by Amelia Price
During the following day, he had planned a few more sections of her latest lesson, but it would be little effort to incorporate them into his own agenda while she was with him, and now he'd given her instructions he couldn't take the decision back. While he was thinking this, she replied.
That's an early start. Will I need to bring any specific items I wouldn't normally carry?”
A frown flitted across his face. He hoped she wasn't complaining, but was pleased she was at least trying to prepare for whatever might come. Sherlock had probably told her very little.
No. Your usual fare will suffice.
Mycroft put the phone away, not expecting another reply that evening. All the information Amelia needed to be getting on with was provided. Any further questions she might have could be dealt with the next day.
“Thank you, Daniels. That will be all this evening,” Mycroft said when the car was sitting on the drive, its engine clicking slightly as it cooled in the cold February night air. “Have the car ready by six tomorrow morning. We need to be at Lancaster train station for a few minutes after ten, and then we'll go onwards to Lockerbie.”
Again, Daniels pulled a brief puzzled expression but he asked no questions. If Mycroft didn't offer an explanation, there wouldn't be one.
“Yes, sir. I'll retire then, sir.” Daniels nodded and scurried off to his own room.
As soon as Mycroft was in the door of his study, he rearranged his meetings for the following day, made a few alterations to Amelia's ongoing lesson, and then, finally, sat back down in his armchair to finish off the brandy. Its flavour had changed slightly in the hour it had sat out on his desk, but not in any way detrimental to his enjoyment of the drink. He threw it back and poured himself another.
He briefly checked his emails one last time to see if his secretary had uncovered the name of the reporter who had bought the information yet, but found nothing new. It didn't worry him. The email would be there by the time he needed it.
Taking his time over the second brandy, Mycroft settled back into his chair. When he'd woken up that morning, he hadn't expected the day to end this way, with an impending trip to Scotland. Not only was that something out of the ordinary but he wouldn't be alone. A woman was coming with him.
Chapter 4
It was still dark when the ringing alarm forced Amelia to open her eyes. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes to loosen and remove the sleep collected around them. When she sat up, she groaned. Mornings were never a pleasant surprise. Then she remembered Myron had summoned her and felt the first buzz of energy pass through her body. Maybe some mornings were a pleasant surprise after all.
She pushed back the covers and began her dressing routine. To ensure she was ready on time, she'd placed the clothes she'd want nearby the night before and showered as well. Sleeping on damp hair had made it a little more wild than normal but nothing a fierce brush and a few pins couldn't tame.
For a few seconds, she considered leaving her hair around her shoulders but knew Myron might be annoyed by this. The comment he'd made about her hair looking better down was associated with a more playful, almost date-like moment. She'd been summoned for work, not pleasure, and she should appear as if she was taking it seriously. Ten minutes later it was in a bun and underneath a deep green net she'd picked up the week before.
Breakfast was a hurried affair, and putting together a couple of snacks for the journey was even swifter, yet she still wasn't quite ready when the taxi she'd ordered beeped briefly outside her front door. She yanked on her boots, took one last glance in the mirror and rushed outside to the waiting car.
As she slipped into the passenger seat, she breathed a sigh of relief. She still had half an hour to get to the train station and buy her ticket. At that time of the morning, it should be more than enough. Any other delays once she was sat on her train were beyond her control.
Just as she expected, it didn't take many minutes to get to the train station, where she paid the taxi fare and rushed inside. The area was almost devoid of life, and it only served to remind Amelia that she'd been roused from bed at an ungodly time.
It was still too early for most people; even the London commuters didn't get up this early. A British Rail employee stood off to one side, looking rather unimpressed with the time of the morning, so Amelia went to the automatic ticket machines and punched in the details for her destination. She tried not to flinch at the price and briefly wondered if Myron intended to refund her. So far, he'd paid for everything related to her lessons except a few minor costs to do with things like stationery, but she never knew quite what he would or wouldn't cover. It probably didn't help that she didn't dare ask.
The whole trip was rather unexpected, and when Sebastian had first told her that Myron needed her help today of all days she'd wondered if it was a joke. It was Valentine's Day and not something she'd expect either Holmes brother to take part in. Given that she really was going to Scotland, she could only assume it was a coincidence.
With her ticket in hand, Amelia scanned over the train departure screen, looking for the Birmingham train. She would switch there to one going to Carlisle, even if she got off before. The train was officially meant to leave at nine past six, but for some reason it said seventeen instead.
Amelia sighed but decided to wait out the delay on the platform. Hopefully, it wouldn't annoy Myron too much if the train was late. It wasn't something under her control but she wouldn't put it past the Holmes brother to be disgruntled. She doubted he'd take his temper out on her but the atmosphere would be decidedly less pleasant.
When she noticed the signs on the platform, she raised her eyebrows. Both of those said the train was on time and the next expected to arrive. If she'd had time, she'd have gone back to the ticket office and re-checked it, but she didn't and would have to file away the anomaly as an unexplained event, something never satisfying to do.
Only a few minutes later, Amelia was on the train and in her seat. She had four hours before seeing Myron again and found herself already feeling a small flutter in her stomach. It always felt like the beginning of an adventure every time he summoned her. The last one had resulted in her stealing a USB stick from terrorists, while she and the Holmes brothers were being held prisoner. Whatever happened today, she doubted it would be dull.
For a few minutes, Amelia tried to focus on the people around her in the carriage, wondering if this might be a lesson of some kind, but her interest soon waned, and she realised she was looking over the same people again and coming up with nothing. Instead, she decided to write until she reached another stop. There were few on the journey, and the little she might need to notice was likely to happen in between them.
As she suspected, the journey to Birmingham was uneventful, and her only moment of panic was when the first train arrived in Birmingham so delayed she had to run to get on her connecting train to Lancaster. This train was busier, and she found it difficult to get a seat, but as the few stops passed by, and the commuters came and went, she soon found herself almost alone in her carriage.
Not long before ten, she tucked away her belongings and took a glance at her appearance in her compact mirror. She smoothed some stray strands of hair and made sure her jacket was straight. This might not be a date, but, given the day, she still wanted to make a good impression. Until Myron made it very clear he wasn't interested, she wouldn't give up trying to entice him.
A few minutes before the train was due to arrive at Lancaster, a young chap, dressed in a suit and carrying a bunch of roses, came walking down the carriage, glancing at the passengers more intently than a normal person would. He stopped right by her and pulled one of the fresh, long-stemmed roses out of the bunch.
“For you, my fair lady. Happy Valentine's,” he said with a dramatic bow as he presented it to her. She laughed and took it, amused by the Shakespearian antics.
“Thank you, kind sir, but may I ask as to the reason? We're strangers to each other.”
“It's a sad ta
le, I'm afraid. I had seventeen of them, meant for my true love, but alas, it seems I am not hers. She made her distaste for my affections quite clear.”
“I'm so sorry; that is a sad tale.” Amelia pulled her most sympathetic unhappy face.
“I have decided to bestow one on the next seventeen beautiful women I see.”
“Then I shall treasure it. I hope your day ends better than it started.” Amelia gave the man a smile as he backed off and then grabbed her handbag. While they were talking, the train had pulled into the station, and as sweet as the man had been, she could spare him no more thought. She hurried to the door and got there just as the last people were getting on the train. As soon as they were clear, she hopped off.
Hoping to catch up with the rest of the departing passengers, Amelia hurried down the platform and towards the train station exit. A grin spread across her face as soon as she saw Daniels leaning against the driver door of Myron's sleek black car. The chauffeur smiled back and doffed his cap with one hand while he opened the back door for her.
“Good morning, Daniels,” she said on her way past him and into the interior. She tried not to let her nervousness at seeing Myron get the better of her and kept the smile on her face.
“Good morning, Myron,” she added a few seconds later, noticing that he wasn't looking at her but out of the opposite car window. He was impeccably dressed, as always, in a deep green three-piece suit, with his short black hair slicked back on the sides of his head.
A small moment of smugness enveloped her as she realised she'd picked the perfect colour for all her accessories. They matched. She opened her mouth to say something related before her brain caught up and reminded her that he would find the thoughts far too feminine and probably childish. As she closed her mouth over the words, he finally looked her way, his eyes stopping when they caught sight of the rose in her hands. He frowned.
“I do hope that's not for me?” he asked.
Uhh... No... It's mine. I mean, I was given it.” She leant forward to tuck the stem into the side of her handbag, feeling the intensity of Myron's gaze and wanting to gather her thoughts.
“Valentine's Day,” he sneered. “I hope whoever gave you that rose won't distract you from why you're really here. I don't have time for that sort of sentimentality.”
Amelia wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a hint of jealousy in his voice. But if it was jealousy, was it because he didn't have a Valentine of his own or because he wasn't hers?
“It was just some gentleman on the train. He had some going spare and offered me one,” she explained, wondering if she really ought to justify it, but she plunged on anyway. “I have no Valentine of my own.”
Myron turned back to the window and what was now moving scenery, hiding any possible reaction to her words. It didn't take her long to realise she was being silly. Neither Holmes brother was sentimental, just like he'd said.
“Anyway, I am here, as you summoned. What would you have me do?”
“As my brother summoned,” he replied, correcting her. Her eyes widened before she could hide her reaction. Myron was in a very unpleasant mood. Several angry responses flashed through her head, but she held them all back. It would do no good to antagonise him more, despite wanting to.
“What would you have me do?” she asked again as gently as she could. He sighed and met her eyes, this time acknowledging that she was really there.
“You're here to observe and learn. I would normally send my brother to handle these tasks, but he insists he is busy today.”
“Of course he does,” she sighed and shook her head. “And, of course, he then phoned me to let me know how much I was required to assist you today,” she said, reacting to feeling played by Sebastian before she could stop herself. Immediately, she regretted interrupting Myron, but for once he nodded in agreement.
“Perhaps you should have been more careful about keeping our arrangement from him.”
“You know about that, then.” She looked down, knowing he'd be angry.
“Of course. It was obvious. I'm surprised you thought hiding it was a good idea.”
Amelia let out another sigh. At the time she'd told Sebastian that his brother would find out, she had just expected to be able to tell Myron before he did. She knew, in retrospect, it was a very stupid mistake to make.
“You aren't going to try and justify your actions?” he asked when she didn't say anything more.
“No. There's no point. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have. It is as simple as that.”
“My brother seems to think it's his fault and that I shouldn't blame you. But we both know, you underestimated his intelligence.”
“So our agreement is broken.”
“Yes, again.”
So far, seeing Myron again was going as badly as it could. She felt her insides squirm and had to will herself not to show her discomfort any further. It wouldn't stop him dismissing her, but it might help her think.
Amelia looked up from her hands as she realised it made no sense. Why was she here if she'd broken their agreement again? Myron must have some other reason for keeping her around.
A few seconds later, he met her gaze and they stared at each other, the unspoken question of why lingering between them, but neither of them voicing it or the answer.
“You've shown that you have talent, Amelia, even if it isn't quite at the level of my brother, but you must be aware of how dangerous our line of work is. There may come a time when neither I nor Sebastian will be able to come to your rescue. Do you truly understand the level of intelligence you need to have just to survive what we do?”
This wasn't what Amelia had expected Myron to say next but she knew it was important. She tilted her head to the side, trying to read the expression on his face as well as consider the words carefully. She knew he had disobeyed a command to save her only weeks earlier and paid a high price, and now he was letting her know he couldn't do that again.
“I don't think I understood that the first time I asked you to teach me, although I'm beginning to now. I want to continue.”
“Then no more mistakes, Amelia. You can't afford them,” he said and finally broke their eye contact. She let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and fought back the grin wanting to run rampant across her face. He cared; it was the only explanation.
“To our task, then?” she asked once she was in full control of her emotions.
“Yes. I hope I don't have to remind you that what I'm about to tell you is in the strictest confidence?”
She shook her head. Myron wasn't someone she'd ever betray.
Chapter 5
It didn't take long to tell Amelia everything that Mycroft knew so far. Just before he'd left the house, his secretary had informed him of the account used to pay Mr McGregory. It was owned by a small, but well-read, Scottish newspaper, although they'd tried to cover their tracks. Now he needed to ensure the information they had never made it to print.
Immediately, Amelia pulled out her phone and tapped in the key details.
“I'll see if we can work out which reporter it's likely to be,” she said. “It will at least make use of our travel time.”
He nodded, glad she would do something useful while he gathered his thoughts. Their conversation so far had been little to the plan he'd made. Somehow, his anger at being forced from London had bubbled over into his warning for her. Thankfully, she appeared to have taken it well.
How long until we're in Scotland?” Mycroft said loudly enough that Daniels would hear him.
“I'm estimating seventeen past the hour, but it will take another half-hour or so before we're in Lockerbie,” Daniels replied, not taking his eyes off the road or pausing for a second.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mycroft noticed Amelia look up from her phone and raise her eyebrows. Satisfaction rippled through him. It appeared she was noticing everything she ought to.
Although he already suspected a particular reporter at the newspaper, it was also
good that Amelia was trying to figure it out. Hopefully, she would arrive at the same conclusion before they reached Lockerbie, and they could pay a visit to both the source and the reporter in one short space of time.
On the way up from London, he'd already ran through the likely ripple effects of the information being printed. Almost all of them would result in the MP losing his position; if not right away, then at the next election. The effects on the upcoming referendum would be even worse. It had to be stopped.
They sat in silence together for the better part of an hour while Mycroft thought over other pressing concerns the government wanted him to deal with. Twice he answered messages his secretary sent to his phone, but neither were particularly difficult.
When they were close to the Scottish border, Amelia stopped what she was doing and sighed.
“Struggling?” he asked, expecting her to say yes.
“My phone's almost out of battery,” she replied. “But I think it's Stephen Kendel. He often writes about political issues, and he was charged with some kind of infraction to do with obtaining source information a couple of years ago. He's also very much for Scottish independence.
“Good.” It was the same person Mycroft expected.
“You knew?”
“Of course.”
“Then why... Wait, don't answer that question. You want me to learn, so you let me try.”
He nodded.
“How long did it take you to work out who it was?” She tucked her phone into her pocket and sat back.
“Less than a minute. I already knew of him. He was the only logical option.”
For the next few minutes, Amelia elaborated on how she'd discovered it. Given that she'd not had the information he had already known to give her guidance, she'd done a good job of reading relevant articles in the online archives and searching for further information on the writers.
