The Hornbeam Tree

by Susan Lewis

  He looked at Michelle. ‘Does that work for you?’ he said.

  Before Michelle’s loyalties started tearing themselves asunder, Katie said, ‘It’s OK, consider yourself off the hook for a couple of days, because the three remaining boxes of photo albums that my daughter is insisting we trawl through can always wait. No, honestly, they can,’ she insisted as Michelle started to laugh, ‘and I’m sure Tom would enjoy taking a little jaunt down our memory lane too, so let’s not deprive him.’

  His eyes were shining with laughter as Michelle groaned and Molly grinned. ‘I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather go,’ he responded. ‘Katie in plaits and Michelle in hot pants, how could I not?’

  ‘It’s Mum in hot pants that does your head in,’ Molly informed him, and yelped as Katie started to tickle her.

  It was an hour or so later, afraid of putting too much of a strain on Katie who’d manage to stage a valiant performance for most of the evening, that Michelle and Tom finally left the apartment to walk back across Tower Bridge to the hotel.

  ‘So are you really OK with this change of plan?’ Michelle asked, as he drew her to him so they could walk closely together along the cobbled street of Shad Thames.

  ‘It’s growing on me all the time,’ he admitted, ‘and, frankly, it was never really going to work out the way we intended. The best-laid plans never do. And maybe I’ve got a better chance of persuading everyone I’m as patriotic as the next man if I present the case in person. I just wonder how far we’ll get before an injunction’s slapped on us.’

  ‘We’ll keep going until it is, and if it happens we’ll deal with it then,’ she replied.

  He was quiet as they mounted the steps up to the bridge, then pulling her in tighter to him as the full strength of the wind caught them, he said, ‘Meanwhile, we’ve got other things to think about, like when we’re going to get married. I guess it can’t be until this is over, but do you have any dates in mind?’

  Loving the determination of his words and protective feeling of his arm, she closed her eyes for a moment and let him lead her on in the darkness. ‘How would you feel,’ she said finally, ‘if instead of getting married when this is over, we do something special for Katie and Molly instead? I mean, we can tie the knot any time, but Katie’s got a birthday coming up and it would be nice to mark it for her, don’t you think?’

  ‘Of course,’ he responded. ‘Do you have something in mind? Shall we take them away somewhere?’

  ‘If things were different I’m sure Katie would love an exotic adventure, but even coming to London for the night was making her anxious. She’s a lot weaker than appearances suggest now, so she likes to be near her own bed, in case she doesn’t feel good. Which means if we do something, it has to be close to home, and Molly’s come up with an idea that she wants to tell you about herself.’

  Feeling pleased that Molly considered him worthy of special attention, he said, ‘She seemed on pretty good form today.’

  ‘She’s OK,’ Michelle answered. ‘She has her down times, obviously, and it could break your heart to see the state she gets into, but what can you expect? They’re extremely close the two of them, and no matter how much we try to prepare Molly, nothing’s ever going to make this easy.’

  Hearing the emotion in her voice, he hugged her in tighter and pressed his lips to her hair. ‘It won’t be for you either,’ he said gently. ‘Actually, for any of us, considering the impact your sister makes, but Molly’s the one who matters. I guess now’s not a good time to talk to her about where she wants to live after, though we’ll have to get something sorted.’

  ‘Katie’s fairly certain she’ll want to come back to London. The cottage will always be hers, obviously, and everything in it, but if she does decide she wants to stay in the country, would that be OK with you?’

  ‘We’d have to buy a bigger place,’ he said, ‘but I’m happy to be wherever you are, so a house in the country, a flat in London, or both, it all works for me. Though right now, I’m focusing on a riverside hotel which looks just the perfect setting for you to slip into some new underwear I think you got today – and me to check out how well I did on size.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  GOING BACK TO school didn’t turn out to be as bad as Molly feared, though it was like, really embarrassing when the teacher made everyone clap and chorus, ‘Welcome back, Molly,’ when she walked in the class. She’d just wanted to curl herself up in her Prada purse and zip herself in when that happened. Still it was all right after, because amazingly no-one took the mickey out of her, or said anything nasty – in fact, they were all really friendly. She had a feeling Rusty had told them about her mum, so they were all like, feeling sorry for her now, but she didn’t say anything, because she didn’t want to talk about that to anyone – it was none of their business, and anyway she’d only end up crying.

  Rusty was hanging around her all the time now, but she supposed that was OK. She was still horrible to him, but he never seemed to mind, he just blinked out through those jam-jar glasses like he didn’t really get it, and then did a scary smile with his braces and teeth. Actually, only she was allowed to be mean to him. If anyone else was, she just got hold of his arm and walked him away, and now no-one was really being that bad to him any more. Her mum and Michelle kept saying she should invite him round for a meal, but no way was she going to do that – he might start thinking he was her boyfriend, or something, and like, no way. Brother maybe, because he’d be kind of cool to have on tap doing her homework, but boyfriend – puhleeze. Anyway, he couldn’t be her brother either, because her cousin Robbie would sort of be that, if he came to live with them, but him and Rusty would probably get on, so Rusty wouldn’t be left out. It was just a shame they were both boys, because she wouldn’t mind having a sister, and even if Michelle’s baby turned out to be a girl, she’d be like, much too young. So Molly was considering suggesting to Michelle that she and Tom could maybe like, adopt one of the Afghan girls from the camp where Michelle used to work. It seemed the kind of thing they’d do, and Tahira, who Molly had been emailing lately, who was thirteen and like dead pretty and didn’t have any family and would really love to come to England, could come and live with them.

  Anyway, Molly didn’t really think very much about that, only now and again when her mind wandered off on its own, but then she’d remember her mum wouldn’t be there when all that happened, and then everything came to a stop, because she didn’t want to think about her mum going anywhere without her, even though she knew she had to.

  Michelle was like, really cool now Molly was getting to know her, and Tom was just awesome, though he’d gone off to Washington yesterday to see some senators or congressionals or something, and Molly wasn’t sure when he’d be back. She understood some of the story he was working on, but it was quite complicated really and impossible to keep up with, because all the filming was happening while she was at school. Laurie had taken some shots of her too though, strolling in the woods with her mum and Trotty, having breakfast together, and even doing some homework together the other night. She was going to make a special copy of that for Molly to keep. It was all going on in their house at the moment, something always happening, or someone always there – Molly just hoped she and Michelle managed to get on the computer tonight, so they could carry on with their arrangements to make one of her mum’s dreams come true in time for her birthday.

  Now, she was just getting off the bus on her way home from school, when she heard someone calling out to her. She looked round, frowning against the sun, then her heart turned over as she saw Allison Fortescue-Bond standing on the other side of the road. Immediately Molly started to walk on.

  ‘Molly, please can I talk to you?’ Allison shouted. ‘It won’t take long.’

  Molly was horribly torn. She really wanted to run away, but for some weird reason she was starting to feel sort of sorry for Allison. She must be feeling a bit stupid standing over there shouting and being ignored, which was no more than she
deserved, but in the end Molly decided that maybe there wasn’t any harm in at least finding out what she had to say. So, after waiting for a cyclist to whizz by, she crossed the street, keeping her expression set on hoity even though she could see that Allison wasn’t about to pick a fight, and when she got to the other side she said, ‘Well? What do you want?’

  Allison turned a deep shade of red as she said, ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what we did. It was horrible and mean and like, I never really wanted to do it, but I know that’s not a good enough excuse, and I shouldn’t have laughed that night when Brad came in, I was just drunk and stupid and …’ She took a breath. ‘Anyway, my mum says I should have stopped Cecily and Donna coming to the house, because you’re a nice girl and didn’t deserve to be treated like that, while they’re like, all screwed up and … Well anyway, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, not just because my mum says I have to, and that I can’t have my computer or DVD or anything back again until I do, but because I like …’ She shrugged, ‘Well like, I really miss you, and you were like, my best friend, and I don’t have anything to do with Cecily and Donna any more, not even at school. So I was like, hoping that you like, might, you know … If you want to, that is. Anyway, even if you don’t, I’m still sorry and wish we’d never done that horrible thing to you.’

  As she finished Molly let her eyes drift off across the road to where Kylie and Greta were watching, then she was looking at kind of nowhere as she started to say, ‘I’m not into hating my mum any more. I mean, I never really hated her anyway.’

  ‘No, I know,’ Allison said. ‘I don’t suppose I hate mine either, I just wish she didn’t always get so drunk.’

  Molly’s eyes came to hers. ‘If you want us to be friends again then you’d better come to my house to make sure it’s all right.’

  Allison nodded. ‘Can I come now?’ she asked.

  Molly shrugged. ‘OK. I’d better just go and tell my other friends that I’ll see them in school tomorrow.’

  A few minutes later Katie stared in blank astonishment as Molly waltzed into the kitchen with Allison Fortescue-Bond behind her – but even more unexpected was the litany Allison immediately stumbled into.

  ‘I’ve come to apologize, Mrs Kiernan,’ she said, ‘to you as well as to Molly. I’m really, really sorry for what happened. Molly’s the best friend I ever had, and I know I don’t deserve to have any friends after what I did, but if you’ll let me have another chance, I promise I won’t ever do anything like it again. I even promise to go away and never come back if that’s what you say I have to do. I just would really like to have Molly as my friend again, even though I know I don’t deserve to have any friends after what I did. She’s like, really cool, and my mum says she always liked Molly best of everyone. And I do too.’

  Katie had no chance to respond before Molly said, ‘Allison doesn’t see those girls any more, Mum, except in school, but she doesn’t have anything to do with them there either, and it was all them really.’

  Katie turned back to Allison, still blinking at the speed of the reconciliation, though touched by how much Allison seemed to value her friendship with Molly. ‘I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t angry about what you did to Molly,’ she said carefully, ‘you caused her a lot of hurt. However, it’s not easy to say you’re sorry, and you’ve just done a pretty good job of it, so if Molly’s prepared to forgive you, I am too. Just no more secret cults or bogus boyfriends … All right, all right,’ she protested, as Molly leapt on her and started to dance her round.

  ‘Thank you, Mum. Thank you, thank you,’ Molly cried. ‘Where’s Michelle? She’s got to meet Allison properly now. You wait,’ she told Allison, ‘Michelle’s like, really cool. Not a bit like I thought …’

  ‘Spare my blushes out there,’ Michelle shouted from the sitting room, where she and Laurie were viewing some of the rushes.

  ‘Come on,’ Molly demanded, grabbing Allison and dragging her across the kitchen. ‘Oh, and me and Michelle have got like this surprise we’re planning …’ She glanced at Katie. ‘I can’t tell you what it is now, but it is like, so cool, isn’t it Michelle?’

  ‘The coolest,’ Michelle confirmed, ‘even Tom thinks so, and he wants you to call him later, because he has something to ask you.’

  ‘Tom is just like, amazing,’ Molly told Allison. ‘You’ll meet him when he comes back. He knows everything and everybody and Laurie’s making a programme about him … Well, actually it’s about Mum, but Tom’s in it too. Anyway, this is Michelle, who’s my auntie, but I just call her Michelle.’

  As Katie watched from the kitchen she could feel a lump forming in her throat but she continued to smile, for it was doing her heart so much good to see how everyone was closing in around Molly now, as though absorbing her into a protective realm of love and support and everything she needed to keep her going and carry her through. It was exactly what Katie had hoped and prayed for, and she felt especially moved by Allison’s return, for everyone needed a best friend, and Katie had sensed how much Molly was missing hers, even though she hadn’t wanted to admit it. So the time was almost right for Katie to let go now. She sensed that as clearly as if someone was telling her. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but she was becoming tired in a way she hadn’t been before, and strangely peaceful, in spite of the pain. She just wanted to hang on for the grand surprise Molly was planning, and to share with Molly the very special gift she had for her too.

  Had Tom been a more impressionable man, the number of senior officials who’d passed through the rather unassuming front door of his Adams Morgan apartment this past week might have dazzled him. The town was buzzing with rumours, largely fed by Max, though Tom had yet to confirm or deny any of them, but that wasn’t stopping anyone wanting to get their own take on what they’d heard.

  Elliot was in Washington too, helping keep track of what was being said and by whom. At the same time they were preparing a series of articles to run in The New York Times and Los Angeles Times to coincide with Laurie’s programme, for they’d taken the decision not to sign the latest agreement that had turned up two days ago, that would stop them going to press.

  ‘They’ve got to know they can’t contain this now,’ Tom had said after reading the contract through. ‘It’s gone too far, it’s being talked about all over, so this here doesn’t amount to any more than some last-ditch posturing.’

  ‘Then we ignore the injunction and wait for their next move,’ Elliot had responded.

  There had been no word since, not even a call from the lawyers. So now they were pushing ahead, seeking as many quotes and opinions as they could get from experts in the fields of defence, military and intelligence, while still half-expecting someone to storm in through the door any minute and march them off in cuffs.

  ‘Did you see this fax from Farukh?’ Tom asked, glancing up from where he was slumped on a battered blue sofa surrounded by papers and half-eaten cartons of Nepalese food. ‘He’s hired himself a film crew in Karachi and he’s already got interviews with a couple of the fundamentalists who are claiming to have been approached in this. They’ll say anything to hurt America, we know that, but it’s still going to make for some uncomfortable viewing in certain quarters here, and Laurie’s going to have one helluva programme on her hands.’

  ‘Then let’s just hope the British government doesn’t step in to block transmission,’ Elliot remarked, looking at his mobile as it started to ring.

  ‘Do you think that’s likely?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Actually, no,’ Elliot responded, and took the call.

  A few minutes later, having said very little, he rang off and turned back to Tom. ‘Well, that’s just gone some way to endorsing one of my favourite theories,’ he remarked.

  Tom was intrigued.

  Elliot’s expression was ironical as he said, ‘I think we’re agreed that our mysterious source has to be way up there to have access to the kind of information he has?’

  Tom nodded.

  ‘So
it’s an inside job to break the neo-con stranglehold on the Republican party?’

  Again Tom nodded.

  ‘The call I just took came from someone at a very high level in Downing Street, and though it wasn’t even close to a confirmation, my belief is that our own PM has been working behind the scenes with someone in Washington to help break that stranglehold.’

  Tom’s eyes widened, then narrowed. A moment later he started to grin. ‘It’s wild, but it makes sense,’ he declared. ‘The top man wants out from whatever agreements he’s made with those guys.’

  ‘Especially one that has the British people being exploited with a terrorist threat for American hard-right purposes,’ Elliot added.

  Tom was still weighing it up. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting he wasn’t even consulted on that,’ he stated, ‘which is why he’s got himself involved in a scheme to bring them down.’ He was shaking his head in amazement. ‘So who’s he been colluding with over here?’

  ‘It could be that even your top guy is finding it hard to stomach the neo-cons now.’

  Tom thought about that. ‘The ballast has turned into deadweight,’ he said. ‘Could be, because they’ve overplayed their hand badly this last couple of years, but he’s their boy, so I’d be more inclined to put my money on someone at the top of the intelligence services. It would be great payback for the way they’ve been forced to take the rap for everything from bad policy-making, to prisoner abuse, to outright government lies this past eighteen months.’

  Daniel Allbringer’s pallor was pinched as he walked beside Deborah Gough in the gardens at Langley.

  ‘… so, whereas on the one hand,’ she was saying, ‘we can claim to have done everything possible to contain and control this situation, I believe the time has now come to accept that the press injunction isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on, which means we can no longer avoid the battle being taken into the public domain. There are too many rumours, too much speculation and far too much pressure being put on us, as well as those we serve, to be able to rely on mere legal agreements to protect us from further media scrutiny.’