“Sure. But you’ll be out of here in a day or two, and now that she knows you won’t be in a coma for a decade, I think she’s pretty chilled out.” Laura paused. “Well, as chilled out as I suppose you can be when you know someone tried to blow your daughter up.” She finally engaged her brain before her mouth. “Okay, I’ll keep a close eye on them both.”
“And because I’ll be so busy in the next little while, I’ll give the property manager of the flat your number to call to make any decisions regarding rentals, et cetera.”
Laura nodded, making notes on her phone.
“Oh, and I don’t need the rental income, so when she calls, give her your bank details. She’s expecting that information.”
“Whoa there. Isn’t your flat fetching something like three thousand pounds a month these days?”
With a wave of her hand, Flic brushed her off. “I don’t need the money and you’ll be helping me out, so please, keep it. The only stipulation is that it’s to be rented to a female, or females.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I’d prefer, that’s all.”
Laura eyed her suspiciously, but evidently thought better of pushing the issue because she moved on. “Okay. I can do all that. You sure about the money though?”
Flic squeezed her hand as reassurance. “I’m sure. I want you to have it, and it’s my thanks for looking after the place.”
“You look so tired you’re actually gray.” Laura never shied away from the truth. “Anna’s waiting to see you. You need to rest. I’ll show her in and come back tomorrow, okay?”
“Come here.” Flic held open her arms and Laura wrapped her arms around her.
“You okay?”
Flic breathed in Laura’s familiar expensive perfume. “You look after yourself, okay? Thanks for being here.” Flic choked back tears. “I love you. Promise you won’t forget that?”
Laura held her at arm’s length. “That must have been some knock you got on the noggin last night.” She kissed Flic’s forehead. “See you tomorrow.”
Good-byes were always difficult, but today, Flic felt like her heart was being crushed. She battled to compose herself before Anna came in, but to no avail. The moment she entered, Flic fell apart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cry.”
Anna was immediately by her side. “There’s no need to apologize.”
There was a knock at the door. Stark poked her head in.
“I’m not ready yet,” snapped Flic. She’d run out of time.
“Two minutes?” Stark framed it as a question, but Flic knew she didn’t really have a choice.
“What’s going on?”
Flic took her hand and held it tightly. “I’m being taken to a safe house. I think I’ve identified the bomber, but regardless, they want to keep me safe until they catch them.”
“You saw one of the men there, didn’t you?”
“I think so. Look, we don’t have much time. The longer I’m here, the longer I’m in danger, and the longer I put you all at risk.”
Anna nodded.
“I’m allowed to ask you to come with me.”
“Me?”
Flic realized digesting the scenario was difficult at any time, let alone under these circumstances, but there simply wasn’t time to explain. “My life is in danger until these people are caught. If you come with me, you won’t be able to contact anyone, or be seen in public without a disguise, and I know it sounds horrendous to even contemplate, but the police said they don’t imagine it will be for long, but I have to go off the radar, and I want you to come with me.” She rambled on, unable to stop until she had it all out.
The movement was slight, but the few centimeters Anna backed away were like unfettering a raft and pushing it from the jetty, left to drift aimlessly. Flic’s nausea returned as her stomach constricted and her body worked to pump blood and oxygen to her brain and vital organs. She had never felt so alone.
“I don’t think I can do that, Flic.” Anna cleared her throat. “I have a life, a job. I can’t just give that up. Are we even that close?”
The question stung. “A simple no would have been sufficient.” Flic edged from her bed and pressed the buzzer. She was supposed to call Val when she was ready to go. She began to strip off her hospital gown, knowing Anna would make a run for it before she would allow herself to see Flic naked.
“That came out wrong. I’m sorry.” Tears reddened Anna’s eyes. “It’s just that it’s been a hell of a time this last twenty-four hours. Can you understand how hard this is for me?”
Flic tried to understand, she pushed herself to see this awful situation from Anna’s point of view, but in truth, she was wrestling with her own fears, her own emotions, and the realization that three men were trying their utmost to kill her. The thought was sickening. She felt toxic. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask, but I had to. I’m sorry.”
Anna could barely speak. “Are you asking me to come with you as a friend, or…something more?”
Flic had finished dressing by this time, although Val was nowhere to be seen, and Anna hadn’t budged. It was heartbreaking to think this could be the last time she might see Anna for an indefinite period. “Could you ever love me?” She was raw now and had nothing left to lose.
“We’ve managed to arrive at this junction well before I thought we might,” said Anna.
Val came charging through the door. “Right, my girl, are you—”
“One minute please, Val?” Flic’s voice oozed desperation.
Val nodded and swung about-face, leaving them in silence again.
“They really want you out of here, don’t they?”
Flic pushed on, embarrassed to be baring her soul, but not willing to miss the chance. “Is there more than just your religion stopping you from feeling anything for me? I mean, it’s okay if there is. It probably means you’re not gay, but I really need to know. I refuse to say that I don’t want to feel this way about you, because I do. I like the way I feel about you. I like the way you make me feel. I just thought, perhaps…” The cold hard truth was excruciating. Flic swallowed hard. “I just thought that perhaps given that I’ve cheated death twice now and that I have to go away, you might choose to come.”
“This is all too much. I’m sorry. I just simply don’t know how I feel, Flic.”
“Please, Anna? Please come with me?”
Anna shied away from the hand Flic offered. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” She ran front-first into Val as she rushed from the room.
Flic bundled up all her pain and rejection and stowed it away to unravel and deal with later. Right now, she had to leave.
Behind Val entered Dr. Phillips and Agent Stark. They talked about her pain medication, they told her how she would be taken to the basement, how she would be driven to a safe house far from London, and how a car would follow them to ensure they in turn, weren’t being followed. Had it not been for her thumping headache and broken heart, Flic might have been impressed. Instead, she was a shattered version of herself, held together by aching bones and toxic blood that pumped through her overused veins.
They had been driving over an hour when Stark took a brief phone call. She turned to talk to Flic who was resting her head on the seat with her eyes closed. She coughed to gain her attention. “We have some news.”
Flic snapped open her eyes.
“The man who spoke to you, and who we saw on CCTV, is Alesso Redi. He’s one of the men we’re looking for from the Order.”
“And the others?”
“Tommaso Rosa and Joseph Stefan.”
“Can they leave the country? I mean surely they’ll get arrested if they try to leave,” said Flic.
“Yes. They would be arrested.”
Flic sensed a catch. “But?”
“But the job still hasn’t been done. We’re not expecting them to try to leave.”
“Because I’m still alive?”
“Something like that. We have people talking to experts, religious scho
lars and the like, and the majority believe they won’t stop until they complete their mission.”
“Are they martyrs?”
“The general consensus is that they’re willing to make the supreme sacrifice, so yes. I suppose they are.”
It was unnerving to realize that the people hunting you were willing to die in the process.
“Does this change the goal posts? I mean in terms of my safety and that of my family?” Thinking of Anna, she added, “And my friends.”
Stark shook her head. “Not at all. The plan is for you to stay hidden. They’re after you and we’re after them. They need to lie low and not get caught before they can get to you.”
Flic understood, but she couldn’t help thinking Anna was better off with her. She wished she’d had more time to try to convince her to come along.
Her ears began to ring and she closed her eyes again.
Chapter Twenty-two
There are some things the police couldn’t control, and the media had a field day in the aftermath of the explosion at Gay’s the Word. Attempting to dampen the fire, the police issued a statement saying that Flic had been moved to a safe location until the culprit or culprits had been apprehended. Photos of the suspects were all over the media and the fact that the men were from a secretive and cult like branch of the Catholic Church just fueled the fires from every angle. Groups were now forming who claimed to be antireligious. The atheists were having a field day.
It was just past midnight, and Flic sat watching the news. The safe house was comfortable enough—old and creaky and like something you’d find the middle class occupying in Pride and Prejudice. It was a modern renovation, and she occupied a bedroom and living area that wasn’t communal. Not that it mattered. There was usually only herself, one other officer, and the safe house owner—an ex army and police officer—in the house at any one time.
The demand for Holy Father, Holy Secret was at its peak. Print editions couldn’t keep up with orders, and e-book sales remained steady. The press speculated about Flic’s whereabouts in the aftermath of the bombing, inventing ever more elaborate scenarios surrounding her mysterious disappearance. No one seemed willing to report the probable boring version of events—that she was most likely hiding until the assholes that were taking pot shots at her on an increasingly regular basis, were caught. Every story had to be embellished with a conspiracy theory, a mystery entirely unrelated, and lately, Felicity Bastone was supposedly suffering at the hands of God. The bullet in Paris and now the bomb in London, all brought about because she pissed God off. Plain and simple. She wanted to throw her laptop through the TV.
The only reliable information Flic received was from the police—and that was as frequent as a meteor crashing into earth—and from the news, but considering she knew more than those idiots, she was beginning to wonder why she was bothering.
Isolation was its own form of hell. No phone and no contact with anyone other than her safe house minder and the police officer were slowly sending Flic crazy, and it had only been one week. She missed Anna, Laura, Max, and her own team of minders, but she especially missed Anna. She wondered, when it was all over, if she and Anna would be friends again. She supposed not, but allowed the faint twinge of hope to remain.
As the days passed and the assassins remained elusive, the police continued to search for clues and details of the bombing. Flic, in contrast had taken more walks in the woods than she had for years, and read more chapters of War and Peace than she ever imagined she could. In a word, she was bored.
*
“You’ll start to believe that crazy chain of thought if you write much more of it.” Seb only half teased her.
Anna was taking some well earned time off work, and because Dee had hired someone to cover her touring with Flic, she’d seen no sense in jumping straight back into things at the office after the bombing.
“Does she even know you’re pretending to be her?”
“I’m not pretending to be her behind her back.” Anna was insulted. “I know Flic. I know she’d want this continued in her absence. I’m the best person to do it, trust me.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded.
He was too quick. “Of course. Catholic homophobic girl should definitely write blogs on behalf of the world’s best known advocate for free love and freedom of choice.”
She let him have his fun. “It’s my job to sell the unsellable. I’m just doing my job. And quit calling me homophobic. It’s wearing thin now.”
He nodded. “That’s a fair call, sorry. But are you doing your job or a favor for a friend?”
“Well, I suppose I’m happily doing a favor for a friend.”
“A very good friend?”
“What’s your point?”
Clearly taking that as all the invitation he needed, Seb snatched the laptop from Anna’s lap and sat next to her on the sofa. “You’ve changed.”
Anna began to protest. It had only been a matter of time before Seb became suspicious of all her work toward the Love is Love campaign. She couldn’t describe her motivation for wanting to continue Flic’s work; it simply seemed like the right thing to do. In fact, it was the only thing she could do to settle her restless mind. The conversation with Flic in the hospital tormented her, and on an exhaustingly regular basis she swung from mildly annoyed with herself to frantically anxious that she may never see Flic again. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was a sense of loss, but the only time she felt anything resembling calm, was when she posted on the Love is Love site.
Seb was right. Of course she’d changed. How could she have lived through the past months without changing? Regardless of her feelings for Flic, she couldn’t imagine how Felicity Bastone could become a part of anyone’s life and not impart a positive change. She protested to Seb because she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know what an alternative reaction would mean, where that would take her. She protested, but it was weak and she knew it.
“No, hear me out.” Seb inhaled. “You’ve changed for the better.” He surveyed her closely. “You’re wearing chinos for starters, and your hair is lighter.” He shook his head, trying to focus. “But you seem so different, so relaxed when you’re on that thing.” He tilted his head toward the laptop. “And you’re actually willing to do this for Felicity, for the book, and for Griffin’s.”
“She’s a good person, Seb, and someone’s trying to kill her. Continuing her work is the least I can do.”
Seb nodded. “But not long ago you didn’t want anything to do with her, and now you’re writing inspirational words that the world is following. Surely you can see my point here?”
“She helped me see things a little differently. That’s all.”
Seb slouched into the softness of the sofa. “I don’t think that’s all, Anna. The only time you seem even remotely happy lately is when you’re writing this stuff.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. It’s completely true. You’re sad most of the time, you mope all day, and you talk about Felicity like I imagine you’d talk about Dee, or your priest, or someone you admire and idolize.”
Seb was right, and Anna didn’t know what to do. She had stupidly thought that knowing Flic survived relatively unharmed from the bombing and knowing she was being kept somewhere safe, would allay her fears. But she wasn’t sure it was the fear of Flic’s safety that was plaguing her. Was fear creating an emptiness inside her only Flic could fill? Was it fear sending tingles to her core when she relived the wanting in Flic’s voice when she had asked her to go into hiding at the hospital? Was it fear that left her lonely and helpless? Anna guessed not.
“Do you miss her?”
His change in tack didn’t go unnoticed, but she let it slide. Her need to talk about it was stronger than her need to ignore it. She couldn’t lie. “I think I do, yeah.”
“She relies on you, doesn’t she? At her appearances. She needs you there, right?”
“Sometimes I feel
like the glue that holds the show together.”
“And you like that feeling? The feeling that she needs you, that you have a purpose on a personal level, not just professional?”
“I reassure her, calm her down when she’s anxious, and I make sure I’m in her line of sight at all times. We work as a team—me, her, and Max.”
“I saw you after the bombing. You were worried sick about her.”
Anna stood on the precipice, unsure if she had the courage to jump. She closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, and stepped from the crumbling edge. “Ask me about something I might feel that would suggest I feel more for her.”
Seb’s face twisted in confusion.
“I’m asking for your help. Please? I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I don’t sleep, I can’t eat more than two mouthfuls, and I need to know if what I’m feeling equates to more than just friends. I need you to help me work this out.”
Seb squeezed her knee. “Okay. Let’s find a baseline and work from there.”
Anna rolled her eyes.
“I’m a numbers man.”
“I don’t think maths is my problem here, Seb.” Maybe asking Seb wasn’t such a good idea.
“Okay.” He became a little more urgent. “Scrap that. I’m going to ask you a series of yes or no questions. You just answer them as honestly as you can, and with my vast wealth of relationship knowledge, I’ll summarize for you at the end.” He smiled genuinely for reassurance.
Anna nodded. She wasn’t convinced it would work, but she needed something, anything at this stage to reach a resolution.
“Do you miss her?”
“Yes.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much?”
“That’s not a yes or no question.”
“No. Turns out I’m not as good at this as I thought.”
“Oh, Seb. Come on.”
“You miss her terribly, right?” Anna nodded. “She gives you butterflies when you see her?” She nodded again. “You have a strong sense of loyalty toward her?” Another nod. “You would go to extreme lengths to protect her.”
The Fifth Gospel Page 19
