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The cigarette slipped from his mouth, as Prifti’s head banged against the patio flag. He lay lifeless on his back, shot cleanly between the eyes.

  Crunch time.

  Slinging the cumbersome gun over his shoulder, Sion crouched and stalked smoothly and rapidly back through the bushes, speedily reaching the perimeter fence.

  Faint shouts began to ring out as Sion leapt and vaulted himself cleanly over the wooden trellis, as he’d practised. Not looking back.

  Clearing the cutting, his balaclava removed; he stored the gun back in the case he’d concealed in the shrubbery by the fence.

  As he walked swiftly along the street, he heard the first shots ringing out. The hired white transit van was parked around the corner.

  Calmly, he stowed the cased gun out of view, behind the driver’s seat. Not that anyone was paying any attention to him. Slipping on a high visibility jacket and placing a clipboard on the dashboard, he became just another delivery van in the London suburban street.

  Moving casually into the traffic, he drove past Prifti’s place, slowing down slightly to subtly assess the situation.

  In the front driveway, the electric gates were open, and several of Prifti's muscle were waving their handguns about. He saw them jumping into their luxury cars and shouting at each other.

  But, Sion wasn’t worried. He’d already slipped into anonymity.

  With the van returned to the hire company, he headed back to Jason’s South London apartment, where he reversed parked the Volvo into a free space.

  He reached for his phone and sent a text to Irish.

  ‘I’ve made the booking and the payment’s gone through.’

  Inside the flat, he clicked into his other encrypted message space and sent another message. A thumbs-up emoji. Another job for Queen and country. The security services now had the Albanians in disarray. Next up, the Scousers would be in their sights.

  Quickly and methodically, Sion packed up his things. With the weapons safely stored in the boot of his Volvo, it was time for him, as predicted, to get out. Get off the grid.

  His heart thumped with excitement as he thought about it. About seeing Claire again.

  ◆◆◆

  It had been going through Jac’s restless mind all night. And then all morning, he went over and over it again, as he drove the tractor.

  He agonised about whether he should ask her or not, as he took the silage up to the fields. And how she’d react, and what she’d say to him, as he unloaded the bales into the feeding rings.

  Spreading the fermented grass out evenly to the sides with a fork, he worried about being rejected. He’d been too hard on her over those letters. He’d rubbed her face in it. But then, she’d deserved it.

  He smirked to himself. Once he’d taken the letters away she couldn’t help herself, she’d been desperate to read them.

  He thought about how her eyes had flashed in temper. It stirred something deep within him. He hated to admit it, but he loved that stubborn spiritedness he brought out in her. It was part of who they were together, it sparked the electricity that coursed between them.

  The wasted years. That was a damn shame. But, all the more reason to go for it now.

  Things had moved on. They’d agreed to start over.

  Moving the bales was a mucky job. It meant wading around the feeders where the animals had trampled the ground into a sea of mud. By lunchtime, his waterproofs and wellies were caked in sludge, and a sweet cloying odour clung heavily about him.

  There was no way he could ask her like this. He’d get a shower and then go up to the farmhouse to see her. Ask her out to dinner. The prospect excited him in a way he hadn’t felt for years.

  He never did dating. It wasn’t his style. As he’d told her in that last letter, he was more of a get-with-a-woman-on-a-night-out kinda guy. There was rarely a second date. If he was being honest, over the last decade he’d stuck to his rule fairly religiously. He hadn’t felt the need for a relationship. He’d always had his army buddies for friends. They’d been all the family he’d needed. But, that was then.

  Since he’d been back at the farm, he’d had nights out from time to time. He’d meet women; stay over, if he had half a chance. And he was always meticulously careful. The army had taught him that too. But, he’d not found anyone he’d wanted to spend longer than a night with.

  And that was the problem with Annie. Even though he didn’t mean to, he measured every other woman against her.

  He’d been kidding himself.

  He wasn’t over her.

  He never had been. Not even close.

  What Glyn did was tragic, but he was glad that it had brought Annie back to him. Perhaps, it was meant to be? Like fate? Not that he believed in all that guff. What mattered, was that she was here now, and he had a second chance. He couldn’t and wouldn’t pass that up.

  Shaved and smartly dressed, it was early afternoon when Jac found himself in the farmhouse kitchen. As he walked in, Annie was busy making tea and cutting up cake.

  Her face lit up flirtily at him, giving him a little hope.

  “You look good. Off out?”

  “Err… no.”

  Her nose crinkled at his abrupt response.

  It was a bad start. He was nervous as Hell.

  Annie, thankfully, seemed oblivious to his tongue-tied state.

  “Dad’s body’s been released by the coroner. The minister’s in the living room.”

  She arranged the plates and cups onto a tray to take through.

  “We can arrange his funeral, at last.”

  “Want me to come back later? I can see you’re busy.”

  For the first time in his life, he was bottling it.

  “No, don’t be daft. I’ll be right back.”

  Annie grabbed the laden tray.

  “Anyway, they were having a bit of a heart to heart when I popped my head in before. Best leave ‘em to it. Make yourself a brew, while I take this through.”

  He went over his game plan again. It had seemed straightforward, when he was on the tractor. But here, now, he wasn’t so sure.

  He felt foolish. And, what would he do if she said no? She might be angry with him, still. And there’d been no indication at all that she wanted to be more than friends. Except, perhaps, when she’d been angling about other women. And when she’d been jealous of Jess.

  The other hope he had, and he might have imagined it, was the look on her face when he’d shown up for dinner. Before they’d argued about the letters. She’d looked a little hurt. Like he’d just broken up with her. Which, technically, he had.

  “You’re looking serious.”

  The chirpy tone of her voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Uh… I was thinking… about lambing.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got your work cut out this time, pal, that’s for sure.”

  He leaned back against the kitchen unit. This was a bad idea. He put his mug down. He was chickening out.

  She stood by the side of him, leaning against the worktop too.

  “Will you be needing help?”

  “Probably.”

  Annie was quiet for a moment.

  He could seriously use her if she was up for it.

  “Wanna give me a hand?”

  “If I’m here.”

  She bumped her shoulder against his arm playfully.

  “Depends on how much you’re gonna pay me?”

  He bumped her back.

  “Depends on your experience.”

  She pivoted around sparkily.

  “Got more experience than you, mate. And much better hands.”

  She held them up against his, measuring their daintiness against his big paws.

  Her eyes danced as they met his, but her voice shook slightly.

  “See… much better.”

  Stealing himself, he interlaced her small fingers with his.

  “Annie?”

  Her emerald eyes gazed up searchingly, drawing him magnetically in towards her.

&nbs
p; “Yes?”

  He couldn’t help himself.

  Her breathing quickened as he leaned in close.

  “Would you…? D’you wanna...?”

  The front doorbell cut shrilly across his inarticulate utterances as he struggled to ask her out. Or kiss her. One of the two. Or both.

  It rang impatiently again.

  Letting out a small sigh, she moved apart from him.

  “I’d better get the door. It might be a visitor for Mam.”

  The bell rang out insistently for a third time as if whoever it was, was keeping their finger on it until somebody answered.

  “Bloody rude.”

  Jac raked a hand through his hair. The moment was broken, and he’d failed.

  “If it’s a delivery driver, I’m gonna tell them where they can go.”

  Straightening herself up, she walked through the hall to the front door.

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

  Jac sloped after her.

  “Annie.”

  She was standing, mouth open, staring at a tall, well-groomed stranger on the doorstep.

  “Seb.”

  Jac could see the man’s taxi disappearing down the track.

  “Can I come in?”

  “What you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Could you not have phoned?”

  “I did. There was no answer.”

  She shrugged resignedly and stepped to one side to let the stranger into the hallway.

  From the shadows, Jac studied this ‘Seb’. He was older than her. In his early forties, Jac guessed. His dark hair was beginning to pepper with a little grey at the sides. But there was an air of sophistication about him that made Jac think that he could have stepped straight out of a department store clothing advert.

  There was no doubt that he was perfectly put together, but there was something shallow about him too. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was to do with his smile. It didn’t match the steely intent of his eyes.

  Stepping up to embrace her, Annie froze. Taking the hint, he settled for a perfunctory peck on each cheek.

  They both moved through to the kitchen, and Jac slunk awkwardly behind.

  He needed to get out of there.

  He didn’t know who this bloke was, but if Annie had a boyfriend, then he’d had a lucky escape not asking her out.

  There’d clearly been a thing between the two of them, although judging by Annie’s reaction to him now, it didn’t look as if they were still friends.

  He could still read her well enough to sense that she wasn’t pleased at all that he’d turned up unannounced at the door.

  “Seb, this is Jac. He lives next door. Seb’s my boss in London.”

  He eyeballed Jac.

  “And Annie’s good friend.”

  The fiery glare she hurled back at Seb after he said that, made Jac smirk.

  He was right. She wasn’t a happy bunny.

  “I’d better be off.”

  Jac grabbed his coat.

  “I’ll leave you to it. Good to meet you Seb.”

  Her boss didn’t grace Jac with a response.

  Annie looked torn as she guided Seb to sit down at the table, following Jac with her eyes as he went to the porch to put on his boots.

  Neighbour? Is that all he was to her?

  “Jac, wait up. Please.”

  She rushed through to the porch as he was finishing tying his laces. He straightened up as he saw her approaching. Her face was flushed and her bright green eyes sparkled angrily.

  “This. It’s not what you think. I’ve no idea why Seb’s here. And he’s not bloody well staying, either.”

  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he steadied her.

  “Why would he come here, Annie? There’s obviously some unfinished business between you two.”

  Running her teeth over her bottom lip, she stared up at him, her eyes pleading.

  “We’re not together. I mean, we were once, but it wasn’t anything. Except a big mistake. I’m not sure what he wants… But, whatever it is, I don’t want him.”

  His pulse raced.

  Unable to help himself, he ran his palm gently across her soft, reddened cheek.

  Inexplicably drawn, he felt himself bending towards her. His lips, at last, gently finding hers for the lightest, fleetest of kisses.

  She didn’t resist. Or recoil, this time.

  She was trembling.

  “Jac, what did you want to ask me?”

  “It’s alright, Annie. Go sort this, first.”

  His lips brushed over hers again, resting there a while longer. He felt her mouth parting, but he pulled away.

  “We’ll talk again.”

  Taking a deep breath, Annie shook her head, and made her way slowly back into the kitchen, to face whatever it was, with Seb.

  CHAPTER 10

  -----------✸----------

  Seb tells me from the outset that he isn’t staying, and I drive him to the station myself, to make sure that he catches the last train back to London.

  The visit hasn’t been about our relationship. I’m not sure why he felt the need to wind Jac up like he did; he said himself that we’re well and truly over. Now it’s sunk in, he’s relieved about that too.

  No, this visit is all about him. Or more explicitly, about him saving his own neck.

  Trusty Rusty, our ancient SUV, isn’t exactly the style of travel he’s accustomed to. At first, I’m ashamed about the state of it, myself. Dad was never very tidy. But, it’s hilarious watching him trying to save his expensive woollen coat from the bits of dirt on the tiger seat cover.

  “Don’t tell them, Annie. I beg you.”

  I switch off the engine.

  Even though I’ve told him, I don’t know how many times, what I’m going to do; he still seems distrustful of my intentions. And I’m quite enjoying watching him squirm.

  “I’ve got a huge mortgage and school fees to pay.”

  His whining is pathetic.

  “If I lose my job, Marnie will leave me, for sure.”

  “She should've left you long ago.”

  My voice sounds more bitter than I feel. In truth, the only thing I feel is irritation that he’s invaded my world.

  Hands rigid on the steering wheel, I stare forward at the windscreen.

  “I told you. I’ll do it.”

  He takes that as a dismissal.

  And it is.

  I never want to look at him or speak to him again.

  He hops out of the rusty truck without another word, shutting the door on his coat. Wrestling it free, he slams the door hard behind him for a second time, then dashes off for the train.

  I watch Seb disappear out of my life, but my mind is full of Jac.

  And how my heart thumped as his lips found mine.

  Before I head back home, and while I’ve got a phone signal, I decide to make the call.

  It clicks through to Lisa; Director of People Empowerment.

  “Annie.”

  She sounds surprised to hear from me.

  “We’re in the process of writing to you about a matter. How are you?”

  I’m pretty wound up as it is. And the way she stresses the fake emphasis of concern lights the fuse. In fact, it takes me all my self-control not to scream.

  I just about manage that, but I can’t suppress an unstoppable urge to shock her out of that corporate smugness of hers.

  “I’m not so good actually, Lisa. My father hanged himself on the same day you suspended me.” Boom.

  Silence.

  Lisa’s flummoxed.

  It was a pretty crappy thing to fling at her.

  “You’re entitled to compassionate leave,” she says quietly.

  “Does that mean, I’m not suspended?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Another silence.

  “So, this silly misunderstanding still hasn’t been resolved?”

  Hesitation again.

  L
ike the sea sucking backwards from the shore.

  Luckily, Seb has given me the heads up.

  “Annie.”

  Her tone is cold.

  “We’ve had some further allegations made since your suspension. About your personal conduct, that goes against organisational policy… with an unnamed member of staff.”

  “What! Who made those allegations?”

  Lisa confirms what Seb has told me, but I want to find out where it’s come from, so I’m playing along.

  “A formal complaint has been made by one of your subordinates. She says that she was forced to cover for you and to listen to your unprofessional comments at work.”

  This is more than Seb has told me.

  He said that they’d been told that I was having an office affair. Breaking their relationships policy. He said nothing about unprofessional behaviour.

  Covering up? Unprofessional comments? Allegations by one of my team?

  My mind races.

  Who could it be?

  Someone who’d benefit from me gone.

  The tsunami hits land, and its realisation sweeps me away.

  It couldn’t be, could it?

  Not Stacey, surely?

  Not my friend?

  “There’s no easy way to say this,” Lisa continues, “We need to set up a full disciplinary hearing about your professional conduct. I’ll email you with a date, probably next month now, due to your personal circumstances.”

  I can’t take it all in.

  “Who told you these things?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  The betrayal floors me.

  “What about him?”

  “We need to know who it is you had a relationship at work with, Annie. You need to tell us.”

  This is why he came.

  There’s a full minute’s silence on the phone between us.

  This is for Marnie. Although we’ve never met, the woman has now attained sainthood, in my mind.

  I don’t give a toss about him.

  “We’ll pick this up at the hearing,” Lisa drones on. “In the meantime, you must clear your mind of work. Your wellbeing is important to us, Annie. Make time to grieve. If you need to talk to anybody, we can arrange for a counsellor. Try some yoga.”

  “Fuck your yoga!”

  I end the call.

  My wellbeing was fine until she suspended me.

  It’s confirmed. Seb has cost me my job.