Hung Out to Dry

by Hadford Howell

  ***

  Speeches over, the Prime Minister started to walk-through parts of the assembled crowd, accompanied by Tullock. His CPU team knew that Motby seldom wasted an opportunity to meet and greet his people and visitors alike. Whether the locals were persons who had already or might yet vote for him in the future, Motby used the opportunity to mingle. As for visitors, his engagement with them meant he was doing his bit to shore up the tourism sector.

  Motby was aware that some of the night’s guests did not know much about or understand the game of cricket. That included several of the Heads of diplomatic missions in attendance. He knew this because they had so informed him in previous conversations. Nonetheless, he was delighted that they had accepted Tullock’s invitation and appeared to be enjoying themselves. Perhaps some of them might even decide to attend at least one day of the Test Match to see what all the sporting excitement was all about.

  His entry into the crowd was therefore not unexpected by his CPU team that evening. Thankfully, the exercise went smoothly. He moved quickly through the friendly crowd, offering handshakes, smiles and mouthing pleasantries like “Hello, how are you?” and “Good to see you…” Responses were of the nature of “Good night Prime Minister…” and “Good to see you PM…”

  Sarah McPiers, President of New Beavers Cricket Club (NBCC), a long-established but small cricket club from North London, was leading a ten-member group to Barbados for the Test Match. Four members of the group had been given invitations to the reception. She was speechless when she realised that she was to be one of the guests who would get to shake the hand of Barbados’ Prime Minister. For McPiers, this was not something that she would have gotten to do back home. Luckily for her, Glen Aitken, a member of her group captured the moment on his phone camera for posterity. That picture would ultimately find a place of honour in NBCC’s clubhouse on their return to the UK. A second print of the moment would adorn the living room in her house. An e-copy would also appear in her local UK newspaper.

  ***

  Eventually, Motby reached the residence’s hallway, closely followed by Tullock. Their spouses were already standing by the door in conversation.

  A nod from Sergeant Eversley sent Constable Marshall heading through the front door to bring around PM1, the Prime Minister’s official vehicle. With departing pleasantries having been exchanged between the hosts and their principal official guests for the evening, Marshall, with Eversley beside him and with the Motbys in the back seat, manoeuvred PM1 down the exit driveway and out of Ben Mar’s gates, before commencing the five-minute drive to Ilaro Court for a private function the Motby family would host.

  Back inside the High Commissioner’s residence, the cricket party continued apace, with Browne now undertaking the second part of his night’s assignment. He was delighted that the first part of his work that evening had gone off without incident. He hoped the second part would also be trouble-free.

  ***

  A few minutes later, PM1 arrived at Ilaro Court. There, the Prime Minister and his wife joined other members of the Motby family in hosting a long-promised dinner for an old acquaintance.

  ***

  Diane Burke met their guests on arrival. Colonel Burke was still dressing as he had rushed home from BIB HQ to take a shower before dressing in the clothes Diane had carefully laid out for him.

  The Thomases and Diane Burke were having drinks by the time Colonel Burke joined them. He introduced himself to Sir Thadeus and Cindy Lady Thomas saying, “Good evening and welcome to our home. I see Diane is looking after you. I do apologise for running late, but I’ve had quite a day at the office.”

  “I gather you’ve had a day like those I usually have at my office back home, Trevor…but we learn to deal with them, eh what,” said Sir Thadeus.

  “Yes, indeed we do,” responded Colonel Burke.

  “Work aside, Trevor, I must really say that I’ve very much enjoyed my few days in Barbados already. What a lovely country you live in. I have a Bajan on my staff back in London, a very nice, bright and friendly fellow. Knowing him as well as I do, I had an inkling of what I was getting myself into by coming down here. Makes me wonder now why it took us so long to visit.”

  “Why thank you, Sir Thadeus… Thad. I really hope you’ll have some fun while you are here. Balwin’s mentioned to me that you expect to take in part of the Test Match. Cindy, how’s it been for you so far? Are you as excited to be in Barbados as your husband is?” Colonel Burke asked.

  “Oh yes, Trevor, very much so! I’ve wanted to visit for about five years now, but could never get Thad away from his work. One crisis or another always seemed to put a spanner in the works, until now. Diane and I both know what you men are like once you commit to your jobs. I’m glad he’s finally managed to get some time away. Oh, and before I forget Diane, thanks for having us over this evening. We’ve brought you a small gift to show our appreciation for the trouble you must have taken to prepare a meal for us,” said Cindy, taking the package now being held by her husband and presenting it to Diane.

  “Thank you ever so much, but this really was not necessary. We enjoy entertaining, though we do not do much of that nowadays given Trevor’s unpredictable schedule. I sincerely hope that you both enjoy what we’ve prepared for dinner, speaking of which, let’s all have another drink before we sit down to eat.”

  “Sounds good to me,” responded Sir Thadeus. “The aroma from your kitchen is delightful.”

  Just then, Sherman Broome, Diane’s home helper for nearly ten years, appeared and took their second drink order.

  “The usual for us please, Sher,” said Diane. That meant a coke for her and a large glass of chilled coconut water for Colonel Burke.

  “Once you’ve brought the drinks, give us ten minutes and then we’ll sit down to eat,” stated Diane.

  “Very well, Mrs Burke,” said Broome, disappearing from the room.

  ***

  The Motbys found Selwick being entertained by their daughter Kimberly and Anton Zendon, Kimberly’s fiancé. Selwick had been collected from Hilton Barbados at 7:30 p.m. by a RBPF officer and so had arrived early for their dinner engagement. Other members of the Motby family would join them for dinner at 8:00 p.m. that would be in his honour.

  Motby expected tomorrow’s local newspapers’ back sports pages to carry pictures of High Commissioner Tullock and himself with players from both teams. UK papers would even have some of the pictures up on their websites before tonight was over. A selection of the pictures taken by the High Commission’s photographer would also be forwarded to the management of both teams for circulation to the players and their families.

  Motby wondered how this would look to Barbadian given the day’s story on the successful ambush of the PR and resulting escaped prisoners. Tomorrow’s front pages would certainly feature that story.

  “Ah well, what’s done is done. I’ll not spoil Captain Selwick’s evening with us,” he said softly to himself.

  ***

  The two men met for the first time at their pre-arranged meeting place in the unlit car park of an Anglican parish church situated just off the ABC highway.

  Their meeting was brief, barely three minutes in fact. After introducing themselves, the visitor to the island thanked the Barbadian for providing requested information on a critical matter at the appropriate time. The meeting ended with the exchange of a small white envelope and an agreement that they would meet again the following evening at another venue around the same time to finalise their future potential and ongoing relationship. Their farewell was even shorter. The visitor would call the Barbadian the next afternoon to advise their meeting location.

  The men then went their separate ways. The visitor’s hired vehicle turned onto the ABC highway and headed for the south coast where he planned to spend a quiet night in his hotel room, having already pre-ordered with room service to deliver a meal to his room at 9:15 p.m. His work was done for today.

  The Barbadian also turned onto the ABC highway,
but in the opposite direction, going towards the north of the island. He viewed tomorrow’s meeting as the start of an ongoing engagement. How quickly the two men could establish a collaborative mechanism for future activities would need to be finalised. Yes, this was good, the Barbadian thought to himself as he patted the envelope now sitting nicely in his left pants pocket. He could not wait for tomorrow night’s meeting.

  Once he got home, the Barbadian planned to have a drink alone on his balcony after his wife and children had gone to bed. That would be his small reward for what he had done. His real ‘celebration’ could follow later, once he was properly set up. For now, he’d call his ‘better half’ to tell her he would be home soon.

  ***

  Eight persons sat around Ilaro Court’s main dining table in Motby, Jackie, Jackie’s sister Gillian Nowell and her husband Franklyn, Kimberley, Anton and Captain Michael ‘Mike’ Motby, the Motby’s son who was a senior ATR Captain with LIAT, the Caribbean airline and their special guest of honour.

  Motby had excused himself from the dinner table on three occasions during the meal to receive updates on the unfolding national security situation. Two calls were related to the prison escape from earlier that day, while one dealt with the ongoing search for the missing CBOB Deputy Governor. Nonetheless, he and members of his family were able to chat amiably with Captain Selwick about his family, career in aviation, security trends in aviation, Brexit and of course, cricket.

  ***

  Colonel Burke, Diane, Sir Thadeus and Cindy had very much enjoyed the excellent meal prepared for them by Diane, with Broome’s assistance. Their conversation over dinner had been light-hearted and surprisingly open and friendly for two couples who were only meeting each other for the first time. It took nearly two hours for the four-course meal and dessert to be slowly devoured. Dessert was home-made vanilla ice cream, a light fruit flan pastry and freshly prepared mixed fruit to complete the meal. The bottles of red and white wine that were available throughout dinner had barely been touched.

  Throughout the meal, the day’s two security incidents were on Colonel Burke’s mind, although he was able to keep his thoughts on them latent during what turned out to be a pleasant and stress-free evening.

  ***

  It was around 9:50 p.m. when the last guests exited the British High Commissioner’s official residence. Among them were Sarah McPiers, her boyfriend Glyn Aitken, himself a former England Test all-rounder and Timothy Rickson, the club’s fast-talking but ageing opening bowler.

  On exiting the official residence, they saw a young lady standing alone. They were not sure, but it appeared as if she was waiting for someone, or her transport back to her hotel had already left. She looked lost, prompting Rickson, the most talkative member of the New Beavers Cricket Club (NBCC), to ask a question on the subject to which she confirmed that it was the latter.

  Rickson, being well ‘oiled’, stated, “Gallantry is not dead! How may I be of assistance to you, young lady? Where do you need to get to this beautiful evening? Do I need to call you a taxi or can we drop you off somewhere in ours whenever it gets here?”

  “I’m staying at the hotel closest from the Hilton, about seven minutes away,” was her reply.

  Just then, Gina Crosby, the English-born British High Commission media liaison officer descended the residence steps, heading for her vehicle.

  “Good night. I hope you’ve all enjoyed your evening with us. We enjoyed having you here. Get home safely.”

  “We will, once the taxi we’ve ordered gets here.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Crosby.

  “We’re staying in Hastings, but want to go to St Lawrence Gap for a night cap before turning in. Oh, on the way, our young lady friend here needs to get to her hotel by the Hilton. Our ordered taxi from inside the High Commission’s house has not arrived to pick us up.”

  “Don’t worry, I can drop you all off by making a slight detour on my way home. I live in Maxwell, just before Oistins so you’re all on my way.”

  “Many thanks, ma’am. I’m obliged to you,” said Rickson. His gift of the gab had won the day again, and saved his group a few dollars.

  On the way, the discussion turned to what exactly they might do in St Lawrence Gap after dropping off the young lady. Aitken mentioned that on the last England cricket team’s tour to Barbados, there was a new club that had a great atmosphere where you could get a late meal, a few drinks and do some dancing if you were so inclined which he now wanted to do. So, aware of this, they agreed to go to that club, once they could find it. He could not recall the club’s name.

  “I think you mean P’s Disco. I know it’s location and can drop you off there,” said Crosby.

  She did just that some fifteen minutes later.

  The young lady who had been standing outside the High Commissioner’s residence and was now a member of the NBCC group was Rhonda Ziegler, a sports reporter for the Daily Dispatch, a well-known English newspaper. Rhonda had been assigned to cover the Barbados and Trinidad legs of England’s 2018 cricket tour of the Caribbean. She did not need to file her story until 10:00 a.m. tomorrow, so why not have a couple more drinks with her newly-found friends and a meal to boot before she turned in for the night?

  A few hours later, Ziegler started to wish that she had gotten Crosby to drop her off at her hotel. But then again, she also realised that she could get her first major front-page story which was not exactly a sporting one. Her sojourn to St Lawrence Gap might have been worth it after all!

  ***

  Selwick thanked the Prime Minister for the excellent meal and opportunity to meet other members of the Motby family in person and in more pleasant circumstances than when he and Motby had first met. As anticipated, Selwick had allowed himself two glasses of wine during dinner, although he was careful to advise those at the table that he would not be flying any aircraft before Friday afternoon. That got a chuckle out of everyone.

  When it was clear that the evening was coming to an end, Captain Motby asked if he could be excused along with Selwick so that they could spend a few minutes together to discuss a couple of ‘pilot-related’ matters.

  “No problem, son,” said Motby.

  Just then, his mobile phone rang for a fourth time that evening.

  “Excuse me again please, I really must take this, but please go on with Mike. We’ll all say goodnight to Captain Selwick before he leaves us.”

  Leaving the dining room, he said. “Prime Minister Motby…”

  Jackie had noticed that Selwick and her son had not spoken much to each other during dinner, but she sensed that they wanted to.

  “Yes, I guess you two pilots have a lot in common to speak about. Please use the balcony,” she stated. She only hoped her son remembered that Selwick’s body clock was past 3:00 a.m., given the four-hour difference between UK and Barbados at this time of the year.

  The unmarked RBPF vehicle which had brought Selwick from Hilton Barbados, stood ready outside to return him there whenever he got around to saying goodnight and goodbye to everyone.

  ***

  The Head of Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) and the Director of Barbados Intelligence Bureau (BIB) sat on the balcony of the latter’s home overlooking part of the restored expansive and peaceful Graeme Hall swamp. They held night-cap drinks in their hands, in Sir Thadeus’ case it was a Johnny Walker Black whisky neat (his third such drink for the evening), while Colonel Burke nursed a small (Cockspur) rum and coke with loads of ice, his first shot of alcohol that night having used coconut water throughout dinner.

  Sir Thadeus spoke first.

  “Trevor, I know it’s none of my business, but are your colleagues making progress on recapturing the two escaped prisoners?”

  “Yes and no. This has not happened here before – I mean prisoners escaping while being transported between our prisons compound and a courthouse. Three of the five prisoners did not go anywhere so were back in HMP Dodds by mid-afternoon. Of the missing two, one has a
long history. A local gang leader of sorts. He’s been involved in stealing, gun importation, drug sales, stabbings and more over the years. The other prisoner is what our police colleagues call small beer, he’s not paid his child support.”

  “Do they expect to capture both men quickly, possibly by morning or at worse by this time tomorrow?”

  “We hope so. There aren’t many places in Barbados where one can hide from law enforcement.”

  “That’s good. Hey Trevor, before I meet tomorrow with your fellow Heads of security agencies, I wanted to share something with you, as our organisations do a similar job. I’ll not mention it tomorrow in our general meeting with your security colleagues. As we both know, there’ll be no formal record of tomorrow’s session, but I wish, no need your thoughts on if you can give me your word or ‘buy in’ to what I say. If you agree, once I’m back in London I’ll ask our Ministers to formally request of your Ministers, through my FCO to your Foreign Affairs Ministry, that we commence activity along the lines I’m about to put to you. How’s that sound?”

  “I’m listening, Thad, but can’t promise anything until I hear what you have to say.”

  ***

  Power had gotten himself a few hours’ sleep after Wharton’s departure. When the alarm woke him, he took a long shower. After cleaning himself up, he found a change of clothing from Wharton’s wardrobe. Power was lucky that Wharton and himself were of a similar height and size. Power was hungry, so went to the fridge to find something to eat. He took up one of the large pizzas he found and warmed it up in the microwave. Once he had devoured it, he washed it down with a cold Banks beer. He was now clean, refreshed, refuelled and ready to go on his journey dressed in Wharton’s all-black outfit.