Last night she had wanted some personal understanding, not professional.
“I think I would have just liked a hug.” Flic could have sworn those words were only audible in her head, but the saddened expression on Anna’s face suggested otherwise.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s okay. I know you’re not the hugging type, and I’m perfectly fine this morning,” she added as Anna stepped awkwardly toward her and then retreated in the same uncoordinated movement.
Flic stared at the black plastic lid of her coffee. “I was scared, I guess. When I encounter bad guys, either they’re on the end of a computer or they’re contained within a piece I’ve written days before and long forgotten about. Physical confrontation isn’t my thing.”
“If it’s any consolation, you handled yourself well.” Anna stepped closer.
Flic smiled. “Other than pure fear, I really don’t remember much.”
As if overcome by a burst of confidence, Anna roughly grabbed Flic into a brief embrace, culminating with a manly pat on the back before she released her. Obviously not convinced her actions were adequately demonstrating the platonic nature of their relationship, Anna proceeded to whack Flic on the shoulder before saying, “Righto, champ. See you at eight.” She practically ran out the door.
Champ?
Flic flexed her aching shoulder.
*
Flic knocked on Anna’s door, only three doors down from her own. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t what greeted her. Spread on the dining table was a lavish breakfast, and Anna looked small curled up in the corner of her sofa, typing on her laptop. Considering the events of last evening, the picture was too serene, too contrived.
“What’s going on?”
Anna smiled and handed Flic a piece of paper. It was a press statement.
“Seems we have a couple of days off.” Anna gestured to the table and Flic sat.
“What?” Just when she’d psyched herself up for the grueling tour, it was stalled. All this stop-start business was driving her mad.
“Belfast is up in the air for tomorrow.”
Flic continued to read the press statement. “But I’m not seeking counseling for emotional distress, nor am I seeking the second opinion of a doctor today. Am I?”
“Five o’clock.”
“But I don’t need a doctor. All I have is a few bruises. Do you want to see them?”
Anna flinched as if she’d been asked to remove her own teeth with pliers. “We can’t ignore this opportunity, Flic.”
“Opportunity?” Anna remained silent. “What happened last night wasn’t an opportunity. It was a contrived assault. Should we really be milking it like this?”
Anna poured fruit juice for them both and helped herself to a croissant, offering the plate to Flic. “Do you know what my job is, Flic?” Her tone was light.
“Besides making my life miserable, yes. You’re here to make sure this all runs smoothly.”
Anna shrugged, ignoring the jibe. “Sort of. That role is a byproduct of my actual job.”
It was too early for Flic’s brain to function effectively.
“My job is to facilitate the sale of as many books as possible and make as much money as I can for Griffin’s.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
Flic shrugged. Maybe she didn’t.
“I have to make the most of these events, unfortunate or otherwise, when they occur.”
“So we’re going for the sympathy vote? Nerdy author ambushed by thugs, needs time off?”
“Something like that. Nevertheless, we do need to increase your security. We have Max arriving any time now to take on the job.”
Flic couldn’t shake the notion that Anna’s calmness unnerved her. “You didn’t arrange that little scene last night, did you?”
Anna laughed briefly but was clearly insulted. “I don’t engineer what happens, certainly not when you could be put in danger, that would rarely end well, but what I do know is how to turn just about any situation—”
“To your advantage. Yes, I know. I’ve heard it before.”
Anna looked perplexed. “What’s wrong?”
“I look pathetic. I’ve had one day on the job and now I’ve got two days off. Who’s calling these shots, you or Dee?”
“As I was saying, my job is to run with the line you’re giving about the pope and his sexuality, and I try to work everything to our advantage in the process, attempting to maximize our exposure and capitalize on our investment.”
Flic understood the concept, but yet again couldn’t reconcile the professional Anna with the personal one. “So, essentially, you disagree with my ideas, believe that Griffin’s shouldn’t have published my book, but by the same token, you’re doing your best to make sure it’s a best seller.”
“It’s my job.”
“It’s hypocritical.”
“I really think you need to get over this, Flic.”
“Me?”
There was a knock at the door. Anna was poised for a counter argument, but inhaled deeply and obviously reconsidered. She answered the door instead. A heavy silence filled the room until it was broken by a burly man lumbering in.
Again, Flic wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Perhaps she had visions of Kevin Costner from The Bodyguard, but Max looked more like Hagrid from Harry Potter, and he practically filled the room. His beard was unruly and his hair could have had something nesting in it for all anyone knew.
“Hello, love. I hear you’re being bullied a bit out there.” His accent was Northern, Yorkshire somewhere.
Flic liked Max immediately.
Anna explained that Max had flown in from Greece that morning—their urgent need for security meant he’d been recalled from his holiday.
“Excuse my lazy holiday look. Better things to do than shave.” Then he added in a softer voice, “Until now, anyway.”
Flic soon realized that Max’s physique wasn’t all it appeared. Underneath his substantial layer of holiday cheer, lay some impressive muscles.
He declined breakfast but drank three coffees as they discussed their requirements. With his vast experience in the armed forces, he provided some excellent solutions to already encountered and perceived problems and suggested exit and entry strategies for buildings and vehicles. Max requested he be informed of their daily movements and that, in public, Flic should follow his lead and follow his direction.
“You do realize the easiest way to avoid the problem you encountered last night was to not get yourself amongst the crowd in the first place?”
Flic lowered her head. Yes, she had realized this.
“Working smart doesn’t mean I protect you in a crowd. It means we avoid the crowds. It’s simple risk assessment and control.”
It made perfect sense. She just wished she’d given it more thought the previous evening.
“Right, ladies, I’ll leave you to it.” Max shook Flic’s hand. “Lovely to meet you, and trust me, we won’t have a repeat performance of last night. You’ll be fine from here on in.”
Anna handed him a USB drive. “It has our schedule and the details of every hotel, car hire company, et cetera, for the remainder of the tour. If you need anything else, just let me know.”
They arranged to meet again the following morning, but other than that, Flic expected Max would be off catching up on sleep and reading about her schedule for the next few hours.
The call to Dee was, Flic expected, for her benefit only. It was evident from the conversation that Dee and Anna had already spoken, probably numerous times, but Dee’s reassurance was welcomed, and by ten o’clock, Anna and Flic had just about exhausted all conversation.
“There’s a pool here.” Flic didn’t want to leave the hotel, but she wasn’t keen on spending time alone in her room either. She looked at Anna expectantly.
“I’ve got loads of work to do, sorry.”
“Oh, come on. Surely you have a measly hour of free t
ime?” Flic produced her tried and tested impersonation of a dog at the pound waiting for adoption.
Anna smiled but didn’t fall for it. “Give me an hour. If I’m finished I might come down.”
*
Flic floated in the pool and lazed in the steam room and sauna, but after two and a half hours, Anna still hadn’t surfaced. It bugged her that every time the door swung open she snapped up her head expectantly, but was disappointed when strangers entered.
Every time she thought of them in the changing room, dressing to return to their rooms after chatting easily and swimming in the pool, butterflies danced in her stomach. Flic wasn’t entirely sure where the attraction originated. It wasn’t as if Anna showed her any interest; she just hoped her thoughts were purely serving to distract her from last night’s mob attack.
Bored out of her brain and wrinkly from the pool, she eventually returned to her room for a nap before plucking up the courage to visit Anna. Bottle of wine in hand, she knocked purposefully on the door.
“Flic. Sorry I didn’t make the pool.” Anna glanced at the wine, but didn’t move from the doorway.
“That’s okay. Figured you must have been busy. But all work and no play makes Anna boring.” Flic waved the bottle around and internally cursed herself for saying something so ridiculous.
Anna stepped aside. “Have you been drinking already?”
Flic flopped on the sofa and groaned. “No.” She was beginning to wish she had. “It’s just so boring.”
Anna laughed.
“I can’t begin to think of the times I’ve dreamt of being stuck in a hotel with nothing to do. I’ve wished for those days—minibar, room service, pool, and little else to do but relax and enjoy—but I’m so Goddamn bored.”
“You can leave the hotel you know. Just take Max with you.”
It had crossed Flic’s mind, but after last night, she felt a little intimidated by the unpredictability of the outside world. Until last night, she embraced unpredictability and opportunity, but not today, maybe tomorrow.
“I’ve got some e-mails to reply to. Why don’t you turn on the TV and pick a movie for us to watch? I’ll only be about fifteen minutes.” Anna had softened.
Flic dismissed the notion that she was probably imposing on Anna and grabbed the remote.
“Wine?”
About to say no but obviously thinking better of it, Anna agreed.
Flic poured two glasses and selected a movie scheduled to begin in twenty minutes. She turned the volume down low and watched Anna work.
She was impressed by how easily Anna typed, how she regularly paused to read what she’d written, and how she could tell by the furrow on her brow or the slight haste with which she typed that she’d said something important or possibly creative.
Flic finished her first glass in minutes and wondered why she hadn’t had a little tipple the previous night to settle her nerves.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Anna cocked her head. “I guess. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer though.”
“Have you ever been in a long-term relationship?”
Anna’s eyes remained on her computer, but she shook her head.
“No. You?”
“I was in a civil partnership once.”
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“Why would you?”
“We make it our business to know about your life when we sign you to a tour like this,” Anna explained. “We knew you were gay and single. Things happened so quickly it must have been an oversight not to look more deeply.”
“Does it really matter? I mean, I’m an author, not running for PM.”
“If someone from our office digs around and finds out stuff about you that you haven’t told us, others can do that too. If we know it might rear its ugly head, we can be prepared for it.”
“Civil partnership, six years. Amicable separation and subsequent divorce. We’re friends now.”
Anna raised her eyebrows.
“Well, she lives in Newcastle, and we don’t see each other anymore, but we don’t hate each other either.”
“At least it wasn’t messy.”
No, it wasn’t messy. Compared to some of the dramas her friends encountered, her separation had been upsetting, but necessary. It had been the wisest option for two people who realized they were no longer lovers, but best friends.
Flic pounced on the opening. “So now you know the inside scoop on my significant relationship. Tell me about yours?”
Anna blushed. “I haven’t had one. Not a significant one.”
Flic wasn’t surprised. “So what’s your longest?”
Anna picked at the seam of her jeans. “A couple of months, I guess.”
“Closer to one month or two?”
“Five weeks.”
“A boy or girl?”
“What?” Anna leapt from the sofa.
The wine bottle was nearly empty, and even Flic was surprised she’d asked such a confronting question, but it was out there now. “I don’t mean to offend, but sometimes when people are a little homophobic—”
“Homophobic?”
“Well, only a little.”
“Just because I’m Catholic, doesn’t automatically mean I’m homophobic. I know I’m older than you, but it’s hardly an entire generation. What a ludicrous notion.” Anna was all over the room, evidently unsure what to do with herself.
“I don’t like to assume—”
“You don’t assume someone’s homophobic or not, Felicity.”
“No, I know. It’s just that when some people are a little uptight—”
Anna stared wide-eyed.
Flic wondered where it all went wrong and why was she still putting her foot in it?
“Anna, I’m sorry.” She recovered with a firm tone.
Anna released her clenched fists.
“I guess I’d wondered if your religious beliefs might be clouding your judgment on your sexuality. Or not so much clouding it, but perhaps making things difficult in your mind.”
“Why is it that all lesbians think single women are gay or in the closet?”
“Wishful thinking, I suppose,” muttered Flic.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.” Flic regrouped again. “I’m sorry I offended you.” In a show of friendship, Flic drew Anna into a hug and was surprised when Anna didn’t pull away. “You know it’s okay to be gay and Catholic, don’t you?” The words came out softer than she’d intended, and this time Anna did pull away.
“I’m not gay! You know there are factions of the Catholic Church that claim homosexuals try to recruit others? Well, you’re not doing anything to dispel that notion right now.”
“Recruit you? I was just saying, that’s all.”
Flic poured the remainder of the wine for Anna who took the glass reluctantly. “I believe in the Catholic Church’s view that homosexuality is unnatural. I don’t begrudge you the lifestyle you lead, nor do I think you are in any way a lesser person than me. I just don’t believe that being with someone of the same-sex is what God intended for us.”
“Do you agree with same-sex marriage?”
“I believe beyond the four walls and sanctity of the church, same-sex marriage is a personal choice.”
“But Catholics shouldn’t be gay?”
“No. Not if they have true faith.”
“And that includes the pope?”
“Especially the pope.”
Flic couldn’t argue with a belief. Faith was personal and Anna wasn’t suggesting she be lynched or anything archaic like that. She had to delve further. “Do you accept that people are born gay?”
Anna hesitated “I believe those with true faith would choose not to be gay.”
“Have you ever met a practicing Catholic homosexual?”
Anna ignored her. Eventually, she reached for the remote. “Come on. Are we watching this movie or not?” The conversation was shut down.
Flic reined in her questioning,
resigned to the fact that the conversation was too uncomfortable for Anna. Had she gone too far? Before Anna switched on the movie, they both stared at a familiar sight on the screen—the cover of Holy Father, Holy Secret.
The early edition local news was on, and the story centered on a stubborn few protestors who refused to leave the foyer of the hotel Flic had previously been staying in. She suddenly felt detached. What had been going on? Flic logged on to her social media sites on Anna’s computer only to be inundated with both support and heavy criticism. Her website alone had over five hundred thousand hits in the last twenty-four hours, and her inbox was full of messages, some of them positive and uplifting, others downright disturbing.
Anna peered over her shoulder. “Oh my goodness.”
Post after post, comment after comment, filled her news feed. Groups were forming and gathering momentum. Those with opposing views sent comments back and forth, and even those with similar views began infighting.
“I need to say something.” Flic was in shock. She couldn’t believe the speed of the escalating social media.
Anna quickly closed the computer. “I’ll gather my team together to deal with this.”
“I need to be the one who deals with it.”
“And it will look like you’re dealing with it. But this has happened so fast. We need to consider our response first.”
“We can’t just let these people write whatever they like. Some of that is pure evil and inciting violence!”
Anna rested a firm hand on Flic’s. “We can’t stop people writing a damn thing. That’s the downside of social media, but what we can do is formulate a measured response.”
Flic nodded and stared at their touching hands.
“If you could say anything, what would it be?” asked Anna.
Flic’s heart raced. “Love is love. The pope loves another human being. He happens to be a man. It’s as simple as that.”
Anna paced the room. “Let’s keep it simple. Remove the pope from our discussion, and go with your uncomplicated message—love is love.”
“But the pope is a part of this. How can you ignore that? It’s the premise of my book.”
Anna knelt before her, their eyes locked. “It’s not the premise for most of these idiots, though, Flic.”
The Fifth Gospel Page 9