Latent Hazard rkadika-1

by Piers Venmore-Rowland

  ‘Oh, there’s one other bit of news,’ she grinned. ‘As of now, I’m sort of on holiday. I’ve been ordered to spend two weeks helping you convalesce!’

  Rafi smiled, ‘that’s the best news I’ve heard in ages.’

  ‘And it gets better. I thought you might like to get this back,’ she said, passing him his wallet and personal effects from Paddington Green.

  ‘Thank you. I can now pay for Luigi’s and the hotel suite. And I can do some clothes shopping.’

  Kate gave him a big hug. ‘That sounds like fun – I hope I am included! By the way, how did you get on with the hotel in Cornwall?’ she enquired.

  ‘They have found a small suite for us. I told them we would be arriving tomorrow, early afternoon and staying between ten days and a fortnight,’ replied Rafi.

  Kate curled up against him on the back seat.

  ‘So much for me going out with a butch police officer,’ he whispered into her ear.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ came the soft reply. ‘They employ me for my brains and not my body!’

  As the taxi approached Clapham, on Kate’s say-so, it turned into a tree-lined street off the Common and pulled up in front of a red brick terraced house.

  ‘Home sweet home,’ beamed Kate as she joined Rafi after paying the driver.

  ‘Come on, let’s get inside, it’s freezing cold out here.’ Kate unlocked the front door and they entered a small communal area, with two front doors. ‘Mine is the upstairs flat.’ There was a clunk as she unlocked her front door.

  ‘Good lock,’ Rafi commented.

  ‘Yes; you never know who might come calling.’

  Inside, on the mat, was a pile of mail – most of which looked like junk. Kate scooped it up and headed upstairs. Her flat comprised a sitting room, a small kitchen, a cosy bath room and a good-sized double bedroom at the back of the house. The place felt like a deep freeze.

  ‘Is your central heating not working, by any chance?’

  ‘Sorry. I turn the thermostat down when I go out. Don’t worry, it’ll soon get warm.’

  Kate scurried around – closing the curtains and lighting the gas fire in the sitting room before heading off towards the kitchen.

  Rafi joined her and they stood there waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘Long-life milk, I’m afraid. Sugar?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘Come on, follow me – let’s get warm.’ Instead of going towards the sitting room, Kate turned right and headed for her bedroom.

  It was a friendly looking room; simply furnished. In the middle of the wall, facing the window, was a large double bed. Kate placed Rafi’s mug of coffee on one bedside table and hers on the other. He looked across at her, wondering what exactly she was going to do next. She slipped off her shoes, stripped off her coat and hopped fully clothed into bed.

  ‘It’s cold in here – I could do with your body heat to warm me up,’ came the suggestive but gentle request.

  Rafi sat on the side of the bed and took his coat and shoes off.

  ‘Come on, I’m freezing!’

  He climbed under the duvet. Kate was right – the bed was freezing. Rafi moved over to her side and snuggled up. She wrapped her arms around him; her gorgeous eyes were inches away from his. He lay there staring into the sparkling deep brown colours, savouring the warmth of her body next to his. She moved forward and kissed him softly on the lips. He was in heaven.

  ‘If it’s alright with you, I thought we could have something from the freezer for supper and spend the evening in bed. How’s the coffee, by the way?’ asked Kate.

  Rafi hadn’t touched it yet. He moved back to his cold side of the bed, took a couple of mouthfuls and returned to her warmth. He lay there thinking – what a long time it had been since he’d had a girlfriend… And he had known Kate scarcely a week! What were things coming to? Rafi felt happier than he could remember.

  ‘Tell me about the hotel we’re staying at,’ asked Kate.

  ‘It’s just outside Newquay. It’s got four stars and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean.’

  ‘Did you say the bedrooms were nice?’ enquired Kate.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They have big, comfy beds!’

  ‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ replied Kate, who snuggled closer to him.

  The proximity of her body, which was now nestling partly on top of him, made it difficult to concentrate. He wondered what she was going to do next. She leant forward, gave him a lingering kiss on the lips and wriggled her body. The effect was electric. She kissed his cheek and, to his disappointment, rolled off him and slipped out of bed.

  ‘Why don’t I rustle up some supper?’

  He watched her slim figure disappear out of the room and lay there enjoying the warmth of the bed and the anticipation of things to come. This was the first time for a long while that he had felt relaxed, comfortable and truly happy.

  Kate reappeared a few minutes later, clutching another cup of hot coffee. ‘I guessed you wanted to stay warm.’ She left again leaving him to his drink and thoughts. Rafi sipped at it, savouring its warmth. After several minutes he got up, and went to see what Kate was doing. The temperature in the flat had returned to a comfortable level now. He looked around him as he walked down the corridor to the kitchen and sitting room. The place was small, but homely. It was very different to his flat in Hampstead. On reflection, he came to the surprising conclusion that he preferred it. This place had the essence of Kate and that made it special.

  He walked into the kitchen.

  ‘The pizza will be ready in about twenty minutes; sorry, the oven takes ages to get hot. In the meantime, I’m going to have a bath. I’d invite you to share it with me, but we would get stuck – it’s rather small. The sitting room is nice and warm now though. Perhaps the news might be worth listening to?’

  Rafi turned and went into the sitting room. He picked up the remote controls and switched on the television. He eventually found the 24-hour news channels and flicked through them. On the first one he saw a photo of himself and heard the reporter saying: ‘Mr Rafi Khan has been instrumental in enabling the police to catch the terrorists…’

  Rafi flicked to another channel. CNN was running a bulletin on the money markets and the American commentator was interviewing a foreign exchange trader who was describing the day’s trading.

  ‘Been quite a day! That British Finance Chancellor caught us on the hop. We thought Sterling was going to be a one-way bet down through the floor, but when we found out that our Fed, the ECB and the Central Banks of China and Japan – to name but a few – were piling in to support Sterling, we knew that the speculators were beaten. And as if that wasn’t enough, the British Finance Minister then found a couple of hundred billion pounds without tapping the bond markets. And then he set out how the?1,100 billion unfunded public sector pension deficit will be tackled… The currency markets have given up the fight. The steam has literally gone out of trying to short Sterling. It’s been quite a day; one I’ll remember for a long time!’

  The TV interviewer switched across to a stockbroker. ‘Tell us, Irvine, about these new UK Government REITs.’ Rafi listened to Irvine tell his American audience how it was the US who had created the Real Estate Investment Trust structure some decades ago. His view was that the UK Government had done something that some saw as brave, while many others looked at it thinking, ‘Gee, why on earth haven’t we done that?’

  Before being cut off by the interviewer, the broker gave a throwaway remark that made Rafi first smile, then chuckle, ‘What has captivated us is this new UK not-for-profit corporation: like a public company but controlled by custodianholders -the people – and not shareholders. The change in accounting methods alone will bring huge efficiency gains. It’s a great idea and will knock the stuffing out of our game theory junkies; hats off to the UK Chancellor!’

  ‘What are the prospects for tomorrow?’ asked the interviewer.

  ‘It should be business as usual,’ came
the reply.

  The cameras panned back to the interviewer in the CNN studio.

  ‘Well, there it is! An extraordinary day on the money markets; the UK currency and its economy seem set to fight another day. Who would have thought it? It’s a big surprise. Tomorrow the world’s eyes will be on the reopening of the UK financial markets. The omens look good, but who knows? Will the London Stock Market hold its nerve or will it be a bloodbath?’

  The timer in the kitchen started bleeping. Rafi switched off the TV. Kate was still in the bathroom.

  ‘The bleeper’s gone, what should I do?’ Rafi called out.

  ‘Could you see if the pizza is cooked? If it is, could you put it in the top oven to keep it warm?’

  ‘Will do,’ Rafi replied as he went back into the kitchen. Its size suddenly struck him; it was a fifth of the size of his. Small it might be, but nevertheless it worked well – like Kate, he thought to himself.

  The pizza was cooked. He opened the tin of baked beans which he found on the side and poured them into a saucepan. How long had it been since he’d had baked beans? Ages. Probably university, he thought. With his larger than average salary his diet had gone somewhat upmarket. He gave the beans a stir.

  Rafi’s mind wandered and he found himself wondering what a young detective inspector might earn. Probably little more than a university research fellow, he guessed. It then dawned on him that, following the events of the last few days, he was effectively unemployed.

  At that same moment his thoughts took another turn. He smelt a sweet fragrance. This was followed by a sexy hug from behind.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just dawned on me that I’m out of work.’

  ‘That’s good news! Now you can do something worthwhile, and not just because it pays handsomely. You know, when I saw your bank statements I could hardly believe what a fund manager was paid. On average, you were earning more in a month than I earned in a year. Though, I suppose that those of us protecting Queen and Country do it for the job satisfaction, and to eat baked beans rather than caviar! How’s supper coming along?’

  ‘Pizza is cooked and the beans are hot.’

  ‘Why are we standing around?’ Kate had two trays quickly laid. ‘Water or orange juice? No good offering you wine or a G amp;T, is it?’

  ‘Orange juice would be great.’

  ‘Do you mind if I have a glass of wine?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  In the sitting room, Kate put her tray on the floor in front of the gas fire and pulled across a small coffee table from alongside the sofa; she then lifted her tray on to the table and sat down cross-legged. Rafi looked down at her; she was wrapped in an old, fluffy pink dressing gown, with a nondescript towel wrapped tightly around her head – but she looked gorgeous.

  Rafi sat on the sofa and felt the warmth of the fire. He tucked into the food – it tasted good. He watched Kate open a bottle of wine, fill her glass and sip at its contents.

  She caught him watching her. ‘Have you ever drunk alcohol?’

  ‘Not really. My parents, well my mother in particular, were strict Muslims and I grew up in a teetotal household. I suppose it was at university that I decided not to drink. I saw too many people getting smashed for no good reason, which really put me off.’

  The conversation switched to their journey to Cornwall. Kate was amused to find that he didn’t have a car. ‘How about I drive and you pay for the petrol…? Deal?’ asked Kate.

  ‘But remember I’m unemployed!’ chuckled Rafi.

  ‘Yes, but thankfully you have a bank balance which should tide you over for a year or three.’ She yawned. ‘Sorry, I have been surviving on catnaps for the past few days. If I stay up much longer, I won’t be able to see straight, driving down to Cornwall tomorrow.’

  There was a lull in the conversation which was soon broken by Rafi. ‘Would you mind if I went and showered?’ he asked.

  ‘Good idea. I’ll clear up. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

  ‘More orange juice would be nice, please.’

  ‘I’ve put a spare towel on the chair in the bathroom. It looks old but it should be OK, I hope.’

  He saw what she meant. The towel had definitely seen better days. He picked it up and was surprised to find that its shabbiness belied its softness. Definitely fit for purpose, he thought.

  Rafi shed his clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. His wrist still looked puffy and badly bruised. It was still an angry purply-blue colour. He’d got rid of the bandage as it had become the object of too much attention. From what he could see, his back boasted some seriously impressive bruises, but thankfully they all looked far worse than they now felt.

  The shower cubicle was compact. At the third attempt he worked out how to get in and turn the water on without wetting the floor or getting dowsed in very hot or very cold water. He stood there, enjoying the warm water splashing over him. He looked around for some shampoo, washed his hair and picked up the bar of soap. It smelt of exotic eastern fragrances – very feminine. He gave himself a good scrub from head to foot, rinsed off the soap suds, turned off the shower and stepped out into a steam-filled room. He dried and walked out into a dark corridor with the towel around his waist.

  He could see a small strip of light coming from under Kate’s bedroom door and headed for it. Slowly, he opened the door. Kate was sitting in front of her dressing table looking into the mirror. She turned and looked at him. Her tired, freckled face was devoid of make-up -; she still looked lovely.

  He walked over to his side of the bed, shed his towel and climbed in.

  ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ she said and with that the light on the dressing table went off. The room was now only lit by the small light on her bedside table. She walked over to the door, unwrapped the towel from around her head, took off her dressing gown and hung them both on the back of the door.

  Rafi lay in bed spellbound. The curves on her slim body were accentuated by the soft lighting. She turned her head and caught him ogling at her naked behind.

  She slowly stepped backwards, then sideways. He felt his pulse race. She had a great body.

  ‘Do you like?’

  He was captivated. ‘Yes, very much!’ he eventually added.

  ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’

  Rafi watched as she climbed into bed. She turned off the light, disappeared under the duvet and came up for air with her head on his chest. The curtains were drawn but small shafts of dappled light came in around the edges from the lights outside. She slowly moved up and kissed him. ‘I’m a very lucky girl…’ Her voice trailed off as she sat up, letting the duvet slide off her shoulders. She ran her finger tips across his exposed chest. His body twitched, as inch by sensual inch she drew imaginary patterns on his torso. He gazed at her lovely face framed by a mass of silky hair.

  Kate lent forward and kisses followed the lines her fingers had taken, lingering along the way at his small dark nipples. Little electric shocks raced through his body. Her fingers, meanwhile, had moved on with their gentle caresses.

  Rafi was in seventh heaven. He felt her kisses gradually move back up his chest to his neck and the hollow beneath his right ear.

  ‘When I first laid eyes on you a week ago, in my wildest dreams I’d never have guessed that you and I would get this close.’

  Rafi awoke to the sound of light-hearted singing coming from the kitchen. Kate’s dressing gown was no longer on the back of the door. He sat up and looked around her bedroom.

  The door opened quietly. Kate slowly put her head around it. ‘Oh, good, you’re awake. I wondered when you were going to come around. I’ve got a cup of black coffee for you. Thought you could do with a caffeine boost. Did you sleep well?’

  Rafi smiled and nodded as she came to sit next to him.

  ‘I’ve finished packing. I didn’t know what I’d need so I’m travelling light; a good excuse for some shopping. And I’ve rung the Savoy and they said all our belong
ings are packed up and ready for collection. And some good news: MI5 have spoken to the hotel and asked for the bill to be sent to them. They left you a message: Thank you and sorry we roughed you up.’

  Rafi grinned and sipped at his hot coffee. Kate leant over and gave him a kiss.

  ‘How long do you need to get ready?’

  ‘Would fifteen minutes be OK?’

  ‘Great. I thought that we could eat brunch on the way.’

  Kate’s car was a small, old-looking, Volvo. She drove through the London traffic quickly and confidently. They arrived at the Savoy in what seemed like record time and stopped near the front door.

  Rafi walked behind Kate into the crowded hotel foyer.

  At the main desk they were greeted by the manager, who seemed pleased to see them.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re leaving us. I hope you had a pleasant stay.’

  ‘Every bit as good as I hoped,’ Rafi replied.

  ‘Your luggage is being collected as we speak and will be waiting for you at the front door. I hope you will visit us again soon; it was a pleasure to have you both here… I’m sorry, I nearly forgot – I have some messages for you.’

  There were messages from Kate’s parents and from Emma and Saara sending their best wishes. None of these needed an immediate reply. The last one, though, was from Jeremy. Kate read it and passed it to Rafi.

  As he read the message, Rafi felt the colour drain out of his face. Their nightmare had not ended. The terrorist from Heysham had escaped from hospital – heaven only knew what he was capable of doing, even with a broken arm and collar bone. ‘So now what?’ he said in a shocked tone.

  ‘Doesn’t look good, does it? We’ll speak to Jeremy in the car and take it from there.’

  They said their goodbyes to the manager and put the luggage, which seemed far more than Rafi could remember, into the Volvo’s boot and across the back seat.

  They turned into the traffic on the Strand and headed west towards the Hogath Roundabout and the M4.

  As they drove along the raised section of the M4, Kate turned on her hands-free phone and called Jeremy. His phone went to voicemail, so she left a message. ‘Hi, Kate here. I’m on my mobile. Chat soon.’