Nurse Becky Gets Shot

by Gary Baker

  'Ooh, I'm glad you're here when I get home,' she said, her voice muffled. She pulled back her head, looked up at Roger. 'But what about your house? Shouldn't you check to see if everything is alright?'

  Roger pulled back from the hug. 'Yes,' he said. 'I'll go tomorrow.'

  'You won't be late back though, will you?'

  The concern in Becky's voice made Roger arch his eyebrows.

  'No. Why?'

  Becky pulled Roger towards her and buried her head in his chest so he could not see her face. 'I thought I'd make something nice for us to eat. As it's Friday.'

  'You're rubbish at that,' laughed Roger.

  'What do you mean?' Becky looked up at Roger once more, flushing attractively.

  'You're sick of pizza and you know that I've cleverly managed to burn the takeaway so you want to make sure you get a decent meal tomorrow evening.'

  Becky pushed her face into Roger's chest. 'Something like that,' she mumbled.

  *

  Roger and Becky ate the chewy, overcooked pizza in silence.

  'Look at us,' said Roger, 'like an old married couple.' There was something on Becky's mind. Or perhaps she's just tired.

  'It's me,' said Becky. 'It's been a bit of a hectic day at work.'

  'That's alright. I once got a lift when I was hitchhiking from Cape Town to Johannesburg – you couldn't do that anymore – anyway, I got a lift from a man in a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle. He said, something to the effect that,' Roger put on a thick South African accent, '“You know, some people just can't sit in silence, they always have to be yapping. Sitting not talking to you has been a real pleasure, my boy.” I was never sure how to take that.'

  Becky smiled. 'You've travelled then?'

  'A little.'

  'Is that how you met Harry's mother?'

  Roger was a little taken aback. 'What do you mean?' came out of his mouth while his mind readjusted to talking about Jennifer with Becky.

  'Nothing. I don't mean to pry but I understand Jennifer died. That must have been difficult.'

  A sledgehammer hit Roger's mind causing a familiar fracturing sensation. Roger was blank, dumbfounded. Roger B said, come on boy, snap out of it. Roger C, screamed in his mind, she knows, she's one of them. She's one of them!

  Roger swallowed hard. 'How did you know about Jennifer?' Don't give the game away you fool. Don't let her know you know she's one of them. 'I never - I don't recall mentioning Jennifer to you before.'

  'No?' Becky blushed realising she had made a mistake. Or was it a mistake? 'No. You're right. I've spoken to a friend of yours.'

  'Friend?' She's one of them! Don't believe her.

  'John.'

  'John?'

  'John Meadhill. You and him met in a support group after Jennifer died? You can talk about this can't you?'

  She's very good. She sounds genuine.

  Roger's face had frozen. Becky put down her knife and fork, leaned forward placing her hand on Roger's.

  'I was worried about you,' she said. 'For some reason that telephone number stuck in my mind.'

  'Telephone number?'

  It seemed to Roger that a huge distance had suddenly and violently come between them. He had star-burst, gone to warp speed, hyper-jumped light years away in the blink of an eye. This smoky shell, the tiny pupils, this ethereal facsimile of Roger was all that was left. Becky was frightened. The words tumbled from her, 'It was the title or subject or whatever of an email you'd left open on my computer and I was so worried about you. You haven't been in contact with any friends or family haven't even been home and I was worried you were bottling things up and I'm sorry but when I called John he seemed so nice and genuinely concerned about you and when I heard you'd been through this before when Jennifer died and how they'd pulled you out of it I didn't argue and now the surprise is gone which probably isn't such a bad thing really. I never was happy with springing that on you but we can pretend and I'm sure you'll have a good time and there is something which you will really like. I won't tell you that so there will still be a surprise … Roger?'

  'You called him? You called John Meadhill?' She was serious. She wasn't one of them. She was an innocent. A tidal bore of relief surged through Roger; Becky was genuine. Cling to that thought, said Roger B, while Meadhill puts a bullet through your head.

  Roger zoomed back, the ethereal became solid. He moved his hand from beneath Becky's and placed both his hands on top of hers. Looked deep into her eyes. My God, she's beautiful.

  'Ask me what's the square root of something.'

  'What?' Becky gave her head the tiniest of shakes.

  'Ask me what the cube root of something is.'

  'Why? … what?

  'Go on, ask me.'

  'Okay,' said Becky as if talking to a child, 'what's the cube root of one hundred?'

  'Four point six four one five eight eight blah blah. Yes!' Roger punched the air.

  'I don't understand.'

  Roger became stern again. 'You have to tell me everything, Becky,' he said with an earnestness that was almost comical in its severity. 'Did you tell Meadhill where you live?'

  'No.'

  'What is the surprise you mentioned?'

  'It's a surprise party, at a flying club. Teesside airport. I -'

  'Listen to me,' Roger interrupted, holding Becky's eyes with his own, daring her to blink. 'Meadhill is a very dangerous man. He belongs to an organised crime gang called The KOPALDA. He is a killer. They are the ones responsible for my son's death. They recruited me to do some of their dirty work for them.' Roger looked down. Ashamed. 'I was … turned. Becky, I've done some very bad things. I used to work for the government. I … I'm a cryptographer. A code breaker. But I did have problems. Harry's death pushed me over … I've not been well. Meadhill is a killer. You have to believe that. Tell me everything. Please.'

  A few short sentences had changed this man before her into an incomprehensible alien. Code breaker? But there was no doubting his tone.

  Becky told Roger about her conversation with Meadhill; the surprise birthday party at the Flight Club at Teesside airport, the flight in a Learjet, all Roger's friends would be there.

  'And you definitely didn't tell him where you live?' asked Roger when Becky had finished.

  'No, but he knows where I work.'

  Okay. This was serious. There was no way Roger could take on Meadhill and the rest of The KOPALDA without help. The police? Roger remembered the Captain bragging about how far The KOPALDA had infiltrated that establishment. The police would be no help. Which left Julia. Julia and her organisation. An organisation of code breaking stiffs, or so Roger had thought until she had turned up at Blackpool with an honest to goodness goon in tow. Roger knew he could still be very useful to Julia. There had to be certain guarantees though.

  *

  'Where are you, Roger?' where Julia's first words when he called her. This time he told her.

  'Darlington,' he said.

  'At home?'

  'No. With a friend.' He could hear the lower frequencies of men's voices in the background.

  'Oh. How are you getting on, Roger?'

  'I've been in hospital.'

  'Hospital? What happened?'

  'I … ' Why hesitate. If he wanted Julia's help he had to come clean. Dangle his returning savant gifts as bait. '… I was shot.' The line was very quiet. Too quiet. The quiet of a line when someone puts their hand over the receiver. 'But I'm okay. Just a bit sore. Nothing vital damaged. Are you there?'

  Roger heard the background noise come back down the line. There was a catch in Julia's voice. She sounded really concerned, trying hard to keep her voice level.

  'I'm glad to hear that, Roger.' She was back in full control. 'Now, what can I do for you?'

  All those years and it comes down to 'what can I do for you?'

  'Julia, I need your help. The KOPALDA, the people who I did some work for; one of their killers has found us.'

  'Us?'

  'Me. Found me, a
nd I'm afraid he's going to kill me.'

  'I don't think I can help you, Roger.'

  She's refusing to help me. After all that work. All those years.

  'I set some system traps and buggered about with their bank accounts.'

  'Yes,' said Julia. 'You were always very talented at that. But I'm afraid -'

  'I have something that you may be interested in, Julia.'

  'Roger, you must understand, the department -'

  'Ask me what's the square root of five thousand four hundred and thirty-two.'

  The line was quiet.

  'Ask me, Julia, go on'

  'You could have memorised it.'

  'Then test me. Ask me any number. Anything.'

  The line was quiet again. Roger felt Julia's belief swimming along the dark telephone lines towards him.

  It was impossible to fake so why pretend.

  'Stay where you are and we'll come and get you.'

  'No, wait,' said Roger. 'There's one more thing. You have to help me get rid of this Meadhill killer and close down The KOPALDA otherwise I'll never be free. I don't intend to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.' Roger went on to describe Becky's meeting with Meadhill and the plans to meet at the Flight Club at Teesside airport.

  'I will still have to test you,' said Julia after a brief pause.

  'Come now then,' said Roger. 'Test me tonight or tomorrow morning because tomorrow night is when I'll know where the lunatic Meadhill is.'

  'Very well,' agreed Julia. 'What's your number?'

  *

  Julia replaced the receiver very carefully and looked at the number she had just written on her pad. Roger's words swirled around her head liked a flock of disturbed starlings refusing to settle. It was the word 'us' that kept banging like a firecracker making all the other thoughts leap squawking into the air. 'one of the killers has found us.'

  'Us' - an ugly, selfish, squat little word.

  Roger was with someone. With someone enough to call themselves 'us'. It was a girl. She just knew it. He'd found a replacement for Jennifer. Away from me he'd healed. He was whole again.

  Julia stood looking at the receiver as her thoughts slowed and coalesced. The voices of her two assistants, arguing over an Arabic translation brought her out of her reverie.

  She straightened her back, pushed back her shoulders. 'Roger is back online,' she said interrupting her assistants' argument.

  'Peerson?' said the taller of the two dark haired men.

  'Yes. We'll need to mobilise. Now.'

  Her two assistants ran to her sides like Labradors eager to fetch a stick.

  *

  Becky was determined not to cry as she paced the living room.

  Roger sat as calm as he was able. Chloe sat purring on his lap. Blofeld never had these problems.

  'I don't know you,' said Becky. She stopped pacing and faced Roger. 'A code breaker?'

  'It's a very honourable profession.' That was weak, said Roger C, even by your feeble standards. Not now!

  'A code breaker involved with criminals and secret ministry people!' Becky put her hands on her hips and looked accusingly at Roger. 'Were you using me?'

  Roger pushed Chloe gently to the floor and stood. He held Becky's shoulders, looked into her eyes. 'Yes and no,' he said.

  Becky's eyes narrowed. Wrong answer. And then it happened again: a hand reached inside Roger's chest and gently squeezed his heart. It took his breath away, made him gasp softly, clutch his chest.

  Becky was suddenly concerned. 'Are you alright?' she asked.

  'It's the thought of losing you,' said Roger. 'It makes me feel sick.'

  Becky drew breath to speak. Nothing came out.

  Roger said, 'At first, the thought did cross my mind: stay with you for a while; keep out of The KOPALDA's way. But it happened anyway. If the thought had never entered my head, however briefly, we'd still have ended up … here.'

  Becky folded her arms.

  'Love is a big word,' said Roger. 'And I don't know if what we have is love but I love to be with you, I love talking to you, I love sleeping with you, I love eating -'

  'I get the message.'

  'I've got a lot of baggage,' said Roger. 'A weird past, a strangely wired brain, and I've been weak and have some issues.'

  'Issues?'

  'Anyway, before I go, I just want to make sure I can … well, come back when it's all sorted out.'

  'Come back?' said Becky. 'Why, where are you going?'

  'I have to sort out this Meadhill situation and see what can be done about The KOPALDA.'

  'With this Julia woman?'

  'I've known Julia for years. We've worked together since … well practically forever.'

  'And you're going to meet Meadhill after telling me he's a killer?' said Becky. 'Doesn't sound very sensible.'

  'Nothing to worry about,' said Roger. 'Julia won't let anything happen to me. I'm a valuable asset again.' Roger assumed an air of mock-proudness. 'I rate armed protection, don't you know.'

  Becky stood erect, her eyes now dry and bright. 'Then I should come too,' she said.

  Roger was astonished. 'Don't be ridiculous,' he said. 'You, of all people have seen what violent people are capable of.'

  'If it's as safe as you say there's nothing to worry about,' said Becky. 'And besides, if you want to catch Meadhill you're going to have to go to Teesside Airport and if you don't turn up with me he'll get suspicious.'

  'No,' said Roger. 'I can't allow that.'

  Becky snorted with derision. 'You can't allow it?'

  'For goodness sake it's dangerous. This man's a nutcase. He's insane.'

  The phone rang. Becky answered it. 'Hello?' A short pause and she held the phone out to Roger. 'It's for you. It's her.'

  Roger took the phone. 'Julia?'

  'Roger, myself and a team will be flying up to Teesside within the hour. I need you to do something for me.'

  'Team?'

  'I've managed to borrow an SAS team. Don't ask. We've had a quick conference and everyone agrees.'

  'SAS? Well done, Julia.'

  'Yes, Roger. So you'd better be back.'

  'I am. Don't worry. Agreed about what?'

  'We've all agreed that Betsy should go with you.'

  'Becky. What? Why?'

  Becky cocked her head on one side at the mention of her name and mouthed 'what?'

  'Roger, they want you to go the Teesside Flight Club's hangar as arranged. They'll be with you all the way but you need to convince Becky to go with you otherwise your being there makes no sense and they may run for it. And it seems that these criminals you've … ' Julia struggled for words. 'Well, it seems that some of our people have heard of them and are very, very keen to talk to them about certain governmental issues.'

  'But -'

  Julia interrupted Roger's protest, 'I'm relying on you Roger. You asked for my help remember? Well, this is it. I'll see you tonight.' The line clicked and purred as Julia put down the phone.

  'Well?' said Becky.

  Chapter 28

  Roger slowly paced Becky's living room. He felt ridiculous. He'd bought a new white shirt, a stupid tie, spent ages ironing his suit under a damp tea towel, for what? So he could pretend he was going to a surprise party in an aircraft hangar! This was crazy. And taking Becky too. Exposing her to these lunatics. Lunatics on both sides. This was crazy.

  He thought about sitting down but then he remembered the cat hairs. Where was she? He could hear Becky moving around upstairs. I wonder what she'll be wearing. Does she have a section of her wardrobe reserved for pretending to take boyfriend – boyfriend, what a word – pretending to take boyfriend to aircraft hangar for surprise birthday party, which it isn't really, it's a setup to capture some murdering freak.

  Roger suppressed the urge to shout upstairs. The question, 'are you ready yet?' was the dumbest of all questions. Clearly, if she was ready she'd be downstairs, not stood upstairs waiting for him to shout, 'are you ready yet?' at her. The que
stion was not really a question, it was a command to hurry up. And why are my thoughts getting all churned up about such banal matters? Oh, yes. I'm probably going to die later this evening. That must have something to do with it.

  'Are you ready yet?' Roger called upstairs.

  'Coming.' Christ, she was! Had she been standing there waiting for him to … pull yourself together man.

  Roger looked at the ceiling and followed the sound of Becky's progress across the bedroom and down the stairs. The living room door opened and Becky walked in. Roger failed to prevent a sharp intake of breath.

  'Becky Ketteringham,' he said. 'You look … you are beautiful.'

  Becky smiled uncertainly. 'You don't think it's a bit over the top?'

  Roger sensed this was her best outfit: crazy sparkly silver stilettos, full length, figure hugging peach dress trimmed with tiny silver lace bits, fake diamond necklace, earrings and bracelet, hair up and secured with a peach bow, small glittery handbag. She twirled to show him the plunging rear.

  At the site of Becky's exquisite back, Roger's gonads gave a little twinge of approval. The soft peach colour showed off her lightly tanned, firm, smooth skin to perfection and the smooth, rounded cut of the dress became modesty's guardian as one's eyes were dragged irresistibly down along Becky's gently valleyed spine.

  'You look like a film star,' he managed.

  Putting on a Katherine Hepburn voice, Becky said, 'What does one wear to an ambush in an aircraft hangar, darling. I have simply no idea so I threw on this old thing.'

  Roger took her hand and kissed it. 'You can't go,' he said. 'It's too dangerous. It's stupid. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you.'

  Becky pulled her hand away and became business like. 'We have no choice,' she said. 'It's either this or a life running from mister nutcase, constantly looking over our shoulders.'

  'It's just not fair that I got you involved with this. I can't believe I let this happen.'

  'Well it has and I wouldn't change a thing.' Becky held Roger's cheek lightly in her hand. 'Besides, Chloe loves you too.' Chloe had appeared from nowhere and was busy rubbing her white fur onto Roger's trouser leg.

  'Too? You mean, you love me?' Roger's eyes misted slightly.

  'Maybe a little.'