Some fuss in the Middle East, suggestions of incompetence.’
‘He’s not incompetent.’
She laughed. ‘Oh you’re such a sweetie. He’s only been with you five minutes and you’re fighting his corner. I do love a man of honour. And your chap was also flagged up as suffering from shell shock.’
‘PTSD, dear. Nobody says shell shock anymore.’
‘Don’t pick hairs, darling. My point is: the poor boy’s broken.’
‘Aren’t we all in one way or another? We are all sticks, whittled away by our experiences, some of us just get whittled more than others. He’s stronger than you think.’
‘As ever, I’ll trust your judgement. I’ll pop in and see you both tomorrow.’
‘Please don’t. I’d rather you didn’t scare him off.’
‘Scare him? Me? If he can stomach your ghosts and ghoulies, he can certainly tolerate a harmless old lady.’
‘No doubt, but can he tolerate
you
?’
‘I don’t know why I love you.’
‘It’s certainly not through encouragement on my part.’
They sat in silence for a few moments, April Shining sending delicate clouds of menthol cigarette smoke out onto the breeze. ‘Things feel …’ she paused, ‘
important
at the moment.’
‘Don’t they always?’
‘No, they don’t. You know what I mean. Years of messing around, chasing concepts and filling your days with trivial concerns …’
‘My work is important.’
‘Oh darling, I know that, but when was the last time something truly catastrophic happened? How long has it been since you held the world in your hands?’
Shining sighed. ‘A few years.’
‘And now you have someone new.’ She folded her arm around his. ‘It’s not a moment too soon if you ask me. The air’s electric, the wind’s changing. You’re about to be a very busy boy.’
d) Euston Station, London
Toby made a point of being early. He was less interested in the person who had left the note seeing
him
than he was in seeing
them
. It might be his best hope of staying ahead of the game.
He had raided his wardrobe for clothing that was neither conspicuous nor something he would frequently wear. He knew disguise wasn’t a matter of false beards and make-up, but rather a step away from the norm. So, he put aside his regular clothes, the work suits and the favoured shirts. He picked out a stained hoodie that he’d used for painting, a pair of tracksuit bottoms (bought for the gym but never actually used) and a baseball cap he’d picked up in Dubai, desperate to cover a sunburned head. He knew he wouldn’t bear close inspection but, if he kept his head low, his walk casual, he would blend in.
On the off chance that whoever had sent the note was sufficiently organised to have someone watching his front door – certainly what he would have done – Toby went out the back way, past the large rubbish dumpsters and through the rear gate. It was supposed to be kept locked at all times, but it was a rare day the caretaker remembered his keys. Most residents complained about it; Toby had just filed it away as useful.
Cutting through to Euston Road, Toby thought of an extra bit of cover, and darted into the twenty-four hour grocery store to buy himself a pack of low-tar cigarettes and a lighter. He hadn’t smoked since he’d left school, but he’d made a point of beingable to feign doing so. Another bit of window dressing to differentiate himself from Toby Greene.
The front of Euston Station was a good choice for a meet. It was enclosed and congested, a concourse of takeaway outlets boxed in by the bus station on one side and the entrance to the train station and Underground on the other. There was nowhere he could stand maintaining a distance while reliably keeping an eye on the whole area. He went into the small supermarket, bought himself a can of lager and took up residence at one of the outside tables. He opened the lager, lit a cigarette and began to watch.
It was half an hour before he was supposed to meet whoever had left the
‘He’s not incompetent.’
She laughed. ‘Oh you’re such a sweetie. He’s only been with you five minutes and you’re fighting his corner. I do love a man of honour. And your chap was also flagged up as suffering from shell shock.’
‘PTSD, dear. Nobody says shell shock anymore.’
‘Don’t pick hairs, darling. My point is: the poor boy’s broken.’
‘Aren’t we all in one way or another? We are all sticks, whittled away by our experiences, some of us just get whittled more than others. He’s stronger than you think.’
‘As ever, I’ll trust your judgement. I’ll pop in and see you both tomorrow.’
‘Please don’t. I’d rather you didn’t scare him off.’
‘Scare him? Me? If he can stomach your ghosts and ghoulies, he can certainly tolerate a harmless old lady.’
‘No doubt, but can he tolerate
you
?’
‘I don’t know why I love you.’
‘It’s certainly not through encouragement on my part.’
They sat in silence for a few moments, April Shining sending delicate clouds of menthol cigarette smoke out onto the breeze. ‘Things feel …’ she paused, ‘
important
at the moment.’
‘Don’t they always?’
‘No, they don’t. You know what I mean. Years of messing around, chasing concepts and filling your days with trivial concerns …’
‘My work is important.’
‘Oh darling, I know that, but when was the last time something truly catastrophic happened? How long has it been since you held the world in your hands?’
Shining sighed. ‘A few years.’
‘And now you have someone new.’ She folded her arm around his. ‘It’s not a moment too soon if you ask me. The air’s electric, the wind’s changing. You’re about to be a very busy boy.’
d) Euston Station, London
Toby made a point of being early. He was less interested in the person who had left the note seeing
him
than he was in seeing
them
. It might be his best hope of staying ahead of the game.
He had raided his wardrobe for clothing that was neither conspicuous nor something he would frequently wear. He knew disguise wasn’t a matter of false beards and make-up, but rather a step away from the norm. So, he put aside his regular clothes, the work suits and the favoured shirts. He picked out a stained hoodie that he’d used for painting, a pair of tracksuit bottoms (bought for the gym but never actually used) and a baseball cap he’d picked up in Dubai, desperate to cover a sunburned head. He knew he wouldn’t bear close inspection but, if he kept his head low, his walk casual, he would blend in.
On the off chance that whoever had sent the note was sufficiently organised to have someone watching his front door – certainly what he would have done – Toby went out the back way, past the large rubbish dumpsters and through the rear gate. It was supposed to be kept locked at all times, but it was a rare day the caretaker remembered his keys. Most residents complained about it; Toby had just filed it away as useful.
Cutting through to Euston Road, Toby thought of an extra bit of cover, and darted into the twenty-four hour grocery store to buy himself a pack of low-tar cigarettes and a lighter. He hadn’t smoked since he’d left school, but he’d made a point of beingable to feign doing so. Another bit of window dressing to differentiate himself from Toby Greene.
The front of Euston Station was a good choice for a meet. It was enclosed and congested, a concourse of takeaway outlets boxed in by the bus station on one side and the entrance to the train station and Underground on the other. There was nowhere he could stand maintaining a distance while reliably keeping an eye on the whole area. He went into the small supermarket, bought himself a can of lager and took up residence at one of the outside tables. He opened the lager, lit a cigarette and began to watch.
It was half an hour before he was supposed to meet whoever had left the
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