Bridging the Gulf (Aka Engulfed)

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  "If I can help in any way, don't hesitate to ask. I'll do all I can." He stood up and moved to the door. "One thing before I go, it's been a long day. May I take Hanna's palmtop? Maybe our computer boys could find something hidden in there that we may have missed."

  Joan slipped upstairs and brought it to him. He left and she smiled and waved. It was the first time he had seen her smile. He liked it.

  ***

  Roy moved through to the ticket booth, showed his ticket in the name of Eric Miles and embarked. He stood on the deck watching the cars and wagons load. The ferry was larger than the previous one and he had booked himself a cabin. He took some of the chocolate he had bought in Girne from his bag, it would be all that he would eat until he returned to his flat. There were fewer soldiers on this boat and although the holiday season was at an end, he was surprised at the number of Europeans he saw. He moved through to his cabin that proved small but comfortable. The crossing would take all night and they would arrive in Famagusta at around 7am. Once the ship left Mersin he walked the deck, marvelling at the brightness and sheer quantity of stars in the night sky; the starlight almost cast shadows it was so strong. The sea breeze brought a chill that he had not felt since leaving England and he soon returned to the warmth of his cabin. The slow drone of the engines vibrated along every surface but it brought comfort and he slept.

  Bob had been allocated the task of monitoring all ferry arrivals, the morning ferry from Mersin was to be no exception. It appeared in the early haze far in the distance. He sat on the old walls overlooking the harbour. He could see the activities from this vantage point.

  The ferry from Mersin to Famagusta swings round the pan-handle and the sight of the ancient city in the early, clear light of morning is something to behold. Roy, feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep, watched its slow approach. The pilot boat darted through the waters and guided the ship into the harbour. It took twenty minutes before the ship was secure and the cars began to stream from its open stern. Roy collected his belongings and walked towards the exit. He knew a number of the officials at the port and they waved as he came through. It was this friendliness that attracted Bob and he immediately recognised the man who had spotted him in Lefkosa. He turned, not wanting to repeat the incident.

  Roy walked up through the port and stopped at a cafe near the mosque. It was good to be home. Bob had followed as closely as he dared before sitting in a small park opposite. From there he could see both exits of the cafe. Within twenty minutes Roy was on the move. He turned right and walked up to the square. A line of taxis waited, sheltering beneath the large branches of an ancient tree. Roy walked to the third in the line and smiled at the driver shaking his hand firmly. They spoke briefly before they drove out of the square. Bob could only watch. However, he presumed correctly that Roy was going to collect the Vitara.

  ***

  The plain was warm and the cooling breeze from the open windows was refreshing. The car was where he had left it. Roy opened the boot and dumped his bags. From one he took the small anti-bug device and walked around the car. The light flashed as he past the rear bumper. He found it, it was similar to the one planted in the Bergen. Removing it, he walked down towards the local taxis and bent as if to pick something up, sticking the transmitter to the bumper. "That should keep them active." He returned to the car and drove out towards the castle.

  ***

  The Bergen was where he had left it and, as he had hoped, the contents were intact. He walked back through the forest. No one would see him as Toes had been collected twenty-four hours previously. He loaded the bag into the Vitara and drove to Girne to sort out the other vehicle before heading back towards Gazimagusa. It had all gone as planned.

  Bob and Pippa had responded to the activation of the transmitter they believed was still attached to Roy's car but they had learned a lesson. They monitored the car's progress and only when they felt it directed them away from Famagusta would they take up the chase. Initially confused by the erratic movements after monitoring the vehicle for some hours did they put two and two together.

  "He found both transmitters; you’d be wise to shut down the infinity device in the flat in case he sweeps that too," suggested Bob. "We can get a visual when he comes home."

  Pippa dialled the flat’s number and the bugs were deactivated, even the one in the kitchen responded and slept. It would be the most strategic move they would make.

  The black Vitara pulled up near the flat and Roy climbed out. He was tired and looked forward to a shower. However, he waited and watched, ensuring he had not been followed. He carried his bags into the flat as quietly as possible and checked the room for bugs, there was nothing. He paid particular attention to the telephone but it appeared clean. He stripped and showered. He would make contact with his friends in the Bank of Northern Cyprus later. He had a rather large deposit to attend to.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Joan did not return to school; she was not expected. She prepared herself mentally for her ordeal. Pat Peters and Stephen Walsh had called early to take her to the station, they had little time to prepare Joan for what was in store. Now that she had agreed to co-operate there was a warmer atmosphere, she felt amongst friends and that helped her. They had heard the conversation between her and Sam the previous night, they had heard the turmoil that the long and lonely night had brought but they were amazed by her resolve to co-operate and if possible, help Roy come to terms with the problem and face his responsibilities.

  They needed the computer that Roy carried; that, they felt, was the key. If he were never parted from it all the timings and details would be there. They explained that she would not be alone on the island; already there were two people monitoring Roy, they lied. They were there to support her and collect the computer from her if and when she managed to locate it. They had decided the best possible way would be to do a swap with the one Roy had left in the study, he might not notice until after Joan's departure if he purely used it for the one purpose.

  She was given a series of telephone numbers and an identity of May, she laughed at the thought of being some kind of agent. They assured her that it would receive an immediate response whomsoever she called. They also gave her a small mobile telephone that would connect her to the army HQ in the South of the island; this should only be used in an emergency. It would never ring and so, she was assured, it could be easily concealed. They showed her how to use the phone and requested she familiarise herself with it; they even told her the opening sentence she must use.

  Her head began to swim more with the covert nature of her visit rather than the information she had to remember. In twenty-four hours she would be travelling there for real and that brought her to earth with a bump. She suddenly began to feel scared and insecure.

  "Remember, Joan, it's the same Roy you’re going to see, the guy you've lived with for months. Remember too that he still loves you and wouldn’t harm you. Remember it, Joan, and let it give you strength. What you are doing you are doing as much for him as anyone."

  ***

  The flight was uneventful. She did not have to change planes, landing in Izmir briefly before continuing to Cyprus. There was a ruling that planes could not travel to the northern side of the island without first landing in Turkey. Formalities concluded, she continued on the final leg. It was dark when the wheels kissed the tarmac and another forty minutes before Joan met Roy. They were right: this was no monster, just a man alone, waiting in the corner of arrivals. His face said it all and his eyes sparkled when he saw her. He moved through the small crowd and held her tenderly. They kissed a long greeting and when she pulled away she could see there was a tear in his eye.

  No matter now what he had done, what evil had been perpetrated, she had to help him. Standing there was the man she had loved dearly, a man confused and injured. She felt ashamed that she had damned him.

  "You’ll never know just how much I've missed you." He kissed her forehead. He put his finger below her chin, lift
ed her face and kissed her wet eyes. "Come on home, the flat's cold without you."

  After a brief chat about the flight they were quiet, Roy concentrating on the unlit road. The landmarks were bringing back memories. There was no real uneasiness and Joan felt more comfortable than she could have hoped.

  "I thought you'd have been bronzed from your days on the beach." Joan looked across and slipped her hand on his knee, more out of habit than a sign of affection.

  "The autumn sun is not that strong, but I'm darker skinned than I was, believe me."

  The flat was as she remembered and before long they were sitting drinking tea in the kitchen.

  "Tired?" Roy covered her hand with his.

  "It's a long flight, it's been a long half term and I'm bushed."

  "To bed with you then young lady." He moved the cups and led her through to the bedroom. He brought in her case and laid it on the bed. "Shout should you need anything." He left the room. Joan sat on the bed and sighed. She had planned different strategies for coping with the awkwardness of this night, the physical contact and eagerness were a small part of the overall charade, if, in the cool late evening, it was a charade; she was so confused.

  The shower was warming and the tension drained from her, the scent of soap filled her nostrils and she relaxed. Roy stood in the doorway; the cold glass of the cubical condensed the droplets until they ran in rivulets down the glass. Her hazy body was seductive in its mystery. He removed his clothes.

  "Is there room for me in there? It looks so inviting."

  Joan turned to see Roy naked in the bathroom. She opened the door and he stepped inside. She wrapped her hands in his hair and kissed him. This was no make-believe and his tenderness betrayed the evil that he had become. For the moment she closed her mind to the past week and indulged in the present in which she felt more in control.

  The morning was bright and sunny as Roy brought in the breakfast. "Where to today?"

  "Take me to your castle, again. The one with the views of Girne."

  "There are other castles just as beautiful that I'd love to show you. I think you need some time on the beach. Salamis is inviting and the water is still warm. I'll take you to the castle on Thursday."

  Joan could understand his concern at travelling back to St Hilarion. She knew that he had used this for his collection point and she was determined that they should go there, that the bombings come out in the open. Until then she would try to locate the computer. "You told me I could choose today and I'd love to visit your castle, but the swimming sounds good. Maybe a day on the beach is what I need right now."

  "Your wish is my command."

  The deserted beach was ideal. Joan swam in the clear water and looked at the ruins of the sea wall below her. Roy watched her from the sand. She was a strong swimmer and spent almost an hour drifting up and down. The water was calm. He called to her, waved the flask of coffee and she swam towards him.

  For the rest of the day they lay on the sand and enjoyed the sun, later they walked through the ruins of Salamis to the car. She kissed his hands. It had been a perfect day.

  The following day Roy went out to see friends and Joan searched for the computer but it was not there. She even looked in the Vitara when she drove alone but with no success.

  On the Tuesday, Roy woke early and as usual brought breakfast to bed.

  "I've a surprise for you today, my girl, so you need to be in the jeep in thirty minutes."

  Joan looked at him. "Where are we going?"

  They drove away from Famagusta and again into the mountains but then dropped through the pine forests. Throughout the journey they talked but never about the future, only of the present and there were silences, not uncomfortable or upsetting in their length, but silences. They passed through a number of small villages until they approached Esentepe, the road broke into three and Roy followed the coast. In the next small village he pulled up outside a large house that was surrounded by a high wall. The whole estate had been renovated and the gates that Roy opened shone with new paint. He climbed back in the car.

  "What's this?"

  "Close your eyes until I ask you to open them, it's your surprise."

  He stopped outside the front door and helped Joan out. He placed a large, cold, metal key in the door and helped her turn it. He pushed open the door.

  "You may open your eyes," he whispered. "Welcome home."

  Before her the marble floor in black and white squares opened into a large hall. The stairs led up to doors on the right and the left. Before entering she stepped back looking at the weathered face; a house of beauty and charm.

  Roy went round opening the wooden shutters, light flooded into every crevice sullying its cosiness. Although devoid of furnishings, the plasterwork and polished wooden floors brought a feeling of warmth. Roy led her from room to room without saying a word until they reached the master bedroom. French-style windows opened onto a stone balcony above the front door. The view was endless, stretching to the coast and the sea beyond.

  "They say on winter days it's possible to see the mountains of Turkey. Do you like it?"

  Joan continued to look at the view and then turned to look at the room. Her face shone with pleasure at the thought of living there. Its seclusion and beauty were perfect.

  "The house is the most beautiful I've seen on the island, Roy, but why are we here?"

  "The house is ours. I've had my eye on it for a while and the price was good. I thought you'd fall in love with it immediately and you have, haven't you?"

  Roy turned Joan to face him and it was only then that she realised that she would never live there, never spend nights in front of its large fires or entertain their friends. Soon they would have no friends, soon there would be no house. She felt like running down the stairs and out into the garden and screaming but that would not help. She had to remain in control, she had to remain normal, if only she could remember what that was.

  "Show me the kitchen and the gardens, Roy." She again tried to ooze enthusiasm and she felt sure that Roy, totally in love with his house, detected nothing.

  They walked round the overgrown gardens, the fruit trees and patios. It would fill their conversation for the rest of the time they were together and it was only Joan who knew that the talk was worthless.

  Bob and Pippa had re-connected the transmitters in the flat, assured that they had waited long enough. They were also concerned about Joan; they were aware of her role and the potential danger she might face. They had no way of knowing where they were but were not too concerned, they would soon find all the information they required when they returned to the flat. They were relieved to see that there was still a relationship, that Joan had kept her head and had not immediately confronted him. They listened to their conversation and their lovemaking, amazed at the façade Joan appeared to maintain, but concerned that she might now not co-operate with the police; there was always the chance that love would prove too strong in the end.

  Chapter Thirty

  Thursday morning was clear and Roy loaded the car for the St Hilarion visit.

  "Sure you wouldn't prefer the house?"

  Joan just shook her head. "A promise is a promise."

  The drive was as she had remembered it, breathtaking and unspoiled. The view of the castle perched so high made her gasp.

  "Stop here please."

  Roy pulled into the side of the narrow road and Joan stood up leaning on the windscreen as she had done in the summer, marvelling at the magnitude of the ruin.

  "Drive on!" she called, still standing up.

  Roy drove carefully up the winding road until he pulled up in the empty car park. They walked slowly through the ruins, Roy explaining to her again the history of the castle. She held his hand. The sun was warm and she wrapped her sweater around her waist. They reached the highest part and sat, appreciating the view.

  "Why have you destroyed all that we have, Roy?"

  Roy's face did not register what she had asked. "Destroyed what
?"

  "Why have you destroyed us, what we had, our love, our hopes and dreams? Why?" She was amazingly controlled, as if she were chastising a four-year-old for betraying a teacher's trust. She looked him squarely in the face, unflinching and intense. "I know about the bombs and I know about the money but I don't know, and I can't really understand, why you feel that our lives are only worth money, that the lives of innocent people are counted out in pounds. Why, for God's sake, why?"

  Roy's body stiffened and shook. The thought of Joan knowing everything was beyond his comprehension. He looked at her and his mouth moved but no words came.

  "Do you really know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea of the pain and suffering you have caused to people, innocent people? It's been a huge game to you, a personal battle for revenge, to get even for what you think the country has done to you. You couldn't get any satisfaction the legitimate way so you decided on this obscene course of action which has now claimed more than your life, more than mine and Christ only knows where it's going to stop. You’ve got to give it up and give it up now, Roy. Try to reclaim some dignity. You said you loved me, but how can you when you live your real life in the shadows?"

  Although the sun still shone brightly, the atmosphere was cold. Joan shivered.

  Roy's body was rigid and his eyes were hard. He lifted his head and moved his face close to Joan's and stared into her eyes, a piercing stare, a stare of a stranger and one that brought fear. There was anger and hatred there. He took a long, slow breath and then stood; leaving her he moved down through the ruins to the Vitara. She sat and watched as he started the engine and drove away furiously, the wheels kicking up the dust, the engine screaming his anger.

  She could not remember how long she sat staring at the blue of the water far below, the houses, the fields. She could not remember the thoughts that stirred in her mind for that was as thick and dark as treacle. She was numb; she had no senses or thoughts.