The Milieu Principle

by Malcolm Franks

Matt was more than pleased with his purchases. Light checked shirt, dark blue ‘boot fit’ jeans. Really cool looking leather half boots and a soft half cotton/ half linen beige jacket, ideal for the hot climate with it being light and having enough pockets to carry a small arsenal.

  He strode in the direction of the lakeside, passing the infamous CN Tower on his way. He looked up to see if his eyes could see to the top of the structure, which seemed to leap up from the ground and touch the sky. He could just make out the circular hub of the restaurant floor, near the top of the building. He decided against taking an evening meal from that height as he’d spent most of the day in the air already. He moved on.

  It was almost five in the afternoon when he approached the lakeside. He hoped to get a seat as close to the edge as possible for a good view of Lake Ontario, only to find the area crammed with tourists and locals. He spent many minutes walking the front and was beginning to despair. Then he spotted a free table, under a big tree at the front of the largest open air restaurant at the waterside. It was exactly what he wanted. Matt dashed for the entrance to ensure he got there ahead of an approaching elderly couple, and the waiter led him to the table he’d spotted. Picking up the dirty glasses he offered to bring a menu.

  “Yes, please,” said Matt. “Can I have a large Canadian to start with?”

  While he waited for his lager, Matt looked around the restaurant. The inside eating area, about thirty yards away, was virtually empty he noticed. So warm was the evening almost everybody had decided to eat al fresco.

  There were probably something like fifty or more small wooden dining tables interspersed around a number of large trees, each offering shade from the beating sun by their large overhanging branches. Matt was nothing like a tree expert but, to him, they resembled oaks. The tables surrounded three sides of the inside restaurant and they were all crammed to capacity. Mostly they were families and groups of young people all hunched around eating, drinking and laughing in the shade.

  What he would have given to be amongst their number, amongst noisy life. The simple pleasures of eating a good meal and sharing a couple of bottles of red wine amidst a throng of people, to be normal, seemed such a precious gift to him right now.

  He turned his gaze back to the water. Having secured a prime table, slightly elevated from the ground to allow him to look over the passing throng, his was an unobstructed view of the great Lake Ontario. The vast expanse stretched out in the distance, further than his eyes could see. Over to the right, an airport sat among trees on what looked like an island in the lake. A number of ferries slipped backward and forward and a light plane flew overhead, trailing a long banner with the name Toronto Business Systems.

  He sighed at the thought of having to eat his meal alone. His melancholy was broken by the returning waiter, armed with Matt’s lager and an A4 sized restaurant menu. Taking a thirst quenching drink he studied the fare. It didn’t take long to choose.

  Sipping at the alcohol while he waited for his meal, Matt’s thoughts returned once more to the next destination of his journey. He had set his mind on Vancouver Island. Although he had made a day trip there a couple of years ago he hadn’t stayed, and he remembered using cash for the ferry ride. He planned to take the scenic route. Canada was a massive country. If he planned the route and transport modes carefully, using only cash, it would be difficult to track him. He’d already picked up bus and train timetables and began to thumb through each of them in turn, checking the timings and scheduled stops along the way.

  “Hiya!” came a sudden voice, and he responded by looking in the direction of the call.

  It was Rosa Cain.

  “I’ve been looking for somewhere to eat for ages. Then I saw you sitting on your own and I told the waiter you were waiting for me. You don’t mind do you?” she bubbled enthusiastically.

  She was still talking at the speed of light.

  “Of course not, welcome the company,” he replied.

  In truth, he really was pleased to see a familiar and friendly face.

  Stuffing the timetables into his inside pocket, he moved the other seat out from under the table to allow her to sit down.

  Rosa had changed into a bright orange three quarter top accompanied by a neat pair of fawn, linen trousers which half covered the brown open toed sandals on her small feet. Her hair was tied into a pony tail showing more of her beautifully rounded face, and the pink covering on her lips added to her natural beauty.

  “Well this is a bit of a pleasant surprise,” she beamed. “I was really beginning to despair of ever getting any grub at all tonight. You’re a real saviour, Matt.”

  He couldn’t help but feel a degree of pride. As though he’d done something worthy when, in fact, he’d been fortunate. And inconsiderate towards the elderly couple he had forcibly brushed past to get to this table.

  “You must have good contacts, to get a table right by the lakeside. These things are like gold dust.”

  “Lucky, I guess,” he shrugged.

  “Ooh I doubt that, Matt Durham. You’re obviously a man who knows what he wants and is prepared to do whatever it takes to get it.”

  He inwardly cringed with embarrassment.

  “You over-estimate my prowess. Those halcyon days of empire have long gone. We’re all mere tourists now, waiting our turn.”

  “I like that in a man,” she said. “Humility, an endearing quality and very intriguing,” she added, gazing deep into his eyes.

  Matt felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to being chased and it felt like he were prey. He decided to change tack.

  “How’s the shopping going?”

  Rosa responded by sitting upright in her chair and drawing her hands down over the top her body before lifting one of her shapely legs up in the air, to show off her new trousers.

  “There, see for yourself. What do you think?”

  “You certainly know how to shop. Perhaps it should be an Olympic sport. You’d be my favourite for the gold medal.”

  She gave out another of her loud, throaty laughs and he smiled gently at the pretty woman with the warm personality.

  “And what about you?” she asked. “What have you been up to these last few hours?”

  “Research, on the laptop back at the hotel,” he lied.

  “I hope you haven’t been surfing the net for information on me,” she giggled.

  “No, no. Only some work and stuff.”

  “What stuff is that then?”

  Matt felt uneasy about her subtle prying, and tried to think of some sort of plausible story to counter Rosa’s questioning. His hesitation to respond only seemed to fuel her interest, as if he had thrown lighter fluid onto flames.

  “So what do you do?” she asked him directly, taking Matt by surprise.

  “I’m afraid my life pales into insignificance in comparison to yours,” he replied. “Mine is a mundane existence.”

  “So what do you do?” she asked again, her blue eyes sparkling inquisitively.

  He smiled back and tried to hurry his mind into coming up with a vaguely acceptable, believable, answer.

  “I work for a company in Newcastle, developing business systems for employers.”

  “You mean like accountancy packages, that sort of stuff?”

  “Yeah things like that,” he shrugged. “It’s all really dry stuff and guaranteed to be a real conversation killer,” he smilingly added trying to deflect her interest.

  “My, it’s amazing to think any Canadian company could be interested in the way things are done in the UK,” she teased. “In fact I would be surprised if they had ever heard of Newcastle, or knew it even existed.”

  He feigned a smile, feeling pressured into releasing more information than he wanted.

  “Yeah, well it’s a very small world these days. Apparently, there’s a company over here developing a new system that the boss wants me to look at. Hey, when someone asks if you want a trip to Canada, on expenses. You’d be mad to refuse.”

  “Gos
h!” she exclaimed. “You’re on a freebie too. Who is the lucky business that has the benefit of your company over the next day or so?”

  “Toronto Business Systems,” he replied instinctively, recalling the name on the trailer banner from the plane. “To be honest, I’m quite looking forward to seeing them and meeting some different people. It‘s not often a computer nerd gets to step out of the office.”

  His words made Rosa emit a throaty laugh.

  “Ah! Poor Matt, I don’t think you’re anywhere near as nerdy as you say you are. You shouldn’t undersell yourself.”

  It was a gentle, innocuous remark but it warmed him all the same. Right now Matt would accept anything to massage his ego, and this felt like the ideal fillip for his woes. Her smile widened as she watched him absorb the compliment.

  “Perhaps I just need to get out more,” he said. “Meet a wider range of people. Now psychology, for example, sounds like a more interesting topic for a dinner conversation.”

  “Ah, aren’t you sweet,” she said. “You really were listening to me chatter on in the taxi.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “It would have been rude not to,” looking her straight in the eye as he smiled into her friendly gaze.

  “I think there is much more to you, Mister Durham, than you are letting on. I’ve got a psychology degree remember, fully trained to find the real person behind that look of reserve and coy humility,” she joked. “An hour, that’s all I’ll need to uncover the real Matt. I suspect underneath the mask exists many deep, dark hidden secrets and beats the heart of a very dashing and dangerous man indeed,” giving out another of her throaty laughs.

  If she only knew, thought Matt, how much closer to the truth she was. He really did possess some sort of deep, dark secret. Except Matt didn’t know what the secret was either. Somehow, he had to change the subject, move the topic of conversation away from himself.

  “Perhaps we should concentrate on the weather instead then,” he answered dryly. “Otherwise I might have to kill you to stop you from revealing my true identity to the authorities,” which made her giggle again.

  With the subject matter adroitly sidestepped the evening passed quickly. She talked about seemingly anything and everything over their evening meal. What she liked and didn’t like, her younger days at University, and the fact she had yet to find a settled job and moved from one employer to another.

  Matt listened attentively chipping in with the odd question to help her story along, not that she needed much prompting, and the banter between them took on a life of its own as the evening progressed. He ordered a second bottle of Canadian red wine, without even bothering to consider how much it cost.

  The curious thing was that he found himself being drawn into her life and various escapades, no matter how mundane. For the first time in his life he bothered to delve beyond the superficial, take an active interest in someone else’s existence, their life and their individual views and feelings about the world.

  Whilst it was impossible to ignore Rosa’s beauty, for she was truly beautiful, Matt found himself totally engaged. In addition to her warm personality there were the mannerisms and little quirks, such as the way she would frequently rub her nose for no apparent reason. And it made the evening all the more relaxing and enjoyable, helping him to briefly forget about his immediate worries.

  The sky had darkened. Matt shared out the remnants of the bottle of wine and looked over to her. The lights of the restaurant burnt brightly amidst the gloom, lighting up Rosa’s perfectly formed face. Artificial rays of light shone on her big blue eyes, her small pert nose and thick and luscious lips. She had propped her little head upon her right wrist and looked into Matt’s steady gaze, poised to begin her full interrogation.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  Matt cocked his head to one side.

  “I cannot lie, thirty years almost to the day,” he replied directly. At least that part of his story was true. “And you?”

  “You have to guess!” she said jokingly.

  Matt smiled back at her, intrigued by the slightly emerging laughter lines around the outside of her eyes. He’d always considered it odd how people noticed the fine detail in the faces of the people they liked. He tucked his right elbow into the palm of his left hand and slowly stroked his chin with the other.

  “This could take some time,” he said. “There’s so much to consider.”

  She pretended to be shocked at this discourtesy and wafted her hand in front of his face in a playful clip across his nose.

  “You wicked, wicked man,” she yelped.

  For the first time since they had met Rosa fell peculiarly silent, as if carefully studying Matt’s face, trying to memorise his every feature. The music system sounded, filling the night air with melodic entertainment for the customers.

  “I like this song, let’s dance,” she said, gripping his right hand and tugging it forward.

  He didn’t resist.

  They made their way into the small opening in the middle of the outdoor eating area, just outside the restaurant building, where a few couples were already dancing. Standing a few feet apart, her body started to move in rhythm with the music while Matt shuffled awkwardly from side to side. He never could dance and the next few minutes were a struggle. When the song ended he turned to make his way back to the table. Rosa clasped Matt’s hand and tugged him towards her, further encouraging him with another warm smile as he followed. She stepped up and put her arms around his neck, then rested her head onto his shoulder to move a little nearer.

  The song was over half way through when she nudged her body even closer into Matt‘s firm hold and, no matter how he tried, couldn’t prevent his body reacting to her intimacy. He was sure Rosa could feel his arousal and, uncomfortably, he raised his arms behind his neck and gently separated her grip from around him. He took a small backward step. In a normal environment, Mike Daniels would never have reacted this way. Matt Durham’s existence however, was anything but normal.

  “Perhaps we should sit down,” he said.

  “No,” she smiled gently. “I won’t let you. These are the moments in life people should live for.”

  Rosa stepped back up to Matt, placed her arms around his neck and pressed her body into his. Lifting her head she raised her mouth and, as he bent forward, kissed him softly on the lips. Her head snuggled into his neck, surrendering her petite frame to his hold. They moved together, like tall flowers in an open field swaying in a light breeze. The people dancing around might as well have been a hundred miles away for all the notice they took of their surroundings.

  Matt pecked the top of her head. When she looked up he kissed her lightly on the forehead, then her eyelids before moving to the tip of her small nose. Their mouths met. It was an inviting kiss. The affectionate embrace subdued Matt’s initial ardour helping him to relax, content to just enjoy the intimate moment.

  Or so he thought. The inner voice inside his head increased in volume, grew louder by the second. How could a woman as stunning as Rosa possibly be attracted to a technology nerd? Matt lifted his lips from hers.

  “What on earth does a beauty queen see in a computer geek?” he asked.

  She smiled. Using her arms around Matt’s neck for gentle leverage, Rosa raised her body up onto her tiptoes to put her lips to Matt’s ear and whisper.

  “Life’s just full of surprises.”

  Her words shot through into his brain like a thunderbolt. His mind raced backwards in time, like a howling gale roaring backwards through a long dark tunnel. The sensation took him back to the day before, back to Kielder … and the lodge. Those were the exact same words the woman in the cabin had used!

  Surely the phrase was nothing more than a coincidence, no more than a freakish occurrence. His powers of reasoning went into overdrive. He had got out of the UK in no time with a new name and a false passport. What were the chances of that, given what happened to Amy? Yet coincidence was the only plausible explanation.


  Rosa felt his body tense and instinctively released her grip around his neck.

  “Matt, are you alright?” she said, a look of concern on her face.

  She scrutinised his worried frown, trying to follow every thought pattern.

  “It can’t be her,” yelled the voice inside his head. “It can’t!”

  But he knew he dare not take the chance.

  “I have to go,” he said. “We’ll take a taxi to the hotels.”

  “Matt! Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I have to go,” he repeated.

  Rosa tried hard to understand his sudden coldness towards her, but the quiet determination she had identified in him earlier had turned into a steely resolve. He wasn’t going to change his mind.

  “I’ll get my bag,” she seethed.

  Nothing was said as they made their way to the taxi stand. The silence continued during the drive back to the hotels. They sat at opposite ends of the back seat with Rosa looking out of the side window now, seemingly, totally disinterested in Matt. His eyes darted towards her and he let his hand drop onto the seat, in an effort to make some sort of conciliatory gesture. She blinked to acknowledge his hand was there, and simply chose to ignore it.

  He couldn’t blame her. In a normal situation his behaviour would be inexcusable. Rosa wasn’t to know Matt’s situation was far from normal. He couldn’t tell her the truth about his real circumstances.

  His mind searched for words to explain his actions. She had to understand how her sunny disposition had helped the light to pierce the dark clouds that had enveloped him, how she had offered him brief respite from inner despair. Yet the longer his tortured mind wrestled with the dilemma his own silence continued, and the divide between them grew ever stronger, ever more powerful.

  Matt shifted uncomfortably on the seat as the taxi neared Rosa’s hotel. The car pulled to the kerb and she immediately opened the door. Instinctively, Matt reached out his hand and gently touched her arm.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and she turned to face him.

  He leaned sideways and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her eyes looked sad and the warmth in her kiss had gone.

  “Goodbye, Matt Durham.”

  Rosa spun round and stepped out of the car. She went straight through the door into the hotel without glancing back, as she had done earlier in the day when they had first arrived. It was so final, so cold, like the last farewell when lovers break up. At no time had Matt sensed any darkness in Rosa. But he’d over-reacted, assumed the worst; all because of a simple phrase.

  He was beginning to understand what this new existence was all about, and that it was likely to be forever this way, full of caution over everyone he came into contact with here on in.

  “This is how my new life will be,” he concluded.

  A few minutes later the taxi pulled up at Matt’s hotel. Whilst settling the fare he glanced through the windscreen to see a saloon car parked a few yards ahead, on the opposite side of the road. Two men were sat idly in the front seats and his first reaction was to believe they must have, indeed, found him.

  Entering the hotel he could see through the reflection of the glass door the men in the car had not moved.

  He didn’t switch the room light on. Matt walked to the window and gently eased the curtain aside. The car remained in position. A rear window had been opened to let cigarette smoke escape into the evening air. The night was still and the moon shone brightly. He watched as the smoke lifted up towards the street light and then disappeared into the black sky. If there was ever a picture book image of a stakeout, then this was it. Had they really located him so quickly?

  Only a few short hours ago he’d convinced himself he had got clear of trouble. Now he was beginning to have doubts. Apart from the stewardesses on the plane, the taxi driver from the airport and the hotel receptionist, he had spoken to no-one since leaving the UK. He’d used cash to buy the clothes and kept conversation with the assistant to an absolute minimum. The waiter at the restaurant was ... a waiter. Then there was Rosa.

  From Newcastle airport to the lakeside at Toronto their paths had crossed uncommonly frequently. But these things do happen. He’d spotted her at Newcastle airport not the other way round, and they’d had the briefest of eye contact on the flight. It was only afterwards they had held any meaningful conversation, purely to share the cost of a taxi to downtown Toronto. They were staying in different hotels for heaven’s sake.

  Is it totally unreasonable to ask to join an acquaintance for dinner when there was a shortage of tables? Even then, he’d been very careful over the tales he’d told Rosa during the meal itself. And there was nothing unusual about a man and a woman being physically attracted to one another. Two single people, having dinner alone in a foreign country; mixed with a heady cocktail of wine, good food, music and conversation to propel the evening along. All perfectly normal and natural, until he’d spoiled it with his sudden change of mood.

  Matt considered ringing Rosa’s hotel to ask if he could be put through to her room, to at least give her some sort of explanation. His thoughts drifted back to the moment they had embraced each other on the dance floor and the warmth that had flowed between them. And that kiss.

  In a single, careless moment all had been forgotten and he’d allowed his guard to drop, left himself vulnerable to a pretty woman’s attentions. He realised it was time to stop thinking like Mike Daniels, the self-absorbed businessman, and start thinking like the fugitive Matt Durham.

  Much as he regretted, it was time to move. This was earlier than planned but he’d decided for the best. It was a quarter past twelve. Pressing the light stand switch, Matt retrieved the timetables from his inside pocket and started to study them closely. The next train was nine a.m. which he considered to be too late. The Greyhound bus was due to leave in forty five minutes. According to the timetable it would take an hour short of three days to get to Vancouver. Checking his wallet he counted out twelve hundred Canadian dollars. There was also some loose change in his pocket. He decided there was enough. If he acted now he could make it in time.

  He hurriedly packed away his belongings before returning to the window. The car hadn’t moved, neither had the people inside. Their reason for being there had probably nothing to do with him, though he knew he couldn’t take the chance.

  If it was him they were after any move would likely happen once Matt had turned the light off, signalling that he’d gone to bed. The light would have to stay on he decided. He counted out two hundred and fifty dollars and left them on the bed, underneath the room keys, hoping this would cover the bill.

  Picking the case up he eased the door open, looking both ways to check the floor was devoid of people. The stairs were about thirty feet away. He tiptoed across, and then down the stairs, checking the shadows for any sign of movement.

  Minutes later he reached ground and breezed towards the rear exit of the hotel, carefully avoiding the night porter. The door lay ahead. He pushed it open and peered out into the pitch blackness of the night, save for the small light to the left of the exit. He looked at his watch; the minute hand had edged towards half past twelve.

  “Shit,” he cursed.

  This was not the time to be left stranded in Toronto, the proverbial sitting duck if they had found him. He tightened his grip on the case, took a deep breath and stepped anxiously out into the night.

  Matt could feel the blood in his veins pumping ever quicker through his body and his heart beat faster. At first he stood motionless and listened for the slightest sound of activity, breathing in every smell wafting through the back alley. The lights of the street he needed to be on were straight ahead. He counted to three.

  “Here goes,” he mumbled.

  To his left came the sudden sound of an empty can falling onto the hard, concrete floor and his body tensed. His eyes refused to look along from where the sound had come … but he must … he must … he told himself, and he forced his head to turn sideways.

  A tr
amp emerged from the darkness. He couldn’t make out whether the shape was male or female as it rummaged through the waste, looking for whatever it was that tramps looked for in other people’s garbage.

  Then, Matt felt gentle pressure being applied against his lower left leg making him jump with surprise.

  “Jesus!”

  The meow of the black and white cat was sharp and piercing, failing to disturb the scavenging form. As the animal pressed itself against him again he shook his leg energetically and the cat ran off towards the tramp, its cries echoing through the darkness. He exhaled in relief. A couple of blocks left for him to cover.

  Feeling the beat of his heart return to normality he set off for the bus station, moving swiftly forward through the dark alley to make up time, and entered the brightly lit main streets.

  There were few cars on the road, mostly taxis speeding by as he hurried along. Surprisingly, no pedestrians crossed his path until he arrived at the terminal itself and bought a ticket.

  As the bus pulled away Matt slumped into one of the empty window seats near the back, the case by his side. He’d made it. Fatigue threatened to force his eyes shut. He knew he had to resist the urge to succumb to an enforced sleep, at least until they had safely negotiated the outskirts of the city.

  A young girl, with long black hair and tight fitting jeans, attempted to squeeze a rucksack into the rack above her head. With one knee rested on the bus seat, the other slim leg was braced firmly against the floor. A quick hop and shove and the sack fell into place.

  Sensing she was being observed the girl turned her head towards Matt. The narrow eyes of her oriental face brightened, and she offered up a welcoming smile. He acknowledged her friendliness with a short nod of his head and a wisp of a grin. Almost as quickly he moved back behind the seat.

  He wasn’t going down that path again.

  Running the fingers of both hands through his hair, he allowed his head to sink back against the seat and his thoughts drifted back towards Rosa. Matt realised he’d been stupid to have ever got himself into that position to start with. Still, he was only a trainee fugitive, his mind reasoned; not yet a fully fledged, hardened escapee.

  Even so, he had treated her unkindly. Her final coldness was understandable. Matt had allowed himself to be seduced by Rosa’s attentions and then, after all the foreplay, he’d abruptly slammed the door in her face. Was she one of them?

  No, he decided. More likely, she was just another airhead blonde with too much time and money on her hands.

  Chapter Eight

  The Greyhound Run