The Nursery

by Asia Mackay

  I said, ‘Peng is attending an event where she’s going to be surrounded by people holding loaded shotguns?’ Just when we thought the security aspect of this mission couldn’t get any more challenging.

  Hattie nodded. ‘It’s going to be impossible to vet everyone at the shoot and the dinner, not to mention the risks involved in an overnight stay in a private residence with multiple entry points.’

  ‘Can I go to this castle?’ asked Cameron. ‘It sounds like the fairy tale Britain I actually want to see – not this,’ she gestured round the room, ‘grotty underground reality of—’

  I cut her off before she could launch into another attack on the Platform, London, us. ‘Can’t we just advise her security detail for her to not attend?’ Considering we were up against an unknown hostile in an unknown location, our chances of keeping Peng alive were slim.

  ‘It’s the main event of Peng’s whole trip to the UK. There’s not just the potential joint venture with Wycombe’s family business at stake but all those attending the dinner are big powerhouses in the aviation business. There is no way they would cancel. Especially as we can’t give them information on what the threat exactly is.’

  I saw now how it was urgent we found the Snake and Coyote as soon as possible. Having to try and protect Peng at the shoot was going to be a logistical nightmare.

  Hattie leaned over to Geraint’s laptop and pressed a button. The whiteboard updated to a photo of a pretty Chinese woman in her twenties. The text next to it stated she was ‘Ling Ling Chuan, Minister Peng’s PA’.

  ‘Next step: we need access to Ling Ling’s Dictaphone so we can install a bug. Being able to listen in on every meeting they have will give us a major operational advantage.’

  ‘Any chance of doing it today?’ I asked.

  ‘Ling Ling is at the Embassy all day with Peng. I’m going to join Robin there as soon as we’ve finished here but it’s unlikely we’ll get an opportunity to get close enough to her to do it.’

  As Protection Officers they would be able to keep watch on Peng and intervene if there was any incoming threat, but getting to Ling Ling’s Dictaphone without being noticed would not be easy.

  ‘Robin and I will keep an eye on her movements. Wherever Ling Ling goes after the Embassy could present an opportunity for us to get to the Dictaphone.’

  Hattie nodded at Geraint and the whiteboard screen updated to three columns, each headed up with photos of Ronald Bowcott, Suzannah Sheldon and Neil Hicks.

  ‘Let’s move on to the three Pigs.’ Hattie turned to Geraint and Pixie. ‘Now you’ve been through all the data and recordings, anything to note?’

  ‘No obvious red flags,’ said Geraint. ‘It seems the only conversations the couples have are what to have for dinner, what to watch on TV. And then silence.’

  I was tempted to interject with: ‘It could be a companionable silence’.

  ‘There are no hushed phone calls and there’s no unusual internet activity – apart from George Pig’s wife Kate googling herself ten times a day,’ added Pixie.

  ‘She’s an actress,’ I offered.

  ‘Oh. Right. Well, yeah, that explains that then.’

  Geraint said, ‘The only questionable contact to note is George Pig receiving unusual emails to his private account. We’ve been working on them for the last few hours and if they’re in code we can’t crack it.’

  ‘What address are they from?’ asked Hattie.

  ‘Just a random Hotmail address that isn’t in his contacts,’ said Pixie. ‘The last couple said, While I slice the final sandwich, tell me how you won the prize and, He will travel further than the end of the world in search of a worthy person.’

  ‘They sound like junk or a phishing scam,’ said Jake.

  ‘We thought that at first too,’ said Geraint, ‘but they go straight into his inbox. And he reads them. He’s been getting them every week for the last month.’

  ‘Frederick told me he had a day off last Thursday. It could be linked to that. Look into his movements that day and see what comes up.’

  Geraint tapped into his laptop and ‘Coded emails, day off Thursday’ came up under George Pig’s photo.

  ‘Peppa’s been textin’ someone on a pay-as-you-go mobile,’ said Pixie. ‘They seem to be trying to set up a meet – lots of back and forth with times, dates and locations. Soon as they sort a definite plan we’ll let you know.’

  ‘Texts with Unknown Subject’ was added to Peppa Pig’s column.

  ‘Daddy Pig emailed a man called Daniel Wheal, a banker at Goldman Sach, saying he would meet him at the Christie’s Asian art exhibition on Sunday for the “handover”,’ said Geraint. ‘We can’t find anything on Wheal. He seems legit.’

  The fact Daddy Pig had arranged a meet at an event where Peng would be in attendance, combined with his night away, made him my current leading choice for being the Snake.

  ‘How are we doing on where Daddy Pig was when he was meant to be away in Birmingham?’

  ‘There was no sign of Daddy Pig after leaving the office at 7.34 p.m.,’ announced Geraint. ‘Nothing on his credit cards. His mobile phone remained in the vicinity of Vauxhall the whole night.’

  I frowned. ‘Sounds like he could’ve left his phone at the office and gone walkabout. Naomi reported Daddy Pig has another Birmingham trip planned for Friday. Have we learned anything from their online history?’

  Geraint looked up. ‘There’s been a lot of activity on Daddy Pig’s home computer. But it looks more like only the wife uses it.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’ I asked.

  Geraint tilted his laptop screen towards me.

  Google: Normal to wee a bit when sneeze?

  Google: How to strengthen pelvic floor?

  Google: Strong pelvic floor better for sex?

  Google: Reasons husband not interested in sex

  Google: How many times a year need to have sex so marriage not classed sexless?

  Google: Does it matter if marriage sexless?

  www.dailymail.co.uk/marriages-need-sex-to-survive

  www.dailymail.co.uk/seven-day-diet-cleanse

  www.dailymail.co.uk/poldark-hottie-strips-off

  www.amazon.co.uk/poldark-boxset

  ‘Right. I see your point.’

  ‘I’ve double-checked the security of the links. They’re all genuine. There aren’t any dummy websites leading through to a chatroom.’

  ‘Keep monitoring everything just in case,’ said Hattie as Geraint added ‘Birmingham trips, Daniel Wheal’ to Daddy Pig’s column.

  Pixie looked over at me. ‘Poppet, did you spot anything out of place in Daddy Pig’s emails from the children’s schools?’

  I shook my head. ‘Nothing jumped out as suspicious or coded.’ I’d skimmed through the folder Pixie emailed me on the tube this morning and, after reading the tenth letter from the school on subjects ranging from nit infestations to name-taping requirements, I was starting to dread just exactly what lay ahead. There was so much to remember.

  ‘OK, so these,’ Hattie motioned to the three Pigs’ columns, ‘are our working leads. G and Pixie, you focus on chasing these down. And Lex and Frederick can keep working on getting us some more.’

  The slide on the whiteboard was now replaced with a list of thirty names. Four of which had a line through.

  ‘Hackers,’ Hattie announced. ‘How’s it going, Jake and Cameron?’

  ‘Slow-going,’ said Jake, ‘but we’re getting there. We’re working through the list by area. Trying to save time by focusing our interrogations to a designated postcode.’

  ‘It’d be much quicker if you approved the cattle-prod,’ added Cameron.

  ‘It’s not happening, Cameron,’ Hattie told her. ‘Remember, you find just one hacker that works for Tenebris and we can shut them down. Keep at it. Within reason.’ He shot a look at Cameron.

  The whiteboard changed again, this time to a photo of a clown.

  ‘Not this guy,’ groaned Jake. ‘I hate the creepy sod.’
>
  ‘I got confirmation from one of my sources an hour ago that the Clown is in town and meeting with a contact this afternoon about an upcoming hit. There is a strong chance he could be the Coyote the Chinese People’s Alliance have hired to assassinate Peng.’

  The Clown was a notorious Spanish assassin. The only photos of him on file were in full make-up and costume. No one had any idea of his real name or what he really looked like. In the days leading up to a kill he would never not be in character, hiding out in the open. People may always remember a clown but what did it matter if you couldn’t ever find them? Or describe them? And it meant anywhere he went while tracking his target his real face was never seen. If he were here now in London, prepping for a hit, arranging a meet, that would mean he would be in costume. And there were only so many places a clown could hang out during the day without drawing undue attention.

  ‘Are there any circuses currently in town?’

  ‘Checkin’ now,’ said Pixie. There was a flurry of key tapping and then, ‘No circuses. Closest we have is a funfair that’s on at Ravenscourt Park.’

  ‘A funfair is a good place for a clown assassin to arrange a meet with someone,’ I said. ‘He’ll be wanting to pick up the intel face to face. The noise, the chaos will mean they don’t worry about anyone listening.’

  ‘Lex, you’ve met him before. Head down there and try and find him. Talk to him peer-to-peer. If it’s not him he might know who did book the job.’

  ‘The funfair doesn’t open until lunchtime,’ said Pixie. ‘So an afternoon meet there fits.’

  ‘I can go after I’ve picked up Gigi from school.’

  ‘Take Frederick with you. If the Clown is the Coyote then Frederick might recognise whoever he’s meeting. If the Snake isn’t going in person they could send someone in their circle.’

  The whiteboard screen now showed a black slide with just a quote in white cursive script on it.

  ‘What you seek is seeking you – Rumi.’

  Whereas our previous unit leader would end briefings with vicious swear words and a graphic description of the violence we could be subjected to if we screwed up, Hattie liked to finish on an inspirational quote. Yes, it doubled as a warning, but in a much more tactful way.

  ‘You all know what you need to do. Let’s get on with catching ourselves a Snake and a Coyote.’

  I checked my watch. It was time to depart for a WAF meeting at George Pig’s house. A coffee morning followed by picking up Gigi from nursery and taking her to a funfair.

  It was great getting to do normal mum things.

  Just with the small ulterior motive of trying to locate a traitor who was compromising the existence of the Security Services.

  Chapter Eleven

  INTERROGATIONS USUALLY TAKE PLACE in a box-like room. Food and water are withheld. Questions are fired at the target until they relent.

  Undercover attempts to garner information were much more pleasant. Here we were in Kate and George Pig’s very beautiful, very white home, sipping on soy lattes.

  Kate had started to unburden her frustrations at George Pig never getting up in the night:

  ‘He says there’s no way he can decide on matters of national security without a full night’s sleep and that me doing it is helping keep the country safe.’

  Naomi on Daddy Pig coming home drunk:

  ‘He claimed it was part of his cover. He must think I’m stupid.’

  Dionne on Peppa not being able to get home at a designated time:

  ‘She says, “I can’t tell the President of Brazil’s security team we need to cut this meeting short as my nanny has dinner plans.” ’

  Kate on George Pig forgetting a wedding anniversary:

  ‘He missed all my hints about a weekend at Babington House. Ignored the Tiffany’s brochure with the earmarked pages. Claimed that it was because the week before he’d been testing an experimental truth serum and a side effect was memory loss.’

  Kate bit her lip. ‘Yes, jewellery would’ve been nice but it’s more about being reminded that you matter, that you haven’t been forgotten about.’

  Naomi reached over and patted her hand before reaching for the coffee pot and filling up everyone’s mugs. She fussed over us all: tucking in Dionne’s jumper label, mopping up a splash of milk off the countertop, handing a tissue to Camilla the second she sneezed.

  ‘I totally get what you’re saying, Kate,’ said Dionne as she curled a finger around one of her plaited pigtails. ‘Sometimes I really feel a hug or a “Hey, wow, Dionne, aren’t you doing great?” would make me feel like I was really valued.’

  I thought, considering the amount Peppa was paying her, Dionne should get over the lack of hugs and compliments. She was leaving at the end of the month to go back to Australia. I figured losing her nanny was a point against Peppa being the Snake. Surely the stress of finding replacement childcare would rule out having the time to sideline in betraying your country.

  I looked over at Camilla. In her tailored black trousers and striped silk shirt she looked the part of efficient businesswoman but she didn’t seem able to fully engage with whatever we were talking about. She’d drift off towards the garden while we were in the middle of a conversation. Seated at the table, untouched cup of coffee in front of her, she had only nodded vacantly to my enthused declaration that our daughters were friends and that we lived close to each other. I wondered if Frederick knew this when he married her. That she was a beautiful Barbie doll living in another world. I pictured her in her slick Mayfair gallery. Files piled up on her desk as she stared out the window. Had she always been like this? Had he once found it charming? Why did I care? I shook it off.

  By the time the coffee morning was drawing to a close the only mission-relevant information I’d learned was that Daddy Pig had cancelled dinner tonight with Naomi and her mother. A man avoiding spending time with his mother-in-law was normal behaviour opposed to suspicious, but we needed to know exactly what he was doing instead.

  ‘My mother will be so disappointed,’ Naomi was continuing to fret.

  ‘I haven’t spoken to my mother in two years. She hasn’t even met the twins,’ said Kate.

  ‘Oh Kate. I’m so sorry.’ Naomi’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’m OK with it. She’s a total bitch.’

  Which kind of drew an end to the conversation.

  By the time I got up to leave, the women were swapping Instagram handles. They were officially becoming friends.

  *

  ‘Hello, parents,’ Ms Yvonne greeted the crowd of us waiting from the top of the Portakabin steps. ‘We’ve had such fun with our artwork today. We’ve been learning how to paint like Picasso. Lots to take home for Mummy and Daddy.’

  Great. More crap to leave in a pile in the corner of the kitchen for a few weeks before I guiltily dropped it in the bin once Gigi was in bed.

  Frederick joined me. ‘More art? We’re running out of space.’ He looked so earnest in this concern I didn’t feel I could share with him my storage area for the more questionable pieces.

  As we left the nursery courtyard I briefed Frederick on this afternoon’s funfair operation.

  He pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll let Camilla know I won’t be back until later.’

  Gigi and Florence were twenty feet behind us, plodding along slowly, each laden down with their art folders. I went to join them as Frederick spoke to Camilla.

  I knew how to get them to speed up. ‘Girls, we’ve got great news for you. We’re going to the funfair now.’

  ‘Hurrah hurrah hurrah.’ The two of them jumped up and down. Gigi flung herself at me. ‘Best mama ever.’

  They both thrust their folders into my arms and skipped ahead.

  I re-joined Frederick as he was returning his phone to his pocket. ‘Do you ever,’ he turned to look at me, ‘think about how often you need to lie to the person you’re married to?’

  ‘We don’t lie about the big stuff. That has to count for something.�
�� Frederick was not the person to be opening up to over any marriage insecurities I might be having.

  ‘But there’s a big part of your life, a big part of you, that this person you share a home with, share a family with, knows nothing about.’ He chewed his lip. ‘I often think if Camilla knew how high-pressured the job could be maybe I’d get more support from her.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Camilla is . . . Well, she finds a lot of things difficult. I try and help as much as I can. What’s important to me is that Arthur and Florence are well looked after. Camilla just needs a little reminding of that now and again.’

  Frederick was only confirming my opinion of Camilla. I guessed she’d grown up privileged and didn’t need to work for anything. Didn’t need to concentrate on mundane day-to-day details as she’d always had someone else to do it for her. She could float around enjoying living in a nice house, going for nice lunches and do some light dabbling in the art world to feel she had something to say for herself at dinner parties. But surely no matter how privileged she was nothing made you stop being selfish more than having children? It wasn’t about you anymore but them. That was pretty much the first lesson of parenthood. It was strange that she hadn’t shifted her focus.

  ‘Adjusting to motherhood can be tough. I know it didn’t come easily to me at first. It’s still not easy. There’s always a worry you could be doing more. That you could be doing better.’

  ‘Come on, you’re killing it. Anyone can see that.’

  I glowed a little.

  And tried not to think of how Will never congratulated me on what I was doing right. That he just drew attention to what I was doing wrong. Kate was right when she’d been complaining about George Pig. We all needed to feel valued. To feel cared about.

  And I wasn’t getting that from Will. He wasn’t a partner wanting to help me solve problems, he was just being the problem. Calming him down was just another task to tick off an ever-growing to-do list.

  He was right when he said we were in trouble.

  But until now I hadn’t realised how much.