The kitchen was full of light and warmth and noise. The first person I saw was the Boss. Of course, Mrs De Winter would have contacted him as soon as I left. I wondered how long I had been away. About four hours as far as I could see; long enough for fabulous smells to permeate the room. There was no messing about. These guys looked ready to eat the furniture.
We seated ourselves. The Boss stood up. ‘A toast, I think. Gentlemen, welcome back.’ We all drank to that.
Farrell stood up. ‘With your permission, sir. Max, on behalf of all of us, thank you.’
They all said, ‘Thank you,’ and raised their glasses. Markham winked at me.
I said, ‘An honour and a privilege, guys,’ and glowed inside.
A huge pot steamed in the middle of the table and we served ourselves with the best lamb stew I’ve ever eaten. I cut up Markham’s meat for him.
Beer flowed and the talk got louder. Obviously we were desperate to know what had happened to them and they needed no encouragement.
As I expected, things were fairly straightforward until the explosion. People were thrown around all over the place. Reptiles and tourists bounced off each other to the detriment of the tourists. Fighting their way through the smoke, dazed and disoriented, Guthrie and Farrell lost each other. Peterson, dispatched by Barclay to find them, got lost himself, fell over Markham, and nearly got himself shot. No one saw any glimpse of Barclay.
I mulled this over as they ate. There was something …
The four of them were hoovering up everything on the table, laughing with each other, making private jokes and winding each other up and then it happened. One minute I was chuckling at Markham and then all at once a wave of exhaustion swept over me as the events of the last months suddenly presented their bill. Things blurred. The large meal and alcohol hadn’t helped at all. I got to my feet.
‘If you’ll all excuse me,’ I said. ‘Suddenly I’m very tired and can’t keep my eyes open. I’ll see you all tomorrow.’
They surprised me. They all stood up. Guthrie opened the door for me and the Boss offered me his arm and walked me to the door. ‘Goodnight, Miss Maxwell, and thank you again.’
‘An honour and a privilege, sir.’
I meant to put my clothes out for washing as Mrs De Winter had requested, but only remembered after I’d climbed into bed and it was too much effort to get back out again. I also meant to take a few minutes and savour the luxury of a warm bed and clean sheets (indeed, any sheets at all) but I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I woke later, vaguely aware of someone climbing in beside me. I hoped it was Leon but was too far gone to care. If this was one of those books, there would now be three pages of head-banging sex. The reality was that he pulled me close, whispered, ‘Mfhbnnntx,’ and I pulled his arm over me like a cover and muttered, ‘Trout,’ and that was pretty much it.
I woke reasonably early the next morning and slowly took stock. I could see a mop of dark hair on the pillow beside me. I lifted the sheet just to check I was in bed with the right man. Typical – our first night ever in a proper bed and both of us too knackered to do anything about it.
I listened carefully and could just faintly hear crockery being bashed about. Mrs De Winter was up and in the kitchen. I slipped out of bed, splashed water on my face, dressed, and padded downstairs.
Pushing open the kitchen door, I was astonished to see the Boss limping around, laying the table for breakfast. He looked up. ‘Good morning, Miss Maxwell. Would you like some tea? The kettle has just boiled.’
‘Um …’
‘I didn’t get a chance last night to say how pleasant it is to see you again. Please, come in and sit a moment.’
I didn’t work for him any more and for a brief, suicidal moment considered asserting my independence and remaining standing. Good sense and cowardice prevailed.
‘You left abruptly last night.’
‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘I was tired.’
‘Really?’
Time to put the record straight. ‘I’ve been dismissed, sir. I was chucked out. Hurled out, actually. On top of that, I’m guilty of stealing government property from a secure establishment, consorting with St Mary’s personnel after having been expressly forbidden to do so and contravening … Well, I’m always guilty of contravening something, so just fill in the blank space with the contravention of your choice.’
‘Miss Maxwell, you have been, still are, and always will be a member of St Mary’s. I regard you as one of the key members of my unit and it would cause me considerable concern (and surprise) if, at any point, you weren’t contravening something, somewhere.’
I couldn’t look at him. He watched me for a while and then said quietly, ‘I understand.’ I snatched a glance. He was Dr Bairstow and because he was Dr Bairstow he really did understand. He leaned forward. ‘Return to St Mary’s and I’ll give you what you want.’
‘And that would be?’
‘Isabella Barclay.’
I used the long pause to pull myself together. Then I nodded. He refilled my mug, poured out a second one for the Chief, and said, ‘Breakfast in one hour.’
I said, ‘Yes, sir,’ but also, because he was Dr Bairstow, he had to have the last word.
‘Miss Maxwell.’
‘Yes, sir?’