worry about it. Handsome men don’t stick around for very long. They get snapped up like Boxing Day bargains. Women like me have to hang around for the Spring sale.”
We end the call with friendly laughter and hasty goodbyes. She’ll need to get a move on if she’s going to catch her flight.
IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING that’s happened, I’ve slept soundly for two nights. Light relief has come from knowing that Beth is out of reach of those who would hurt her or worse. The crew Lester has assembled are highly trained and I feel confident that she’s in safe hands.
I traipsed around our home barefoot yesterday, unfolding sheets of paper with instructions written in half a dozen languages—none of which I spoke. I’ve always believed that I can turn my hand to anything, given some preparation time. I’m starting to think I could have been overly confident. Who knew that a baby’s cot could have so many components?
Thankfully, Lester was on hand with tools and I served as his incompetent but enthusiastic assistant. By four o’clock yesterday afternoon we had two cots assembled, complete with mattresses and mobiles. The workmen I employed are coming later today to apply the final touches. I’m hopeful that by the time I return from my office this evening, everything will be close to completion. Naturally, it will be up to Beth to decide on linen and anything else she wants. I’ll have surpassed my level of expertise by then, and will follow her lead from this point on.
Charlotte appears unsettled when I call her into my office. I’m not sure why.
I engage her in conversation. “Is everything, okay? You seem a little—“
“Perfectly. I mean … yes, thank you. How was your flying visit to see Beth?” A smile flickers across her lips.
“Better than I could have hoped for, based on last week’s performances.” I lean back in my chair. “You were right. She was upset by my venture into amateur dramatics. She was taken in by what she saw, and forgot what I’d said. I had some explaining to do.”
“At least you were there to explain in person. That will have meant a lot to her.”
I offer an agreeable smile. “Yes. It did. Getting there was like something out of a madcap movie but totally worth it.” My hands rest on my desk in a makeshift pyramid, indicating it’s time to talk business. “There’s going to be a few additions to my diary.”
She folds back a page in her notepad. “I’m ready.”
“I’ve decided to work with Mr. Pendleton from MI5 on a project of his as a way of flushing out those fucking insurgents who seem dead set on getting their hands on Beth.”
Unimpressed by my declaration she frowns, causing vertical lines to appear in that narrow strip of skin between her eyebrows. “You’re working with them again?”
“Yes. I don’t want to go into why… Just take it from me, this is the only way. It’s something I have to do.”
She turns away. “I see.”
“We’ll need to organise some press coverage; get my face out there so they know the where and the when…”
In a very uncharacteristic manner, she interposes. “But I thought Lester said that you should avoid doing that?”
I’m nodding, remembering those very same words. “He did. But this is a different approach. I want to draw them out, to drop whatever fucked-up schemes they’re devising for Beth and to take me on.”
She stops jotting down notes and faces me, taking a couple of seconds to think through her question. “Isn’t that unsafe?”
“It doesn’t have to be. MI5 will be handing security. Lester will be on hand to oversee things as far as I’m concerned, so … so I’m hopeful that when I appear at the Royal Albert Hall on Friday to collect my shiny medal, I’ll live long enough to show it to Beth.”
She bows her head, as if she’s saying a silent prayer. “You know that if Beth were here, she wouldn’t let you do this, don’t you, Mr. Stone?”
“Yes. But she isn’t here, is she?” I snap, much too curtly. “Now it’s up to me to do whatever it takes to rectify that.”
“All right. I’ll contact Mr. Pendleton, get a copy of the press pack and take it from there. In one respect, it will be good to see you in the media for something reputable. On the other hand—”
“—yes. I know all about on the other hand…”
She clears her throat. “I’ll get right on it.” Still hovering