Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1)

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Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1) Page 25

by Lewis Hastings


  Now a superintendent, Tom Jackson was the only work-related friend Cade felt he had left. He hoped and prayed that Jackson would listen to him and understand why he needed to leave the force; above all he needed an act of kindness, understanding and rational support.

  He walked into his office at D Division DHQ, closed the door behind him and started talking.

  After five minutes Jackson picked up his phone and dialled his executive assistant and in his broad Nottinghamshire accent said, “Make sure I am not disturbed Louise and bring us two strong cups of coffee, bugger it, bring the biscuits too.”

  He looked at Cade and shook his head.

  “I don’t think you are telling me the whole story here old son.”

  He wasn’t, but fifteen minutes later he had.

  The superintendent got up and walked around the office. His knuckles were whitening slowly.

  “This is not good Jack, not good at all, Christ, as if we haven’t got enough enemies out on the streets. Did Penny get home OK? Are you OK? Bollocks, can you imagine this getting into the papers.”

  Cade said nothing for a few moments. Jackson allowed him the moment he needed to compose himself.

  “I’ll have that bastard Cooke by the throat when I see him” Jackson almost spat out the words, clearly angrier than Cade who had spent the previous twenty-four hours trying to vent, to allow the venom to escape.

  “Join the queue boss, thanks, but no thanks, you have a Division to run and I somehow need to start again. I’m not entirely sure where, perhaps another force, I may even leave altogether and certainly whatever I do it’s as a single man. Believe me, I ran almost every possible scenario through my head last night, from murder to arson, with that callous bastard tied naked to a chair in the middle of the fire and slowly burning to death whilst that fucking slut of a wife sat next to him…”

  “Very sad Jack, a real pity, she’s a cracker that one, there’s not a man in this station that wouldn’t want to…”

  He stopped himself, like a freight train trying to avoid a pram.

  “Jack…”

  “It’s OK boss, I understand, you meant nothing by it. It’s OK, really. Help yourself.”

  Jackson removed his anthracite-coloured French Connection glasses and placed them on his desk.

  He looked Cade in the eye. “Jack, you’ve been let down by the very people you love and trust, let me see what I can do to get you back on the road to recovery. I need to make a few calls. Grab a couple of sick days – we owe you that at least and stay in touch. Leave Cooke to me, his day will come. Meanwhile, talk to no-one, and I mean no-one. And Jack…”

  “Sir?”

  “For the love of fucking Mary Jane do not burn his bloody house down. Take him to another force area and kill him by all means, I don’t need the crime stats at the moment!”

  Cade smiled a thin smile and agreed, “Noted Sir, give my regards to MJ.”

  Cade left his old boss nibbling on a biscuit and running his spare hand through what was left of his hair. He walked out into the rear courtyard got into his car and drove home.

  He turned the key in the front door, opened it and found his wife sat on the stairs. She looked exhausted, sober and yet slightly arrogant.

  He placed his wallet, phone and keys on the hallway table and walked into the kitchen, flicked the switch on the kettle and took a mug out of the cupboard next to the fridge.

  He heard her walk into the room as he finished making himself a strong cup of black coffee.

  After clearing her throat, she started talking first.

  “Jack, I…”

  He turned around, took a sip of the hot liquid and then wrapped his hands around the cup which provided a sense of comfort. When the heat was almost too much, he placed the cup down and ran his burning palms across his face, screwing them into his eyes. It felt good.

  He let out a long sigh and then began.

  “Penelope, gather your things together and prepare to leave. Take everything; I don’t want one single reminder of you in this house, nothing. You’ve got until the end of tomorrow. I’m going away for a couple of days, it matters not where, but when I get back, you will be gone. I hope it was worth it?”

  She started to cry.

  “Save that for the divorce hearing my love, I gave you a fair chance to walk away but you let your whore-like nature win in the battle of head over heart. If I were you, I’d get booked into the local clinic too, that lot have probably got more STDs than a Hyson Green hooker. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got my coffee to finish. It’s hot, wet and steamy. Like Grant Cooke prefers his women.”

  He knew it was petty, but it felt bloody good.

  She started to talk but Cade held up his hand in protest.

  “Seriously Penny, the clock is ticking; I’ve started my life from scratch as of today. You need to as well. If you need a room, you could always swing by Sycamore Lodge, I hear they’ve got great facilities and the hosts are most willing to accommodate guests.”

  He walked out of the door, entered the ST and drove along the main A52 and an hour later entered the Peak District National Park.

  He pulled up onto the front of the iconic Izaak Walton Hotel, checked in and minutes later set out for a walk through the picturesque and breathtaking countryside that surrounded nearby Dovedale.

  He revisited a childhood memory by navigating across the River Dove, using a set of slippery stepping stones to get from one side of the river to the other. He then walked through the wooded ravine and upwards, climbing steadily until he reached the top of a thousand-foot-high limestone hill known locally as Thorpe Cloud.

  Once at the summit he paused, took an extended deep breath, the crisp, clean air filled every fibre of his lungs. He turned slowly, taking in the entire vista until he had returned to his starting point.

  It was one of his favourite views and whilst he stared out onto the horizon; he wasn’t sure where his life would head, but he knew that it would now travel in a new direction, one without her, the rampant, selfish bitch, and one which might eventually find him happiness.

  He sat down on a rough, blustery outcrop. As the wind whistled around him, antagonising him like an unseen spectre he started to plan the rest of his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  His phone rang.

  He ignored it. Whoever it was would wait and if it was that important, they’d ring back.

  Later when he got back down to the hotel, he entered the bar and selected a ten-year-old Macallan from the top shelf. He added a hint of water allowing his skilled palate to detect clearly the Bourbon casks that gave it its light flavour; hints of heather honey combined with dried fruit and walnut to provide him with a welcome and warming end to the best of days.

  He found a chair by the window and whilst looking out onto the rugged green hillside opened his phone and dialled into the voicemail service.

  “Jack, Tom Jackson, I don’t need an answer now but how do you fancy setting up a new team at East Midlands Airport? It’s an idea that’s been floated by the joint chief constables, including ours, Leicestershire and Derbyshire. They think the airport with its rapid growth and comparative easy access is now a risk entry point for organised criminals. As luck would have it, I was on a phone conference this morning and the chiefs were canvassing for a good man to run the intelligence team. Naturally I put your name forward. There’s no nepotism here, but the job is yours if you want it. Give it some thought and get back to me. Cheers.”

  He closed his phone and mused upon the idea as he sipped the liquid amber, savouring each mouthful, combining each burst of flavour with a new thought. He was almost at decision point but decided to have another, if nothing else it would help to erase all thoughts of his shattered marriage.

  He approached the bar and met the radiant Elizabeth once more.

  “I see you wear many hats,” he said without an agenda, although she was delightful to look at; probably mid-twenties, nearly six-foot, smoke-grey eyes and incredible
silky blonde hair which was tied neatly into a ponytail.

  Cade soon found himself captivated by her and as he was the only customer asked if she minded if he sat at the bar.

  Whether she was exhibiting the virtues of a perfect hospitality worker or just happened to feel relaxed around him Cade would never know. At that very moment he found her enigmatic smile, attentive manner and her warmth to be a refreshing change and that was all he needed to begin the road to restoration.

  “Can I buy you a drink – I have no agenda, none at all, I’m just trying to be pleasant.”

  She replied, “Of course, that would be marvellous, to be honest with you I could do with one, it’s been a hellish long day so it has.”

  Her voice washed over him, replacing the scotch with an altogether more beneficial result.

  She selected a glass of cool, crisp pinot gris, it was a New Zealand vineyard that Cade recognised instantly. He’d travelled there a few years before and had grown to love the place, if nothing else it was a chance to extend the conversation.

  Both Cade and the vivacious Elizabeth were most comfortable with each other and a casual observer would have been easily fooled into thinking he was trying to seduce her; nothing could have been further from the truth.

  She could have laid her admittedly taut body on a pristine sheepskin rug in front of a roaring pine cone fire, in a cabin deep in the woods and he would have simply, but respectfully declined; perhaps another day?

  “So, Mr Cade do you know New Zealand well?”

  “You are very observant, Miss?”

  “And you don’t need to know!” she replied quickly but with that mischievous smile.

  He felt like a cave diver – entering a dark void, knowing that to do would increase his risk, but somehow unable to back away.

  “Touché, I shall retire hurt to my seconds and allow them to stitch up my wounds…” He feigned a hurt Labrador puppy face.

  “No, no, I was joking honestly I was.”

  “And me too, I must apologise, it’s the nature of the job.” He replied casually but with an olive branch attached.

  “So, what do you do? Let me guess?”

  “After you my lady, you have three guesses and the winner gets to choose the prize.”

  She was visibly excited and even more attractive, “Oh dear God I love games!” She clapped her hands together, a sweet little girl in the body of a vixen.

  “OK, guess one,” asked Cade, now enjoying the moment, they were still alone and as the evening was progressing, it looked likely that he might be her only customer.

  “OK, OK…er I know, you are a secret agent so you are!”

  “No.”

  “But you’d have to kill me if I was right, right?”

  “I would but I’d do it really slowly…” he was flirting now.

  “I bet. OK, guess two, a heart surgeon, you have nice hands and inquisitive eyes.”

  “Better that than the other way around,” he replied with a wink.

  She laughed with real vigour and replied, “Hell, you’re a very naughty man Mr Cade,” before leaning across the bar and punching him playfully on the arm.

  “Please, call me Jack.”

  “If that’s OK I will, Jack Cade, interesting name, very famous in British history you know?”

  “I didn’t.”

  He did.

  “Oh yes, he was a real rebel, Shakespeare wrote all about him, I learned about him at uni, but that was a few years ago now. Are you a real rebel Mr Cade?”

  He brushed the question to one side, “Come now, it can’t have been that long ago that you were at university?”

  “I’m twenty-six and not a day younger – and you?”

  “Twenty-eight and feel many, many days older.”

  They chinked their glasses together and carried on chatting about Cade’s day, how he had revisited a boyhood dream and climbed the famous peak.

  She looked at him squarely in the eye, “Tell me, did you walk it, or run?”

  “I walked it, only a fool would run it, or someone incredibly fit.”

  “Then for sure I’m a fool Mr Cade or, in your words, incredibly fit.”

  It was her turn to wink, and now she was flirting. Her skin flushed as her hungry eyes held his gaze for just long enough to create a connection.

  They continued chatting about random things, where she was born, how she came to be in Derbyshire, in the middle of nowhere in an old English country hotel and all the while somehow Cade managed to avoid the third question.

  Eleven o’clock came all too soon and sticking firmly to the rules Elizabeth Delany placed a damp towel over the beer tap handle, rang a little brass bell which seemed to toll forever, and finally reduced the light in the bar to a bare minimum.

  With that enigmatic smile she announced that the evening had come to an end. Cade drained the last of his Macallan and handed her the glass.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth, you have helped restore my faith in humankind today. Whatever your hopes and dreams are I trust they will all come true.”

  He placed his hand across the bar. She leant on the bar and placed her hand into his. Her handshake was firm and warm.

  “And you Jack and you. It’s been a pleasure, who knows perhaps one day we’ll meet down under? Goodnight, safe travels, sláinte!”

  With that she raised her own glass and emptied it before walking behind the bar, turning on the glass washer and switching off the lights.

  A few more patrons were arriving back into the lobby, tired from a day’s walking on the nearby hills. Delany conducted herself with the same easy charm that had captivated Cade as she ensured they had all they needed and then locked the main door and switched the answerphone on. It was a nightly ritual regardless of occupancy.

  She made one last sweep around the lower floor and headed upstairs to her own room before another early start, where once more she would rise with the lark and attend to the guests. It was as if she was the only staff member, she certainly did the work of three people and for half their wages, but she got to meet interesting people and the sanctuary that the place provided was both timely and much-needed.

  She opened her bedroom door, removed her clothes and slipped into an oversized shirt. The cotton felt cool against her skin. She cleaned her teeth and walked towards her bed. As she sat on the edge, she realised that she hadn’t asked the third question. That bloody good-looking Cade had got away with it.

  “I bet he’s a spy!” She laughed at herself before getting into bed and pulling the duvet up and over her face. It had been a long day.

  Ten minutes later she was still wide awake.

  “Damn it, I need to know. I can’t sleep unless I know.”

  Breaking the hotel rules and her own strict code she quietly left her room and walked along the corridor towards Room 8.

  Cade was sat in his room, it wasn’t entirely to his taste, but it was in keeping with the period features of the hotel. He was looking out of the window and across the valley. The moon was impressive; clear, bright and doing a remarkable job of illuminating the surrounding countryside. Despite his solitude he didn’t feel lonely.

  He stared at the rolling hills and began to wonder what Penny was doing. He hated himself for thinking about her, but it was intensely difficult to rid his mind of her image and their marriage. He hoped she was as miserable as he was.

  He thought he heard a gentle tap at the door.

  Penny evaporated from his mind as he concentrated on his surroundings. He heard it again. He walked quickly into the en suite and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before approaching the door.

  Unlike most modern hotels the door didn’t have a spy hole, so he opened it revealing Elizabeth Delany in an old-fashioned but all-too-sexy cornflower blue nightshirt. Her blonde hair was down now and cascaded like a waterfall over the material and across her milky-white shoulders until it reached the midway point of her back.

  He was momentarily unable to speak, so she start
ed the conversation in a whisper.

  “Hello Jack, look this is not something I would normally do, trust me on this. But I got into bed and I couldn’t switch off.”

  “So, is this your third guess Elizabeth? You think I’m an electrician?”

  She giggled, trying desperately to restrain her laughter, feeling suddenly like a mischievous pupil on a summer vacation, discovering the perils and delights of boys for the very first time.

  “No silly, I can’t switch my mind off. You never allowed me the third guess. So, can I?”

  “Can you what?”

  “Can I bloody guess man?” she hissed, “For the love of God you are not making this easy, so you aren’t.”

  He stepped into the doorway.

  “Look, do you want to come in, you look incredibly suspicious stood there; however, looking like that it’s fair to say that you would also raise the overall rating of the hotel, but you might just get sacked too! I’ll get some clothes on, come in.”

  She paused; this was completely against everything she had ever stood for but she felt safe in his company. He’d been the perfect gent, but perversely, she felt like the filthiest, most immoral woman alive.

  She walked into his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her before speaking.

  “Jack, I, look I don’t know what to say…” her voice was very slightly quivering, a mixture of nerves and apprehension.

  He walked towards her, knowing that somehow it was wrong, placed his arms out in front of him and said, “Then don’t say another word.”

  The moonlight sent shafts of clear light through the Georgian window frame; the curtains were wide open, allowing the lunar radiance to pick out the finer detail in the inviting bedroom.

  Elizabeth Delany was true to her word, this wasn’t normal behaviour for her, but as she pulled Cade’s towel from his toned body, she was already pleased about her decision. It dropped to the floor with a dull thump. Cade was already undoing her shirt, button by button until she was able to pull it over her head revealing herself to him.

 

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