Thursday

by David Ridgway

  His voice drifted off as he watched Jackie silently crying in front of him. She reached out her right hand and, taking hold of his left, she squeezed it. She coughed gently to clear her constricted throat.

  “You are such a lovely person, David. You are kind, thoughtful and generous. You always seem know when to do the right thing. I have loved my time with you and I wish that it could go on forever. I don’t know how we have come to this, but we have.”

  Through her tear filled eyes, she watched David’s face slowly crumple as his own eyes filled. But he then squared his shoulders, lifted his head and took a deep breath.

  “Of course I want to stay friends with you.”

  As she replied, she squeezed his hand tighter. “I want to know everything about you. Who you meet. Who you go out with. How well you are doing in your course. Everything.”

  “Thank you, Jackie,” he replied simply. “Thank you.”

  Sebastian Fortescue Brown had enjoyed a remarkable six months. On the same day that he was invited by Michael Varley to invest in “Re-build London,” he contacted Mr Chao. A meeting was quickly arranged and suitable conduits were set up to raise funding. Both Sebastian and Mr Chao immediately appreciated that an unmissable opportunity was being presented to launder considerable amounts of dirty money. They were completely aware that the capital they could raise might not be strictly legitimate, but this new fund was an obvious facility to bring millions of off colour pounds back into acceptable circulation. In fact, ‘Re-build London’ might even be regarded as some sort of amnesty.

  This ready supply of capital from such unexpected quarters had caused Michael Varley a degree of disquiet but, following an unrecorded yet realistic conversation with the Chancellor, a time limit of one month was set before any serious compliance scrutiny of the fund was instigated. Consequently, all records from the middle of March were to be scrupulously documented and maintained. Alice was aware of this arrangement and ensured that she knew exactly what finance was completely legitimate. She set up exemplary records and kept an increasingly watchful eye over her domain.

  Prior to March, the records simply demonstrated receipts of funds, payments for specific work and repayments to lenders. The mere fact that there were ample funds available, to allow for the reparations to commence within days of the disaster, became the overriding reasoning not to delve too deeply into the exact legitimacy of the source of the funds. In addition, the immediate capital was raised as short term loans much of which were to be repaid by the Fund before the end of April. The repayments of many of these loans, of course, legitimised the returned capital.

  With Michael’s advice and knowledge, Sebastian set up a trading and investment bank, based in Guernsey, which acted as the recipient of the cash coming from the underworld. He was then able to transfer that capital to ‘Re-build London’ and, when each loan was repaid, he was able to return the now legitimised money, less a suitable commission, back to the original lender. With the fees he received for these transactions and with his own rapidly expanding wealth, he was able to open six other hotels which were operating in exactly the same manner as the Gloucester Palace Hotel. Four were in the London area, one in Birmingham and the last in Bristol.

  During the weekend following the disastrous flood, Mr Chao’s workmen started work on the secret access from the basement into the cellar of the hotel. The doorway at the bottom of the stairwell was reinstated and it became the first part of Sebastian’s security system. This door opened to reveal a descending stairway, just as on the other floors, but at the bottom of the first flight, there were no more steps beyond the half landing, only a hatched access to the bottom of the lift shaft.

  The wall facing the stairs appeared as a perfectly normal wall, but on activating the electronic key, it silently moved back six inches, before sliding to the right. Automatically, a light came on and a newly constructed half landing, behind the rear wall of the original lift shaft, was revealed. A stairway now descended to the right to a second half landing and, turning right once more, there were more steps leading to a second brick wall which was the second secret door. This was activated in a similar manner.

  Beyond the second door was a short passage leading to an ordinary wooden door with a mortice lock. When opened, a well-appointed office was revealed, with all the necessary and expected office equipment. It was richly carpeted and along the left hand wall was a bookcase filled with collectibles and first editions, a veritable antiquarian’s dream. Because the room was well below ground level with no natural light and because of the value of the library, it was blessed with excellent air conditioning, maintaining the humidity at the most appropriate level.

  Sebastian had rationalised that, if the two electronic doors on the stairway were breached, then his office, his sanctum sanctorum, would be searched and his computers taken for analysis. He even expected that his library would be seized. Consequently, in that office, he only retained information that, although sensitive, was ultimately disposable. A further access, therefore, had been constructed behind the bookcase.

  The bookcase was split into three sections and the central section acted as the doorway. Behind this section was yet another brick wall, constructed in old London brisk, so that should the bookcase be removed, a natural wall would be revealed. However, when this was activated, it also moved back six inches and then slid silently to the left. There were two rooms beyond, in the first of which Sebastian stored the proceeds of his hotels and in the second the proceeds of his other activities. All the appropriate computer records for these additional activities were maintained in these two rooms and behind very secure firewalls.

  Already, he had realised that the growth of his illicit cash was creating a growing problem and ‘Re-build London’ was a most welcome opportunity to legitimise it and more. The opening of his other hotels required a considerable outlay of capital, but he planned that the income would quickly see the new acquisitions returning satisfactory dividends.

  And because there now appeared to be a suitable and secure place to launder their money, an increasing number of ‘clients’ approached Sebastian to make use of his facilities. The future looked really good.

  Despite the difficulties facing the Underground, the media, at first somewhat sceptical, continued to support the Government in its endeavours to bring London back to normality as quickly as possible. Naturally, there were some complaints concerning the rebuilding of London Bridge and the time taken to clear and repair the tunnels of the Northern and Bakerloo Lines.

  Pamela soon returned to work at Waterloo and, as the weeks passed, the horrors of that night slowly receded from her memory. In the first couple of weeks she suffered from sleepless nights and decided that the best therapy would be to work through the trauma. She did not discuss her difficulties with Milton, particularly as he was increasingly involved with the extraction of the bodies from the tunnels and the stations on the Northern Line.

  The air temperature in the tunnels is always higher than on the surface and, consequently, the bodies began to decompose within a very short time. Each day the smell was increasingly overpowering. Identification of each corpse became more and more difficult and, finally, the authorities agreed that this work would proceed much faster if the position of each corpse was accurately logged, with a specific attempt to finalise identification at a later date. DNA identification was also logged. Following this decision, the speed of extraction increased considerably, but it was still 93 days before all the tunnels and stations were clear.

  As the bodies were cleared, the job of cleaning and disinfecting started. The pervading stench of corruption made all this activity exceptionally difficult and it was necessary to introduce incentives to get the job done at all. At last, the teams of workers were able to commence the reconstruction work in the tunnels and the stations themselves.

  Alongside this activity, the failed flood gates were all removed and replaced with new, state of the art flood defence systems. These were electronica
lly linked to the Thames Barrier so that, in the event of a recurrence of such a storm and subsequent sea surge, the flood defence system would be activated much earlier. In its turn, the Thames Barrier was connected to surge sensor indicator stations further downstream, three on either bank of the Thames, so that a continual stream of information was made available for regular and constant analysis. Based on the understanding that any detected surge at Shoeburyness and Sheerness would not reach the Thames Barrier for thirty minutes or more nor central London for over an hour, it was decided that this would be sufficient time for warning sirens to sound and verbal announcements made that the flood doors would be closed.

  Once all the bodies had been removed, Milton began to notice that the oppressive odour of death and decay slowly receded, being replaced by the cleaner smell of disinfectant and bleach. The repairs to the cabling and the track in the tunnels, especially under the Thames, were now prioritised.

  As soon as the cabling repairs were complete, power to the tracks was reinstated, making it possible to use specially converted trains for the transportation of bricks, tiles, sand and cement. The repairs to the platforms started and, once again, there was a noticeable increase in the work rates of the repair teams.

  The work continued day and night, with consistent pressure being exerted from the London Mayor and the Government. In turn, Transport for London put its own pressure on the Unions and staff members to raise their work rates. With the memory of that awful day receding from the forefront of the public’s mind, there was a growing irritation that the repair work was taking far too long. Because she was more involved with the public, Pamela was forced, more and more often, to face up to much of this mounting criticism.

  Each evening, after returning home, Milton’s conversation was now becoming increasingly positive, as he recounted that the rate of progress was speeding up. Initially, like Pamela, he had been so despondent that she was concerned for his mental state. She believed that he was suffering from depression. His demeanour deepened even further in those first few weeks, while the bodies were being extracted, but as soon as the work commenced on the reconstruction, he experienced a lightening in his mood.

  For his part, Milton observed that Pamela was becoming increasingly withdrawn. Her normal, friendly behaviour was being replaced by a quietness and a separation. Before the flood they were growing to learn about each other, but now it increasingly appeared to Milton that they were acting like two strangers living in the same house. Because they rarely talked about that night, neither realised that the other was deeply troubled, although endeavouring to cope with the stress by increasing their work load.

  At first, while Milton was facing up to his own demons, Pamela took on the role of looking after the house. As time went by, however, Milton’s black mood lifted and his whole being became more positive. Somewhat surprisingly, Pamela’s thoughts became more depressed and slowly Milton took over the household chores, leaving Pamela alone with her thoughts. He realised that she was reflecting on the events in February and as the months slowly passed into May and June, he appreciated that by working through her own trauma, Pamela had not actually come to terms with the enormity of the devastation. Rather, she had compartmentalised it all, but it was now becoming apparent that she was increasingly unable to accommodate those memories.

  Gently, he tried to engage her in conversation to see whether he was able to assist, but she rejected his well-meaning overtures. When Pamela started to demonstrate mood swings, Milton decided that she should visit her doctor. It took a certain degree of persuasion, but finally she agreed. At the end of July, she commenced a programme of mental rehabilitation, supported by Milton and her work colleagues. The prescribed drugs kept her mind on a satisfactory level, to such a degree that, on the re-opening of the Underground, she was able to celebrate that London was finally returning to normal.

  Milton now suggested that they should take time away from work and Pamela’s final hurdle of recovery was to organise a three week holiday in the Caribbean. This became the real basis of the recovery for them both, as they actively planned their holiday. It brought them closer so well that Pamela soon felt she could dispense with the tranquillisers and start to plan for the future of their lives together. At last they were both looking to the future rather than dwelling in the past.

  The junior football team in Poplar thrived over the three months following the disaster. Fred Shemming very quickly realised that the amount of time he was putting into coaching and organising the team was an excellent therapy for his own mental state. Diane had noticed a weariness and despondency immediately following the flood. She had quietly spoken with Brigade Headquarters and together, they hatched a scheme which took Fred away from the immediacy of his responsibilities at the Poplar Fire Station. This gave him the time to concentrate on his forthcoming promotion.

  Fred, having a well-tuned and canny nature, realised that something was being resolved for him behind the scenes but, being both a thinker and a strategist, he decided it would be for the best if he kept his own thoughts to himself. It soon became apparent to him, however, that he was being placed in a position of rehabilitation without actually being given the time off and, rather than being angry at being so manipulated, he realised that it rather suited his own plans. He was able to concentrate on his reading and, much more pleasurably, coaching the football team.

  Each boy’s home had been inundated so Fred, in those early days immediately following the flood, worked hard to harness their energy and enthusiasm to help to clean up their own houses and neighbourhoods. In their turn, the boys then encouraged their school friends to join them in setting up proactive teams to help with a general clean up and improvement of their whole locality.

  Slowly they watched their estates recover from the devastation caused by the sea containers. The bricks and rubble were removed from the destroyed streets and houses and dumped next to the original river defences where they would form the hard core base for the planned renovations.

  They watched as the randomly dumped sea containers were removed. The estates were cleared of these very quickly, leaving behind the mud and mess.

  They watched as the old destroyed homes were rebuilt. It was slow work as first, but as soon as the new foundations were in place, the walls and roofs followed on much more quickly. A serious attempt was made for these new homes to replicate the destroyed buildings so that, by blending in, the memories of that awful night would be encouraged to recede as quickly as possible.

  They watched the new roads being installed and, like all children before them, they delighted in the smell of the asphalt.

  The weather following the Great Storm was mild and benign. The ground dried out and the team was able to train regularly and to play matches against other similar teams. With Fred’s coaching, his boys quickly gelled together and, by the end of the season, the team remained unbeaten. Big plans were being discussed for the future.

  As she sat behind her desk in New Scotland Yard, WPC Elizabeth Drury slowly finished her report of the flood and her personal involvement. She reported in detail the activities of David Varley and his girlfriend Jackie Bleasdale. She paid particular tribute to the manner in which they had selflessly entered the crashed and flooded bus and saved the lives of all the occupants, including herself. She included in her report the assistance that was given by the two teenagers but decided to omit that she believed them to be illegal immigrants. She spent some time reflecting on her stay at the Gloucester Palace Hotel and although she felt that something was a little odd about the place itself, she was unable to specify exactly what it might be. She also included the active role played by the cabbie.

  Her report formed part of the overall report that was prepared by Chief Superintendent Keith Bleasdale, which finally found its way to Downing Street.

  In the weeks that followed, Elizabeth decided that she would re-visit the Gloucester Palace to see whether she might be able to deduce what it was that she found unsettling ab
out the hotel. It was some weeks before she was able to find the time. She found her visit rather strange, particularly as there was no one immediately available on reception. There was a bell and, after ringing it three times, a lady appeared down the stairs.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was upstairs and didn’t hear the bell.”

  Elizabeth looked closely at her.

  “You were on duty that night when London was flooded,” she said.

  “That’s right.” The girl looked more closely at Elizabeth. “You were here that night as well. You came in with those people injured in the overturned bus.”

  “I did. I know it’s a bit of an off chance, but I just wondered whether you ever heard from the Eastern European teenagers again. I remember that she wasn’t well the next morning and it’s been preying on my mind whether she was OK.”

  “Never another word. She and her brother just left the next morning and they’ve never been back.”

  “Pity!” Elizabeth stepped back from the desk as though about to leave. She then stopped and turned back to the girl. “Is the proprietor in today?”

  “I’m so sorry.” The girl shook her head. “He’s out on an appointment this afternoon.”

  “Oh well. Another time, perhaps.”

  Just as the front door closed behind Elizabeth as she left the hotel to return to the Yard, Sebastian appeared from the corridor leading to his office.

  “Who was that?”

  “She didn’t say. But she stayed here in February on the night of the flood.”

  “I thought that I recognised her. Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Not really. Only to ask whether those Eastern European teenagers had been in touch.”

  “Thanks.”

  Elizabeth’s next encounter with Sebastian appeared to be completely coincidental but, in fact, it had been completely set up by Elizabeth outside Mr Chao’s office in Soho. During one of her regular pick-ups for Chief Superintendent Bleasdale, she had seen Sebastian walking towards the office as she was leaving. She wasn’t sure whether he had seen her, but she stopped in the doorway of a café on the other side of the road, simply to observe where Sebastian would go. Much to her surprise, he entered the door from which she had just exited.