The Hornbeam Tree Read online

  Almost able to feel the inner turmoil herself, Laurie said, ‘Have you spoken to Katie about it?’

  ‘We touch on it from time to time, but I don’t want to force anything … I mean, would either of us want to be in her position?’

  Knowing it was the very last position she’d ever want to be in, Laurie shook her head and said, ‘Of course not. But I think you should tell her the way you’re feeling.’

  Michelle’s expression reflected her dismay. ‘You’re probably right,’ she responded, with a sigh, ‘but not today. For some reason I don’t seem to be coping very well … I keep thinking about Tom. I’m missing him so much, and now this news from Max …’ Catching Katie watching them from the window, she gave her a wave, and said, ‘I should go. I’ve got my phone with me, if you hear anything.’

  ‘Likewise if you do,’ Laurie responded, and lifted the camera from the car to take it inside.

  The FBI’s Acting Legal Attaché Stuart Fellowes was sitting at his desk in the suite of offices allocated to him and his staff at the US Embassy in Grosvenor Square. A cone of lamplight lit the keyboard in front of him, though for the moment his fingers were still as he read the message coming through on the screen, from the Counter-terrorism Division in Washington DC.

  Subject sighted in Italy. Be ready

  to move re memo dated October 22nd.

  Location to follow.

  Fellowes waited in case there was more, then in accordance with the instructions laid down for all communication from this source for this case, he erased the message and eased his thickset frame out of the chair. If everything went according to plan, this particular assignment was going to afford him a great deal of personal satisfaction. Nailing the left-wing bastards who spouted their anti-government rhetoric in the papers every day, like they didn’t seem to have a problem with what the fucking Arabs had done to one of the world’s greatest cities and nearly three thousand of its people, and who seemed to get some kind of kick out of slamming their own president who actually had the balls to stand up and fight for freedom, unlike most of the rest of the chicken-shit world, had long been a dream.

  ‘Nancy,’ he said to his assistant through the intercom. ‘Did you see the message?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ she answered. ‘It’s erased.’

  ‘Good girl. Now get me Jack Wilding on the line, from the anti-terrorist branch. The flag should have gone up for him at the same time as us, so we need to find out how he’s planning to play this.’

  A few minutes later Jack Wilding’s voice came down the line saying, ‘Russell’s just turned up, back at his apartment.’

  ‘Any sign of Chambers?’

  ‘No. Someone’s going round there to talk to Russell. We’ve been in touch with the Italians. I’ll get back to you as soon as the location’s confirmed.’

  In her office in the next room to Fellowes, Nancy Goodman put down her own receiver and turned back to her computer to start typing a message.

  Katie was watching Michelle drive away up the lane, as Laurie carried the camera in through the door. ‘Is she all right?’ she asked, turning to give Laurie a hand.

  ‘She’s worried about Tom,’ Laurie replied, handing over the tripod.

  ‘And probably getting sick to death of being stuck here with me,’ Katie added, leading the way into the sitting room. ‘I don’t blame her. I’m sick to death of being stuck here with me, and this gloomy weather doesn’t help. Talk about a fast track into autumn. There’s hardly a leaf left on the trees, did you see? Though the forecast says it’s supposed to brighten up a bit later.’

  ‘Where are you going to be the most comfortable?’ Laurie asked, looking around the cosy sitting room, with its large, downy sofa beneath the leaded window, non-matching armchairs either side of the hearth, and threadbare Persian rug, on which Trotty was currently having a snooze.

  ‘I think we should get the fireplace in, don’t you?’ Katie suggested, squaring her hands to create a viewfinder around the big stone inglenook with its cast-iron burner, original bread oven and knotted oak lintel.

  Amused by her mimicry, Laurie turned one of the armchairs to face out into the room, then set up the camera, a chair for herself and the few notes she’d made, while Katie tottered off to tart herself up a bit, as she so decorously put it.

  ‘You look great,’ Laurie told her when she came back sporting a fake tan down to her neckline, neat smudges of purplish-brown shadow to help the sunken effect of her eyes seem more moody and less ghoulish, and a delicate coral-coloured lipstick that blended quite beautifully with her chestnut wig. ‘In fact, you look stunning,’ she declared.

  ‘Steady on, now,’ Katie warned, though obviously pleased by the compliment. ‘Now, is this where you want me?’

  As she sank down in the armchair, Laurie adjusted the curtains to stop the sporadic blazes of sunlight beaming straight into her eyes, then after checking the camera, she discreetly pushed the record button, and sat down.

  ‘OK?’ she asked. ‘Do you need anything? Water? Doughnuts?’

  Katie chuckled. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured her, actually starting to feel a little nervous. ‘It’s weird,’ she commented, ‘I must have done a hundred or more TV appearances in my time, but now I’ve got to talk about myself, I’m like a jelly.’

  Laurie waited for Trotty to snuggle down on Katie’s lap, then giving Katie a gentle prompt to begin, she said, ‘When you look back on your life now, what sort of things do you most regret?’

  Katie grimaced, and tried not to think of the camera as all her mistakes, missed opportunities and toe-curling embarrassments came strolling up for an airing. ‘Oh, I could probably go on for days,’ she responded lightly, ‘but I suppose not being a better mother, or daughter, or sister rates pretty highly. And flunking it spectacularly as a wife …’ She smiled, ironically. ‘I’ve been an almost constant victim of the chattering in my own mind,’ she confessed. ‘I kept seeing the negative side to everything, when I could have bypassed all the self-destructive guff we feed ourselves by taking some time out to connect with my higher self and …’

  ‘Can we have less of your spiritual counsellor, and more of you?’ Laurie said, gently steering her back on course.

  Katie’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not hacking it as a Bodhisattva,’ she told her.

  Not entirely sure what that was, Laurie merely smiled and waited for her to continue.

  ‘Well, OK,’ Katie said, still much too conscious of the camera, and wondering if she really wanted the whole world to know what a sad old specimen she actually was, ‘apart from regretting that I never made a few million, travelled the globe first class, and got blessed with Michelle’s legs and Pamela Anderson’s boobs, the thing I regret most is that, in my little box of life fireworks, God forgot to light the love and romance fuse. I mean, he tried a couple of times, but it kept going out, and then he just seemed to give up. And I’d hardly thank him if he got it all sparkling and fizzing up to the big explosion now, would I? Too bloody late, I’d tell him. Save it for Molly. She’ll more than deserve it once she’s through all this.’

  Picking up on what might have been a note of bitterness, Laurie said, ‘Are you saying you feel cheated?’

  Katie’s eyes dropped to Trotty, as though not wanting anyone to see what they might be giving away. ‘How can I say that,’ she finally answered, ‘when I have so much? But yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying, because it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that you’ve been excluded from life’s biggest club; one that everyone else seems to find so easy getting membership to, while for you, every door is an exit.’

  Laurie said, ‘You’ve never been in love?’

  Katie sighed and looked off towards the unused front door. ‘Actually, yes I have,’ she admitted, eventually. ‘I loved Molly’s father once, back in the early days, before I got wise. But then he managed to fleece me of everything, except, thank God, Molly, so, as regrets go, I’d say that marrying a man who didn’t love me and staying with
him as long as I did has to top the charts. And up there with it is the regret – or sadness, I suppose – that no-one’s ever been in love with me. I would have liked to be adored and cherished, to feel as though I’m making someone’s world a better place, just by being there and being me. If the ship was sinking, or the house was on fire, no-one would be thrashing about trying to find me. I’m excluding Molly, you understand, because she’s a different kind of love altogether, and I know she’d be there for me, as I obviously would for her. What I’m saying is that if it weren’t for Molly, I’m not sure there’s really been any point to my life. The world, and everyone in it, would have trundled along just fine if I hadn’t dropped in, and now I have to wonder why I bothered, if all I’m going to do is bail out on my daughter at the very time she needs me most. That’s not a particularly admirable contribution to make to anyone’s existence, is it, least of all someone you love.’ She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘I think that falls under the heading of regret, doesn’t it?’

  Laurie nodded.

  ‘So, alas I have no heart-melting memories of romantic trysts in Paris or Rome. There were never any glittering little packages at Christmas or on birthdays for me, so no special trinkets to pass on to Molly. No flowers on Valentine’s Day. Zippo from the Easter bunny; champagne and one glass on New Year’s Eve.’

  She paused as she thought of her and Molly’s dream box and the crazy wishes they’d put in. They hadn’t added anything to it for a while, and she realized sadly just how many unfulfilled dreams she had now.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Laurie prompted.

  Katie’s eyes came to hers and slowly started to sparkle. ‘Let’s move on to something a bit cheerier now, shall we?’ she said.

  Laurie sighed. ‘You’re like someone who puts their toe in the water then runs off shrieking it’s wet,’ she told her.

  Katie chuckled. ‘Nicely put,’ she responded. ‘But I’m not a keen swimmer when it comes to self-pity, which is what regrets are all about really – well, mine are, and to tell the truth I am a keen swimmer, a bit too keen in fact, but I’ll do my drowning in private, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘So that’s it?’ Laurie said. ‘No more interview?’

  ‘Oh yes, plenty, if you can stand it,’ she answered, peering past Laurie towards the window. ‘But I think we might have to take a break, because, unless I’m mistaken, we seem to have visitors.’

  Laurie turned round, and seeing two men getting out of a white saloon car she frowned, for one of them seemed familiar. Then, realizing who it was, she immediately jumped up. ‘It’s Chris!’ she cried, wondering what on earth he was doing here. ‘Chris Gallagher,’ she explained, and added darkly, ‘the art dealer who represents Andraya Sorrantos, and who happens to be a great friend of mine and Elliot’s.’ If he was back from New York, she was thinking, did that mean Andraya was back too?

  Katie was on her feet, staring past her in amazement. ‘And with him,’ she murmured, as the two men approached the gate, ‘is Tom Chambers. Tell me I’m dreaming.’

  ‘That’s Tom?’ Laurie cried, focusing on the handsome stranger who was moving ahead of Chris into the garden.

  ‘That’s Tom,’ Katie confirmed, breaking into a grin. ‘My God. This is going to cheer up Michelle,’ and rushing out through the kitchen she threw open the door to greet him. ‘What are you doing here?’ she cried joyfully, as he scooped her up in an embrace.

  ‘You have to ask?’ he responded, a roguish twinkle in his eye that betrayed nothing of the shock he’d felt at how gaunt and wasted she looked.

  ‘Michelle’s going to get the surprise of her life,’ she declared, stepping back to look at him.

  Beside them Laurie was warmly embracing Chris. ‘Is Elliot with you?’ she asked.

  ‘We dropped him at Biggin Hill,’ he answered, ‘then flew on to a private airfield a couple of miles down the road. I’m not stopping, I just offered to make sure our friend got here in one piece.’

  Immediately Laurie said to Tom, ‘Have you spoken to Max? Do you know about Josh Sh …’

  ‘Yep, Elliot called him from a payphone right after we landed,’ he told her, holding out a hand to shake. ‘Tom Chambers. And I’m guessing you’re Laurie Forbes.’

  She smiled and shook. ‘I feel I already know you,’ she told him, meaning it, and turned to introduce Katie to Chris.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Katie said, shaking Chris’s hand and somehow stopping herself from swooning, because though Tom might be a good-looking man, she wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone quite as handsome as Chris Gallagher. Inevitably a coquettish little bloom of hope began wondering if God was making one last attempt at the unlit romance fuse, but it quickly withered as Laurie said, ‘Where’s Rachel? I thought you two were still in New York.’

  ‘We came back at the end of last week,’ he told her. ‘She’s in Cornwall now, which is where I’m headed.’

  ‘But you’ll stay and have some tea,’ Katie protested. ‘Or champagne even. If I had some.’

  Laughing, Tom slipped an arm round her shoulder and whispered, ‘So where is she?’

  ‘Out shopping for a car, but she should be back any time.’

  ‘Let’s ring her,’ Laurie said, following Katie as she turned back inside.

  ‘No. If she’s due back any time, I’d kind of like to surprise her,’ Tom said. Then to Katie, ‘How is she? Or more to the point, how are you? You look damned wonderful.’

  ‘Stage make up,’ Katie informed him. ‘But I’m fine. Now tell me about you, and how the heck you got here.’

  As they talked, Laurie turned to Chris and with an uneasy feeling in her heart said, ‘Did Andraya come back from New York with you?’

  His expression showed his dismay. ‘I’m afraid so,’ he answered. ‘She’s in London.’

  Feeling her tension increase, she said, ‘Does Elliot know?’

  ‘He didn’t mention her when I saw him.’

  She let her eyes fall away, still too easily able to picture the Brazilian bombshell in an intimate embrace with Elliot.

  ‘It’s over,’ Chris told her quietly. ‘He knows what a big mistake he made, so he’s not about to do anything stupid again.’

  Her eyes came back to his, but then becoming aware of what Tom was telling Katie, she turned to listen.

  ‘… and by the time we spoke to Max,’ he was saying, ‘we’d already heard from Sajid that Farukh and three others have been arrested in Pakistan.’

  ‘On what charges?’ Laurie asked.

  ‘Still vague,’ he replied, ‘but they’ll be terrorist-related, and as trumped-up as Josh’s, you can be certain of that.’

  ‘Doesn’t all this make it risky for you to be here?’ Katie asked. ‘I mean, if they’re pulling the others in …’

  ‘Probably,’ he said, ‘but by the time we knew what was happening we’d already landed, so I decided to take the chance. Let’s just hope they don’t have any long-range listening devices aimed in this direction. If they do, I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Which,’ he said, turning back to Laurie, ‘is another reason I don’t want you to call Michelle. The less said on the phone right now the better, because you can be certain they’re all tapped, or sending signals to some spook satellite somewhere.’

  Katie shuddered as she took a bottle of wine from the fridge. ‘I don’t care if it’s barely midday,’ she declared, ‘I’m having a drink, and I hope you’re all going to join me.’

  ‘Sorry, but this is where I have to duck out,’ Chris said with a grimace of apology. ‘I’ll take the car back to the airfield,’ he told Tom. ‘You know how to get hold of me if you need to,’ and after embracing Laurie again, he left.

  Katie tugged out the cork. ‘So, your own personal …’ but before she could say pilot Tom put a finger to her lips. ‘Best not to discuss him,’ he said in a whisper.

  Katie looked at Laurie.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Laurie told her, keeping her voice low. She was very well
aware of the need for secrecy where Chris was concerned, since Elliot and Tom were almost certainly putting his contacts in the intelligence world to as much good use as his pilot skills.

  A few minutes later, as they clinked glasses and started to drink, the door banged noisily open and Molly stumbled in saying, ‘Mum! I have to have some new clothes. You’ve got …’ Seeing the visitors she abruptly stopped. Then noticing her mother had make-up on, and that her eyes were all sparkly and gooey, she was on the point of backing out before anything got embarrassing, when Katie said, ‘Where are your manners, Molly? Don’t you remember Tom?’

  Molly blinked. Oh yeah, he’d come here before, with Michelle. Years ago. Did that mean he was going to take her away again? ‘Hello,’ she said sweetly.

  ‘And Laurie you know,’ Katie said.

  ‘Hello,’ Molly mumbled. Then remembering what she’d been saying as she’d come in, she switched on the charm and sidled up to her mother.

  ‘You’re too transparent,’ Katie told her, before she could begin. ‘Now sit down and have a half-glass of wine if you like, or at least try to make civilized conversation before you start trying to wheedle anything out of me.’

  ‘You’re sure like your mother,’ Tom said to Molly.

  Katie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I don’t think she’ll thank you for that,’ she responded as she looked at Molly’s pink cheeks. ‘I’m not sure I do either. I mean, look at her.’

  ‘Mum!’ Molly responded. Then turning her eyes playfully on her, she said, ‘Actually, I’m happy to be like you.’

  Katie was immediately suspicious. ‘Exactly how much do you want?’ she demanded.

  Molly threw out her hands as the others laughed. ‘I am,’ she insisted, and stealing a quick look at Tom, she slipped her arms round Katie’s neck and said, ‘You’re the most beautiful person in the world.’

  Katie looked at her askance. ‘Have you been drinking?’ she asked.