Cut for Life

by Lucinda E Clarke

  She was right. Within seconds the towel was on the floor and they tumbled into bed. By now Simon knew all the right places to stroke and caress her body in a way her late husband never had.

  While they lay together in the encroaching gloom, he turned to her. “I’ve brought more than a few goodies.” He grinned.

  “Such as?”

  “News.”

  “What news?” Amie flung over her shoulder as she made for the shower.

  “Well,” Simon chuckled. “Great news, news I think you’ll like.”

  “I’m not really in the mood for riddles right now, out with it,” Amie called out over the noise of the water cascading from the showerhead. “I’m not sure what great news you could possibly have which would cheer me up. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember? Leaving you and Durban and my apartment and my friends ...” Whatever she was going to say was forgotten as Simon opened the door and slid in beside her.

  “My news will cheer you up, I promise.”

  “Stop teasing Simon, not tonight, don’t spoil things.”

  “What would you say ...” he ran his tongue over the tip of her freckled, retroussé nose. “What would you say if I told you I was coming with you?”

  “What!” Amie threw her arms around his neck squashing their noses together. “Ouch! We’re going together! That’s wonderful!”

  “I told you it was good news.”

  Amie stepped back. “Wait a minute, what’s the catch? There’s always a catch.”

  “Ah, well, I’m coming with you but – not right away. But soon, very soon.”

  Amie kissed his nose, then kissed his mouth then slithered, all wet and soapy up against him, “Best we make the most of tonight then.”

  “Well, if you insist Miss Mansell, if you insist.”

  On a Monday night the restaurant was almost deserted and they found a quiet table well away from curious onlookers.

  Amie’s mood had rotated one hundred and eighty degrees. Now she was looking forward to her next assignment. With the two of them together it would be fun, and the new mission suddenly seemed very appealing.

  “So how did all this come about?” she asked, slicing into her steak.

  “I was very persuasive, of course,” Simon grinned. “First I asked for a transfer out of the consulate and into field service. You have no idea how deadly boring that stuff is.”

  “Oh yes! All those awful cocktail parties and receptions, all that free food and gorgeous women just out to seduce you. Yes, of course it is darling.”

  Simon laughed. “Actually, I think they were a bit impressed at how well we work together, and the fact I managed to save your life ...”

  “I think we’re pretty even on that score, Mr Consul,” Amie grinned. “But I do agree we did a pretty good job. So, do you know what they’re after this time?”

  “Only the bare bones as yet. It’s a watch and wait job, report back, and look out for a particular someone they want taken out.”

  “Any idea who? And do we do the taking out?” She shivered. She still didn’t feel comfortable about taking a life, even if she had been trained in several different ways to do just that. She wondered if the average Joe Soap sitting at home watching the goggle box in his semi-detached council house realised the extent of the goings on in the worldwide undercover network. The lies, the subterfuge, the drop boxes, the whispered conversations, the sophisticated listening devices, all in the name of discovering secrets other governments were trying to hide. And was it always purely in the national interest? Wasn’t it sometimes a matter of payback, the posturing not so very different to schoolboys in the playground? The people they put at risk to carry out these clandestine operations were as expendable as last night’s pizza box.

  “Amie. Where have you gone?” Simon’s words broke into her thoughts.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, nowhere. I was just thinking. Sorry, where were we?”

  Simon raised one eyebrow.

  “So, if I’m leaving tomorrow, when and where do you join me?”

  “In Gaborone.”

  “Botswana, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to hang around here for a couple more days, apparently. See the new consul happily installed and then I’ll fly up too.” He paused. “There is just a little hitch though.”

  “Oh yeah! I should have guessed. What is it?”

  “We don’t know each other.”

  “Pretend we just met, yes?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But can we make friends, connect, swiftly build up to where we are now?” Amie simpered.

  “Can’t answer that, Amie – and uh, it will be Felicity again of course.”

  Amie groaned. “I should have asked for another name change when I demanded Animal Farm.”

  “You did what?”

  “I’m changing over from War and Peace. You try lugging a book that size all over the place. One thousand, three hundred pages of a hardback. I checked and George Orwell’s book is only eighty pages. QED. I’m getting the paperback version.”

  “Um, fewer pages, easier to break the code maybe?” Simon queried.

  “That’s their problem.” Amie’s rebellion had not abated any more than her sore toes. “I’m sure rampant Maddy will be able to figure something out.” Amie placed her desert spoon neatly on her plate, wiped her lips with her serviette and peered round for a waiter. “How about we get back and enjoy our last night. You can show me the toys you’ve brought and how I’m supposed to play with them.”

  Simon pulled her chair out before making for the desk.

  The dark-haired, blue-eyed man was pleased with himself. He’d managed to access her flat and still get back to order a meal. They’d been too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to notice him. He watched them leave the restaurant and nodded. He knew who the man was and he would be no problem. He guessed the boyfriend had briefed her about the mission. He didn’t need to worry – everything was going to plan.

  “Wow, that is tiny!” Amie chuckled.

  Simon dug her in the ribs and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “If they made it any smaller, I won’t be able to find it in my handbag.”

  The laptop looked more like a phone yet it was a fully functional personal computer.

  Simon grinned. “See, it has the same functions as your old laptop.” He pointed to the one on the coffee table. “And it’s got a huge memory and can access internet signals even from deep rural areas, so you’ll never be out of touch.”

  “That’s a comfort.” It flashed through Amie’s mind that it would be a magnet for any passing skabengas (criminals) who happened to notice it. She decided to use it as discreetly as possible.

  “This is a new mobile phone,” Simon pointed to the display.

  Amie turned it over in her hand. “Certainly small. Is it Apple or Android? It looks like an iPhone but smaller than the latest models.”

  “No idea. It’s an SIS special.”

  “So,” Amie pressed the button on the side, “is it a different number to my old one?”

  “Yes, and it’s stored under ‘my phone’ in the contacts list.”

  Amie tapped the buttons and noted her new number. She also noted there were no other numbers under contacts. “All my friends? Everything? Gone?” She looked at Simon who simply shrugged. It was yet another reminder that she was truly out on her own, with no one to call if she needed help.

  Simon cleared his throat. “It’s a perfectly ordinary smart phone but it has a world class GPS tracking device in it.”

  “So they will be able to monitor every move I make.”

  “Well, almost. Come here.”

  3 FAMILY TIME

  Present day

  They’ll be able to monitor every move I make. The words jumped into Amie’s head as she stood staring at her parents. Once that thought had been a comfort to her, now, she wasn’t so sure, the cell phone was in her pocket, she never went anywhere without it. Was it precise enough to tell those handler
s in London that she was in a hotel room in Sandton City? What possible excuse could she have for being here when they’d arranged Simisola’s nice little bed and breakfast? She stood frozen for several seconds until her father’s angry voice broke through.

  “Why Amie, why did you pretend to be dead? How could you do this to us?”

  Amie sank down onto the bed. “I’m not supposed to tell you. If I do, I might put you in danger as well and I can’t do that.”

  “What nonsense is this? Did you get into drugs? Have you been in a rehab centre and not had the guts to be honest with us ...?”

  “Wait, wait a minute Ray,” Mary grabbed her husband’s arm. “Give Amie a chance to explain before you go off on a wild goose chase. Listen first before getting all het up.”

  Amie looked at her mother and father. Would they believe her? Could she trust them to keep a secret? What could she possibly say? Added to that was the worry of how to explain to those little grey men in London why she was where she was right now. She put that on the mental back burner for now.

  “I, I ...” she began, still trying to make up her mind then almost without thinking she blurted out, “I’m a spy and I work for the British Government. So now you know.” Amie had no idea what kind of penalties she might face for blowing her cover, but if she lied, then she would either break her parents’ hearts, again, or she would fall over herself trying to cover up one lie after another.

  “You’re what!” gasped her mother.

  “I’m a spy,” she sighed. “I wasn’t killed in the explosion. I was rescued, if you could call it that, and as I was presumed dead, I was the perfect candidate for a change of name and able to – well – find things out.”

  “And we’re to believe this?” Her father scowled.

  “It could well be true,” Mary said. One of her favourite television channels played true life and conspiracy programmes. She was an avid fan of John Le Carré and other writers of the same genre. “We’re not exposed to the truth too often Ray. We’ve both grumbled about the propaganda they spew out on the BBC.”

  “But our daughter!” Ray crumpled into a chair, his head in his hands. “Our daughter?” he repeated.

  “Someone’s got to do it,” his wife replied. Mary seemed almost pragmatic now she’d got over the shock of seeing her dead child come back to life.

  Mary sat on the bed and took Amie’s hands between her own. “If what you’re telling us is true, then we can’t share it with anyone, can we?”

  Amie smiled at her, before whisking her hands away and throwing them round her mother’s neck. “Thank you, thank you for understanding,” she sobbed quietly. “You are so wise. I can only tell you I’m alive and well, and somehow, I’ll find a way to keep in touch, even if it’s not too often. You’ll be the second number in my cell phone.”

  “Cell?” Ray looked up.

  “She means her mobile phone, dear,” Mary explained, passing over her phone so Amie could copy the number in. “Now, how much time have we got together? Can we go out and celebrate tonight?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” Amie shook her head. “If we’re seen together it could blow the whole thing wide open.” She wasn’t going to add that it would be a lot easier for the SIS to make her disappear permanently than to try and explain their lies and her resurrection.

  “I’ll think up some reason for being here in the hotel ...”

  “The lift was empty and there was no one in the corridor when we came up from the restaurant,” argued her father.

  “It’s this,” Amie waved her phone. “The GPS in here tracks me everywhere.”

  “As precisely as that?” Ray raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, that precisely Dad. Technology today is pretty scary! But we can’t waste time. How are Sam and the kids? Is she still with Gerry? Have you retired from the college yet Mum?”

  Ray raided the bar fridge. “This calls for some strong fortification.” He poured the miniature brandies and whiskeys into the glasses without even checking what was what.

  Amie’s nose wrinkled as she took the proffered glass. She seldom drank anything stronger than the odd glass of wine, but now did not seem the right time to refuse and she knocked it back in one, coughing and spluttering.

  Mary slapped her on the back and waited until Amie was calm before answering her question. “Samantha and Gerry are together, at least for the moment. The children are fine, and you should see them now ...” she paused, embarrassed that she’d pointed out the very thing that Amie couldn’t do. “What I mean,” she stammered, “is that Dean and Jade have shot up. They’re both doing well at school. Gerry got a promotion, finally, and he’s working more regular hours now.”

  “I guess Sam’s keeping him to that,” smiled Amie.

  “Oh, yes! I’d go so far as to say he’s on quite a short leash these days. But for now, they are still together and even planning a fortnight in France this summer.”

  Goodness, it all sounded so ordinary to Amie, the kind of life she had planned for herself and Jonathon before being sent to Africa and getting caught up in the midst of a civil war, and surviving. And all the battles she’d won since.

  “Did ... did you know that Jonathon was a spy as well?” she asked.

  “No, we didn’t,” Ray replied. “But his parents told us there were lots of odd things they never understood. That year away somewhere in Scotland after he’d finished his degree – he never fully explained that.”

  Her mother chimed in. “And then the sudden rush to go to Africa out of the blue. Everyone thought his company was only involved in designing and managing the construction of desalination plants. Did he tell you?”

  “No, I didn’t know. Well, not for years.” Amie couldn’t help but be a little bitter. “I only found out for certain after he died. I didn’t even think to question the long hours he spent at the office, I just took it as normal for men to be that involved in their work. I guess when they lost one Fish, they simply hooked another.”

  “Is, is your work dangerous?” Mary asked, then immediately added, “Sorry, that was thoughtless of me, I know I shouldn’t ask you such things. Now, what else can I tell you?”

  “Why are you here in Johannesburg? It’s the last place I expected to ever see you – in Africa.”

  “You remember your father had that heart attack, not long after your third trip back here?”

  Amie nodded, but she was lying, she had forgotten.

  “Well,” Mary continued, “he made a great recovery after we got over the initial shock of losing both you and Jonathon. Then, the last thing we expected, an insurance agent turned up with a cheque. It seems that you were both insured for a huge amount of money, several million pounds in fact.”

  “Wow! I wasn’t aware of that. Millions?”

  “Yes. We were shocked, but as next of kin, we got paid out for you and Jonathon’s parents received the same for him ...”

  “They’ve retired down in Devon,” Ray butted in. “Got a nice little bungalow overlooking the sea.”

  “So, we both took early retirement too, although it was only a couple of months before it was due, and we’re still looking around for somewhere to settle.”

  “You’ll stay close to Sam?” Amie asked.

  Her mother hesitated for a moment. “Maybe a little farther away than we are now, but close enough to see the grandkids. Sam is teaching again, at long last, and of course, her hours fit in with the children so she’s not a stay at home mum anymore.” Mary stopped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh goodness, the money, we’ve taken it under false pretences.”

  “The insurance money?” Amie asked.

  “Yes. If they know you’re alive, we could be prosecuted and ...”

  “Rubbish,” Raymond’s voice was quite firm. “We accepted it in good faith, and we’re not supposed to know Amie’s alive, remember?”

  “Yes, yes of course,” his wife agreed. She turned to look at Amie, staring at her as if to store up everything she could see. “W
e will keep this secret, I promise you. We won’t tell a soul ...”

  “Especially not Sam,” Amie reminded her.

  “Definitely not Sam,” her mother agreed. “She can’t keep her mouth shut for a moment, we’ve all experienced that.”

  Amie wondered how long she dared stay in the room with her parents. The time was flying past and it was already dark outside.

  Ray noticed the clock on the bedside table and cheerfully suggested room service, reminding Amie that money was not an issue these days. He began reading from the menu while her mind wandered. She would have to invent a friend from Durban who she’d bumped into at the mall. Amie would stick to the truth as closely as she could and exchange her parents for a friend. That should work.

  The next few hours passed too quickly. Mary and Ray brought Amie up to date on all the goings on in the neighbourhood, friends she’d been at school with, families who were still living in their same old comfortable houses in the same old road. Nothing much had changed. They talked about their plans for the future, her father was considering buying a small boat to motor up and down the Thames and finally, they told her about her own memorial service, who was there and the tears that had been shed.

  “It was such a lovely occasion. You should have been there. Oh dear, whoops,” Mary giggled. “How silly of me. But here you are, alive and well and leading an exciting life. So proud of you, Amie, so proud.” She reached over to hug Amie again. I can hardly believe it’s really you and I’m holding you, when I thought I never would again.”

  Amie hugged her back, nestling against her mother’s chest breathing in the scent of her favourite perfume, remembered from childhood. That was a special day when she’d saved up enough of her pocket money to buy a very tiny bottle which she presented with such pride, until she watched her mother unwrap a huge bottle of the same perfume from her father. Her small offering shrank in size next to the larger one, but her mother had assured her that it was twice as precious. Other fond memories washed over her while she took a brief trip back to her childhood when life was safe and easy and the grownups made all her problems go away.