Fear of the Fathers (17 page)

“I agree sir. But how do you get them there? They don't see the need for education any more. They probably want to be footballers or WAGS. You don't need to go to school for that. We've created a society of effortless success.”

“You're absolutely right Jennings. But with my new initiatives I'm sure that…”

Ayres carried on talking, but Jennings switched himself off. He had heard the speech many times before. He gazed out of the window and watched the city streets roll by. Once again Stratton entered his head. He wondered what it meant. Stratton was long since dead, and although Jennings had liked him, they had only known each other briefly and were hardly best mates. His presence in Jennings psyche was disturbing. Unless he was trying to get in contact from the spirit world, which seemed unlikely, there was only one feasible explanation: and that was fear and jealousy. Perhaps Stella's inability to move on was affecting him as well, he thought. Maybe Stratton was just a manifestation of his inner torment. But whatever the reason, Stratton had lodged himself inside Jennings' brain and he couldn't get rid of him.

The Prime Minister brought him back to earth. “…So you see Jennings,” he concluded. “I believe that in ten years' time my education model will have proved itself revolutionary. We will have the best-educated school leavers in the world.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jennings, pretending to have listened intently. “It's a bold initiative. One the country's been needing for a long while. I'm sure it will be a great success.”

Ayres gave a smile of satisfaction. “I'm glad you think so.”

At half past ten they arrived at Peckham High. With grades way below the national average, it was a typical example of the type of school being targeted by the government's reforms. At the school gates a large congregation of children and parents formed a welcoming party. Banners hailed the Prime Minister's arrival. The rain hadn't kerbed their excitement.

As they drove through the gates Jennings checked out the crowd. It was easier to pinpoint the people who didn't look suspicious. If someone was going to have another shot at the PM then this was the day to do it.

They parked up and Jennings got out of the car. He held the door for Ayres and his wife. A massive cheer erupted as they stepped out. They waved and walked over to shake a few hands. Jennings followed close behind, holding an umbrella over them. His eyes darted up and down the throng but nothing caught his eye.

Five minutes later they were inside the school. The head teacher led them through the corridors, stopping at intervals to enter classrooms.

“They all seem very well-behaved,” said Mrs Ayres.

“Yes, they're a good bunch of kids really,” said the head teacher.

Jennings gave Appleby a sly look and they both grinned, knowing full well that if it were not for the PM's visit then the place would be carnage. As they walked around Jennings spotted at least thirty kids who he knew from experience to be carrying knives. He wouldn't have been surprised if some of the little ‘gangstas' had guns hidden in their lockers too. Gang culture was taking over rapidly and, Jennings reflected, the PM was kidding himself if he thought a few empty bits of legislation and several bleeding-heart proposals were going to halt the degeneration.

Jennings was glad when the visit drew to a close. He wasn't so much concerned about terrorists as psychopathic kids going on a rogue shooting spree, a la Columbine.

“Well that was better than I thought,” said Ayres, once they were back in the safety of the car. “What a nice bunch of kids.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jennings drily. “I can't see why people are so disparaging of the younger generation.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Ayres.

Jennings sat back and switched off again. He felt as if there was a cartoon cloud hovering above him. He wouldn't have described it as depression though, more like an emptiness, a vacuum of emotion. He wondered what the hell he was doing with his life.

The rain continued to spatter the windows. Annie looked out onto the hotel lawn with an increasing sense of hopelessness. They had moved from the outskirts of London to a little town in the Cotswolds called Chipping Norton. But that was just geographical. The hollowness in her heart remained.

Although still in turmoil, she did at least have some fresh clothes. They had stopped off in Oxford on the way up and Kamal had bought her a few pairs of jeans, some T-shirts and sweaters, a pair of shoes, and a pair of trainers. She had also managed to get a few essential cosmetics out of him.

The bedside clock indicated that it was 1.30pm. Kamal had been gone for an hour. Before leaving he had suggested that she order something to eat from room service. But Annie was going ‘stir crazy'. She had been staring at four walls, and keeping her own company, for the last three days. She needed to get out and talk to someone other than Kamal just to keep her sanity. She decided to go downstairs and have lunch in the hotel restaurant.

The dining area was large and, although busy, there were plenty of free tables. Annie took one next to the side window so that she could wave Kamal if he returned. She ordered a Bacardi and Coke to drink while she looked at the menu. After her enforced isolation it felt good to be in a room full of people.

She was about to grab the waiter to take her order when she saw the Subaru pull into the car park. A stony-faced Kamal got out. Annie waved to get his attention. He saw her and frowned even more.

By the time he reached the restaurant his countenance had mellowed slightly. He took a seat. “What are you doing?” he said. “I thought I told you to order room service.”

“I was going to,” she replied. “But I needed to get out. I've been cooped up for too long. I don't like being enclosed – I get claustrophobic.”

“That maybe,” said Kamal. “But we must be very careful. We do not know who is watching. It is silly to expose yourself.”

Annie's face dropped. “But you don't understand, I really don't like being enclosed. It makes me…It just drives me mad, that's all.”

Kamal saw the genuine distress in her eyes and softened his tone. “Okay. I do not suppose there is any real harm done. Let us order something to eat.”

He waved the waiter and ordered them both starters and main courses, and a bottle of Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon.

Annie finished her Bacardi. “What about you?” she said. “You don't seem to be bothered about people seeing you.”

“That is because nobody knows what I look like.”

“What do you mean? How did they find you then?”

The waiter brought the wine. Kamal took a sip and nodded his approval. When they were alone again he said, “They found me through my credit card. I do not know how, but they found out the alias I was travelling under.”

“But they would have a description of you from the hotel by now. You would have been caught on the CCTV.”

“I was in disguise when I checked in, one of many I use. I never left the room without it. You are the only person who knows what I look like. You are the only person who can put a face to the name.”

Annie tried to gauge whether this was a threat or a statement. She hoped it was the latter.

The starters arrived, both were having prawns with chorizo. They ate and talked.

“So anyway. What happened with your phone call? Did you find anything out?” Annie asked.

Kamal's face briefly winced. “Yes, I did. It is extremely bad. I believe that everyone in the chain is dead.”

Annie dropped her fork into the bowl. “What? Everyone?” she said, a little too loudly.

Kamal put a finger to his lips and shushed her. “Yes, everyone,” he said.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I phoned the man below me, a good friend of mine called Rashid. His wife answered. He was killed five days ago, whilst they were out at dinner in Mumbai. A single shot to the back of the head. The gunman was in and out of the restaurant before anyone knew what was happening. It was cold and professional.”

Annie saw the pain in Kamal's face. “I'm sorry,” she said.

Kamal raised a small smile. “Thank you,” he said. “He was a good man. We had known each other for many years. He was really the only true friend I had. The only person I could trust.”

The waiter cleared their plates, and returned five minutes later with the main course. Kamal had a steak and ale pie, and Annie a seafood linguine.

“How do you think they linked you to Rashid?” asked Annie.

“His house had been turned over while they were at the restaurant. They must have searched his hard drive and gone through his emails. There is no way of covering your tracks completely in this day and age – as soon as a security system is invented then some clever kid comes up with a way to circumnavigate it.” He paused. “Anyway, let us not dwell on these things, it will do no good. We must concentrate on the now.”

Kamal finished his pie in silence. Annie gazed out of the window and chewed thoughtfully on her pasta. It was the first time that she had seen even a hint of emotion from Kamal. Before Rashid's untimely demise she had thought him unfeeling to the point of robotic. Now, at last, she had caught a glimpse, however slight, of a human being. Her fear of him started to subside. Perhaps he was genuinely going to help her get her family back safely.

Kamal finished his meal and lay his cutlery neatly in the middle of the plate. “Would you like some dessert?” he asked.

“Why not,” Annie replied. The food made a welcome change from the motel crap that they had been eating.

“Then I shall have one also,” said Kamal.

The restaurant was emptying out after the lunchtime rush, and Annie noticed Kamal beginning to relax. Throughout the meal his eyes had been darting around the room, checking every table with suspicion. It had been putting her on edge.

“Do you think we could've been followed here?” she asked.

“Probably not,” said Kamal. “Why do you ask?”

“You've been checking out everyone in the dining room.”

“I always do. In my business you never know what is going to happen. Complacency kills – look at Rashid.”

“It's not a good way to live, is it? Being suspicious of everybody. Don't you want a normal life where you can just relax? I know I do.”

Kamal finished his glass of wine. “Yes, I am coming round to that way of thinking. I am no longer a ‘spring chicken' as they say. I have got plenty to retire on, so that is what I shall do.”

“What will you do with yourself?” she asked.

“I do not know. I had planned to see out the rest of my days in lazy luxury, but I am not so sure anymore. I feel like I should do something constructive – maybe start up a martial arts school or something like that. Whatever I do, it will be in Mumbai.”

“Is that where you come from then?”

“Yes. It is a wonderful city.”

“What about the attacks on those tourists?”

Kamal gazed out of the window reflectively and said, “One atrocity does not stop it being wonderful.”

They finished their meal quietly. Kamal's mood had turned sombre. Annie imagined he was thinking about Mumbai. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him. It didn't matter who he was, or what he'd done, at that moment he was just a traveller in a strange country who missed his home. And missing home was something she knew about only too well. She stopped herself before she regressed to the days of pain.

Inside the dugout Oggi lay on his bed listening to the soft, hypnotic thud of the rain. The fire burned brightly, the air warm and dry. He felt a surge of pride at his excellent weather-proofing. There was nothing more satisfying than beating the elements.

Across from him, on the other bunk, Stratton was studying the box and the parchment that accompanied it. He had been preoccupied all morning.

“I thought you would have memorized all that by now,” Oggi said. “You've been at it for going on three months.”

“There's a lot to take in,” said Stratton, not looking up. “There's over three hundred symbols, and they're all intricate. Some of them are only subtly different. I've not only got to memorize each one, but also what it does. Anyway, you should talk, you gave up after a week.”

Oggi was indignant. “I didn't give up, it just didn't feel right. That day we brought you back scared me. I felt like I was messing with something I shouldn't. I don't think I'm ready to learn any more. I don't think I could handle it.”

Stratton put down the parchment. “Yeah, sorry. It's my fault really. I was so determined to give myself a way back if everything went wrong, that I overlooked the effect it would have on you guys. It took a lot of energy.”

“You're telling me,” said Oggi. “It knocked us off our feet. I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. It's not an experience I want to repeat.”

“You won't have to. I don't intend on dying again soon.”