Touchstone Season One- Complete Box Set

by Andy Conway

  “Are you going to arrest me too?” said Percy. “Why don’t you lock us all up?”

  “I am wondering what kind of English name is Shurmer.”

  “We can’t trust them,” said Mary.

  “Disgusting, isn’t it, Mary? An invasion committee to protect our island nation, and you and I are the only true Brits. The country is riddled with aliens. Who’s going to protect Great Britain – this precious stone set in the silver sea, hmm?”

  “We need to cleanse it of foreign nationals,” said Mary, “or we’ll end up a mongrel nation.”

  “Listen to the pair of you,” Percy cried. “You sound just like Hitler!”

  “Do you even know this island nation’s history?” said Rachel quietly.

  They all turned to her. She looked up from her lap.

  “We’re all immigrants.”

  Mary snorted. “What a lot of rot.”

  “It’s true. The Welsh are the only natives. This was their island. The Romans invaded, with a regiment of Moors, by the way, who stayed and mingled with the natives. That means Africans were native here before the English. Those Anglo-Saxon tribes, the English, invaded later once the Romans had gone—from Germany, mind – and they pushed the Celtic natives out to the edges; to Wales, to Cornwall and across the channel to Brittany.”

  She thought she was stammering now, her voice shrinking, trying to hold it together, like speaking out in class, aware that her fellow students were bored or hostile, but pushing through with what she had to say.

  “Then the Vikings invaded and changed the north, then the Normans invaded from France and took over the south. There were Africans living here while Shakespeare was writing those words you quoted. Their slave descendents from the Caribbean are fighting this war with us. Jews came here a thousand years ago, not yesterday. That’s your England. It’s always been a mongrel nation, like America. We just did it over two thousand years instead of two hundred.”

  Percy Shurmer clapped his hands. “Now that’s a history lesson you won’t find in the Daily Mail.”

  Clifford glared at her with a look of pure hate, for just a moment, then he put on a fake smile. “Very interesting, Miss Bond. I don’t know where you get your fairytales from, but—”

  “I get it from history books,” she said.

  Percy stood up. “I think this farce of a meeting is over. So let’s get down to business. Show us to Charlie’s cell and let him out so we can get back to fighting this war, instead of your private little power struggle.”

  Clifford chuckled. “Very well. We might all see the suspects. Let’s see what the spies have to say for themselves.”

  He rose, leaving Rachel’s Nokia phone on his desk and marched to the door. They followed. The station seemed to be empty. Only Sergeant Webster at the desk and Constable Davies, still sitting sullen and silent, although he was now writing an arrest report.

  They filed down a long corridor through to the cells. Charlie and Danny sat in one cell. Amy Parker was in the cell opposite.

  “Right,” said Percy. “Get him out of there. As a councillor, I have the right to meet with my constituent.”

  “Shut up, Shurmer,” Clifford said. “You have no rights at all. You’re just a jumped up local councillor. National security overrides your petty democracy, and may I remind you that you have been recruited into the Secret Intelligence Service. That makes you a soldier in the army. Under my command. So any more insubordination from you and I’ll have you in that cell with him.”

  “Well, go and do it then, you stupid oaf,” Percy laughed. “Make a complete berk of yourself, why don’t you?”

  “Clifford,” said Charlie, through the bars of the cell. “You do know the S.I.S are going to come down very hard on you for this?”

  Clifford didn’t answer, because at that moment the air raid siren began to wail.

  — 37 —

  CLIFFORD FROZE, AS if he was waiting for the siren to stop. Boots echoed up the corridor with a confident stride. Constable Davies came round the corner and stopped dead, surprised to see so many people there.

  “We have to clear the station, sir,” he said. “Er... that includes everyone in the cells.”

  “No one’s going anywhere,” said Clifford. “Not just yet.”

  “Clifford, this station is going to be bombed tonight,” Charlie cried. “It’s on a list of targets. We have to get out.

  “Yes, and it’s curious just how you know that. It would be an interesting experiment to put to the test.”

  “Chief Inspector Lees?” said Constable Davies.

  “Be a good chap, Davies, and step outside. Wait in my car. I’ll need you in a moment.”

  “But the prisoners, sir?”

  “Yes, I’ll see to them.”

  Davies stood rooted, his eyes sweeping the scene. Then he nodded, took one last look at Amy, and stalked out.

  Danny rose up from the bench were he’d been slumped as if asleep. He came to the cell door and clutched the bars. “Wait a minute. Clifford Lees? Chief Inspector? I know that. It’s you. You’re the spy.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I read about it.” Danny looked at Rachel now, as if the others couldn’t hear. “Library research. A news story. The Nazi spy arrested during the Blitz.”

  “What’s he talking about?” said Clifford.

  “You’re a Nazi,” said Danny, rattling the bars of his cell, laughing.

  “Don’t be impertinent,” cried Mary Lewis. “That’s a police inspector you’re talking to.”

  “You were a member of Oswald Mosley’s lot in the thirties.”

  Clifford quailed, his eyes darting around the room, a cornered rat. He drew his pistol and pointed it at Danny.

  “Shut up, or by God I’ll shoot you right here.”

  “The British Union of Fascists?” said Jimmy.

  “That’s the one,” said Danny. “Secret member, working for Hitler during the war. They’re going to hang you for treason.”

  Jimmy rounded on Clifford now. “Were you in that lot we beat up in ’34?”

  “That was you, was it? I might have known.”

  A collective gasp. Even the air raid siren seemed to cut out for a moment.

  Clifford realized what had slipped out. Eyes bulging with fury, he shoved the gun in Jimmy’s face. Jimmy backed off, hands in the air.

  Steps came echoing up the corridor. Clifford backed himself to the wall where he could cover them all, including anyone who approached from the station.

  Two men bowled in, a police sergeant and an ARP warden.

  “Why aren’t these prisoners being evac–”

  Sergeant Webster froze and Reg stumbled into him. They gawped at Chief Inspector Lees pointing his pistol at them all.

  “What the bloody hell?” Reg stammered.

  “Sergeant Webster, you’re just in time,” Clifford barked. A film of sweat glistened on his forehead. “Open that cell there.”

  He nodded to the cell where Charlie and Danny stood pressed against the bars.

  “No. That one.”

  He indicated Amy’s cell, and Rachel realized he was avoiding the possibility of Charlie and Danny breaking out as soon as the cell was unlocked. He was going to lock them all up and let the Germans do his dirty work.

  “Sir,” said Webster. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re one of them,” said Mary Lewis.

  “That’s right,” Clifford snarled. “I was a member of the B.U.F. I was a blackshirt. I’ve never left that cause.”

  “How the hell did we not know that?” Charlie muttered.

  “Your intelligence service is riddled with our people. And with bloody Bolsheviks too. That’s where the real war is being fought.”

  “You dirty dog,” said Percy.

  “I won’t be taking insults from a red traitor like you, Shurmer.”

  “You’re the bloody traitor,” Percy snapped. “Selling our country out to Hitler.”

  “You’re one of them,”
said Mary Lewis again, as if it was a very difficult sum she couldn’t quite get her head around.

  “I’m very sorry about this, Mary,” Clifford said. “You might actually have been useful to us. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to die with the rest of them.”

  “You can’t shoot us all,” said Charlie. “You don’t have enough bullets.”

  “No, but three of you are behind bars. I only have to shoot the other six. Leave the bombs to do the rest. Is that enough bullets, Charlie?”

  “You’ll never get away with this!” Percy growled.

  “Oh, but I will. That list in my pocket says this station is bombed tonight. I don’t know how the hell our prisoner knows that, but every other incident on the list is accurate, so I’m going to leave you all here nicely locked up and watch from the street corner, just to make sure you’re all disposed of when the All Clear sounds.”

  “You can’t do this, sir,” said Sergeant Webster.

  “The only decision you have to make is whether you all go politely into that cell there, or I shoot the six of you right now. I’m sure your friends would love to watch that.”

  Sergeant Webster edged forward, unbuttoning the holster at his hip. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to give me that weapon.”

  “Stand back, Webster. That’s an order!”

  “Sir, please.” Webster took out his pistol.

  A great bang echoed through the station. They all cowered. Sergeant Webster fell in a heap, his pistol clattering to the floor at Rachel’s feet.

  Her ears ringing.

  “Now, Mary. Stop blubbering and take that key off Sergeant Webster’s belt, and open that cell there.

  Mary Lewis looked around at the others, as if seeking permission.

  “I have five bullets left and I will use every one of them if I have to.”

  Rachel looked down at her feet, the barrel of Sergeant Webster’s pistol touching her toe.

  “Best do as he says, Mary,” Charlie said, his voice heavy with defeat.

  Mary Lewis bent down, grunting with the effort, fumbling with the keys at the dead sergeant’s belt.

  Clifford watched her intently, his pistol swaying in the air.

  Rachel snatched up Sergeant Webster’s gun. Its weight surprised her. She could barely hold it straight. She wasn’t sure she would be able to pull the trigger.

  “Rachel, no!” Charlie cried.

  She could see right up the barrel of Clifford’s gun. She looked away, her eyes finding Charlie. Let him be the last thing she ever saw, not Clifford, she thought.

  “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she said.

  Clifford laughed. “Put that down, you stupid little bitch.”

  The room exploded. She dropped the gun.

  When she opened her eyes, Chief Inspector Clifford Lees was lying on the floor with a red hole in his face.

  — 38 —

  HER EARS RANG, A PERSISTENT whining that overwhelmed everything. They were all shouting but she couldn’t hear a word, couldn’t even hear the air raid siren anymore.

  Jimmy picked up the keys and unlocked both cells. Amy stumbled out. Danny went to her but she pushed him away. Charlie rushed to Rachel and pulled her into an embrace, his muffled voice shouting in her ear. She was underwater.

  She had killed someone. She had taken a life.

  But it hadn’t been who she’d thought.

  Clifford lay on the floor gazing at the ceiling, a pool of scarlet spreading out under his head like a crimson pillow.

  Charlie held her at arms’ length and she emerged from underwater, the sound of chaos breaking in on her. Mary Lewis and Amy were weeping. Percy was shouting instructions. Jimmy was pushing Danny back and yelling at him. Reg was screaming that they had to get out.

  Charlie’s voice was the one stable thing at the centre of it all, the rest of it fading to a blur.

  “You did the right thing. We’d all be dead now if it wasn’t for you. Sometimes you have to take a life in order to save lives. That’s why we’re fighting this war.”

  She nodded. Wasn’t that the whole point of war – our people killing as many of their people as possible? Everyone in this war was a killer.

  Charlie shouted, “Everyone be quiet!”

  They stopped and turned to him. Only the siren wailed on.

  “This is all Top Secret. Not a word of this to anyone. Amy, Reg, you’re not bound by the Official Secrets Act, as everyone here is. But I have to tell you that you can never reveal what happened here tonight.”

  “I saw a Nazi spy get shot,” said Reg.

  “But you can never say that.”

  “They’re going to find out, sir.”

  “No. No one’s going to find out. We’re all going to walk out of here and leave these two bodies. The station is going to be hit tonight. We have intelligence on that. They will both be unfortunate casualties of war. Amy, I need your cooperation.”

  Amy nodded. “Just let me home to my daughter.”

  “Can we get out of here now, please?” said Danny.

  “Not yet,” said Charlie. “There’s one more problem. Constable Davies is waiting outside.”

  Charlie went to Rachel and murmured, “You told me not to trust him.”

  “Did I?” she said, flustered.

  “It’s in your notes to me. A list of dates and times, and Don’t trust Davies.”

  “I didn’t say why?”

  He shook his head, turned to the rest and said, “I have a plan.”

  — 39 —

  THEY STRODE OUT OF the police station, Danny with his hands cuffed behind his back, Charlie with Clifford’s pistol, Reg and Rachel following behind.

  The siren wailed over Moseley, and just under it Rachel could hear the distant drone of bombers. Soon, one of them would be right overhead and a bomb would fall that would tear this street apart. Perhaps it was falling right this moment.

  They rushed over to the waiting staff car. Constable Davies stepped out, alarm written all over his face. His eyes fell on the others rushing out of the station: Percy, Jimmy and Mary, walking swiftly up the street with Amy Parker.

  “What’s going on?” said Davies.

  “Everything’s in hand,” said Charlie. “We’ve established that the prisoner here is still a suspect. Miss Parker and I are free to go.”

  Davies gazed at the station entrance.

  “Chief Inspector Lees and Sergeant Webster are tying up the loose ends. We’re to evacuate this prisoner to the shelter, immediately.”

  Davies thought it over, barely buying it. He looked up the street at Amy Parker rushing home.

  “So Miss Parker’s not a spy?”

  “Not at all,” said Charlie. “Load of nonsense. Just this fellah here.”

  “And you’re not a spy either?”

  Reg laughed out loud. “The idea!”

  “Now, we have to go. Quickly. The Chief Inspector will explain it all to you later, I’m sure.”

  Davies stood rooted to the spot, working it out. He was calculating the odds. None of it made sense, but Rachel could see the one thing that mattered to him was Amy walking free.

  He nodded and turned to the car.

  They breathed again and followed him, piling into the rear seats. Reg held Danny’s head down and shoved him in. Davies took a look at them in the rear view mirror and then pulled out.

  He didn’t believe it, Rachel knew. But there was something else; something he wasn’t letting on. It suited him to believe this story for the moment. Was it just Amy Parker – he was in love with her and would swallow any lie as long as she was freed?

  No, something else. Don’t trust Davies, she’d written.

  “I’ll drive up Woodbridge and circle round,” he called back. “We’re facing that way.”

  The difficulty of making a three-point turn in the road. Each second they were there she thought the bomb would fall.

  Danny shuffled next to her, groaning in discomfort, hands behind his back. She wanted to punch
him, scream at him for what he’d done to her, but he looked so pitiful, even in the bad light. He looked tired, pale and genuinely scared.

  He leaned closer to her and murmured so the others wouldn’t hear and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I understand. I’ve messed things up for you a bit.”

  “A bit? You wiped out my life. I have nothing now. Nothing.”

  Constable Davies keyed the ignition. It squealed and shuddered but would not start.

  Danny nodded, or his head slumped down in shame, she wasn’t sure which.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t let you kill her.”

  “I’m not going to kill her, Danny, you idiot.” She looked away so he wouldn’t read it in her face – that she’d thought it, even attempted it.

  The ignition juddered over but refused to start.

  “You tried to put a noose round both our necks,” said Danny. “But I’ll stop you; whatever it is you try to do to her.”

  Finally, the car purred into life and they sailed away from the police station.

  “Just shut up,” she said, clenching her fists to quell the rising fury that made her shake.

  They passed the entrance to Moseley train station. She couldn’t tell how Constable Davies could see anything in the darkness. It was like hurtling through a black tunnel.

  “Just so you know,” Danny said. And he giggled.

  Was he mad? Had something turned him crazy: the war or some effect of the touchstone? For the first time she feared him and thought him capable of harming her.

  She was thinking of a response when the bomb hit.

  — 40 —

  THE GROUND JOLTED BENEATH them and it felt like the car had jumped up into the air and choked. Her teeth rattled and her ears popped, and it felt going through the touchstone and how sometimes the sound disappeared and you thought you’d gone deaf. Someone flashed a bright light inside and she thought for a moment a truck or a train was about to hit them, but it was fire. The street behind them lit up like daylight. She twisted to see through the rear window. Angry flames roared down the street as if a giant ball of fire was rolling towards them.