Over Your Shoulder

by C J Carver

  Her parents had flown over as soon as they’d heard she’d been mugged.

  ‘They only saw me a few times,’ she confessed to me one day, ‘because I couldn’t bear them visiting. They kept comparing the old me with the new me. I hated it. I hated the girl I used to be. She sounds so wet.’

  It had been Susie’s doctor who’d gently suggested her parents return home, to New Zealand.

  ‘He could see how stressful it was, for all of us. They wanted their compliant docile daughter back but I couldn’t do it. Having them drip all over me wasn’t doing my recovery any good. It was awful, but it was such a relief when they left…’

  Her mother, gamine like Susie, with a thick shock of short black hair, seemed to agree. ‘We wanted to help, but all we seemed to do was make things worse,’ she acknowledged once, in a rare moment of honesty. ‘She got terribly angry with us. The doctor told us this was normal, but I found it really difficult. The old Susie was much gentler. She’s quite impulsive now, and less able to control her temper. She says it makes her better at work. More edgy.’

  That would be right.

  Her father said, ‘The doctor said they think the frontal lobe was compromised. Which is why she didn’t behave like herself anymore. She thought she was fine, that nothing had changed, but we could see this was absolutely not the case.’

  ‘And now?’ I asked him.

  ‘She’s pretty much back to normal. She wouldn’t be able to do the job she does, if she wasn’t.’ Victor smiled, but it was sad. ‘I miss my little girl though.’

  Susie never talked about the attack but I knew it still haunted her. Out of nowhere she’d turn moody, antagonistic and difficult, and if I didn’t know it was because of the bastard who’d beaten her up, I would have really struggled because she’s pretty unbearable at those times. Luckily, they don’t last, maybe two days max, and then she’s back on track. I’m sure she lashes out because they never caught the man. She never got justice. If he was behind bars she could put it behind her and move on.

  Sometimes I fantasised about finding her attacker and giving him some of his own medicine, punching him until I broke the bones in his face, but that’s all they were. Fantasies. I’m not really a fighter. Aside from those two bullies of Rob’s, I haven’t raised a hand to anyone else. My mind switched to think of my brother. I wouldn’t have thought he was a fighter either, except the punches he’d pulled on the gunman in the restaurant told a different story.

  Our Skype session with Susie’s parents was its usual stilted affair with her mum trying too hard and her dad interjecting with odd little witticisms that kept falling flat. When Susie left me to talk to them alone, I jumped right in. I said, ‘I know what Susie’s job is.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘I see. I’ll let you chat to Victor.’

  Victor came into view. ‘So she told you at last.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wondered if she ever would. It shows how much she trusts you.’

  ‘She told me I can’t lie very well.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll find it in you to learn a new skill on her behalf.’

  I smiled back, rather taken by the idea of getting a degree in duplicity.

  ‘She’s ambitious,’ he warned me. ‘I have every expectation she’ll be head of her section before the year is out. From there she’ll take another position, maybe working against digital threats or becoming a special emissary overseas, because one of the main requirements to become head of MI5 is a background of variety and experience. She’s already been an agent, as well as recruited and run her own agents. She’s done serious fieldwork in her time both overseas and at home. She’s rising fast, son.’

  ‘Head of MI5?’ My voice didn’t exactly squeak but it was definitely an octave higher than usual.

  ‘Are you up for it?’

  Bloody hell. Did I have a choice? Probably not, if I wanted a happy wife. ‘I guess so.’

  He smiled, a broad smile that lit up his face. ‘Good, good.’

  I left Susie for a little while, expecting her to finish the call but when I returned, they were still speaking. He was looking at her and she was looking back. She said, ‘I’m sorry I’m not the daughter I used to be.’

  ‘I know, my darling one.’ He blew her a kiss. ‘I know.’

  I sneaked away, leaving them to their privacy.

  Chapter 15

  When we got home, we made supper and once we’d mopped our plates with some crusty bread and pushed our plates aside, Susie said, ‘There’s something else I have to tell you.’

  There was more? I just looked at her.

  She suddenly appeared unsure, but then she put her shoulders back. ‘You’re not going to like this either.’

  I braced myself. Please God she wasn’t going to confess an affair with James Bond. Not only would I never recover but I wasn’t sure if I could take any more surprises.

  ‘It’s to do with Rob.’

  I went blank. ‘Rob?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t meet him at any social events. I met him in the Office. He worked for us. MI5.’

  ‘MI5? Rob?’ I laughed. I couldn’t help it. If I’d struggled picturing him commuting to London before, slogging his guts away in an office job, then this was right on the edge of credibility.

  ‘You shouldn’t laugh.’ Susie frowned. ‘He was, by all accounts, an excellent agent.’

  I opened and closed my mouth.

  ‘He didn’t work for us for overly long. A year or so before he… vanished.’

  ‘He wasn’t a communications strategist?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Jesus.’ I tried to get my mind around it. Yes, Rob was a risk-taker, but even so, it was incredible. No wonder we hadn’t a clue about what he’d got up to in London.

  ‘What area did he work in?’

  ‘I never knew, sorry. I just met him from time to time, that’s all.’

  She stood there, watching me. Her expression was deadly serious.

  ‘Why didn’t he tell me?’

  She shrugged but I felt a cold finger of dismay run down my spine. Just like my wife, my brother probably thought I couldn’t lie well enough to keep him safe. I closed my eyes. Pictured my parents’ faces when we told them the news. They would be gobsmacked but not just that, they’d be so proud.

  Despite myself, I gave a chuckle. ‘Mum and Dad will never believe it.’

  ‘You can’t tell them, Nick.’ Her tone was fierce. ‘They’ll want to know how you know and the more people who know what I do, the higher the risk of exposure. Even by keeping quiet at the wrong moment could alert someone and jeopardise me.’

  ‘Ah, shit.’ I rubbed the space between my brows. ‘They’d have loved it.’

  ‘I know. But it’s impossible. Careless talk costs lives. It really does.’

  I sighed. ‘Just you and me then.’

  She fiddled with her wine glass.

  I said tentatively, ‘Do you think it was Rob’s work with MI5–’

  ‘We call it the Office.’

  ‘His work with the Office… could it have got him into trouble with the Saint?’

  ‘Nick, I’ve already said I don’t know what he was working on.’ I could sense the irritation that she was having to repeat herself. ‘But yes, it could have done.’

  ‘Do you know who he worked with there?’

  She looked away. It was a delaying tactic. She knew, all right, but didn’t want to say. I switched subject.

  ‘Do you think Rob was trying to take Abbott down?’

  ‘What?’ She looked startled.

  ‘While he was working with MI5. That would explain it. He’d found something on the Saint that would put him away. That’s why Abbott’s after Rob. To silence him.’

  ‘It’s a theory,’ she agreed.

  I poured us some more wine. ‘I want to talk to whoever ran Rob. His case officer, or whatever they’re called. They’d know what was going on at the time.’ I leaned forward. ‘Perhaps we could find somethin
g that would finish Abbott for good, and Rob could come home.’

  ‘It’s a nice idea,’ Susie said drily. ‘But considering more experienced, trained people have tried to get Abbott and failed, I can’t see how we’d do much better.’

  ‘But what if Abbott gets to Rob before we do?’ My mind was galloping ahead. ‘He’ll probably kill him. We need to get to Rob first… we could use him as bait and entrap Abbott and–’

  Susie pushed back her chair and went to the sink.

  ‘Leave it,’ I told her. ‘I’ll do it tomorrow morning. Not now.’

  She ignored me and started clearing up.

  ‘Susie, come on.’

  She turned round. I saw a spark of anger in her eyes. ‘You want to take on George Abbott?’

  ‘Not me personally.’ I shifted on my chair. ‘But if MI5 had something on Abbott, and Rob had been involved with it back then, wouldn’t they have kept records? Couldn’t we use them?’

  Susie looked at me with a weird, angry light in her eyes.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, what?’ I flung up my hands.

  ‘No, you are not going after Abbott. He’s one of the most dangerous people in the UK, Nick. And I am not having my husband sniffing around the Saint who the moment he hears of it, will take him into the forest and kill him.’

  Put like that, it didn’t make my quest sound particularly wise.

  ‘I still want to meet Rob’s case officer though,’ I said.

  ‘No.’

  This time I got to my feet. ‘Why not?’

  She looked away.

  ‘Susie?’

  ‘Look, he’s way up the totem pole now. He’s rumoured to become the next DG.’

  Director General. Which, as she’d admitted the previous day, was her ambition. My wife. Superwoman. Who was looking particularly mulish.

  ‘Come on, Suze,’ I persisted. ‘Just because he’s a big cheese shouldn’t stop us from asking, surely. What if he knows something about Rob and Abbott that could help us? There have to be files he can dig up. And aren’t most of you guys known for your brilliantly retentive memories?’

  She bent over and opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves. Ran the tap in the basin. Squirted Fairy Liquid inside. Started washing up. We’d talked about installing a dishwasher a while back but the kitchen area was so small we’d have no cupboards left and we’d be forced to store our canned goods, muesli and the like, in the sitting area. So we’d decided against it.

  I watched her take a plate and dip it in the water. Soap it with a sponge. Her shoulders were set, her movements stiff and angry. When she was like this, I knew I shouldn’t press any further, but I couldn’t help myself.

  ‘What’s his name?’ I asked. ‘Rob’s case officer?’

  She spun round, gloves dripping water and suds.

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ she said. ‘You know that.’

  ‘Ask him for me. Ask about Rob. Please.’

  She turned back to the sink, didn’t say anything.

  ‘Suze?’

  ‘Drop it, Nick.’

  I took another glug of wine. ‘No.’ If she could give monosyllabic responses, so could I.

  She paused. Finally, she turned around. Snapped off the gloves and placed them carefully on the draining board.

  ‘Have you given any thought to me in all this?’

  I looked at her blankly.

  ‘I thought not.’ Her voice was cold.

  ‘What about you?’ I said. ‘It’s no skin off your nose to ask a simple question about my brother. My brother who’s been missing–’

  ‘Shut up.’

  Her voice was like a slap.

  ‘Imagine this,’ she bit out. ‘I’m applying for my next job. Say it’s with HM Customs & Excise. When they discover that I have a relative who has some kind of history with one of the most notorious smugglers in the country, how do you think they’re going to react?’

  ‘They can’t tar you with Abbott’s brush,’ I protested. ‘You’re nothing to do with Rob.’ I looked at her, my mind racing. ‘Or were you involved with Abbott too?’

  A look almost close to amusement crossed her face and for a strange moment I was reminded of the Saint.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I had nothing to do with Abbott. I don’t know about Rob, but…’ She took a breath. ‘Have you ever considered Rob might not be as snow white as you thought?’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She folded her arms. ‘What do you think?’

  My brain was sluggish with wine but I finally got there. I gulped. ‘You think Rob was on Abbott’s pay roll? That he was a double agent or something?’

  She didn’t say anything. Just watched me.

  ‘He wouldn’t.’ I shook my head. ‘He’s not an angel, but he wouldn’t let someone like that get one over on him.’

  ‘What if he was coerced? His family threatened?’

  Another penny dropped.

  ‘He’d disappear.’

  She continued looking at me. Finally, she gave a sigh. ‘I’ll ask. Okay?’

  I bit my lip. ‘I don’t want to mess things up for you…’

  ‘Yes. But even so, I really don’t want to abuse my position. Or become known for it. I’d like to keep Abbott and Rob out of my workplace, if it’s possible.’

  I fell silent. I couldn’t think of anything more to say. It was up to her how she wanted to approach it, but I couldn’t stop from having the last word because although a small part of me felt ashamed, the other part was still pissed off.

  ‘I’d still like to meet his case officer though.’

  We didn’t talk much for the rest of the evening, and when we went to bed, she turned her back to me.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, I was still feeling annoyed over Susie’s reluctance to involve Rob’s case officer, and when my mobile rang, showing number unknown, I answered it more brusquely than usual.

  ‘Is that Nick?’ a man asked hesitantly. He made it sound like Neek.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It is Etienne here. Robert’s old sailing friend?’

  ‘Hey, Etienne.’ My voice immediately warmed as I pictured him, dark curly hair and blue eyes perpetually squinting as though looking out across a sun-sparkled sea.

  ‘Is it true that Robert is alive?’

  I’d forgotten he always used Rob’s full name, never shortening it. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s true.’ I took the phone to the sitting area window and looked out across the damp and wilted winter plants.

  ‘Incredible. Has he contacted you at all?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘If he does…’ He paused. I heard him say something to someone else in the background. ‘Tell him I would like to see him.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Etienne… would you mind if I ask a couple of questions?’

  ‘No, no…’ There was a pause before I heard him speak to someone else once more, then he said, ‘You have no idea where he might be?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Etienne, can I ask when you last saw Rob?’

  ‘Of course. I remember it clearly. It was in August, twelve years ago. Sunday the fourth.’

  Three weeks before Rob disappeared.

  ‘Where was this?’ I asked.

  ‘Ibiza.’

  I blinked. I’d had no idea Rob had been anywhere near the Spanish party island around the time of his disappearance. ‘What was he doing there?’

  ‘He was taking a boat from Port de Sant Antoni to Hamble for a friend.’

  ‘He delivered it okay?’

  ‘Yes, no problem. I spoke to him just after he’d arrived.’

  ‘When was that?’ I asked.

  ‘The twentieth of August.’

  It was roughly a two thousand nautical mile journey, and if Rob hadn’t stopped and sailed through the night, the timing made sense.

  ‘What was he doing in Ibiza?’ I asked.

 
‘Sailing, getting some sun.’

  I could almost picture Etienne’s shrug as he spoke but something in his voice didn’t sound right. My mind snaked away from the party scene. Had Rob been on assignment out there? Meeting someone on behalf of MI5 maybe? A suspect, a terrorist? Could he have been spying on someone? His professional yachting experiences would have made a great cover.

  ‘What about you?’ I added.

  ‘The same… No–’ I could tell he’d been interrupted and he’d partially covered the mouthpiece and was now talking to someone else but not in English or French. ‘No, él no sabe, él no sabe nada,’ he was saying. He was speaking rapid Spanish. ‘Te lo prometo yo no miento.’

  ‘Who’re you talking to?’ I asked, but he didn’t hear me.

  More rapid Spanish. My nerves tightened as it grew more heated.

  ‘¡Lo juro,’ Etienne said over and over. ‘¡Lo juro.’

  ‘Etienne,’ I called.

  ‘Yes, Nick,’ he came back. ‘I am here.’ His breath was short, almost panting. He was obviously under stress.

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ I asked for the second time.

  ‘A friend of your brother’s.’ His voice was pitched higher than usual. ‘He wants to know where Robert is.’

  ‘This friend, he’s Spanish?’

  ‘Yes.’

  More yammering in Spanish. This time Etienne sounded really panicky. Suddenly, silence.

  ‘Etienne?’ I said urgently. ‘Etienne?’

  Then he was back on the line. His words came in breathless bursts. ‘This friend,’ he said. ‘You see, Robert owes him some money. He would like it returned.’

  All the hairs on the back of my neck rose.

  ‘How much money?’ I asked.

  ‘Tell Robert to help me,’ he said. His voice was scared. ‘Please.’

  The line went dead.

  My fingers were trembling as I rang the number for Etienne that Clara had given me the night before. I heard it connect, and then it rang and rang. No messaging service. I let it ring out and then I sent a text asking him to call me.

  Then I rang Clara.

  ‘What’s this about Rob being in Ibiza before he disappeared?’

  ‘What?’