyres. The sky ahead is black and the few passers-by are still carrying umbrellas but there’s sunshine slanting in from behind. A couple of students jog by in clinging wet clothes. There must be a rainbow somewhere.

‘It’s here, turn right and then left – yes by that van.’ They’re in a warren of low rise student apartments now. ‘It’s the one with the blue door – second on the right. You can park behind the red one. Oh shit!’

‘What’s up?’

‘Wait a minute. I thought – just pull over beyond there, would you?’

He slides the Land Rover up to the pavement twenty yards further on. Eva is looking behind through the back window.

‘Mierda, we’ll have to wait,’ she says.

‘Problem?’

‘Someone I was hoping wasn’t here. I’m sorry. See the BMW there on the other side? Can you see if there’s anyone in it?’

It looks empty.

‘He must be inside. Shit. She’s let him in. I knew it. Well I’ll just have to go in anyway. I’m very sorry. This might not be good. You stay here. I’m leaving the suitcase in here. Just keep an eye on it, will you?’

‘Don’t you want me to come in with you?’

‘I’d better go first. I’ll only be a minute.’

She slips out and he watches her in the wing mirror. She walks straight across to the black BMW parked opposite her apartment block. At first he thinks she’s going to smash something as she looks intently inside. Then she turns on her heel, heads up the path and lets herself into the block.’

He waits and watches. After several minutes he steps out of the Land Rover and stretches. The road is quiet. He locks the door and takes a few steps – at first away and then towards the apartment. Nothing moves. He checks his watch and gives it another five long minutes, sitting on the low wall with his feet in the pavement.

Two men come out. One is big and strides out; the other is small and follows hurriedly, looking about him. They see Rees and the Land Rover and pass a word but then cross the street and get into the BMW. The little one drives. They pass him and stare, turn at the top of the road and then pass again and take the drive down to the main road.

The door to the apartment block is open. Inside there are several identical numbered student bedrooms. He follows the sound of raised voices down the corridor. Through a partially open door he sees Eva sitting on a bed, pulling on jeans. Another female figure is talking loudly.

He catches a snippet. ‘What do you expect me to do? ’

He knocks and pushes the door. Eva has changed and is buttoning up a new blouse. Her cheeks are tear-stained when she looks up and she wipes her face hurriedly. Her companion jumps up, short blonde hair and red face.

‘Who the fuck are you? What do you want?’ Until Eva calms her down and explains.

Then Eva raises her hands and lets out a gasp of exasperation. Rees follows her eyes around the room. The several boxes and cases she had obviously packed have been messily searched, leaving the contents strewn around. The drawers are sticking out of her little cabinet and the wardrobe gapes open. One curtain is drawn. There’s a desk, clear except for a couple of paper clips and some dusty pens. The bed is stripped to the mattress. The walls have shadows where pictures have hung.

‘You okay?’

‘This is Angela,’ Eva says. ‘And this was my room. And now, thank God, we can leave.’

He sits down on the bed and puts a tentative arm around her. Angela stands facing them with her arms folded, a stocky girl in jeans and a green tee shirt with a horse’s arse on it.

‘He’s a dickhead. You know that. Do you want your plant stuff from my window? I haven’t even started my packing yet.’

‘Keep them.’ Eva says, rallying, ‘send me a picture when they flower.’

He watches her re-pack clothes and books into the cases. One crate has a broken lid but Angela finds some tape and they stick it down. He carries the heavy boxes out to the Land Rover and Eva pulls the suitcases. He watches while she hugs Angela and exchanges a few last words.

She doesn’t say much except to give directions as he runs her to her new accommodation – a room in a house a few miles away. They unload the boxes into a hallway full of landlady bric-a-brac and pictures of dogs. Two live ones buff his ankles as he marches in and out and the landlady watches from the kitchen doorway, nosing for personal chemistry and the likelihood of activities which her terms rule out.

It’s early evening when they sit down in the restaurant, a Sicilian place, an imagined terrace under vines and a cave of polished wood and gingham. It’s busy with families tucking in but they find a small table in a corner by a faded mural of cuboid buildings sliding into the sea.

‘Seems you’re a bit of a nomad,’ he says. ‘I think the new place looks nice. Homely. I hope you like dogs.’

‘She’s a sweetheart, really. And thanks for today.’ She says. ‘It wasn’t quite what I planned. I’m actually quite organised usually but things have gone a bit haywire. It’s just while I get my own place sorted out. Thanks for looking after me.’ She reaches forward and squeezes his hand.

The waiter brings menus and then bread and a wine list which he opens, as though for a signature. Rees is thinking mainly about how good Eva looks in her jeans and red blouse and also about how broke he is and that he really ought to be paying for this. She orders pasta and he opts for a steak. He doesn’t know much about wine and he picks the middle-priced of three Chiantis. It takes him a moment to realise she is laughing.

‘What?’