Yours Unfaithfully (23 page)

“You lucky bugger, Tim, give me a ring tomorrow night and let me know how it’s gone will you?”

“OK, I will, and you let me know when you’re going to go see Nina. Mel’s expecting me to go round and tell her what I’ve found out tonight. I don’t want to be the one to tell her your news, happy as I am for you two; you can see where it puts me, can’t you?”

It was Beckie who answered. “Don’t worry Tim, you find out what night Nina will let us visit and we’ll go there together and tell her everything.”

Tim wasn’t certain how he could ‘not worry’ in the circumstances but he would do his best. They played a couple of games of pool before Tim said good night and returned home.

“So, what did he say? I bet he’s sorry now, sorry he ever messed Nina about for some little tart he met in a night club. She’s probably met six more since then... he’s made a mess of it this time and no mistake. I hope you told him how lucky he is that Nina is prepared to give him another chance...”

“Mel, stop, listen will you? It’s nothing like that. He is in love with Beckie and she is in love with him.”

“Love? That idiot doesn’t know the meaning of the word, unless it comes in front of beer or snooker. I told you what to tell him. It sounds to me like you’ve messed up and fallen for his daft talk. You’re saying he’s still seeing her then?”

“Mel, will you please listen? She was there tonight, with him. I saw it for myself, they are in love properly. He is never going back to Nina. She, Beckie that is, promised that they would go and see Nina together and explain everything, sort out things like access to the kids, and all the other stuff that they’ll need to sort out.”

“She’ll sort him out, you’re not forgetting she’s a solicitor are you, Tim? She’s handled loads of divorce cases, she’ll put that bastard through the mincer, you wait and see. Access? He never even wanted access to his kids when he lived with them. She’ll see to it that the next time he sees them they’ll be driving their own kids around. God he’s got a bloody nerve.”

“Mel, I’m his friend. Did you want me to say, “Sorry mate, I can’t wish you well, my wife is your ex wife’s best friend?” He’s a new man, you should see him… you should see them both. They look so happy together I think it’s for the best. I’m as sorry as you for Nina, but she did treat him pretty badly. I know he was as bad... maybe they just weren’t right for each other. This way she can move on, find someone closer to her in class, someone she can look up to. I think in a year or two you’ll see that this was the best thing for both of them.”

“Well I hope you’re going to tell her all that, Tim, because I wouldn’t want to have to. Just be prepared for her to crack up completely when you give her this ‘good’ news.”

“I didn’t say it was good news, I can’t help what has happened, can I? All I’m saying is it’ll work out for the best in the end.” When shall I go round there? I suppose it’ll have to be tomorrow night. I can’t really put it off but I wanted to spend tomorrow night celebrating with you, I’ll have loads to talk to you about, after my first day. What’s do you think is best?”

“You’re right, Nina knows you saw Ben tonight, you’ll have to face her. Tell you what ... I’ll feed the kids early and then do us something nice, you can tell me about your day over the meal and I’ll tell Nina that you’ll come round after. She’ll understand. Come on, let’s go to bed, I need to show you how cross I am with you...” She winked at him and turned off the lounge light before heading upstairs.

The next morning was bright and sunny, which matched Tim’s mood perfectly. Despite last night’s encounter with Ben, his marriage was still intact. In fact, Mel had proved to him last night that she wanted him as much as she ever had. Now, with five minutes to go until he arrived to start his new job, the world was fine; everything was fine. He wished he’d had time yesterday to wash his van, as if somehow that would have disguised the fact of what it was, yet another of the things Melanie hated so much. This was another icon of his past that would have to go. As soon as he got his first month’s money he would trade this in for something more in keeping with his new position. Perhaps he could pretend he’d borrowed the van, pretend it wasn’t his. No that would mean starting on a lie, not a good way to start out. No he’d try to park it out of sight if possible and hope that no one would see it. Simon had given him instructions to get to his house and where he was to report for duty. Tim knew the area well enough, it was no more than ten miles from Elmthorpe, but Simon had told him the house was quite hard to find. ‘I like it that way,’ he’d said.

Tim drove through the village of Nempswell and about a mile out he saw the post box after which he was to turn left. The turning was easy to miss, unmarked and with high trees on either side allowing it to merge into the surrounding scenery. He slowly turned left and followed the lane until it split, taking the left split as per his instructions. Within thirty seconds he saw the sign, ‘Nempswell Manor, Private Drive, Visitors only by appointment’. He pulled up to the large metal gates and got out under the observation of a CCTV camera, which followed his every step. So much for his hiding the van out of sight. Before he could press the button a voice spoke to him from the box mounted on the gate.

“You must be Tim Fisher?”

“Yes, you’re expecting me?”

“That’s right, Tim, Mr Stonewood gave you a password. Did he tell you to mention someone’s name at reception?”

Tim knew he had, but he also knew he’d completely forgotten the name; this was his first failure, even before he’d even got inside the grounds. He tried desperately to remember the name but his mind was a blank. He’d better think quickly or see his credibility dissolve.

“Actually I was talking to Mr Stonewood on a mobile from France and it was breaking up really bad. I didn’t get the bit about who to ask for, I’m sorry, but I do have plenty of ID on me. I brought my passport, driving licence, in fact, you name it I’ve got it with me. Does that help?”

“Tim, I’m going to open the gates, drive down to the house and then drive across in front of it, turn left to go around behind it. You’ll see the garages and my office behind the kitchens. My name’s Ian Mitchell. I’m Head of Security and your immediate boss. I’ll see you in two minutes.”

Tim did as he was told; trying as he did so to work out whether Ian Mitchell was friendly or not. Could he be miffed that he hadn’t been included in the interview process? But then Simon hadn’t even interviewed him. For a job involving security it seemed remarkable that it had all been done over the phone. A slight worry entered his head that this was not as straightforward as he had imagined. Was he going to be asked to drive the Maybach to Amsterdam and back, unwittingly bringing drugs into the country? He’d have to keep his wits about him if he was to avoid ending up in something nasty.

He turned in through the gates, going slowly up the long curved drive under old horse chestnut trees until it turned sharply to the right and across a large well manicured lawn of an acre or more which led to a gravelled drive circling in front of the house to provide parking for at least twenty cars. The manor house was certainly grand, well hidden from the gaze of even the locals; it was a perfect hideaway for anyone wishing to stay out of the public eye, or perhaps out of the eyes of the authorities. As he arrived behind the kitchens an enormous man with the face of a career boxer blocked his path like a human roundabout. He pointed to a gap between two buildings.

“Stick it on the parking behind the laundry; at least we won’t have to look at it all day then.”

The van had made exactly the impression he had feared. Already he was down in Ian’s bad books, he’d forgotten his instructions and he’d shown up in a shitty little van, not exactly the impression he hoped for. He parked the van as instructed and walked back to meet Ian, determined from now on to listen to every word, every instruction. He couldn’t afford to muck this up; he had too much riding on it. What the hell would Melanie say if he blew it and had to go back to being a mechanic. It wasn’t worth thinking about, this had to work.

Ian took his hand and after the customary introduction led him to his office overlooking the rear of the house. It was well equipped with expensive office furniture and a console containing ten monitors, each showing a view of the house, mostly the outside but at least one of the kitchen and another of a room presumably inside the house.

OK Tim, so let’s see this ID and then I’ll spend the next hour acquainting you with the house rules. Where you can go, where you can’t, things like that. You don’t smoke do you? He was clearly pleased when Tim shook no to the question. That’s good, ‘cos you can’t bring cigarettes anywhere inside this office or the house. Mr Stonewood doesn’t allow any kind of smoking.

Any kind? Was that a reference to drugs, Tim wondered?

If you see anything that looks unusual, you tell me at once, is that clear? If you think about doing anything without telling me first, don’t... is that also clear. In the five years I’ve looked after Mr Stonewood he’s never so much as caught a cold. That’s because no germs would get past me... you know what I mean? I’m good at what I do. The bank spoke very highly of you. Welcome to my team.

“The bank? But I don’t work for the bank. They don’t know me at all.”

“Tim, your wife works for the bank, has done for ten years; she’s got promotion on several occasions, as I’m sure you’ll know, she wouldn’t have got that if the bank hadn’t checked you out. Believe me, I’ve seen the records they have on you. There are details on there that you probably don’t remember, which reminds me you should eat more for breakfast, it keeps your strength up through the day.” Ian laughed and Tim wondered if he’d got that little snippet from the database or whether he’d heard his stomach rumbling. One thing he was sure of, this was no ordinary job.

“OK, so Mr Stonewood told you he likes to go up to town in his Maybach, yes?”

“Yes, he said I’d be driving it.”

“You will, all in good time. First we are going out back in the field and I’m gonna show you a few tricks, driving techniques you won’t see in the Highway Code, but ones that would keep you alive if some bastard decided to take Mr Stonewood hostage for a ransom. He’s worth a lot of money and he’s a prime target for any scumbag who wants a big payday the easy way. The car has a lot of security built in and I’ll run you through that later. Right now I want you to prove to me that you can drive out of any situation you might get into, better still I want you to prove to me that you won’t get into a situation in the first place. The field contained at least a dozen cars, most of them dented – from previous sessions, no doubt.

Right, Tim, you take the Volvo estate, drive round the main track as if you’re taking a normal trip. I’m gonna come at you in one of these vehicles and you must get out of my way. Whatever it takes don’t let me stop you, do you understand? If I can stop your vehicle my thugs can take your passenger hostage. If that happens it’s all over for you, probably with a bullet inside you, so unless you wanna put on weight suddenly, get your ass out of reach of me when I come at you, got it?”

“Ian, I’m a truck mechanic, I regularly drive all kinds of trucks. I’m used to being in the best seat when it comes to an argument on the road.”

“Well I wish Mr Stonewood would let you take him up to London in a truck, I’d feel a lot better about that, but like most millionaires he prefers a car. Shame but that’s the way it is. Let’s go.”

The volvo was tidy inside and worth ten times more than Tim’s van. This seemed a shame when he realised that it was only used to practice ‘road duels’. He drove around the track as instructed, watching for any of the other cars to start moving. On his third time around he saw a land rover coming up behind him. So that was it, Ian was going to push him from behind. Not now he was ready for it, he wasn’t.

As he watched the mirror in anticipation of a shunt from behind he was suddenly aware that a black Ford had pulled out right in front of him, totally blocking his path. If he T-boned the Ford he would take his radiator out and probably disable the Volvo, then the Land Rover would close up on him, sandwiching him so he couldn’t move. Game over.

He slapped the brake pedal to the floor and pushed the gear into reverse, with the clutch out and the throttle pedal hard down the car wheel span for a second and then shot backwards. He waited for the crash. He didn’t have long to wait. The land rover gave a sickening squeal and a bang as it ejected steam into the air. He pushed the gear lever into first and swung a full lock to turn the Volvo around. Under full throttle he nudged his front nearside wing into the front corner of the Granada knocking it sideways and splitting the front tyre. The angle of the front wheel confirmed that the Ford’s suspension was broken. That wasn’t going to chase the Volvo today. As he headed away from the scene he looked back with pride at the devastation he had caused to two of the ‘firm’s’ vehicles while only sustaining a bent boot and front wing damage to the Volvo. Ian was standing in the track as he came round again, signalling for him to stop.

“That was quite impressive, they are two of the best men in the business. Both ex-SAS, and now doing stunt work. I got them down here today to teach you a few tricks, but it seems like you already know how to stay alive. Well done.”

The four of them went for tea in Ian’s office, where they discussed a lot more tactics to be used in the war on hostage takers. Although Tim knew a fair bit about defensive driving they were able to show him some useful ‘tricks’ that he hadn’t seen before. When they stopped for lunch, Ian declared himself pleased with the morning’s work. I think I’d trust you to take Mr Stonewood out and about after that, he said. It puzzled Tim why he always referred to him as Mr Stonewood when the man in question had insisted Tim call him Simon. No doubt the reason would become clear in time. After lunch Ian took him on a tour of the house, introducing him to each member of staff as he went. There were a total of ten members of staff, including Ian’s wife who worked in Mr Stonewood’s office inside the house.