by Tony Walker
"He's a K3 officer."
Norman blustered and his face went red. "Bloody K3? They'd better not be stepping on my turf without notice. I know they're cowboys- bloody SIS - but they can't operate in Ireland without notifying me and the Garda."
"He's a Security Service officer."
"Well he should know better then. I don't agree with joint sections. We have our ways and they have theirs. We are methodical. They are opportunists."
"And this is a gathering place for PIRA members?"
"Yes. Hardcore."
"Do you mind if I take the photograph Norman?" she said.
"You can take a copy but I want the original back."
"Of course."
"I'm going to speak to K3 about this," said Norman
"No, Norman. I'd rather you didn't. Please leave it to me. I will press home all your concerns. Between you and me this officer is a bit of a maverick. He'll get his comeuppance though, don't you worry."
Sue caught John the next morning. She went up when he was alone in the K3 office. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee from the percolator and getting ready to leaf through his in tray.
"Good morning John," she said. "Could I have word?"
"Do I have to?"
Sue smiled. "No, I could talk to K3 about it."
He paused - weighing her up. Then he snapped, "What is it?"
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Will this take long?"
"No, I shouldn't think so." She sat in his seat and put the brown envelope she had brought with her on his desk while she picked up the photograph of him and Karen with the girls taken when they were up in Scotland. "You all look very happy."
"We are."
"Pleased to hear it. Could I have a cup of coffee?"
John frowned but turned to the coffee percolator and selected a mug. "Milk?" he asked.
"Yes. Thank you."
He poured her a coffee and put the mug down in front of her with bad grace.
"Two sugars please."
"Can you get them yourself?"
"No, I'd rather you did."
He looked her in the eye and said, "What's this all about Sue? I have an agent to meet at 10:30."
"Sugar please?"
He took the mug and put two spoonfuls of sugar from the stainless steel jar by the percolator. He carefully made sure he didn't fish out the irregular brown lumps from where someone had spilled coffee into the sugar and stirred them into her mug. "Thank you."
"What's this about?" he said again.
"John, where were you a week last Monday?"
"Do you need to know that?"
She shrugged. "I merely thought an explanation might save you a lot of trouble."
"Trouble?" said John remembering exactly where he'd been.
"I ask again - where were you last Monday?" She looked meaningfully at the brown envelope she had placed on his desk. He didn't know what it contained but she seemed very smug.
"I was in Dublin," he said.
"Ah, in Dublin. Business or pleasure?"
"Do you need to know?"
"I can ask K3."
"I was on leave."
"A pleasure trip then. Nothing to do with work?"
He shook his head. "Nothing to do with work."
She laughed lightly. "Make any friends while you were there?"
"Not especially."
"Really?"
"Really."
She picked up the picture of him with his wife and children. "You look so happy," she repeated.
"Can you put that down please."
"Of course. A happy marriage is a very precious thing, isn't it?"
"What on earth are you driving at?"
She said, "We've got a photograph."
His heart turned to ice. There was no way he could have been photographed with Bebur. Not unless the room was rigged by the Garda. "You'd better spit it out Sue. I'm not enjoying your cat and mouse rigmarole."
"Of course." She opened the envelope and pulled out a photograph of him and Eithne where Eithne was holding his lapels on a dark rainy Dublin night. He felt relief and tried not to let it show.
"Do you know who she is?" asked Sue.
"What does that mean?"
"I mean do you know she is an IRA sympathiser?"
He shook his head.
"You went with her to the Gaelic Club. Why are you meeting IRA sympathisers in Dublin?"
"If you think I'm working for the IRA, you're fucking stupid."
"No need to get snappy John."
"What on earth would I help the IRA for?"
"You explain why you were in the Gaelic club with this Eithne Ní Dhubhghaill" She butchered the pronunciation of her name.
"I met her in a bar. I just went where she took me. I'd had a few drinks."
She shook her finger theatrically. "The tail wagging the dog, or was it another part of you leading?"
"Don't be coarse."
"I don't think you have any room to take the moral high ground. You're an adulterer." Her voice had become shriller.
John realised then that they did not know Eithne hadn't come back to his room, which meant his room was not bugged, and so they almost certainly didn't know about Bebur.
"If you say so. Why don't you leave now?"
"Does your wife know you went to Dublin to pick up women?" She gave him a lingering, bitter smile. "You really are a piece of work John."
"Why don't you go and fuck yourself you dried up bitch."
Sue went red in the face. She shouted. "You filthy little pig. I will ruin you. How dare you talk to me like that. I'll make sure your wife sees this photograph."
"You'll reveal a photograph taken by a secret source to my wife? If you do I'll make sure you get prosecuted for breaking the Official Secrets Act."
"Don't you threaten me."
"Don't try and blackmail me. Go. I've finished with you."
Not immediately afterwards but soon, Sue found her way to where Joe Swain was reading a surveillance report on one of his targets. She was carrying a brown envelope stamped TOP SECRET in red ink in her right hand. His feet were up on the chair opposite. Like a guilty schoolboy he pulled them down when Sue came into the room. He realised one of his socks had a hole in the toe. "Oh, don't worry about that," she said with a friendly smile that she had practised in the restroom mirror minutes before.
"Hi, Sue. How you doing?"
"Very well thank you Joe. You've integrated very well into our Service. How long before you go back?"
"About eight months left. Then I have a posting in Ottawa."
"Well we'll be sorry to see you go."
"You've still got eight months of me," he smiled. "What can I do you for?"
She went over and closed the office door. "Just for extra privacy you know. I'm glad I've caught you alone."
"Oh?" he frowned. "Sounds serious. I'm not in trouble am I?"
"Goodness no." she giggled, "Perish the thought! You are known for your moral rectitude. We're very pleased with you."
"I'm pleased that you're pleased."
She assumed a serious expression. "It's a very grave matter, Joe. Do you prefer Joe or Joseph?"
"My grandmother calls me Joseph. Joe's fine for everyone else."
"Good. Well Joe. " She smiled at him. "I need you to sign this." She put down the envelope on the table in front of him and pulled out a piece of paper.
"What is it?" he said suspiciously.
"It's top secret."
"I can see that."
"You need to sign it."
"I do?"
"Yes. Please."
He leaned over and signed the indoctrination list. It was for an operation called PIBROCH. Then he looked up and said, "So what is it - PIBROCH?"
"Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Sure go ahead. I don't own the chairs." And he added with a smile, "But if I did, you still could."
"Very gracious, Joe. Now, we have information that the KGB have turned one of our officers i
n K3."
"You're shitting me," he said, looking visibly shocked.
"Oh, no I'm not." She said, pausing for dramatic effect. "And we need your help - we being the FLUENCY committee - a joint committee of the Security Service and SIS."
He sat back. He regarded her cautiously. "What's my part in this?"
"A very important part. You know who it is. You're a friend of his."
"You think so? And if that's true - what if my loyalty to my friends is stronger than my loyalty to this." he pointed at the paper he had just signed. Sue was silent for a second.
"Tell me," he said. "Who is it? I'm friends with nearly all the K3 officers."
"John Gilroy."
He shook his head. "No, I don't believe you."
"We have information from a delicate reliable source."
"Then the KGB are setting him up."
"You're a nice man Joe. I don't think you have any duplicitousness in you. You haven't suspected what a swine John Gilroy is. He has sadly taken you in because of your good nature."
"Bullshit."
She looked taken aback. "Well, I'm sorry you feel like this."
"I know him. You don't."
"Do you know he's having an affair with Ailsa McInnes? She's a married woman."
"And is that from a delicate and reliable source? Or is it just tittle tattle?"
Sue was getting flustered. "I said it to show he is without honour."
"So if you're absolutely convinced that John is spying for the Soviets, why haven't you had him arrested?"
"Because we don't work like that- because we believe in the rule of law. We need evidence."
"So where do I come in?"
"A minor part. But an essential one." She jumped on the chink in Joe's apparent immovability. "We want you to invite him and his family out for the day."
"And you'll follow us? That seems a bit unnecessary."
She shook her head. "No, no. Just to get them out of the house."
"So you can plant listening devices?"
"Yes, to gather essential evidence."
"Isn't that breaking and entering? I thought you believed in the rule of law?"
"We will obtain a warrant."
"Ah. That's the way the law works: flexibly."
"Will you do it?"
John looked at her long and hard. "I will. Because I know you will find no evidence to support your claims and then, when you haven't, I will do whatever I can to bring your personal campaign of hate against John Gilroy to those who can do something about it."
Sue blushed. "I don't hate John Gilroy. Not for personal reasons anyway."
"You hate him because he's a better intelligence officer than you. Because he's a better human being than you. And now if you've finished, I have work to do."
She was red faced. "I need to tell you when."
"You just drop me a line."
12th October, 1985, London: John and Karen met Joe and Angie at Regent's Park early on Saturday afternoon. Karen saw Joe walking towards them around the Inner Circle and waved briskly. As they got closer John could see Angie was beaming broadly at Karen. They had become good friends. He and Karen had a twin each in a sling in front of them. Eilidh was looking around crossly, at least as much as she could, being only able to see what her father's chest didn't block out. Angie came up and gave Karen a big kiss. She leaned up to John and said, "I won't hug you. I don't want to squash the baby."
Joe nodded in greeting. "How you doing buddy?"
"Not too bad old man. Not too bad."
"Why don't you take Eilidh?" asked Karen. "Give Eilidh to Angie, John." John smiled and with Angie's help managed to transfer the baby to her. Eilidh started crying.
"Oh babba. Don't cry. Auntie Angie's got you now," said Angie. "Oh Joe, can I have one of my own?"
Joe groaned. "When we get back to Ottawa. We don't want our kid born a Brit. No offence guys," he grinned at John and Karen.
"Dual citizenship could be useful," said Angie.
"I was joking. I don't mind if our son is British. I even like them," said Joe. Angie thumped his arm. "You two talk about babies and we can talk about man things," said Joe.
John walked a few paces ahead of the women alongside Joe.
"How's things anyway John?"
"Fine."
"Sure?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Ok."
"There's a puppet show on in the park today. Want to go see it?"
"The kids will like that. Can we get a beer somewhere?"
"I don't know in this benighted country. Maybe. I can't drink too much. I'm driving." Then he had a brainwave. "Hey Ange, want to drive?"
"What? You're allowing me to drive?"
"You always say you don't get to drive."
"Does this mean you want a beer?"
He grinned. "You read me like a book."
They walked leisurely through the park towards the Open Air Theatre. The weather was relatively warm. The leaves on the trees were yellow, red and gold. John paid for the tickets for everyone. Joe tried to object but John said, "Next time we go to a puppet show, you can pay. I promise."
They took their seats. John sat next to Karen who sat next to Angie. Joe was the far side from John. Karen linked her arm through John's. He felt himself stiffen slightly. She didn't seem to notice anything untoward. She said, "I know things haven't been so good between us recently."
He shrugged. "Every couple has their ups and downs."
"I know. I just don't want you to give up on me."
He said nothing.
"You've got every reason to be unhappy with me. I've been cold towards you. I still love you, you know." She nestled her head into his shoulder. "I've never loved anyone else."
He felt his eyes moisten. There was guilt in his stomach. He put his arm round her. "It's been hard Karen."
"I was talking to Angie. I'm sorry if I've not made you feel wanted and loved."
He hugged her tighter. He didn't dare speak.
"And I know the sex thing is a big deal. Maybe we could go to a therapist or something?" She looked at him wanting a response.
He shrugged. He didn't trust his voice.
"Maybe I could go. I know the problem's with me," she said. "I want to make us work," she said. "We've got the girls. I want them to be brought up with a mummy and daddy who love each other."
John sighed heavily. He turned his face away so that she couldn't his see his tears.
The puppet show was a kind of re-make of the Cats Musical but with puppets. It was hard to follow what was going on. Eilidh was engrossed in playing with Angie's long auburn locks. Angie was singing lullabies in a soft voice but Eilidh was too focused on her work to listen. Morag was asleep, dribbling against her mother's chest. Karen kept hugging John's arm tight and he looked ahead at the puppets but didn't see them.
Joe leaned into Angie and said something that she whispered to Karen. Karen in a fit of giggles whispered it to John. She said, "Joe says he can't bear any more, can we go and get a drink?"
John nodded. "Yes, the puppet show was a good idea on paper. Only on paper."
They got up. Karen held onto John and said, "I hope I haven't made you sad."
He said, "Come on let's go and find somewhere warm."
They wandered out of the park and found a pub near Baker Street Tube Station. Joe insisted on buying the drinks. Angie and Karen sat together with the babies.
"I don't mean to pry, John," said Joe, "but you don't look ok."
"You're not prying pal. But I'm fine."
"You and Karen seem to be getting along well."
John nodded. "Yeah, it looks that way."
"Ah," said Joe and looked down at his drink.
"She's the mother of my kids. She wants to make it work. We've got problems but which couple hasn't?"
"That's true."
"She doesn't want me to give up on her. So, I won't."
Joe looked at him searchingly but said nothing.
"I
know what you're thinking. About the other one."
"Yeah, I was."
"She's got under my skin. I'm obsessed with her."
"It's just a crush."
"Maybe. Do you believe in soul mates?"
"Maybe. If I did, me and Angie would be soul mates. Destined to be together since before time and stuff." He grinned.
"That's the way I feel about Ailsa."
"It's a fantasy. That kind of love is a sort of madness: it bends reality and makes chance seem meaningful. But it's not. Trouble is you don't find that out until the madness lifts and you realise you've set a flame thrower to the life you had before."
John sighed heavily. "I know I've got to end it. But I don't want to."
"I hesitate to give you advice, buddy. But you have to. Ailsa's... well I can see the attraction. She's funny and clever. She looks like she could be on the cover of Vogue and I bet she fucks like a bunny." He held up his hand. "Don't tell me. It's best I don't know."
John said, "I don't know whether to laugh or punch you."
"Laugh. It's easier on the soul," said Joe.
"And your point is?"
"My point is that you and her - a life together. It's a fantasy. She's..."
"Out of my class?"
Joe shrugged. "I don't mean to be mean. But she's from a different world. Daddy's a millionaire. Mummy jets round the world and knows Sarah Ferguson and Princess Di. You're just a regular guy."
"So I'm supposed to accept the social status quo? Know your place and all that?"
"You won't find fucking Ailsa advances world revolution."
John stepped back. He looked angry. The women looked up. Joe put his hands up in peace. "I'm trying to be your friend."
John took a breath. He downed his pint glass. "Let's get another," he said.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I don't want you to start swinging punches. Maybe a lemonade shandy?"
John laughed. The women were relieved and went back to the babies.
Joe ordered more drink. "I get it," said Joe. "I remember back in the day in the kitchen in Moscow how we were going to be free spirits and sock it to the man. Is that what Ailsa is? Getting one over on her privileged husband?"
"She's not a possession. She's a person. And I'm in love with her."
"Ok. But you've got to end it. For your children's sake."
"It's such a fucking mess," muttered John and took a gulp of his beer.