Tinker, Tailor, Schoolmum, Spy

by Faye Brann

  ‘James! Stop it. God, where is Chris?’ Vicky said. ‘That’s four cupcakes and a brownie … James, please, sweetheart, let go of my leg … two pounds fifty please. James! Stop it.’ James had nearly pulled her over by putting all of his weight on to her right leg, hugging it like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. She bent down to him.

  ‘Look, James, I know you’re bored but I’m going to find Daddy soon and—’

  ‘Daddy!’

  Vicky turned and saw Chris. Narrowly avoiding being hit by a flock of balloons a group of Year Fives were selling, Chris found his way to the stand.

  ‘Thank God. Where have you been?’

  ‘Out by the BBQ of course,’ Chris replied. ‘The bacon sandwiches are delicious. These pies look nice too.’ Chris picked up a bronzed lump of pastry. ‘Are they your handiwork, Matisse?’

  Matisse wrinkled up her nose. ‘Non, I do not understand these mince pies,’ she said. ‘They are definitely belonging to your wife.’

  ‘Well, I’ll definitely take one then.’ Chris scooped up James from behind the table. ‘Hey, dude! What’s up? You want to go with Daddy and take a look around?’

  ‘Want to play with Evie.’ James looked wistfully over to where the arts and crafts table was.

  ‘Well, let’s go and see what she’s doing, and then after that maybe we’ll go and get a hot dog, yeah?’

  ‘Hot dog! Yeah, Daddy, let’s get hot dogs,’ James said, all thoughts of his sister forgotten.

  Vicky kissed her son and waved Chris off.

  ‘Your husband is nice,’ Matisse said.

  ‘He has his moments. I’m lucky, I know it. So are you, though.’

  Matisse laughed bitterly. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, you have Dmitri, and a perfect house, and, well …’

  ‘Yes. I have Dmitri, it’s true. And the house is very beautiful, of course. But there are things in my life that are not quite so perfect.’ She looked down and fiddled with her wedding ring.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think Sacha—’

  ‘S’cuse me, what flavour are the green ones?’ A little boy approached the table.

  ‘They’re vanilla with butter frosting. Did you want one?’ The boy nodded, and Vicky took a cake and offered it to his outstretched hand. ‘A pound, please.’

  By the time the boy walked away, Matisse had moved to the other end of the table to deal with an enquiry about buying a whole Christmas cake and the moment between them was gone. Vicky dropped the pound coin from her cupcake sale into the money tin. She looked across as the Frenchwoman flicked her hair off her face and handed the Christmas cake over to its new owner. Matisse had been on the brink of telling her something. Whether it was important to the case or not she had no idea.

  ‘Don’t you have to go now?’ Matisse came back over to her, tapping her watch.

  ‘The next shift isn’t here yet … but yes, Evie’s going to be singing any minute …’

  ‘Go. I’ll manage without you.’

  ‘Give me a text if my replacement doesn’t turn up and I’ll come back after the first number,’ Vicky said. She’d have to wait to hear whatever it was Matisse had been about to divulge.

  She began negotiating her way through the crowds. A sticky residue carpeted the floor, formed from wrapping paper and dropped Haribos. She stopped in disgust to pick a deformed cola bottle sweetie from the bottom of her boot, causing several other people behind her to tut. She finally made it to the entry hall where a chaotic graveyard of welly boots, coats, buggies and brollies lay. The traffic was quieter here, although the chances of getting snagged on one of the festive Christmas displays stapled to the walls was far greater. This year’s theme was ‘Christmas around the world’; as usual, everyone east of Greece rode camels, it snowed pretty much everywhere north of the equator, and the entire population of the world had assumed delicate pastel-coloured skin, courtesy of Crayola. There was glitter everywhere, shedding on to the shoulders of the passing foot traffic like disco dandruff. Vicky knew she’d probably still be finding the stuff sometime in February.

  The choir would be starting the carol singing in ten minutes. Evie was front and centre and had been practising for weeks. She would never let them hear the end of it if either of them missed it, although it went without saying that she’d also given strict instructions not to stand at the front, cheer, take photos, or do anything embarrassing. Vicky had assured her that she wouldn’t even notice they were there.

  If she didn’t hurry up and find Chris, they wouldn’t make it at all. Vicky looked around outside and saw him wrapped up in his coat and huddled by the barbecue with a group of dads. The smell of cooking pork wafted towards her. She tried to get his attention by waving but, predictably, he didn’t see her. In the end she went to get him.

  ‘Chris, come on, the carols are starting in a minute and we promised Evie we’d be there.’

  Chris waved to the other men. ‘Duty calls,’ he said.

  ‘Where’s James?’

  ‘He’s here … James!’ Chris called out across the playground. Vicky looked in the same direction, scanning the area for her little dot.

  ‘Chris, you can’t just let him run about when there are so many people about … where is he? When did you last see him?’

  ‘He was literally just here. Don’t panic, he can’t have got far.’

  ‘James!’ How could he have taken his eye off him like that? ‘James! Shit, where is he?’

  ‘I swear, he was a few metres away from me the whole time.’ Chris was looking around with a slightly worried face. ‘James!’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Chris!’ Vicky snapped, marching off across the playground. She could feel the panic rising in her chest and her temper rising at her husband. How could he have been so – so neglectful?

  ‘Ollie? Come here a minute, I need you to help find your brother.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Ollie, come on! In fact, all of you can help me out and take a look around outside for him if you don’t mind,’ she said to the group of disgruntled teenagers hunched together like a coven of acne-ridden witches.

  ‘Check the front gates first and the front playground too – that’s got a climbing frame and he might have gone there to play. I’ll go and look inside,’ Vicky said.

  ‘I’ll stay here,’ Chris said. ‘He might come back here to find me.’

  Vicky didn’t reply. She hurried inside, looking from left to right as she walked, trying to catch sight of her little boy. She couldn’t tell Chris the real reason she was so worried, of course. In the normal course of things, James wouldn’t be in much danger; there were loads of parents around who would soon know what to do if he was lost as well as volunteers manning the front gates to stop any errant little ones from leaving the fair without their parents. But Vicky was sick with fear. Who knows what her little trips to Matisse’s house had sparked off; maybe Sacha had found a bug in his office and put two and two together …? She scanned the crowds, looking for faces she didn’t know, stopping to ask mums she knew if they’d seen James, before she reached Becky in the centre of the hall. The choir were lining up ready to start the carols and Evie was staring at her with a furious glare, hardly able to believe her mum had gone against her request to stay hidden in plain sight.

  ‘Mu-uuum …’

  ‘Not now, Evie. Becks? Sorry, we’ve lost James, can you make an announcement?’

  ‘Oh my God, yes, of course, hang on, I’ll just get the microphone switched on.’

  Vicky gave her the details while Becky tampered with a switch and tapped the microphone a few times. Once she was satisfied it was working, she spoke into the microphone ‘Hello? Hello, can you hear me?’

  Slade faded from the speakers and everyone stopped, expecting to hear the introduction to the school choir.

  ‘We have a lost child, ladies and gentlemen, his name is James and he’s three years old, he was last seen outside in the rear playground. Can everyone please have a loo
k around them … James, are you in here, love? Shout for us if you’re in here.’

  Vicky nodded her thanks to Becky and headed back towards the door. Evie had her head in her hands. She caught her mother’s eye and Vicky blew her a kiss before she left the hall. Becky continued on the microphone, ‘Thank you so much for coming today. We’re delighted to introduce the choir to sing their first carol this afternoon. Please come and drop a coin in the bucket to support them – all proceeds are going to charity.’

  Vicky hated choosing between the kids at the best of times, and knew this meant a lot to Evie, even if she never said as much. But she couldn’t stay to watch the choir. She had to find James.

  She picked her way back through the stroller pile-up and out to the front play area. She met Ollie there. ‘Anything?’

  Ollie shook his head. ‘Sorry, Mum. I asked the mums on the gate and they said they haven’t seen any kids on their own wandering about.’

  ‘But what if he wasn’t on his own?’ Vicky said, in a panic.

  ‘Do you think he’s been kidnapped?’

  ‘No, no, I don’t think so … I mean of course not,’ she assured Ollie. ‘Thanks, Ollie. I’ll take it from here. Would you go and listen to Evie’s singing now? At least then one of the family will have heard her.’

  *

  Ollie loped off and Vicky hurried over to the women on the gate, two Reception mums who’d drawn the short straw and were out in the freezing cold on meet-and-greet duty.

  ‘We haven’t seen your little boy. Sorry.’ The first mum rubbed at her nose and stuck her hands into her pockets.

  ‘Has anyone left in the past half hour?’ Vicky said.

  ‘Maybe a couple of people,’ the other woman said.

  ‘With kids?’

  ‘Yeah, but we’re pretty sure yours wasn’t one of them,’ the first one said.

  ‘How do you know?’ Vicky said, taking a step towards them. She felt her fists tighten and drew her right arm slowly back. ‘If he’s been taken, if you let him leave with some stranger—’

  ‘Excuse me, there’s no need to be rude; we would have said if we thought he had left with anyone,’ the first woman said. The other mum was staring at Vicky’s fists.

  Vicky recovered herself. ‘Sorry … sorry. I just want to find him …’

  She heard quick little steps behind her at that moment and saw James running up to her. ‘James! Oh my God, James, where have you been?’

  ‘I found him trying to climb under the hedges at the side of the school,’ a familiar voice said. Sacha. Vicky swallowed and stood up as the Russian approached, brushing bits of plant from his jacket.

  ‘You know, you should be more careful. There are bad people out there, and you might not get so lucky next time.’

  Vicky stared at him, not knowing what to say.

  ‘James is lucky I found him first, though, eh, little man?’ He pinched James’s cheek, a little too hard for her liking. ‘We had a nice chat, didn’t we, about stranger danger?’

  Vicky felt sick but put on a plastic smile and hugged James a little tighter. ‘Thanks, Sacha.’

  He nodded at her and disappeared into the school.

  ‘James! What were you doing? You mustn’t ever run off like that again, do you understand? Always stay where you can see me or Daddy. Always.’

  ‘Sorry, Mummy.’ James looked at her, his face a mix of upset and confusion.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Vicky said. ‘It’s just, Mummy and Daddy were very worried about you. But you’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.’ She gave him a series of kisses ending in his neck, which made him all tickly and giggly. ‘Okay?’

  James nodded, and Vicky put him down. He hesitated a moment before running straight to the play area, checking she could still see him, just as he’d been told. Vicky kept her eyes fixed on him while she fished out her phone and dialled Chris, hands still shaking. She thought about what she’d just said. She wasn’t sure if James, or anyone else in the family, was really safe at all. Whether she was still technically on the case wouldn’t matter to a man like Sacha. There are bad people out there. Was he saying that he knew about her? If he had found out, if he put two and two together … she knew he didn’t mess around when it came to anyone who pissed him off. If he found out what she’d done, it would be her and her family in the line of fire, not Jonathan or any of his cronies. She needed to be prepared, needed her family to be prepared, and there was only one way of making that happen.

  Chris picked up the phone after one ring. ‘Found him,’ she said. ‘Let’s go home as soon as Evie is finished. I need to talk to you about something.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  There was a long silence following Vicky’s speech. Evie was watching TV, still furious that they’d all missed her singing. Ollie was in his room playing computer games and James had mercifully fallen asleep on the sofa. It was just her and Chris, sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, Vicky waiting for him to say something. She could see the emotions travelling across his face – anger, confusion, upset, shock – they followed one after the other after the other, and although she wanted to keep talking, keep justifying everything, she realised it was probably better to shut up and wait for the wheels to stop turning.

  ‘So, let me get this right. All this time – right from when I first met you – you’ve been a – I feel stupid even saying the word – you’ve been a spy?’

  ‘Well, no, not technically … I mean, yes, but when I got pregnant with Ollie, then I wasn’t active anymore.’

  ‘But you were still a spy.’

  ‘No. Look, it didn’t work that way … they agreed I’d stay on, but as a sleeper. I never did an undercover job again after that. It was another life, not important to me, or us.’

  ‘Except that now it is.’

  ‘It’s only since September that I’ve been working again.’

  ‘To spy on Sacha. Since September. Which was four months ago. Four months, Vic! How could you have not said anything for four months?’

  ‘I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be worried.’

  ‘Worried about what? Should I be worried?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘So why are you telling me now then? Because it sounds an awful lot to me like I should be worried. You said you thought James had been taken by someone.’

  ‘I was … I mean, I just thought—’

  ‘For a spy, you’re not getting your story very straight. If I don’t need to be worried then why are you? Jesus, Vicky.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ There was a long pause. Vicky felt a lump rise in her throat.

  ‘Have you ever killed anyone?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said, have you ever killed anyone?’

  ‘Chris, come on …’

  ‘Well, have you?’

  ‘I can’t answer that.’

  Anger flared up in his eyes. ‘I supposed there’s a lot you can’t answer, isn’t there?’

  ‘There are things I can’t tell you because they’re classified or sensitive to an operation, but I can try to answer questions as best I can. I know this is a huge shock, Chris—’

  ‘That’s the understatement of the bloody year—’

  ‘But you have to know I stopped doing all of this because of you, and Ollie, and then Evie, and James: I realised my family was more important. But then, when Jonathan called, it felt good. It felt like I mattered, like I had a purpose again – beyond the kids. Like I was doing something for myself, for once.’

  ‘I get it, Vicky. But what I don’t get is why you never told me. I mean, when we first met, or when we had Ollie, or even in September when you got recalled, or woken up, or whatever you call it – why didn’t you tell me then? Is it because you couldn’t, or because you didn’t want to? Is it because you didn’t trust me?’

  Vicky was miserable. ‘No! No … I don’t know how to explain it …’

  ‘Try.’

  Vicky paused, trying to get what sh
e wanted to say straight in her mind.

  ‘When we met, it was just so nice, to see myself through your eyes. I was full of … sadness … I’d made a huge fuck up at work, no one liked me very much. I didn’t like me very much. You didn’t know all that. You didn’t put me in a box or judge me.’

  ‘So that made it okay to lie?’

  ‘You saw me differently. It meant so much, Chris, to have someone see me differently.’

  ‘I saw what you wanted me to see. What was I, just another target?’

  ‘No! I never thought of you in that way.’

  There was another long pause. She stared down at the table.

  ‘I wanted to tell you, but I never knew how … we found out I was pregnant with Ollie, and my case had gone cold; my boss gave me leave for as long as I wanted it. By the time I was ready to tell you, or thought it was the right time to tell you, it didn’t seem relevant anymore. We had a little baby and he was the important thing. I didn’t want to burden you with something for no reason.’

  ‘But it wouldn’t have been a burden, Vicky.’

  ‘Yes, it would.’ Vicky leaned across the table to take his hand. She had to be honest with him – as honest as she could be. ‘Chris, this job, it meant everything to me. I spent so many years pretending to be someone else that eventually I became her. I did dangerous things, dealt with nasty people and saw some very bad things, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. When I met you, when I got pregnant—’

  ‘Christ, tell me you didn’t stay with me because of Ollie?’ Chris said, ripping his hand away.

  ‘By then I’d already made up my mind that I wanted to be with you,’ she said. ‘But I wasn’t ready – we weren’t ready – for me to tell you, and then when we were, I didn’t think it mattered anymore. I had a family to love instead, and so I let my old life slip away into the shadows. I’m sorry. I was wrong.’

  Chris looked at her.

  ‘I feel like I don’t know what’s true or not anymore, about us.’

  ‘It’s all true. I love you. I gave up the service for you, and for our kids. I’m the last person who thought they’d ever be going back there again.’