‘Thanks, I thought we’d meet one day. It was kind of inevitable.’
Rose ignored her dig. ‘I saw Flori when she was pregnant with you, but circumstances intervened.’
‘By circumstances, I suppose you mean the Court Hearing and the Court Order?’
There was an awkward silence. She’d embarrassed them, in one fell swoop. Not that that bothered her too much.
‘How long have you been here?’
‘A week. I’m giving some lectures at my old uni and decided on an impulse I could meet up with Flori. When we met in London a while ago, there wasn’t enough time. It’s been so long. I phoned your mother, with some trepidation, I have to say, and suggested we met up. She was delighted.’
‘Are you allowed to meet each other?’
Rose didn’t miss a beat. She gave a tinkling laugh. ‘Oh, you mean, because of the unfortunate event in our past? That was years ago. We’re both law-abiding citizens now. Wouldn’t you say so, Flori?’
‘I’d say it was more than unfortunate.’
Her mother spoke sharply. ‘Nixie, please.’
Nixie’s voice was cold. ‘I was merely referring to the truth. Has it occurred to either of you the after effects of what you call the “unfortunate event” might have had on others?’
Rose said, ‘Whom did you have in mind?’
Nixie silently observed her posh accent. ‘The baby.’
‘Nixie, please.’ Her mother was looking at her imploringly. ‘Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll make some tea. Rose, did you bring that cake out of the car?’
‘No, I’ll get it. I left it on the back seat.’ She turned and left the room.
Flori stared at Nixie and said in a low voice, ‘What’s got into you? Why so rude?’
‘I don’t want her here. She’s trouble.’
‘Nixie. This isn’t like you at all.’
‘How long is she staying?’
‘She goes the day after tomorrow.’
Nixie turned away from her mother’s gaze. ‘I’m going up to my room. I’m tired and I need to sleep.’
‘Will you come down later and be sociable?’
‘I’ll try. When Dad’s back, I’ll come down.’
‘I don’t know when he’ll be back.’
‘I do. I saw him. At Solva.’
‘Solva? What was he doing there?’
‘Talking to me.’
Her mother tightened her lips, said, ‘Have your sleep Nixie, and then come down. Maybe by then you’ll be in a better mood.’
Nixie shrugged her shoulders and left the room.
She was determined to make the minimum effort to talk with Rose. She would ignore Rose’s attempts to be friendly. She felt resentful that Rose and her mother would, most probably, spend hours together in her study talking about the paper she planned to present at the Cardiff Conference. It made her feel excluded and jealous. Fortunately Rose didn’t stay long, so after she’d left, Nixie, still preoccupied with thoughts of Seb decided to walk to the cliff path.
She chose the same way across the fields when, three years ago, she’d accompanied Seb back to his campsite. Her mind returned to the row they’d had in Greece. It had been Mike who’d insisted she confront him with their suspicions. He wanted him out of Grassroots, and her arguments that he’d helped Grassroots with his knowledge of computer hacking had got nowhere. She’d agreed in the end, but all the time she’d hoped he’d deny it.
She’d since wondered, if, at some point, she could recruit him to work for the Met. It would be a way of keeping in touch with him, but realistically, Seb’s response to her accusations made all thoughts of further work together impossible. How naive she’d been, she thought, to think they could carry on as before. It was true their final afternoon on Karpathos had been tender and sweet, and she was pleased she’d left the note for him, but she had to accept it was over.
Her mother was reading when she returned and looked up as she entered the lounge. ‘Are you okay, Nixie? What’s wrong? You look upset.’ Nixie went across and sat down by her. She unconsciously began to twirl her hair round her finger, a gesture that her mother also did when she was distracted and uncertain.
Her mother said, ‘I prefer your hair now it’s longer.’ Nixie made no comment. ‘Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea?’
Nixie sighed. ‘No thanks. Not for the moment.’
‘Are you missing Seb?’
‘Of course I am.’
Her mother continued to scrutinise her, then she put her book down and said, ‘Tell me about it, what happened between the two of you. It was difficult to talk when Rose was here.’
‘I was aware of that.’
‘You didn’t like her, did you?’
There was a long silence until Nixie said, ‘Not exactly. It wasn’t the right time for me to meet her. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘I’m sorry. It was arranged before I knew you and Seb had split up.’
‘You could have cancelled.’
‘Hardly. She’d offered to look through my paper, the one I’m reading at the conference. Besides, over the years, I’ve missed her.’
‘I’d have thought you wouldn’t want to see her again.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because… she aided and abetted you when you took the baby and a true friend would have talked you out of it.’
‘You’re still dwelling on that.’ Flori stared at Nixie intensely. ‘I had no idea you felt so hostile towards what happened.’
‘“What happened.”’ You talk as if it was all outside your hands and you were guided by some invisible force.’
‘That’s how it felt.’
‘You’re talking bollocks. You were totally responsible for all your actions.’
‘I know that, Nixie. Why so angry? It happened years ago, not yesterday.’
For a split second, Nixie was at the point of spilling out all her thoughts and feelings about her mother’s past and its effects on Seb. His moods, his anger, his deceptions, and how he might have been if he’d had a normal upbringing. She stood up and, forcing herself to speak calmly, said, ‘I don’t know why I’m angry. Maybe it’s because I feel ashamed.’
‘Ashamed? Of me?’
‘Yes, of you, and your past. When I was a child people had heard about you, and they’d stare at me, as if I was a freak like you. All my life I’ve had to lie because of you.’
Her mother was silent, then she said, ‘Nixie, that’s one of the most hurtful things you’ve ever said to me.’
‘Well, it’s the truth and I’m tired of all the lies.’
‘You don’t have to repeat yourself. I got it the first time… I just wish you’d told me before how you felt. We could have talked.’
‘Talk. You’ve always been wrapped up in yourself and your books. There’s never been space for me.’
‘That’s not true, Nixie. I’m sorry.’ She stood up and walked towards the door.
Nixie ran across and caught her mother by the arm. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To work. I’ve got work to do.’
Nixie stared at her mother, her eyes furious, her body tense. ‘How can you stand there so calmly, after what I’ve told you and just say you’re going to work?’
‘What more is there to say?’
‘Your work has always come before me.’
Flori didn’t reply. She paused at the door and looked at her daughter. ‘Nixie. You’re angry, and you’re in no mood for us to sort things out. I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, you’re busy, you’ve got your work to do.’ Nixie’s tone was contemptuous. ‘What’s so important about it?’ Silence. ‘What you were talking about with Rose?’ Flori turned away. ‘Well, go on, tell me.’
Flori sighed, ‘It’s for the conference.’
‘I’ve written up certain case studies.’
‘Case studies? What case studies?’
‘You’re bullying me, Nixie. Stop it.’
‘I just want to know.’
‘It’s confidential.’
Nixie turned on her heel and left the room. She pulled on her Gore-Tex and walking boots, and set off towards the sea. She was monumentally angry. She reached the cliff path and walking parallel to the sea, stopped to watch the movement of the water. She continued to a place where the path curved down into a hollow. It was one of her favourite places and as a child she’d sit unseen watching the waves crash in fury against the high cliffs, scattering the sea birds into a grey sky.
Today it was calm, the water moving with the gentlest of swells. She slid down into the hollow and, closing her eyes, listened to the sound of the wind, the sea and the call of the seabirds. This had always soothed her and it still had that effect. She lay for some time thinking about the past few months. She wondered how Seb was and where he was living. Maybe he’d left Greece now. He could be anywhere. What would he do now with his life? He’d been ‘outed’ as an undercover agent and every protest group would know of him. He’d become an outcast.
Yet, it could happen to her. Normally, she rarely thought about this but since she’d been with Seb, and observed his slips, she’d become aware that she too only had to make one mistake, or be seen somewhere she shouldn’t be, and the whole pack of cards would collapse.
Not only did she have to conceal her work from Grassroots, but also her parents and that had always been hard. Her mother had shown little interest, but her father was more inquisitive. She wondered how much he suspected. Sometimes she caught him looking at her intently, but he’d never asked directly. The nearest he’d got to that, was the other day, the chance meeting in Solva. But in the end, he hadn’t pushed her for more information, so she could maintain the deception that she worked as a carer.
Why had she taken the opposite view to his politics? She hadn’t thought about it until she’d applied to the Met, but they’d focused on this from the start and grilled her at every interview. Their questions put her on the spot. She’d said she didn’t agree with her father’s ideas or his activism, and that she disapproved of lawbreaking, but she was also curious about the other side and why they held different views. It was easy to pretend to be one of them, she’d said, she’d been brought up in an atmosphere of secrecy so she knew how and when to lie. She’d added it was part of life and everyone did it.
Since then, she realised that some, and she included herself and Seb here, could play both sides at once. But it didn’t bother her too much, because whichever way she looked at it, whether working for the State or Grassroots, it was all for a good cause. She glanced at her mobile; it was time to go. She pushed herself up, and began the walk back.
She felt in a better mood. Perhaps she’d been hard on her mother, blaming her for how she felt. It was the break up with Seb that had really upset her. It was still light when she reached home. Her mother’s car was in the drive but there was no sign of her, so she must be working. She walked to her office, and stood at the door. Her mother had her back to her and was staring at the screen.
‘I’m back.’ Flori swung round and gave her a big smile. ‘Mum, I’m sorry I said the things I did. I was upset. You know, about me and Seb. The truth is, I’m gutted.’
‘I understand, Nixie. It’s alright. Do you want to talk it over? I know I asked you before, but maybe that was the wrong time.’
Nixie sat down in the nearest armchair, twirled her hair round her finger and looked thoughtful. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think so. What will be, will be. It was just one of those things.’
‘Nixie, every couple has their ups and downs. Maybe it’ll blow over.’
‘It was too fundamental for that.’
There was a silence as mother and daughter gazed at each other. ‘I’m really sorry, Nixie, for what’s happened and I can see how upset you are, but you know, and I can say it now, I didn’t really take to him.’
‘Why not?’
‘He seemed evasive and well, maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I suspected his charm.’
‘That’s what Dad said. But I liked his charm, although he could be moody, that’s for sure.’
‘I suppose we all can.’ Her mother paused, then said, ‘Mmm. You know, I’ve been researching the psychopathic personality? Well, he did have some of those characteristics. It was…’
‘Mum, you’re pissing me off. I don’t want to hear anymore. I’ll see you later.’
Nixie stood up and left the room. Once again her mother had angered her. She heard her father’s Land Rover come into the drive. He was the last person she wanted to see. She wasn’t in the mood for any further discussions. She went up to her bedroom and flung herself down in her favourite chair. She wanted to leave. All these intrusive comments meant she had to be on her guard all the time. She was tired of having to lie to protect herself and Seb. And if her mother ever found out it had been him who’d broken into the farmhouse, it would for sure, confirm her views that he was psychopathic.
Well, was he a psychopath? The break in was a weird thing to do, by anybody’s standards. She’d assumed it was because of his anger with her mother, of being snatched. She didn’t doubt her mother would have cared for him to the best of her ability, but even so… her mind drifted away as she thought of what he must have gone through.
Seb had rarely spoken of his own parents. She wished she knew more. Suddenly she felt very irritable with herself; why should she care? It was over between them and she’d never see him again. She stayed in her room, restlessly picking up and reading random books, until she was called down to eat.
She felt preoccupied and disconnected, and although they tried to draw her out, she refused to open up.
‘Look, I don’t feel like talking. I’ve just broken up with Seb and it’s kind of playing on my mind. That, and other things.’
‘Can’t you tell us? Maybe we can help.’
‘It’s best if I sort things out myself. I’ve decided to go back to London tomorrow.’
‘Nixie, I’m worried about you. Why don’t you stay a little longer?’
‘Well, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Give yourself a break, I’ll be back as soon as I’ve got some stuff sorted.’
The truth was she wanted to escape. For the first time ever she felt claustrophobic in her own home.
— 19 —
The press were in melt down. As the weeks had passed it became increasingly clear the tentacles of financial corruption had spread throughout the government, so much so the Serious Fraud Office had been called in to investigate. But despite the alleged offenders having gone to considerable trouble to cover their tracks, it hadn’t been enough. The financial dealings of Makepeace, Fortescue and Melbury were now subject to close scrutiny. Contacting possible witnesses and experts for the prosecution from a range of sources, including the House of Commons, the press, the various administrative offices of the Nuclear Industry, and the financial sector, was, it had been found, time consuming and complex.
The SFO with their staff of lawyers, forensic accountants and computer security personnel had a long and extensive history in scything a path through the thicket of financial obfuscations. They knew the email tip offs from Fortescue, the trail of inflated invoices drawn up by Makepeace, the orchestration by Melbury as bribery-broker in chief, for what they were ─ fraud, bribery and corruption. But even so, it took months of intensive investigation before enough evidence had been gathered of the collusion, the kickbacks, and the illicit exchange of money and sexual services, for the SFO to make public their intent to prosecute.
Behind the big players were the hangers-on; these were the small fry who, like the remoras clinging for sustenance to the sharks in the high seas, had attached themselv
es to the principal financial predators. They too realised, it was time to go it alone. But there was no escape; they, like everyone else, had been dragged into the financial dragnet before the SFO moved on to the next stage.
Witnesses and experts for the prosecution were contacted. The photographs posted to Seb, shown by him to Nixie, who passed them onto Bill, from whence they were released to the press, were just part of the SFO’s case. The SFO was also following the paper chase between Makepeace, Fortescue, various construction companies and certain other government departments. As for Melbury, it was by now common knowledge that his particular contribution lay in lining up bribes and sweeteners.
Nixie followed all these developments from a distance. It was obvious to her that Bill had ignored her strictures not to release the photos; but he’d got away with it without some outraged MP threatening court action for breach of privacy. Probably, she thought, because it suited somebody high up, but she was under no illusion. At some point, her relationship with Seb would put her in the frame and it was only a matter of time before she was contacted.
She didn’t wait long. It was a mid-afternoon when she received the call, but it wasn’t from the SFO, as expected, but from Bill. She’d just attended a Grassroots’ operational meeting and had returned to her flat, when he rang. He wanted to see her immediately, but the address he gave was different from the usual one.
Situated near the Houses of Parliament in Victoria, it was a flat in one of the old Peabody Estates and, as with the other safe places she’d visited, it merged in with the rest of the properties surrounding it. Only the metal strip running round the fortified, exterior door, indicated it might be different; its use more typical of areas of high deprivation, rather than the affluence of South West London. She rang the bell and while waiting for the door to be opened, looked round for the hidden security cameras. She couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Bill opened the door and after a cursory greeting led the way to a room at the back of the flat. He gestured for her to sit down. Two folders lay on the table in front of him. He looked serious. There were none of his usual pleasantries. She glanced around. The room was painted white, pot plants had been placed on the balcony, and it was furnished sparsely with Ikea type furniture.
Truth and Lies Page 23
