by Faye Brann
‘But you did it anyway, without telling me.’
‘I’m sorry, Chris. Really, really sorry. I’m telling you now. Please, don’t be angry.’
Chris met her eyes, his own filled with hurt and betrayal.
‘Do you have to – Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying this – do you, did you have to “do” anything with anyone? Have you and Sacha been—’
‘No! No. No. That’s not what it’s like. I would never do anything like that.’ She winced inwardly. ‘Not anymore. Maybe there was a time, before we met … look, with Sacha, it was just information gathering and reporting back. They wanted me to target Matisse to get in the house and plant a few bugs. That’s all, Chris. I swear.’
‘But you said you fucked up, before. What’s to say that wouldn’t happen again?’
‘It would never, ever happen again.’ Vicky felt tears prickling at her eyelids.
Chris remained stoic. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but just saying it isn’t good enough. I’m sure you’re very qualified and I believe you when you say you’d never make another mistake. But it’s not the driver of the car who’s the risk. It’s the drivers of all the other cars, the psychos and the criminals and the Russians with a child at our school –’ he realised he was shouting, and brought it down to a hiss, ‘– I mean, for fuck’s sake, Vicky, you had Dmitri here for a playdate, you treat Matisse like she’s your best friend—’
‘I did it to keep our kids safe!’ This time it was her who raised her voice. ‘I thought, if it was me working the operation, then I could make sure that nothing happened. And I would be the first to know, if anyone was in any danger.’
‘But what if that person was you? The mother of our children. My wife. How would you feel if you were kidnapped, or killed, and our children were left with no mother? Did it ever occur to you to think about that?’
She thought about the past few months and how, although it hadn’t felt like it at the time, she had compromised her own safety. She thought about the poison dart gathering dust at the back of the wardrobe; the gun waiting for her at HQ that she’d refused to pick up; her woefully out-of-date self-defence skills and lack of strength when she’d attacked Jacob. She shook her head miserably.
‘You say the kids are growing up, that there’ll come a time where they don’t need you anymore. But that’s not true, Vics. We all need you. We always will.’
‘They’re getting older. I’m getting older. When they’re all grown up and gone, I don’t want to end up regretting not having built a life for myself.’
Chris clenched his jaw. ‘If you wanted to do something for yourself, then I can’t blame you. If you want to do a job that you love, I want to support you. But this? Is this really the right choice for our family?’
Vicky swallowed. ‘I’m trying to make the right choices for everyone,’ she said dully. ‘And … it’s why I’m not going back.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Jonathan didn’t need me to be involved after I’d planted the bugs. He offered me my job back, permanently. He offered me a desk position too, but I didn’t want it.’
‘Why not?’
‘If I’m going to do this job, it has to be in the field. It’s what I love doing. It’s where I’m best.’
There was a silence.
‘You’re best right here with us.’
‘I’m best when I’m happy, Chris. It’s not that I hate my life now; I love it, most of the time … but I can’t be happy just doing the school run, the PTA and coffee mornings forever. Now James is bigger, and starting school next year, I want to do something else with my life. I’m nearly fifty, for God’s sake.’
‘You are not nearly fifty, Vicky.’
‘You know what I mean. I haven’t worked in fourteen years. I’m basically useless outside of JOPS. I’ve got no work history, no CV, nothing. Jonathan wanted me back and maybe it was reckless, but I wanted to fix things and prove to him that I wasn’t old and useless.’
‘Prove to him, or prove to yourself?’
‘Both, I suppose,’ Vicky admitted. ‘But honestly, Chris. It was nothing dangerous. I would never have done anything to put you or the kids in harm’s way.’
‘But you thought today that you might have. That’s my point. Sometimes it’s not in your control.’
‘They stood me down. And I was trying to lead a double life, by not telling you the truth. If you’d known what I was doing, you’d have kept James closer maybe—’
‘I shouldn’t have to!’ Chris exploded. ‘Christ, Vics, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you see, even with the best of intentions, you’re putting our family at risk?’
A tear fell down her cheek.
‘You can’t pretend it’s not dangerous. You’re not James bloody Bond, guaranteed to live so the franchise can continue.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, wiping her runny nose. ‘I cocked up.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if making reckless choices is not just part of your personality – the bit that you kept so well hidden from me.’
Vicky smarted at the comment ‘That’s not fair, Chris. I’m not reckless. I’m not.’ She wasn’t sure she even believed herself anymore. Had everything she’d done, every decision she’d taken, been so irresponsible?
They both went quiet again. Vicky sniffed away the snot that threatened her upper lip.
‘I just wish you’d said something before.’
‘If I’d have told you, would you feel the same way?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Because, if I was a proper part of the team, things would be different. I’d have back-up, surveillance, information … we’d all be protected. They’d look after us. Lots of people in Intelligence have spouses, families – they take it very seriously.’
Chris leaned over the table.
‘But I need you to take it seriously, too.’
‘I do.’
He sat back, deep in thought. Vicky watched him, wondering if she’d ruined their marriage for ever. She didn’t know what to say to put things right … but maybe there was nothing she could say. Finally, he spoke.
‘I’m not over this, Vics, not by a long shot.’
‘I know.’
‘So if you go back there, you have to be honest with me. I want to know if you’re doing something dangerous; I want to know if we’re vulnerable.’
‘If I go back there?’
Chris sighed. ‘I hate the idea that I’m stopping you from following your dream. Even if it’s a nightmare for me.’
Vicky felt a glimmer of hope. ‘I could see about part time. It would be easier, for all of us—’
‘If you aren’t honest with me after all this, if you don’t talk to me, it’s going to be very hard to come back from.’
‘I understand.’ She put her hand across the table and took his hand. ‘So, can I call Jonathan?’ she said.
‘Talk to him. See if you can figure something out. But I mean it, Vicky. No more lies.’
‘I promise.’
Chapter Nineteen
The following Tuesday, the Year Four parents’ coffee morning was in full swing. Upwards of twenty mums were sitting in the cafe dissecting the events of the Christmas Fair and waiting more or less patiently for the young girl behind the counter to figure out their order of decaf skinny mocha mini espresso latte-ccinos, or whatever they had asked for.
Vicky sat next to Isobel’s mother, Diana, who had somehow managed to get served already and was sipping smugly on a sea of froth and cocoa powder.
‘So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?’ Diana dabbed her coffee moustache with a napkin.
At the mention of Christmas holidays, the atmosphere grew tense and the women began sizing each other up like runners at a starting line.
‘We’re off to Rome for New Year’s Eve,’ one mum said, starting the bidding. ‘Holly and Jackson are really looking forward to it.’
Vicky joined the chorus of ‘ooo, lovely!’, although she su
spected if they were anything like her kids, Holly and Jackson would rather be watching Harry Potter and stuffing their faces with Quality Street than wandering around collapsed bits of old stone in the rain.
Diana’s attention turned to the seat opposite Vicky, where Matisse sat.
‘What about you, Matisse? Bet you’re booked somewhere nice.’
Matisse sipped her espresso, the only other drink to have made it to the table so far. ‘Sacha decided at the last minute that we would go to Dubai for Christmas.’
Vicky hadn’t seen her since Saturday’s Christmas Fair, but, yesterday at Gilbert House, once she was reinstated, Jonathan had wasted no time confirming her suspicions about the Kozlovsky family holiday. Their trip coincided nicely with the date that the shipment of weapons was due to arrive there and Vicky had been wracking her brains trying to figure out why, if their marriage was as bad as Matisse had hinted at, Sacha would book a holiday for the family instead of going alone. Was he going to use them as collateral in some way? And if that was the case, who would protect them? Jonathan had said another JOPS agent was running point, with Special Forces back up, but she couldn’t leave it to those clodhoppers to look after Matisse and Dmitri. JOPS orders had been to take Sacha out and take the terrorists down. There was nothing in there about protecting the wife and kid. She needed to be there, on the ground, seeing this thing through; she couldn’t be part of another operation where someone got hurt because she didn’t stop it. Not again.
‘Oh my God, that is such a coincidence. We’re going to Dubai, too!’
Jonathan was going to kill her. Followed swiftly by Chris. She felt a bit sick.
‘Really? You never said anything.’ Becky glared at her and mouthed ‘What the hell?’ in her direction. Vicky did her best to placate her friend.
‘I only found out this morning, Becks. I was just about to tell you, I … I won a competition.’
‘That’s amazing!’ Holly and Jackson’s mum said, although she clearly didn’t mean it. A free holiday to Dubai at Christmas definitely trumped three days in Rome.
‘This is wonderful news.’ Matisse, on the other hand, had genuine warmth in her voice. ‘Dmitri will be delighted to have a playmate on holiday to spend time with – we can meet up at the waterpark, or for dinner, maybe? Or even Christmas Day on the beach. Where are you staying? We are at the One & Only on the Palm.’
‘I don’t know – I haven’t got all the details yet.’ Her brain was running at a hundred miles an hour as the reality hit of what she’d just done. ‘I doubt it will be the same hotel as you though. It was a competition in a magazine – I don’t think they’ll stretch to the One & Only.’
‘Still, a family holiday for five, at Christmas, for free – sounds too good to be true,’ Diana said.
‘Well, it’s definitely happening!’ Vicky did her best to look excited. She’d committed the whole family to being an arm’s length from a case, just when she’d promised Chris she wouldn’t get them involved. And she hadn’t exactly cleared the trip with Jonathan before opening her big mouth. She hoped both the men in her life were still feeling supportive.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before about the competition,’ Becky said, on their way back to the cars. Vicky walked more quickly than usual, eager to avoid too much conversation and desperate to talk to Chris before she broke the news to Jonathan.
‘Sorry, Becks. I honestly was going to tell you when I saw you this morning, but there were so many people around.’ She spoke with punctuated breaths, puffing in and out as they made their way up the hill. She really needed to start using that running app again.
‘So, are you going?’ Becky said.
‘Of course we are,’ she sounded a lot more confident than she felt about that.
‘How exciting! All that glamour and sunshine, you lucky thing. The kids are going to go nuts. There’s that waterpark, what’s it called, Atlantis, right, with the shark tank slide thing?’
‘Sounds lovely.’ Chris was going to be so angry he’d probably feed her to the sharks given half a chance.
‘And the shopping, and the beaches … you won’t need that duvet you’ve got on, that’s for sure. Bikinis all the way.’
Horrific visions flashed before Vicky’s eyes, of chasing Sacha through the streets while she wore nothing but a two-piece and a sarong.
‘Do you have anything to wear in the evenings? You can’t just throw on jeans, you know. When Laura went she said everyone looked like they came straight from a magazine.’
‘I take it you mean Vogue rather than Good Housekeeping.’
‘We’ll have to do a massive shopping trip before you go.’ Becky reached her car and got in. ‘See you later – and bring the details with you – I want to see where you’re staying.’
*
‘You did what?’
She had decided it would be better to visit Chris at work, rather than call. Now half the office had heard Chris erupt through the glass doors of his office, she was regretting it.
‘Vics, you promised me.’
‘I needed to tell you before I confirmed with Jonathan—’
‘Tell me?’
‘Keep your voice down, for God’s sake. Chris, I swear the kids – you – will be safe. I’ll be safe. We won’t be anywhere near the real action; I’ll be where I’m most useful – keeping tracks on Sacha, Matisse and Dmitri, and maintaining my cover.’
‘Your cover? Is that what we are now?’
A well-meaning assistant arrived at the door with two mugs of coffee. Chris shifted irritably in his seat while she placed them on his desk. They sat in silence until she left the room.
‘It’s not just the kids, Vicky. What about my mum?’
She’d hadn’t thought as far as that. On top of everything else, they would have to abandon Maggie for Christmas.
Chris gestured at the mess of paper around him. ‘And what about my job? Did it occur to you I might not be able to take the time off at this short notice?’
‘It’s always the “wrong time” whenever we book a holiday.’ This, at least, wasn’t easy to dispute. Chris was forever complaining about the inconvenience of taking a holiday close to deadlines that hadn’t existed when they booked it. ‘At least at Christmas everyone else is off work too. It’s the ideal time, if you ask me.’
‘Except you’ll be working.’
‘Only the first few days. We can stay on afterwards and really make the most of it.’
‘It seems like I don’t have much choice.’
‘I’m not holding a gun to your head, if that’s what you mean.’
‘No. But you could.’
There was another long pause.
‘Look, Chris, you said it was okay for me to go back to work. This is my work. I have to go where I’m needed.’
‘I bet it was so much easier when I didn’t know anything, and you could just manipulate your way into getting what you wanted. Right?’
‘Chris—’
‘I mean, you could have lied to my face, convinced me we’d won a competition. It would have been so easy, wouldn’t it?’
‘It’s never been easy to lie to you—’
‘So what’s going to happen when we get to Dubai? I take the kids to the waterpark and you kill someone, or arrest them, or whatever it is you do, and then we all have Christmas like nothing happened?’
‘Please be quiet, someone will hear.’
Chris glowered from behind his desk. ‘Is that all you’re worried about?’
‘Given the situation, yes, I am. Chris, please don’t make me regret telling you.’
Chris looked like he was going to implode. ‘You promised me, Vics. You said you wouldn’t put the kids in danger. You said you’d talk to me. Yet here we are again, with you making decisions unilaterally and expecting me to go along with it like it’s perfectly normal. And it is far, far from normal.’
Vicky sighed. ‘What do you want me to do, Chris?
Chris put his head in his
hands. ‘You’ve told so many lies.’
‘Only one lie.’
‘But a whopping great big one that I can’t let go of. And you’re so … cavalier … like I’m the one who’s being stupid for worrying. And I worry, Vics. Since you told me, I worry all the time. The idea that I don’t know what you’re doing or where you are and how I’m going to be a nervous wreck if I get a call from school saying you didn’t pick the kids up, or I’m going to get home and find our house burned to the ground … I worry about you – about me, our kids – and I feel completely helpless to protect any of us.’
She reached across the desk. ‘I understand. But Matisse and Dmitri, they don’t have anyone protecting them either. They could get hurt, and I can’t – I won’t – have them caught in the crossfire.’
Chris shook his head. ‘All this danger … it’s not how I see our life. It’s not how I see you.’
‘It’s not how I see me either.’
‘But some part of you must or you wouldn’t be doing it.’
Vicky spoke through the silence. ‘My job is to keep people safe. To keep us safe. And I’m good at it. That’s all I’m doing in Dubai. It’s the only thing I’ll be allowed to do in Dubai. Jonathan is going to go crazy when I tell him what I’ve done. I’ve gone way beyond my jurisdiction. I shouldn’t have said anything to Matisse without permission from him first to run with it. But the opportunity was right there, and I …’
‘You took it.’
Vicky nodded.
‘And that’s the problem. You took that decision without even thinking about anyone else. About how it might make me feel.’
‘But you said you would support me! I can’t keep consulting you on every little thing.’
‘Little?’
‘Relatively speaking, yes.’
‘So if this is little, what does big look like? I can’t just give you a blanket “yes” on everything. What kind of husband and father would that make me?’
And what kind of wife and mother did it make her putting them in this situation? She hesitated. There was no right answer. She wanted to do the right thing by Chris and the kids. She had to protect Matisse and Dmitri. And, deep down, she knew a little bit of her needed it for herself, too. ‘Please, Chris.’