by Andrea Hicks
‘What?’
I hold my hand up. ‘It’s okay, I left it in the apartment over the coffee shop. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone and I still don’t.’
‘Can you go to family?’ I shake my head. ‘Friends?’
‘None who wouldn’t shop me for the reward.’
He grimaces. ‘Nice.’
He scratches his head and inhales. ‘I’ve got a holiday cottage. Brighton. You can stay there. For now. Until we get this thing sorted out.’
My eyes well up and I brush away the tears. ‘Are you sure, Leopold? You’ll get into trouble if they find out.’
‘I’ll have to tell Mr. Spencer.’
‘What? No!’
‘Nina, put yourself in my place. I’ve worked for the PM since I was lad. He took me on when no one else would. I owe him and he trusts me. I can’t go behind his back. It’s not the way I do things.’
‘Can you give me some time then, before you tell him? Enough to get on a train and get out of here.’
He nods. ‘And I’ll come to the station with you. They won’t be looking for a couple.’
‘They?’
‘Do you think I don’t know who these people are? Cecily Cunningham is a piece of work. She has a posse of guys who are very loyal to her and they’ll kill you as good as look at you.’
‘They didn’t though.’
He frowns and narrows his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘They’ve had opportunities to kill me but it hasn’t happened. This is what I’m trying to explain to you. Who’s after me? Is it Cecily and her thugs, or is it the pharma companies who would do anything to get their hands on me. I don’t know who I should be running from...or to.’
‘My advice is run to no one. Keep yourself safe until you know who you can trust.’
It goes quiet and I watch him as his mind ticks over. He’s good looking in a beefy kind of way, dark-brown hair cut close, broad-shouldered, a day’s stubble on his chin. And he smells good. Shower gel. It suddenly occurs to me it’s been months since I had a hug.
‘Can I trust you?’
He wakes from his thoughts and nods. ‘I’m no threat to you, Nina, but you have to understand the position I’m in. I won’t betray Mr. Spencer. The others mean nothing to me, but he’s been a mentor, and a friend, I suppose. I also understand what it’s like to feel abandoned by everyone, to have no one to turn to. I can only imagine how you must be feeling. You’re being hunted and that sounds like hell to me, but you’re right. They could have taken you out at any time, so why haven’t they?’ I inhale and glance out of the window. ‘And there’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘It seems to me that if you could find out how your blood came to be the way it is your problem is half solved. You know it wasn’t the same route as the others, but it must be similar. There must be a connection that links you and them, something...or someone maybe.’
I stare at him, wishing I had some answers. Anything. ‘Maybe my aunt would know. She’s all I have left really. And my cousins. I had an ordinary upbringing and I’ve never been in hospital until recently, so it’s not like there was an opportunity for someone to give me something.’
‘So call her.’ I look away, the sight of Paul’s body leeching blood in my mind’s eye. ‘What? What is it?’
‘Cain’s people killed Paul, my aunt’s partner. He got too close, contacted a government email address to let them know I was staying with them. Cain got to find out about it somehow and he sent some men to the house. They killed him. It was...awful, disgusting what they did to him. I wasn’t his biggest fan, the guy was a lech, but I wouldn’t have wished that on him. On anyone.’
‘But that wasn’t you. You didn’t kill him.’
‘It was because of me though, Leopold. Wasn’t it? They killed him because of me. I had to leave the house, fast. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to Rochelle. That’s my aunt.’
‘You’ve got nothing to lose by calling her.’
I nod and retrieve the phone Cain and Luna gave me. ‘Cain gave me this phone. D’you think he’ll know who I’m calling or be able to listen to my conversations.’
Leopold frowned, looking worried. ‘Does he know where you are?’
‘I switched it off, but who knows. They have eyes everywhere.’
He opens the door and calls out to another room. ‘Tom, got a minute, mate?’
I stand and hold my hand out to stop him. ‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s fine, he’s a mate. He’s also a techie.’
A guy with a Guns n Roses tattoo on his forearm comes into the room rubbing sleep from his eyes. He’s pale-skinned, with red hair that sticks out at all angles and his clothes look like he’s not only worn them for days but slept in them as well.
‘What?’
‘Need you to have a look at this.’ Leopold hands Tom my phone. ‘We think there could be a tracker on it, or a program so that a remote phone can see who’s being called, maybe even listen in.’
Tom takes the phone and turns it over, flipping off the back. He removes the SIM then pulls a pair of tweezers from his pocket. Leopold grins at me. ‘He always carries those around with him. Never knows when he’s going to need them.’
Tom peers into the back of the phone. ‘Ah ha,’ he says, grimacing
Leopold chuckles and shakes his head. ‘Lives his life like he’s in a James Bond film. What is it?’
‘There’s a tiny chip placed just under the SIM.’
‘Can you get it out?’
‘Gimme a minute. I have finer pair of tweezers in my room.’ I reach for the phone and Tom looks at me in surprise. ‘Er, I need the phone to remove it.’
‘Maybe you could get the tweezers and bring them down here. I need to keep eyes on the phone.’
He nods. ‘Okay,’ and glances a frown at Leopold. On his return he removes a speck from the gap where the SIM card is stored. It looks no bigger than a crumb, but it tells me that Cain wants to know who I speak to and what I’m saying. If I needed anything else to tell me that Cain isn’t on my side, here it is.
Tom holds the speck up to the light. It’s so small I can hardly see it. He squints at it and tuts.
‘What?’ says Leopold.
‘State of the art, tracker and speaker.’
Leopold stares at me. ‘Tracker? So why hasn’t he tried to find you?’
Tom lowers his arm and stares at us both. ‘This is shit-hot stuff, the most recent technology. Who’s after you?’
I shake my head and inhale. None of this has made me feel better. I now know Cain isn’t who he says he is. What the hell am I going to do? ‘I don’t know exactly. That’s the problem.’
‘Cecily Cunningham has Nina on her wanted list.’
Tom bites his lip. ‘Are you that girl on the news, the one with the funky blood?’ I nod. ‘Wow, you...don’t look the same.’
‘That was the idea.’ I sit again, exhausted by trying to outthink, overthink, working out what my next move should be. ‘Presumably Cain knows I’m here. I’m wondering why he hasn’t attempted to grab me.’
‘Because you’re in Downing Street,’ says Leopold. ‘I know you got through, but there’s only one of you and you found a glitch in our security which has now been tightened up. He doesn’t know how you got in. If he’s part of the group hunting you or trying to coerce you in some way he’s probably either MI5 or police. He won’t want to take the security on here. He’ll know it’s “almost’ impenetrable. It’s too big a risk. And maybe he doesn’t want to grab you. Maybe it suits him that you’re on the outside. You said he sprung you from Plan Bee.’
‘Yeah, he did. So are you saying I’m safe if I stay here?’
‘I’m saying you’re safe from him if you stay here. As for Cecily Cunningham...’ He shrugs. ‘That woman is made of stern stuff. If she discovers you’re here I’d say you were minced meat.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You need to know how it is.’
Tom h
as been looking at us, from one to the other, like watching a tennis match. ‘Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?’
Leopold sticks his hands in his pockets and glances at me, pulling a tight smile. ‘Well?’
I hold out my hands and listen as Leo tells Tom my story with me occasionally interjecting. ‘Fuck,’ says Tom. ‘So what now?’
‘Now that you’ve debugged her phone, Nina’s going to call her aunt and find out if she knows anything. Aren’t you, Nina?’
I roll my eyes, reluctant to call Rochelle. As if I didn’t have enough to be scared of, I’m actually frightened of her legendary temper, but more scared that I’ve let her down. ‘I s’pose.’
Tom hands me the phone and I key in her number.
Chapter 17
Camille answers.
‘Nina!’ she cries. ‘Oh my God, we’ve been so worried. Why didn’t you get in touch?’
‘I...I wasn’t sure if I should.’
‘Nina, when are you going to get it through your head you’re family. Mum was so worried.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I had to leave quickly. Something came up.’
‘Are you okay?’ I hear the frown in her voice.
‘Sort of. Is Rochelle there? I need to talk to her.’
‘Sure, just a sec. She’s in the garden.’ I hear her call for her mum. There’s a pause, just background noise, the TV, the boys arguing over a computer game. My stomach rolls when I imagine what she’s going to ask me, and how I’ll answer her. Will I lie? Will I have to lie?
‘Nina?’
‘Hi, Rochelle.’
‘Where have you been? I’ve been so worried. We thought Paul had taken you.’
‘Paul?’
‘He disappeared, just like that. His clothes all gone, all his gear out of the bathroom. Never said a word. I can’t say I’m sorry. I was planning to ask him to leave anyway, but it was a shock that he’d simply walked out. It was like he’d read my mind.’
I swallow. Cain and his...whoever, did a good job removing Paul’s body, the blood and the other stuff smeared across the kitchen floor, and all his clothes and personal items from the house. Rochelle clearly doesn’t suspect a thing. I have to lie, if only by omission. I just can’t tell her the truth.
‘I...I’m sorry, Aunt Rochelle. You loved him once.’
‘Yeah, we can all say that, darlin’. It is what it is. Anyway, I’m so glad you’ve called. Please don’t leave it so long next time.’
‘I also wanted to ask you something.’
‘Ask away.’
‘It’s about Dad.’
‘Okay.’
‘Have you ever heard from him since he disappeared?’
There’s a lengthy pause, and I think I hear a sigh. ‘Why, Nina? Why are you asking about him now?’
I fake a laugh to lighten the moment. ‘I...I had a dream about him and it made me miss him. I just wondered.’ I can feel Leo and Tom’s eyes on me. They’re as curious as I am, but not as emotionally drained. I bite my lip. In my gut I know she knows something, and she’s arguing with herself about telling me what it is. Since I discovered there were more Bee Bloods other than me, I’ve realised that the missing part of my life is Dad. It’s been like a thread running through my consciousness, a wisp of something I can’t get hold of. Yet I know it’s there. ‘I’ve been thinking that I don’t really know much about him. I know you loved him, and you still do. And you must miss him as much as I do. Is there anything you can tell me, Rochelle? Anything?’
‘Can you come here?’
‘No...I’m sorry, not right now. I will, I promise, I want to see you, just not now.’
I hear her swallow and I start to feel nervous. ‘Your dad was...in some kind of trouble. It was why he left. I got the impression it was something to do with the work he did, but he wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was.’
‘Where did he work?’ Bile begins to journey from my stomach to my throat.
‘He called it a government facility, but he didn’t ever talk about it, not even to your mum.’
‘She was devastated when he left.’
‘I’m so sorry, Nina. I’m not sure he just left exactly. I think he either disappeared because he wanted to because he felt it was the safest thing to do, or...’
‘Or what?’
‘Or someone made him disappear.’
‘Why would it have been the safest thing for him to do? I don’t remember there being any worries like that at home. He never spoke about his work, at least not to me, and I don’t think he told mum much either.’
‘You were a child.’
‘I’m not a child now. I need to know, Rochelle.’
Another sigh and a lengthy pause. ‘You know he was a scientist.’
I feel the blood in my veins pulsing through every capillary and rush into my temples where it results in an instant headache. ‘A scientist? What kind of scientist? ’
‘Er, well, as far as I know, and this is all he would say, he was looking for a cure for something. He wasn’t the only one, there was a group of them. They were working for a government department. I didn’t find that particularly unusual, lots of people work for the government. He didn’t say it was secret, I just thought he didn’t discuss it because he was naturally reticent.’ Another pause. I can still hear the TV, but I get the impression Camille and the boys are listening too. ‘He was a quiet man, your dad. Didn’t say much, a gentle giant if you want a description. He was the one we went to with our troubles.’
‘Was?’
‘Sorry, Nina. I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ve always had the feeling he’s still alive, but...he loved you and your mum so much. Do you think he would have abandoned you? Do you think he would have gone off somewhere and not told you where he was? I just don’t buy it.’
‘You didn’t say before, Aunt Rochelle, when I was at the house. I told you Cain was a scientist, but you didn’t mention Dad.’
‘I didn’t think it would be anything to do with Tate, Nina. I just thought it was a coincidence. He wasn’t top dog there, either. He had a boss who ran the show. Let me think.’ There’s another pause. The TV in the background has obviously been switched off because there’s no sound coming from her end now. I picture Camille and the boys listening to their mum with wide eyes. ‘Finch. That was it. It was one of the only things your dad used to talk about, Michael Finch. He was the top scientist in the department. Tate hated him. Finch kept putting Tate down, even if he did something well there’d be snarky remarks about his qualifications. Makes me feel sad just thinking about it.’
‘Wasn’t he qualified?’
‘Yes, of course he was. He was clever, was Tate. So very clever, but too soft for his own good. I know he was working on something new. He said it would bring joy to millions of people, but that it was years off from being used. That’s all he would tell me.’ She stops and I hear her sniff. Tears. For the brother she loved, the man she misses as much as I do. ‘If I’d thought there was a connection I would have said something, Nina. I just didn’t connect the dots.’ It was on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘If you had you would have saved Paul’s life,’ but I’m not ready to tell her yet, and I’m sure she’s not ready to hear it. ‘What will you do now?’
‘I’ve got to find Dad. I have to look for Tate Gourriel.’
‘His name’s not Gourriel, Nina.’
‘What?’
‘Gourriel is your mum’s name. They weren’t married, your mum and dad, and Tate thought it was best for you to take your mum’s name.’
‘Why? Why on earth would he not want me to have his name?’
‘I have no idea. I thought it was strange at the time but...it was their decision.’
‘Mum’s?’
‘No, no not really. She gave in. He was...determined. It was Tate who wanted it that way.’
‘I can’t believe I don’t even know my own father’s last name. Did I know him at all?’
‘You know the love he gave y
ou before he disappeared which counts for everything. That’s more than some kids get.’
‘What’s his name, Aunt Rochelle? What was your name before you married?’
‘Spencer. His name was Tate Spencer.’
I’m stunned. I can barely speak. I stare at Leo, my mouth dropped open.
‘Nina! Nina are you still there?’
I pull myself together and answer. ‘Yeah, yes, I’m still here. Can you repeat that name. There was a crackle. On the connection.’
‘Spencer. It’s your dad’s family name.’
‘Okay.’
‘There’s no point you looking for a Gourriel.’
‘Okay.’ It’s all I can say. I expect to Rochelle’s ears I sound almost monosyllabic, but I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck.
‘You know your mum’s family came from France? Her father anyway. Her mother was English.’
‘No, no I didn’t know.’
There’s a cry of frustration from Rochelle. ‘Christ Almighty, didn’t they tell you anything?’
I swallow hard to try to ease my throat because my mouth’s gone dry. ‘It seems not.’
A tut, then, ‘I don’t know why they wouldn’t have told you. My kids know about their families.’
‘The Spencer side?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where did they come from.’
‘Originally, Spain. They travelled to Cuba in the fifties because of the troubles. Your great grandparents. They were getting on a bit even then.’
‘Then what?’
‘The children from the marriage formed relationships with Cubans. It’s why we have our lovely creamy skin colour. Why we’re all so gorgeous.’ Rochelle chuckles. ‘Then their children formed more relationships, and here we are.’
‘How did they get to England?’
‘Your grandparents, Camilo and Adria came over in the sixties. Adria had her kids young. Tate and me. Your dad was born in ‘77, me in ‘81. There was another, Charo, but she didn’t make it. Born between Tate and me.’
‘Charo. That’s a pretty name.’
‘Yeah.’
I look up and Leo and Tom are watching me. I’m not sure how I’m going to tell them that in truth I have the same family name as the Prime Minister, Edward Spencer. It might mean nothing, but it could mean something. ‘Is Spencer a common name in Cuba?’ I watch Leo and Tom as I say it, and their expressions change to astonishment.
