RED MIST FALLING

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RED MIST FALLING Page 10

by Richard T Green


  ‘I was just about to call you.’

  ‘I got there first for once then.’

  She laughed. ‘It won't happen again.’

  ‘You at work?’

  ‘No, don't seem to have the energy for such things today. Not back there until Monday now.’

  ‘Glad you said that.’

  ‘Oh really? Are you about to make some feeble and vain attempt to take control, Madeline?’

  It was my turn to laugh. ‘Maybe. You got to give me some brownie points for trying.’

  ‘Try away then.’

  ‘I could sure use a break, and if I'm reading things right it wouldn't do you any harm either. What do you say to hitting the road this evening, finding some clean fresh air for a couple of days?’

  ‘Oh Madeline, I don't think… no, wait…’ I heard her put the phone down. There were no other sounds for half a minute, then she spoke again. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  A big smile spread across my face. ‘Dunno yet, only just had the idea… somewhere nice and well away from here.’

  ‘That's not taking control, that's just pretending.’

  ‘Just wait, I'm on it now. Won't be telling you where though.’

  ‘Tease.’

  ‘Just look on it as me taking control.’

  ‘Cheat.’

  ‘Pick you up at six. Seven hours should be enough time for you to pack.’

  ‘Funny girl too.’

  ‘Ok, better go start taking control. See you at six.’

  ‘Thank you. Madeline..?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I… I don't know. Weird, in a good way.’

  ‘That makes two of us.’

  I caught myself smiling again. It felt good that the strange feelings I was having trouble understanding were at least being shared. ‘See you later, Zana.’

  ‘Don't be late! Kind of looking forward to the weekend.’

  I leaned back in the chair, closed my eyes. The nightmare of a few hours ago was diffusing now, replaced with images of the wonderful things that might happen over the next two days. That didn't last so long, the visions quickly replaced with the awful feeling of dread because of what else the trip away was about.

  Telling Zana the truth and then persuading her to stop the very bad thing she was doing, was terrifying me.

  Giving her the cold hard facts was bad enough. She would freak out for sure, but then what? Would she suddenly see the error of her ways, rush into my arms and tell me I was her heroine? Would I get a special commendation for bravery above and beyond the call of duty, and a once-in-a-lifetime smile from Duncan Scott?

  I laughed to myself. Not a very likely scenario.

  I was already beginning to realise my career with MI6 would soon be over, one way or another. Three weeks ago if that possibility had crossed my mind, I would have felt there was nothing worth living for.

  Now? Now I didn't even care.

  The cold hard facts I was about to lay out in front of Zana were no longer the only things on the table. Linking them all together were deep feelings and unexpected emotions that I knew were shared between the two of us. And that could mean only one thing.

  When she knew the truth, the what happened next was impossible to predict.

  I swept those dread-inducing thoughts away. It was all but a certainty Zana and me had little time left before our worlds caved in, so I was determined to make the most of it. I would tell her the truth over the weekend, but not before we’d taken the time to make some precious memories.

  Memories were probably all there would be left to hold onto in the not-too-distant future.

  It had to start with the right location. I closed my eyes again, a map of England flashing around my brain. It couldn't be close to London… we needed to be away, not just down the road.

  Suddenly I was back to my childhood, back in a time when the innocence of youth still allowed me to feel pleasure and happiness.

  And I knew just where to take Zana.

  My mother cleared off when I was six. I didn't know it then, but as I grew older I came to realise she'd never been much of a mum. My father had been the one responsible for most of the parenting that went on in our small terraced house in East London.

  My dad broke his heart when she left; went to pieces for two years, and I grew up very quickly in that time. I had to. While my dad was always there physically, most of the time he was a waste of space, and relied on his young daughter to hold things together.

  I smiled ruefully. Thinking back to that awful time, only now did I understand just how young I was when I decided feelings just got in the way of real life.

  Watching my father destroyed because of his love for a woman, eight-year old Madeline deWinter had, without knowing it, already made the decision she would never put herself through the same torment.

  But on my eighth birthday life at home suddenly changed. Something snapped in my father, and he came out the other side of his hell. And announced he'd booked the two of us a week's holiday.

  Little me was unsure when he said where. Seven days afloat on a motor cruiser on the Norfolk Broads sounded like hell. But I'd only been there a few hours and caught my first tiny fish when I knew I was going to enjoy the week.

  It was the best time of my life. My father was a changed man; we cruised everywhere, fished by day, fished by night, I drank orange juice and Coca Cola in the gardens of quaint riverside pubs until I was ready to burst, hooked up with new-found friends… and the awful time in the dark unwelcoming terraced house in East London was a million miles away.

  For years we took the same holiday, each time loving every day. Life back in London was getting harder as the suburb around our house went slowly downhill, and street gangs became a way of life. I grew harder too. For fifty-one weeks of the year my character matched the character of the streets where I lived. But my father was my dad again, the one restraining influence on a teenager who was starting to know only one way of getting through life.

  And for that one week in the year when we left the harsh reality behind, I breathed the clean air and laughed again.

  Now as a grown woman once more faced with harsh reality, there was only one place I could be with Zana.

  Chapter 32

  I pottered around the apartment packing a few things into a hold-all, humming away to myself. What? It might be way out of tune and never get past the audition stage on the X-Factor, but… singing?

  That was something else Madeline deWinter never did.

  An hour ago I'd trawled the internet and found the perfect place. A small elegant boutique hotel on the shores of Wroxham Broad. It was the middle of November and most of the holidaymakers had gone, so they had a few rooms to choose from. I'd studied the detailed individual room specs, made a selection.

  There you go Zana, I've taken control… now let's hope you approve!

  The packing was done. I called Coop, told him the weekend was on.

  ‘You gotta get something out of this, Maddie. Scott's pacing the room with a fucking evil scowl on his face.’

  ‘Nothing new there then, Coop.’

  ‘You ain't here trying to avoid his eyes.’

  ‘Kinda glad about that.’

  The big man let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘So just spare a thought for me while you're living it up in deepest darkest Norfolk, yeah?’

  ‘It’s a dirty job but someone's got to do it.’

  ‘Just make sure you do… do it. Things are boiling up here and all eyes are on you now.’

  ‘I hope you don't mean that literally.’

  ‘This time you're on your own, girl. Scott wants all available eyes on the other six, so you's got this one to yourself. Just come back with the goods, pretty please?’

  I assured him I would, without divulging the fact that the goods weren't exactly the ones DIAL had ordered. Although if things went the way I was silently begging them to, maybe everyone would get the delivery they wanted.

/>   If.

  Three hours before I was due to pick up Zana, I drove the BMW to the car wash, spent a while making sure it was spotless inside and out. It was dark by the time I finished vacuuming the carpets, a few specks of grey clouds beginning to punctuate the starscape above me.

  Driving the short distance back to the apartment, the clouds seemed to be getting thicker. I pulled a face, didn't want dark clouds and rain to spoil the clear blue sky I was hoping for.

  I brewed a last coffee, and sat a while contemplating the weekend. It was a bitter-sweet exercise; the anticipation of undisturbed passion and the closeness I knew would come was sweet indeed - but the dread of watching Zana freak out when I told her the truth was equal to that sweetness in its bitterness.

  But now it was time. I slung the hold-all over my shoulder, grabbed the car keys and headed for the door. As I closed it behind me, the dull ache was back in my gut, just for a second or two.

  The thought had just occurred to me that the next time I saw the apartment, things would surely be very different.

  Chapter 33

  I pressed Zana's outside buzzer. ‘Come up,’ she said curtly as the door to the foyer clicked open. I thought I heard a man's voice in the background.

  At the door to her apartment I knew I was right, two voices were talking loudly inside. I listened for a few seconds before pressing the buzzer. The conversation was in a foreign language so I couldn't understand what was being said, but the tone was clear enough.

  They were arguing, and from the sound of it a pretty heated debate.

  Zana opened the door. ‘This is Arik, a work colleague,’ she said sharply. ‘Don't worry, he's just leaving.’

  She threw an evil glance at the man standing next to the sofa, I smiled a brief greeting. I knew who he was; DIAL’s mug-shots of the seven meant Arik wasn't difficult to recognize. Long straight hair falling below his shoulders framed a bony, gaunt face… the kind that would have no trouble scaring kids on Halloween. Eyes that were as black as his hair glared back at me; he made no attempt to acknowledge my forced smile. He spat out a few words at Zana in his own language, and she answered him with a few more words that were clearly not very pleasant.

  The look he gave me as he walked through the open door was pure evil. I threw back another false smile, and Zana slammed the door behind the angry man.

  ‘What was that all about?’ I grinned.

  ‘I could use a hug,’ she replied.

  I wrapped my arms around her, felt her melt into me gratefully. ‘Nice guy,’ I said, more than a hint of sarcasm in the tone.

  ‘He's an idiot.’

  ‘I heard you two arguing from the hallway.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She kissed me softly. ‘No idea he was going to turn up.’

  ‘Jealous ex-boyfriend?’ I laughed. ‘That look he gave me should have turned me to stone!’

  ‘Ex-boyfriend? Don't be ridiculous, can hardly stand to look at him these days. Gives me the creeps.’

  ‘He'd fit in well in a movie involving chainsaws.’

  She laughed then. ‘You should see him in the lab with magnification glasses on.’

  I grimaced. ‘That, sadly, is an image that will stay with me for a long time.’

  Zana walked to the sofa, picked up a red weekend case. ‘Forget him, we've got better things to do.’

  ‘Nothing you want to tell me?’

  She sighed. ‘Not really. He thinks he knows best, reckons I should be with one of my own people, that's all.’

  ‘Take it he's from Calandura too.’

  ‘Yes.’ She marched towards the door. ‘You taking me away, or have I spent seven hours packing for nothing?’

  I raised my eyebrows at the size of the weekend case in her hand, she giggled beautifully, and we closed the apartment door and headed to the car.

  Chapter 34

  The miles ramped up quickly, the smooth serenity of the BMW deceiving the sense of time. Ed Sheeran sang his heart out to us in quadraphonic sound, quite appropriately as we were heading to East Anglia. It didn’t seem enough time has passed when we filtered onto the A14 at Cambridge and headed east. A half-hour later the petrol stations and cafes of the Mildenhall junction came into view, and I remembered this was the point the four-lane highway narrowed to a single carriageway.

  Not anymore. The old road that used to be a nightmare bottleneck had been replaced with a brand new dual carriageway. It had been many years since I'd travelled this road, and even in the darkness it all looked very different to when I came each year with my father. It didn’t stop my heart beating harder. Even after all that time, the countryside with its quaint villages and forests brought back wonderful memories.

  We hit the bypass skirting the south of Norwich and turned right; two minutes later I caught myself smiling as we drove past a big brown sign that shone out brightly in the BMW's halogen headlamps.

  A big arrow pointed straight on, and underneath were the words 'The Broads', and an icon of a sailing boat.

  Zana noticed the smile. I hadn't said where we were going, but now I explained why I'd chosen Norfolk, and all about the childhood holidays with my father.

  She seemed to understand exactly how I felt, smiled warmly and took my hand. ‘It's nice to know something about your past,’ she said.

  I smiled back. ‘It would be nice to know a little of yours too.’

  Her head lowered. ‘I know, Madeline,’ she said quietly.

  The wipers switched themselves on as light rain began to hit the windshield. That only lasted a minute before it changed. I peered closely at the drops on the glass. ‘It's snowing,’ I said, in a slightly disbelieving way.

  Zana's face lit up. ‘Snowing? Oh…’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I've never seen snow, not for real.’

  My heart skipped a beat again. I'd wanted clear blue skies and starry nights, but maybe this was even better. I began to urge it to snow heavier, although I knew it was really too early in the year for anything more than the odd flurry.

  But someone was listening to me. By the time the overgrown village of Wroxham loomed out of the murk and I threw a right turn onto the road that led to the hotel, the snow was like a fog and everything was starting to turn white.

  Zana's face was a picture, her eyes darting everywhere like a child at Christmas. And as I turned into the hotel's drive and carefully negotiated the winding, tree-lined road to the forecourt of the nineteenth-century building, it looked like a Christmas card scene.

  ‘Oh Madeline…’ she gasped.

  'Thank you,' I said to myself, but aimed at whoever it was who had given the weekend the perfect start.

  The car had hardly stopped moving before Zana was out of the door, spinning around in the snow with her arms outstretched and her face pointing at the sky so the big flakes could fall onto her skin.

  ‘Isn't this amazing? Did you order this just for me?’

  ‘Told you I was taking control,’ I grinned as I grabbed our bags from the rear seat.

  ‘I bow to your awesome power!’ she giggled, still spinning.

  I watched her excitement, feelings I couldn't describe making me want to burst. ‘Are you going to spin around until you fall over?’

  ‘Can we sleep out here?’ she laughed.

  ‘You can… I'm going inside before I freeze.’

  ‘Aw, spoilsport. I want a snowball fight!’

  I grabbed her hand as it came spinning round to me. ‘There's not enough snow for that… maybe tomorrow if it keeps up.’

  The warmth from the log fire burning away in the stone fireplace set in one wall of the reception area felt like heaven as we walked through the old oak door, Zana with her arm looped into mine, still giggling like a child. I managed to get her to the reception desk.

  ‘Madeline deWinter,’ I smiled a greeting to the girl sitting there. ‘This here crazy snow-queen is Zana.’

  ‘Good evening to you both,’ the girl replied, checking the registration book. ‘You've reserved M
ichael's Room I believe.’

  ‘Ooh, isn't he using it this weekend?’ Zana laughed.

  The girl smiled, perhaps a little sympathetically. ‘All of the rooms are named after members of the staff. Would you like a few minutes to settle in before the porter brings your food?’

  ‘Food? Oh good, I'm starving!’ said Zana.

  The receptionist smiled again, a sympathetic one for sure this time. ‘Your friend ordered a sandwich platter in the room.’

  Zana giggled. ‘Come on then, friend… take me and feed me!’

  I shook my head with a grin, signed the register and dragged an intoxicated-looking Zana towards the staircase as she sang 'Let it snow, let it snow let it snow…' in a husky voice.

  ‘How much have you had to drink?’ I laughed as we climbed the stairs.

  ‘Not a drop,’ she said firmly. ‘Just under the influence of happiness!’

  I knew how she felt, but as I turned the key in the lock I couldn't help wishing she'd chosen something else to sing than the closing song from the movie Die Hard.

  That didn’t end too well for the bad guys.

  Chapter 35

  ‘Oh Madeline…’ Zana repeated herself as she stood just inside the room drinking in her surroundings.

  ‘That's the second time you've said that in ten minutes.’

  She turned to me, looped her arms around my neck and kissed me softly. ‘Oh Madeline… aren't you a clever girl? That's three times now.’

  ‘I did good then?’

  ‘It's perfect.’

  It was perfect. Dominating the room was a white-painted traditional four-posted bed with all-white bedcovers and thick feather pillows. A big Georgian window overlooked the manicured sloping lawns leading down to a tiny wood, just hiding the broad itself from view.

  Sumptuous blue patterned drapes which looked thicker than the duvet lined the window, an intricate fabric pelmet looping across the top. Old oak free-standing wardrobes sat against one wall, a dressing table on queen-anne legs sitting between them. Two upholstered fireside chairs and a round coffee table had been positioned by the window, and a white and gold chandelier hung from the ceiling.

 

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