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He takes a break, and we go down the high street for a coffee and some lunch, before it’s Jac’s turn.
By the end of the day, we’re both wrapped up tightly in steri-pads and cling film, bonded forever by the matching art on our bodies beneath them.
???
“I’ve never been so high. Is this what it’s like?”
St. Paul’s Cathedral and London Bridge were now far below them.
Jason laughed. “If I was this close to the ground in the middle of the city, I’d be panicking, believe me. But yeah, it’s pretty awesome. My absolute favourite thing is flying over The Alps to Turin.”
“That’s another place on my list.”
It had taken some persuasion to get Claire up onto the viewing deck of The Shard’s seventy-second floor. But now she could see the view, she was glad she’d come.
Jason had enjoyed the morning. They’d been to Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park and The Tower of London. He’d never done the tourist thing, and it was nice seeing the sights, especially with Claire, who’d never been to London before. It was like he was seeing everything for the first time.
There was something quirky about her. And attractive; with her dark hair and beautiful eyes. Like she belonged on a Pacific Island. Or in a Gaughan painting.
He could tell though, that she was still really conscious of that scar. Today, she’d tried to cover it up with makeup and her hair; but as they walked, he could see it plainly. The redness came back through, and he saw the pained look on her face as she subtly checked it in the reflection of shop windows.
Jac had explained to him how she’d got it. She’d been brave, fighting back like she did. He could see why Sion liked her.
She leaned up against the barrier.
“How did you meet Sion and Jac? ‘Cos you were in the RAF, not the army, right?”
“We were on operations. I flew the chopper. Mainly getting them out of sticky messes they’d gotten themselves into. Unless, Sion had other ideas, that was.”
“What d’ya mean?”
“He was the lead. One time, we were in… It doesn’t matter where we were, let’s just say it was hot and sandy. And we had to get an interpreter out of this town, right? The place had been taken over by insurgents and the interpreter was stuck there. He’d been in contact, giving us intel. And it was dynamite.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yeah. Dodgy as. The insurgents were twitchy, so we had to move fast before he got busted. It was on the news. They were chopping heads off and sticking them on spikes on the main road.”
“And, Sion went in?”
“Oh yeah. And Jac. They’d dropped in at night, undercover. But they couldn’t get close. They’d been under heavy fire, and I was pulling them out the next day. The insurgents were still shooting when we set down in the chopper, and I didn’t wanna stick around. They all evacced into the Apache, and I’m trying to get them the Hell outta there, when Sion tells me to veer back. It’s against my better judgement. But I do it, ‘cos Sion asked. So we hop around to the other side of the market square; and as soon as I set down, we see the interpreter dude running towards us. The guns fire up again; so Sion sprints out, grabs him by his coat and pretty much hurls him into the chopper. Under heavy fire.”
“Really! He sounds fearless.”
“Yeah. He was an amazing soldier. He saved the interpreter’s life that day.”
Claire shivered. The air was cold up here, even for July.
“Claire, he’d never kill a civilian. I know Sion. There’s no way he’d kill Glyn Evans.”
Claire shrugged a little sadly.
“I know that now. And it’s too late.”
He’d rubbed her nose in it, but she needed to know the qualities of the man she’d lost. He’d take her back down to ground level to find a coffee. And then, a stroll along the Embankment to Westminster.
Who knew what the future held? But, if there was anything he’d learned about his old mate Sion, it was that he never gave up. He always got what he wanted.
Eventually.
???
We’re making dinner when Jason and Claire get back to the flat. And, man, do they look whacked.
“Where’ve you been?”
“Everywhere,” Jason yawns.
“What’ve you done to him, Claire?”
Claire pulls off her trainer to examine a blister that’s forming on the back of her heel.
“I got my money’s worth, that’s all. Jase, you’re an awesome tour guide. London rocks!”
“It kinda fades on you after a while,” I tell her.
Jac glances across at me.
“Not sad you left, then?”
“Nah. These days I much prefer the mud and rain.”
“Ahh, you say that. But tell me, you don’t love it, when it’s just you in a field with the songs of the birds.”
“Hmm. You’re right. And no streetlights. A sky full of proper darkness, lit up only by the stars.”
Jac smiles at me. There’s no way either of us is ever leaving the farm.
When Callista and Sam arrive, Claire’s had a shower and packed her bag ready, and Jason’s been napping on the sofa like an old man. He really can sleep anywhere.
Callista’s new partner is much less flamboyant than Cal, more down to earth. She doesn’t say much, but when she speaks it’s full of sense. Jac likes her, and they chat together on the sofa, while Cal helps me finish off making the food.
“So, let me see this wonderful work of art, then.”
The bandage is off, so I slip my sloppy slash-necked t-shirt off my shoulder for her to see.
“D’you like it?”
“It’s fabulous, darling… Jac?,” she calls out from the kitchen, “Can you design one for me and Sam too?”
“You’re not getting me anywhere near a tattoo parlour.”
“Honestly, honey, you can be such a prude. You’re meant to be the artistic one!”
By the end of the meal, I can see that Cal’s endless travel tips have got Claire’s head spinning. She’s excited but getting a little anxious too.
“You don’t mind me saying, dear, but that looks very red. What’ve you been putting on it?”
Claire flinches at Cal’s mention of her scar.
“I’ve been covering it with make-up.”
“That’s no good, sweetie. Manuka honey; that’ll sort it.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
“How ever did it happen?”
Just as I realise we haven’t told her, Jac jumps in.
“You remember Sion? A guy was after him and he attacked Claire with a knife.”
“Oh! Claire, darling, that’s awful. Did they arrest him?”
“He pleaded guilty and got three years. He’ll probably be out in eighteen months.”
Cal tuts.
“And Sion?”
Jason shoots Jac a look.
“He’s gone away for a bit.”
Jac takes a long swig of his beer.
“They tried to charge him with Glyn's murder, Cal. They said it was his rope. That it wasn’t suicide. They had me and Annie in for questioning. Accused us of plotting to kill Annie’s parents to get the farm.”
Cal’s at a loss for words. For the first time ever.
“Jac’s only with me for my money.”
I try to lighten the mood, but her face is still a stony-grey and I can tell that it’s upset her deeply.
“What?” Sam asks her quietly as the table falls silent.
“I’m shocked, that’s all. Shocked… that those kinds of spurious allegations could be made without any substance… It’s worse than living in a fascist state, darling, it really is.”
The mood has tanked, and I don’t want to end the evening like this.
“Don’t worry. They dropped it. It was all bullshit. Sion was free to go.”
Cal stares at Claire.
“But you’ve still got doubts about Sion?”
Claire’s fork clangs onto her
plate. She mouths an apology and quickly takes a drink of her wine.
Later, as she leaves, Cal pauses by the front door. Her hand grips mine tightly as she kisses me goodnight.
“Can you and Jac come to see me tomorrow?”
CHAPTER 30
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It’s a teary farewell as Claire climbs the steps onto the Eurostar train, with her pack on her back. In less than three hours, she’ll be in Paris at the start of her great adventure.
We’re rattling along on the Northern Line in a jam-packed tube train and my face is getting squashed up against the armpit of a large man with a guitar case strapped to his back.
“D’you wish we were travelling too?”
“Nah,” Jac says. “I’ve spent my whole life wandering. I like being home, with you.”
“Me too.”
Taking my hand, we follow a steady stream of people spilling onto the platform.
When we arrive at Callista’s Victorian terrace, I notice the blinds flickering. Moments later, Cal is at the door, welcoming us in. And we go through the house into the spacious flower-filled garden at the back.
Jac notices it too. Cal is behaving very strangely.
Whenever either of us goes around there, we’re always stepping into delightful chaos. But today, everything’s prepared. Three chairs are neatly arranged around the wooden garden table for us to sit at, chilled homemade lemonade is at the ready, that she’s made especially for us.
Perhaps, it’s because it’s such a hot day. But, she seems restless and anxious.
“What’s the matter, Cal?”
