by Lynda Renham
‘I intend asking her first thing. I love your daughter very much,’ Toby asserts.
‘Oh dear,’ mumbles Fenella.
‘Yes, right,’ responds the ATO looking confused and wandering around the room. All eyes follow him with bated breath. Mine especially. He is gorgeous.
‘Now, the intel is that ex-SAS Officer Bryant was compromised by Ms Holmes…’
‘I object,’ I interrupt. ‘That’s absolute bollocks. Libby would never compromise anyone.’ He puts his hand up to silence me and I notice he isn’t wearing a wedding ring. Ooh this looks promising.
‘Not deliberately, no, but unknowingly we think she led the kidnappers to Bryant. The rebels are getting more violent by the day…’
‘The bastards,’ curses Toby.
‘And we are fearful of what they will do. We know Bryant is very capable. He will be aware of everything that is going on and we’re hoping he will try and get a message to us…’
‘Fine chap is that Bryant. Most likely has everything fully under control, what?’ says Libby’s dad suddenly.
‘He’s a fucking pervert. I want him court-martialled or whatever it is you people do. I won’t be responsible for my actions if he comes back here,’ threatens Toby.
Fenella winces.
‘Ooh, you’d better get him some protection,’ I say mockingly. ‘Bryant won’t stand a chance against the mighty Toby.’
‘Why don’t you zip it,’ he snaps.
‘So common,’ mumbles Fenella.
‘What should we do, in the meantime?’ Jamie asks, ignoring all of us.
The door is flung open and Penelope waltzes in, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Jamie rushes to her and she falls dramatically into his arms before covering her eyes with a pair of Ray Bans.
‘There aren’t photographers or press here are there?’ she asks looking around. Good grief, she is made up to the nines, wearing a Prada dress and Coco Chanel boots not to mention a fabulous Chanel beret.
‘No, you’re fine,’ replies Jamie sympathetically.
‘Oh,’ she says disappointment evident in her voice. She carefully removes herself from his arms and looks around her.
‘Who’s in charge?’ she asks bluntly.
Everyone seems to look at everyone else before the ATO steps forward.
‘When have you arranged the press conference? I’d like to filter the questions.’
He seems unimpressed by her.
‘There will not be any press conferences, and you are?’
Jamie steps forward.
‘This is Alex Bryant’s fiancée. She flew back from Cambodia yesterday.’
‘Thank you Jamie, I can speak for myself. What do you mean no press conference? Do you have plans for getting him out of there?’
‘And my daughter also,’ chips in Fenella.
Penelope spins round and appraises Fenella.
‘You’re the traitor’s mother?’
I step in front of them. I’ll soon wipe that Max Factor from her face.
‘Now, look here madam,’ I say pompously.
She begins to look tearful and Toby, of all people, rushes to her aid.
‘She’s upset,’ the little git says sympathetically.
Upset, my arse.
‘Everything was fine, until she phoned him,’ she hiccups. ‘We were having a lovely dinner and then she phoned. Alex was very cross. I think they may have argued before we left for the restaurant. We hadn’t been there very long when she called him…’
‘We’ll need a statement from you later…’
But Penelope isn’t listening. She is centre stage and loving it.
‘I could tell he was upset by the call and kept getting irritated. He then said he had to go and fetch her because she had gotten herself lost. She was the decoy to get him there, she…’
‘Let’s get you some water, shall we?’ suggests Toby.
Oh yes, why don’t we? Let’s get enough to drown her. The ATO whips out a flip chart and I feel like I’m at a bloody board meeting. Penelope sips at her plastic cup of water while Toby makes sympathetic noises. I wonder if I should gently remind him that he is planning on asking Libby to marry him.
‘If either of them should contact you let us know immediately,’ says the ATO forcefully. Oh, I do like a forceful man.
‘Don’t try to be a hero or a heroine,’ butts in the head of somewhere else.
‘It will be featured on the news tonight. Unfortunately we couldn’t do anything to stop the news getting out.’
The ATO shoots a glance at Penelope. She sniffs.
‘We have the press under control and do not want any of you talking to them. You must stay anonymous.’
‘Can we not talk to anyone about it? I have the parish council meeting on Thursday and…’ begins Fenella.
‘No one,’ snaps the ATO. Oh, I say, he is masterful.
‘We’re having a little slideshow of Kilimanjaro,’ she whispers into my ear. ‘It would have been so exciting to have told them how Libby is fighting the rebels with Alex Bryant in Cambodia. I will have to say I have news, but it’s classified. She’s a bit of a prima donna isn’t she?’ she finishes, nodding towards Penelope.
‘Indeed,’ I agree.
‘If anyone approaches you, the response must always be ‘no comment’.’
‘Ooh, how thrilling,’ trembles Fenella excitedly.
I smile indulgently and feel a small pang in my stomach. Libby will be okay won’t she?
‘The rebels won’t hurt them will they? Alex said they’re not as bad as they have been painted,’ I ask worriedly.
‘They’re a force to be reckoned with.’
‘My sentiments entirely,’ echoes Toby.
‘We will all meet here again in two days’ time and will continue to do so until this situation is resolved. As their closest friends and allies, you should be prepared to be contacted by anyone at any time. I must reiterate that always your response must be no comment. If at any time you suspect you have been contacted by someone inside Cambodia then let us know immediately.’
Meet here every two days? I’ve seriously got to see that little runt Toby every two days, not to mention Madam Penelope. Oh, I don’t think so. I’m owed annual leave.
‘I’m going there,’ I say. ‘If Libs is in trouble I want to be there for her.’
‘Oh bravo,’ declares Fenella.
‘Tally ho, that’s the spirit,’ cries her dad.
‘Are you fucking mad?’ asks Toby.
I see Fenella cringe, God he is so coarse.
‘I’ll come with you. And I’ll bring Philippe,’ cries Jamie, ‘after all, I agreed to the whole trip and I do feel a bit responsible.’
Toby looks decidedly uncomfortable. Meanwhile Fenella claps her hands in glee and looks at Libby’s dad.
‘Let’s do it,’ she pleads. Not that I imagine she has ever had to plead for anything.
‘Jolly good,’ he answers.
We all look to Toby.
‘It all seems rather risky,’ he mutters.
‘I would seriously have to advise against it,’ interjects the ATO. ‘It is not safe to visit Cambodia right now.’
‘Perhaps you should come with us then,’ I say, attempting my best come-hither look. ‘Some of us may need protecting.’
Penelope jumps up and heads for the door.
‘In that case, I shall return. I am not dealing with all the flack here on my own. I will need to be there when they release Alex and arrest Libby. I shall be staying at the Shadow Angkor.’
And what’s that when it’s at home? It’s all I can do not to hit her. I give Toby my best evil look.
‘What did she say?’ asks a puzzled Toby.
‘She said you are a shallow wanker.’
‘If you are coming, please let me know what flight you’re on so I can avoid it,’ shouts Penelope as she exits the room.
Fenella titters. I take her by the arm and walk out on the heels of Penelope. Fenella and I watch wi
de-eyed as she climbs into a waiting taxi.
‘Why do you think Alex Bryant is with her?’ I ask, shaking my head.
‘You’re the agony aunt psychologist dear,’ winks Fenella.
Toby marches towards us, face like thunder.
‘Don’t you think it is rather reckless of all of you to go storming out there like the magnificent…’ he pauses for a second to count numbers on his fingers. ‘Six,’ he finishes.
‘At least we’re not the hesitant magnificent one,’ I retort, leading Libby’s parents to my car. It isn’t that I want Toby to join us. In fact he is the last person on earth I want to come with us, but I can imagine how devastated Libby will be when she discovers we are all there but him. Then again, it will probably devastate her that we are there at all.
Jamie calls out and mimes that he will phone me before diving into his car.
‘You could make it the magnificent seven of course,’ I call out to Toby from the car window.
‘Not if that fucking shirt-lifter is going,’ he calls back.
Jesus, I swear Toby would bring back stoning if he could.
‘Rest assured Toby, your arse will always be safe.’
Fenella titters and before he can respond I put the car into gear and drive off.
Chapter Nineteen
I have been praying that Alex Bryant will most certainly have a need for my knickers. In fact, I am so prepared for it that I have been washing and wearing the same lace-edged frilly pair for the past two days. But, disappointingly, danger seems to elude us. Isn’t it just my luck? I am now quite desperate to remove all and sundry in aid of the so-called ‘war effort’ and what does he do? He protects me so well that the chances of my having to remove even an earring are looking more and more remote. The goodnight kiss, which seems an age ago now, is seemingly the most intimate I am ever going to get with him. I have to be brutally honest with myself and admit to being something of a scarlet woman, well, in my head anyway. I haven’t given a second thought to Penelope or Toby, and it is becoming apparent that a temptress I am not, for apart from the occasional cursory glance, Alex acts as though I do not exist. It is very odd behaviour for someone who said, only forty-eight hours ago, that he found me rather appealing. Obviously, ‘appealing’ does not mean, ‘tear your knickers off’. I am beginning to wonder if I am sex-starved and perhaps I was more dependent on my old friend Orlando Broom than I thought. All I seem able to think about is sex, and not sex with my boyfriend Toby either. I am constantly thinking about sex with Alex Bryant. Although at the moment I would settle for a snog and fondle, but the only thing about me that he seems to find appealing is my cooking.
We are staying in a monastery. Our personal food supplier, named Bourey, proudly showed me around the allotment where everything I could possibly need was growing. I asked if he could bring me some supplies to make a curry. That night I made chicken Thai curry, sticky rice and cupcakes. Before I retired to bed the men were giving me their food preferences. I ask you, I get kidnapped and where do I end up… in the kitchen. And I don’t mind telling you, I am feeling quite taken for granted, in a good way. It is nice to be making cakes. It relaxes me and what’s more, I feel so content at the moment that I am not even eating them. Who would have thought that somewhere like Cambodia, in the middle of an uprising I would learn to feel contented. The past two evenings I have spent writing using the information I have gleaned from Bourey and his friends and family, although I am still very nervous about showing my articles to Alex.
‘Carrots, papaya, onions, coconut and chicken,’ Bourey says now, smiling widely as he drops the provisions onto the large battered table.
‘Tea, lemons and bags of sugar also,’ he adds in good English.
‘And flowers for the lovely lady cook,’ grins Alex, who comes in behind him. ‘Happy Christmas, Libby.’
I had forgotten it was Christmas. There is so little here to remind me. Lucky comes in carrying a huge wreath.
‘It’s the nearest we could get to a tree,’ smiles Alex. ‘Where would you like it?’
‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ I gush before I can stop myself and as usual, I blush.
Whenever he so much as looks at me, I flush scarlet. He must think I have Rosacea or something.
‘Thank you,’ I say, accepting the small bunch of flowers which he had obviously picked from the garden. I mustn’t read too much into this.
‘We see you later,’ says Bourey with a wave of his hand.
Lucky proudly affixes the wreath to the wall. We are cooking dinner for six this evening. Alex has asked Bourey to join us along with Mr Navy and Lucky. It is a special occasion, for we are hosting dinner for Samnang, the head of the rebels. I feel a little nervous having him in the safe house, but Alex said all will be fine. I have a horrible sneaky feeling that Alex may well inform me that we are going home and that is the last thing I want. All that awaits me there is Toby, who I am starting to see as more useless than Orlando and Gordon. I know I am being totally stupid in thinking that Alex might notice me in a romantic way. Let’s face it, I am one of those all rounded homely girls and not half as athletic looking as Penelope, who, Alex told me, goes to the gym every afternoon as well as her 15k run at weekends. The only ‘K’ that I do is ‘Special K’ and I didn’t like to say that I feel people should only run when being chased. I would go to the gym every day, you understand, and even run at weekends, if I was fit. That’s the problem; I’m far too unfit to go running. I only have to walk briskly and I am huffing and puffing like a steam train. Yes, I know, you have to work up to these things. The truth is, exercise just doesn’t appeal to me that much. I’m also pleased to say that sweet foods don’t appeal to me much either at the moment and I can actually feel where I have lost some weight. I imagine, and I must admit to imagining this quite a lot, that a woman who sleeps with Alex Bryant, and I go all hot just thinking about it, would need to be quite athletic to keep up with him. What a thought, it is enough to make me go all atremble. Going to bed with Alex must be a bit like going to bed with James Bond. I would most certainly like to be his Pussy Galore for one night. Although I am aware a homely, slightly overweight woman, such as me, hasn’t got a chance in hell.
‘I’ll help with the cooking this evening,’ says Alex as the door closes on Bourey.
‘You will?’ I say stupidly.
‘Unless you have some objections, do you?’
What possible objections could I have? I shake my head dumbly.
‘Good, I’ll meet you in the kitchen about five. Dress casual.’ He smiles and wanders off.
Good Lord. I rush to my room to again rummage through my sparse collection of clothes. This is ridiculous, how on earth can I make a good impression? I spend all of an hour choosing something that I can wear that is both practical and glamorous. Let me tell you, this is almost impossible. Finally, after building up a sweat that even Alex would be proud of, I settle on a top with straps as thin as shoe laces, a short-sleeved cardigan and a flouncy skirt. I can think of a thousand reasons why I would not appeal to Alex Bryant in these clothes but choose not to. Instead, I try to muster up what small amount of confidence I have and continue to bash away at the keyboard in an effort to finish the article that Alex had asked me to write. Two hours later I head back to the kitchen where he is waiting.
‘Reporting for duty ma’am,’ he says saluting me. ‘Where do you want me?’
What a question. I ask you. It is all I can to do to stop myself from replying with Stand erect and follow me into the bedroom. We’ve got some undercover work to do. Instead I blush furiously and clearly give away what is on my mind.
‘Can I stand down ma’am?’ he asks grinning.
Good heavens did he read my mind about the erectness. For goodness sake, I must pull myself together.
‘As long as you follow protocol,’ I say stiffly, and point to some onions.
‘I’ve got a visual ma’am, shall I take them out?’
‘Roger that.’
He gr
abs three onions and moves next to me at the kitchen table where he sees my folder with the articles inside.
‘Have you finished them?’
I nod as I chop the chicken into quarters. I try not to look as he glances through the sheets of paper before slipping them back into the folder. We are both silent for a time and all that can be heard is our joint chopping and slicing. He washes and slices peppers while I chop a chilli. I am struggling to think of something to say but nothing comes to my mind.
‘Toby is asking for me to be court-martialled,’ he says breaking into my thoughts.
I freeze over the saucepan. How does he know this?
‘What?’ He surely is joking? Toby wouldn’t be such a fool. I know he is stupid but surely not that stupid.
‘But, that’s mad. You’re not in the forces any more and anyway why?’
He takes the wooden spoon from my hand and stirs the pan. I feel sure his hand lingers on mine longer than it should.
‘For allegedly sexually interfering with you,’ he says huskily.
I’m not sure if it is the huskiness in his voice or the words sexually interfering that produce the tingle in my loins, but produce it does. Sexually interfering with me? God, I should be so lucky.
‘I feel sure I wouldn’t have missed that,’ I say without thinking. He turns sharply to look at me.
I’m sure I can feel the heat from his body, or is it mine? I swear I am on heat. Pussy Galore has nothing on me. If only Penelope was not on the scene I might have just found enough confidence to flirt with him. After all, Toby has let me down hugely and in the worst possible way. It has occurred to me over the past few days that I would be mad to forgive him. Who knows what he has been doing behind my back. The truth is that the whole Toby debacle has had a massive impact on my self-esteem. I honestly believe that no man could be attracted to me, let alone Alex Bryant. I’m not unattractive, I know that, but I just don’t have the extra something that Penelope has. However, what I do have, that she most certainly does not have, is fresh chilli in my eye. God it is killing me. I attempt not to let Bryant see it but it seems like I am constantly winking at him and after his comment about sexually interfering with me, my winking seems highly inappropriate.
