at him non-comprehendingly. ‘Why?’ I repeated. ‘What had he done ? I never understood .’
‘Oh…plenty of things. Plenty ,’ he repeated, his face suddenly flushing. Then he seemed to collect himself. ‘But what a coincidence,’ he said smoothly. ‘Your meeting my wife like that.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It was. But I didn’t make the connection immediately as of course you were called “Smith” in those days.’
‘Mulholland’s my mother’s maiden name,’ he explained. ‘I changed it when I became a journalist to make it a little more…distinctive. It’s not a crime, is it?’
‘No. That’s not a crime,’ I agreed. ‘You must have got a bit of a shock seeing me again.’
He gave me a tight little smile. ‘I guess I did. But on the other hand it’s a small world, and it did sometimes occur to me that you might pop up. Anyway,’ he glanced towards the house, ‘I mustn’t keep you. And Caroline will be wondering where I am.’ He tapped the top of the car to bring the conversation to an end. ‘Nice to see you again, Miranda. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Jimmy,’ I said as I started the engine. His smile vanished.
‘James,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s James .’
CHAPTER 4
‘That’s my answer,’ I said to Herman, as I drove back with the front windows wide open. ‘Not the slightest shred of remorse. He’s just worried in case I tell anyone. He’s probably been worried about it all these years. That’s why he decided to speak to me now. He’d clearly been wrestling with it, despite his outward calm, then at the last minute he decided he would. He saw me leaving, hesitated, then made the decision to chance it.’ For Jimmy clearly had a lot to lose. And he knew that, even now, sixteen years on, I could let the cat out of the bag. I could go to Scotland Yard and make a statement and he’d be out of Westminster before you could say ‘Big Ben’. But what good would be served by doing that, I wondered, as we drove through St Albans. Justice, of course. But who would actually benefit from it? I thought of Jimmy’s wife. She seemed a genuine, kind-hearted, nice person, and I had no wish to spoil things for her. She clearly knew nothing about what her husband had done—if he’d told her she would have been appalled. She might well not have married him. I know I wouldn’t if I’d learned something like that.
Now, as I passed Potter’s Bar, I wondered what Caroline did know about Jimmy’s past. He’d probably just told her that he’d been a bit of a radical. That would be okay. Havinggone on demonstrations in your youth, even taking part in the odd riot, is no bar to public life. Or rather, it’s no bar as long as you haven’t done anything criminal. But Jimmy had . I wondered, as I often had wondered, what would happen to me if I told. This, clearly, was what Jimmy was still banking on. The fact that I’d lose my career. It would be even worse now than it would have been before—because of who Jimmy had become. It would be all over the newspapers—I shuddered at the imagined headlines—and that would be curtains for me. Even if there were no prosecution, I’d be tarnished. The TV company would drop me like a shot. Who’d want to watch me on Animal Crackers , knowing I’d done something like that? It was one thing to spray graffiti on a fur-coat shop. It was quite another to… I shuddered again as I remembered. Yes… That was quite another thing. There was, of course, one person who would benefit from any disclosure. All I knew was his name. David White.
That night I hardly slept. It was so hot I had the skylight above my bed wide open. I could hear the gibbons shrieking in the zoo, and the occasional roar of a lion—maybe that’s why I’d had that dream about The Wizard of Oz . Less romantically, I could hear the screaming of car alarms and the dull rumble of traffic from the Marylebone Road. My mind was in turmoil as I alternately dozed and then woke. I’d tried
‘Oh…plenty of things. Plenty ,’ he repeated, his face suddenly flushing. Then he seemed to collect himself. ‘But what a coincidence,’ he said smoothly. ‘Your meeting my wife like that.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It was. But I didn’t make the connection immediately as of course you were called “Smith” in those days.’
‘Mulholland’s my mother’s maiden name,’ he explained. ‘I changed it when I became a journalist to make it a little more…distinctive. It’s not a crime, is it?’
‘No. That’s not a crime,’ I agreed. ‘You must have got a bit of a shock seeing me again.’
He gave me a tight little smile. ‘I guess I did. But on the other hand it’s a small world, and it did sometimes occur to me that you might pop up. Anyway,’ he glanced towards the house, ‘I mustn’t keep you. And Caroline will be wondering where I am.’ He tapped the top of the car to bring the conversation to an end. ‘Nice to see you again, Miranda. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Jimmy,’ I said as I started the engine. His smile vanished.
‘James,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s James .’
CHAPTER 4
‘That’s my answer,’ I said to Herman, as I drove back with the front windows wide open. ‘Not the slightest shred of remorse. He’s just worried in case I tell anyone. He’s probably been worried about it all these years. That’s why he decided to speak to me now. He’d clearly been wrestling with it, despite his outward calm, then at the last minute he decided he would. He saw me leaving, hesitated, then made the decision to chance it.’ For Jimmy clearly had a lot to lose. And he knew that, even now, sixteen years on, I could let the cat out of the bag. I could go to Scotland Yard and make a statement and he’d be out of Westminster before you could say ‘Big Ben’. But what good would be served by doing that, I wondered, as we drove through St Albans. Justice, of course. But who would actually benefit from it? I thought of Jimmy’s wife. She seemed a genuine, kind-hearted, nice person, and I had no wish to spoil things for her. She clearly knew nothing about what her husband had done—if he’d told her she would have been appalled. She might well not have married him. I know I wouldn’t if I’d learned something like that.
Now, as I passed Potter’s Bar, I wondered what Caroline did know about Jimmy’s past. He’d probably just told her that he’d been a bit of a radical. That would be okay. Havinggone on demonstrations in your youth, even taking part in the odd riot, is no bar to public life. Or rather, it’s no bar as long as you haven’t done anything criminal. But Jimmy had . I wondered, as I often had wondered, what would happen to me if I told. This, clearly, was what Jimmy was still banking on. The fact that I’d lose my career. It would be even worse now than it would have been before—because of who Jimmy had become. It would be all over the newspapers—I shuddered at the imagined headlines—and that would be curtains for me. Even if there were no prosecution, I’d be tarnished. The TV company would drop me like a shot. Who’d want to watch me on Animal Crackers , knowing I’d done something like that? It was one thing to spray graffiti on a fur-coat shop. It was quite another to… I shuddered again as I remembered. Yes… That was quite another thing. There was, of course, one person who would benefit from any disclosure. All I knew was his name. David White.
That night I hardly slept. It was so hot I had the skylight above my bed wide open. I could hear the gibbons shrieking in the zoo, and the occasional roar of a lion—maybe that’s why I’d had that dream about The Wizard of Oz . Less romantically, I could hear the screaming of car alarms and the dull rumble of traffic from the Marylebone Road. My mind was in turmoil as I alternately dozed and then woke. I’d tried
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