by Ted Tayler
The three men looked at one another and decided discretion was the better part of valour. Alastor was absent. Minos had heard Athena going through his revised duties for the day as he left his apartment earlier. Best to ride out the storm.
The hive of activity that followed had quietened now, and as Ambrosia turned her car between the stone pillars at the end of the driveway, Athena carried out her final checks on the results of their combined handiwork. Inside and out, the old building looked spotless. The lawns were immaculate, every flower that even threatened to need ‘dead-heading’ had disappeared from the borders.
Phoenix was by her side, and when they visited the walled garden, he was convinced the carrots stood to attention. He looked back over his shoulder as he left. Had his eyes deceived him? No, each plant had been given a haircut. There wasn’t a yellowed leaf or untidy piece of greenery in sight. It reminded him of the array of prize vegetables at a village fete.
“I feel like a judge from the Gardening Guild,” he muttered.
Athena gave him the stare.
“Did you make sure the outbuildings are in as good a shape as this?” she asked.
“I did, and I almost wish I was still living in the old stable block. It was never that clean when Rusty and I were neighbours. Those trainers and their trainees don’t know they’re born. It will be even better when the faint smell of paint fades.”
Athena was too busy checking her list to react to that one. Her mind had moved on to other matters.
“Daddy rang back last night, while you cleaned up the orangery. They are ecstatic over the prospect of having Hope stay with them even if it’s only for twenty-four hours.”
“You never know, if we let our hair down at James and Elizabeth’s party, it could be longer. Neither of us can drive back until we’re sober, with our baby on board.”
“Heaven’s; is that the time?” Athena yelled and dragged Phoenix into the house through the side door, and into the kitchens. They ran along the corridors to the main hallway and arrived just as Henry escorted Ambrosia through the front door.
“Athena was expecting you,” Henry said, “they’ll be along in a minute, I’m sure. Ah, here they come now.”
“Thank you, Henry,” said Athena. “Good morning, Ambrosia and welcome to Larcombe Manor. Excuse me, are you alright?”
Ambrosia dabbed at her eyes with a damp tissue. She was clearly distressed.
“I was fine until I negotiated the long driveway,” she replied, “but I suffer from hay fever. I know to avoid exposure to grass and weed pollen in the summer months. That’s why I’ve always lived in the city since I was a small child. Your grass has just been mowed and my eyes and nose started streaming before I parked my car.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Athena, “if only we had known.”
She took Ambrosia’s arm and led her away from the open door towards the relative sanctuary of their apartment. The guided tour of the gardens was on hold.
Phoenix told Henry, Minos would chair the meeting this morning, as he and Athena entertained their guest. Henry looked at his watch.
“I might as well stay in the building. The meeting gets underway in twenty minutes.”
Henry nodded after the disappearing Athena and Ambrosia.
“It’s unusual to receive a visit from one of our senior people. She seems young. What a shame she suffers from an allergy such as that.”
“Is it?” said Phoenix. “I thought it was reassuring to learn she wasn’t perfect. That’s the impression she tried to give to everyone since I’ve met her. I wonder whether she has an aversion to the smell of fresh paint? If so, we could spend her entire visit indoors. Such a pity after the effort everyone’s made.”
Phoenix trailed along the corridor after the two women. Henry Case scratched his head as he watched him walk away. He admired Phoenix, and what he’d achieved since arriving here, but there were days when he couldn’t make him out. Why would another person’s discomfort cause the man to have the widest smile he’d seen on his face in months?
When Phoenix reached their apartment door, he heard Athena introducing Ambrosia to Maria Elena. He entered the room, and Hope gave him her full-beam smile. Life didn’t get much better than this, he thought.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, gathering his daughter up into his arms.
“Maria Elena is taking Hope for a walk in the garden, as it’s such a lovely day,” said Athena, “so, don’t get too comfortable.”
Ambrosia’s mood seemed to lighten at the news of Hope’s imminent departure. Phoenix knew she had never married. Had her father tried to arrange suitable marriages for her, and she’d dismissed them out of hand? He couldn’t remember. He would check with the Two Amigos later.
Perhaps her maternal instinct hadn’t kicked in; if so, he might have sympathy for her. Piya Adani didn’t know what she was missing. He handed his daughter back to her nanny and watched as the two of them headed for the gardens. Maria Elena collected Hope’s buggy on the way, and Phoenix sighed. He would rather be outside in the sunshine.
This upcoming session with the ambitious Ambrosia promised to be a lecture on how to recruit agents, not an exchange of views. That was the Larcombe way, and he preferred it.
“Are we ready to get started?” asked Athena.
“I’m ready,” said Phoenix.
Ambrosia blew her nose.
“Things are settling down, thank goodness,” she said, “thank you for allowing me the chance to visit. This is such a beautiful area. I would love to spend time in Bath itself. It has so much history, and yet it’s very much a modern city too. The university is highly thought of, and you have a famous men’s rugby club, and ladies’ netball team.”
Phoenix knew of the university, but the sporting references came as a surprise to him. These things had never been on his radar. He tried to keep up with a few highlights, for those long journeys with Rusty. Otherwise, conversation dried up fast. Rusty wanted to chat for as long as possible because he knew Phoenix would fill the silence with his brand of rock music. For some strange reason Phoenix couldn’t fathom, Rusty wasn’t a fan of Iron Maiden and Judas Priest.
“We have a good selection of Indian restaurants too,” he said, “other nationalities are available, of course.”
“I’m sure,” said Ambrosia, her dark eyes flashing her annoyance.
Phoenix knew he had crossed a line, but he wasn’t taking a backward step with this woman. He was his own man. Athena rounded off a few of his sharp edges in the past four years, but the rebel in him lay only just under the surface.
“In Manchester, you intimated that you had a more inventive proposal to speed up the pace of recruitment, and training of additional agents,” said Athena.
“When I sold my business last October, I looked for areas in which my wealth would do the most good. I researched my local community of Leeds and was invited to join the Board of Trustees for a homeless charity in the city. That was the first of several groups I became involved with, and then I was approached by a national association. When you are no longer spending fourteen hours a day from Monday to Friday running a business, you have spare time on your hands. I had nobody to share my weekends with, so the initial seventy hours were extended by those I spent writing reports and researching the opposition.”
“Can I get us a coffee?” asked Phoenix.
This felt like the start of a long morning. Both women nodded their appreciation, and he disappeared into the kitchen.
“This may have been what led the Olympus Project to my door,” Ambrosia continued, “I believe in everything you do. My money will help in the fight against evil. I still stay in touch with my local charities. It’s apparent from my experiences with them that one group of people might prove to be a valuable resource.”
“I brought chocolate biscuits too,” said Phoenix as he backed through the kitchen door with a tray.
“Thank you, darling,” said Athena, as she picked up her cup.
“He�
�s very domesticated, isn’t he?” Ambrosia said to Athena, “my father never made a cup of tea, or coffee for my mother in forty years of marriage.”
She looked up at Phoenix, who moved back to his seat opposite her and Athena.
“It’s difficult to equate the image of the man of action I had from how Zeus describes you, with the husband and father I see in his home surroundings. How can you separate the two?”
“This is the real me,” replied Phoenix. “Circumstances throughout my life have forced my alter ego to the surface. Evil doesn’t exist within the boundaries of Larcombe Manor; therefore, I can switch off as soon as I drive through the gates. When I’m sent on a mission, it’s because a crime has been committed that the system has failed either to identify or to punish. That’s when I transform into a stone-cold killer.”
Athena shivered. Ambrosia hesitated and found it hard to continue.
“Please, take your time, and carry on Ambrosia,” said Athena.
“My work in Leeds encouraged me to look across the country to gauge the true scale of the problem. Homeless charities estimate seven thousand ex-servicemen and women are living on the streets. Men and women who have served their country in Kosovo, Iraq, and Afghanistan living rough; in desperate need of a roof over their head. Instead, thousands of empty properties are going to asylum seekers. It’s not right.”
Phoenix almost choked on his digestive biscuit. This girl spoke his language.
“The Armed Forces Covenant was introduced two years ago to tackle this problem,” he spluttered.
“I know, and the Community Covenant was to operate at a local level,” agreed Ambrosia. “It was supposed to ensure our heroes took priority on affordable housing. Ninety-seven per cent of local authorities signed up to it. The Department for Communities and Local Government don’t even know how many armed forces veterans need or have received housing in the UK.”
“This goes back to the housing associations, doesn’t it?” asked Athena.
“Local authorities have handed the affordable housing problem on to a third party,” sighed Ambrosia, “they simply pass the buck. Only a dozen associations from the register of over fifteen hundred signed up to the Covenant. That means they have no binding obligation to help veterans.”
“You are aware of our charitable status here at Larcombe,” said Athena. “We pass off fully fit ex-servicemen as veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. In no way, do we belittle the condition, and our financial support in that area is well documented. We know that veterans with mental illness can wait for two years to get medical help and therapy through channels approved by the authorities. By the time they receive help, a number have attempted suicide; a significant number are successful. These are men and women scarred by the horrors of war. They deserve far better.”
“What I saw in Leeds shocked me,” said Ambrosia. “Life on the streets is the gateway to a downward spiral into addiction and crime. These people came home after years of brave service in defence of their country. Whatever help the government is offering is ineffective. I want to give each of them a roof over their heads, a purpose in life, and where necessary get them treatment for their PTSD.”
“The Covenant’s wording needed to be specific,” added Phoenix. “It should have read that social housing ‘must’ rather than ‘should’ go to veterans. We have the most dedicated, professional troops in the world, and how we treat them once their military service is over, is a disgrace. What I wish to hear, Ambrosia, are your ideas on how you would find these homes for heroes?”
“First, we need to identify where they are,” she replied, “and then determine how many need urgent treatment for PTSD. It could be as high as forty per cent. Charities such as those I’ve worked with can increase the lobbying of the authorities for action to redress the problem. My aim is to concentrate our attention on the remaining four thousand veterans. I propose we find them accommodation in their region. It might be a flat, a hostel, or even a bunkhouse. Anything that gets them off the streets, and as soon as possible, eligible for benefits. Olympus would offer financial support in the short term, to prevent them from slipping back into homelessness, in return for their help. Did you ever read Sherlock Holmes when you were a child, Phoenix?”
“I can’t say I did,” he replied, “I studied Shakespeare, and Milton, while at school. My mother forced me to go to work as soon as I was old enough. I never found the time to read for fun after that.”
“I think I can see where this is heading,” said Athena, “you’re referring to his Baker Street Irregulars.”
“Exactly,” said Ambrosia, with more enthusiasm, as she sensed Athena warming to the cause, “the street urchins led by the older boy called Wiggins. Holmes paid the gang a shilling per day, plus expenses, to collect information for his investigations. With an extra guinea prize for a vital clue. They knew the streets of London like the back of their hand, and every dirty deed that took place on them.”
“Four thousand veterans spread across the entire country, with a grudge against the system,” said Phoenix, thinking through the possibilities. “Men and women who feel abandoned by their country. We must act fast to capture their hearts and minds before extreme factions step in and twist their arm. They could be tempted to take the wrong road. In return for our help in getting them back on their feet, they could continue to play the role of living rough and become our eyes and ears on the streets. It will involve a good deal of work, but it’s an ingenious plan.”
“How will they get away with pretending to be homeless, when they’re not?” asked Athena.
“Are you serious?” asked Phoenix. “Beggars on the streets of every major city leave their pitch with their dog in the evening and jump into a BMW with the cash they’ve collected. It’s just playing a role.”
“So, how do we manage that subterfuge?” Athena asked.
“It won’t be difficult for old soldiers such as Rusty, Bazza, and Thommo to show them the ropes, and train them in what to say if challenged. We train undercover agents on how to survive in the field every day.”
“I knew I could rely on Larcombe to devise systems under which our Irregulars could operate,” said Ambrosia. “The trick is to convince sufficient numbers to work for us, without eroding the overall security of the Project.”
“Good point,” said Athena. “Four thousand extra personnel sounds manna from heaven, but for much of their time, they would be inactive. After a settling-in period, they would only get paid for information received.”
“OK, are we both agreed the basic idea is sound, Athena,” said Phoenix.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Good, then I suggest we involve the entire senior staff here at Larcombe. Ambrosia can give us support throughout the process. Giles and Artemis will begin identifying where these veterans are located. Minos and Alastor will begin the hunt for suitable accommodation. When they have costings available, Athena will communicate those with Zeus, and urge him to release the necessary funds. As for the vetting procedures, and the training, that will be the responsibility of Henry and Rusty. One month from today we three will meet again to discuss progress.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Ambrosia. “I’m so happy.”
“I think we’ve earned a rest,” said Athena, “do you feel up to a tour of the building? After lunch, perhaps we can show you our beautiful gardens, and the other facilities at our disposal?”
“I can’t wait to see everything,” replied Ambrosia. “I have only one request; do you have a tissue I can borrow, please?”
Phoenix heard the door opening and the sound of laughter. It was Hope as she tottered alongside Maria Elena. The squeals of delight as she accomplished those early steps brightened the day even more. Despite his reservations about Ambrosia, Phoenix was forced to admit that things were improving.
CHAPTER 5
Tuesday, 8th July 2014
Athena, Phoenix, and Ambrosia were satisfied with the results of their meeting ye
sterday.
As she drove back north, Ambrosia felt as if she had formed the basis of an alliance. She was younger than her two fellow gods and newly appointed, but other colleagues at the head of the Project were elderly and coming to the end of their tenure.
Her ambitious nature encouraged her to aim for the top. Her late father drilled this into her from an early age. He also said the best way to achieve your goal was to keep your opponents as close as possible. You learned more of their strengths and weaknesses that way. You learned nothing if you operated as a lone wolf.
The three of them had enjoyed an excellent meal, with fresh vegetables and fruit from the garden. The senior team at Larcombe Manor didn’t live in the lap of luxury and squander money the Project provided, but they pulled out the stops to ensure she was impressed.
Perhaps they already feared her; it was early days. If they didn’t, then in time they would come to realise the threat she posed. Her ambition was overall control of Olympus. Nothing less would satisfy her.
Phoenix and Athena had stood on the steps of the old manor house, with little Hope, and waved goodbye to Ambrosia as she drove away.
“That turned out better than I dared hope,” said Athena.
“We needn’t have done so much cleaning,” said Phoenix. “Her allergy prevented her from seeing much outside this building. I’ve had to change my opinion of her massively. Her Irregulars proposal was a surprise. That really has legs. I can’t wait to get people started on identifying possible candidates around the country.”
“Let’s enjoy the sunny afternoon, and sleep on it tonight,” suggested Athena. “We can put the ideas forward at tomorrow’s morning meeting.”
“Good idea,” Phoenix agreed. “What do you say, Hope, shall we play ball on the lawn?”
Hope’s chubby little hands came together in a semblance of a clap, and a big smile showed her first two teeth on her bottom gum.
