(aka Bike) Part 808 by Angharad |
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We spent a difficult night at the hotel, the wind got up and something creaked or rattled most of the time. I also suffered from my own wind which rumbled around my belly like a thunderstorm in the Alps. Waking me up every half an hour or so.
The morning arrived far too quickly and so did breakfast. Simon gloried in telling me the full details of his divorce from the tracking device, so the curry had done its job–none of which encouraged me to want to eat. In the end I settled for a boiled egg which I had to force down. Simon stuffed himself with a full English–bacon, sausage and anything else they can fry. Just watching him eat it, made me feel uncomfortable.
Then glancing out the window he said, “Here’s our lift.”
I looked and saw a large silver Mercedes arrive in the car park and its two occupants got out. One came into the hotel whilst the other stayed by the car, his hand resting just inside the breast of his jacket.
“How do you know it’s for us?” I asked.
“I recognise the two occupants.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Shut up and get yourself ready, woman.”
“Yes sir,” I said saluting him–probably very badly. I went back to the bathroom and finished putting on some makeup–thought I’d better make the effort, never knew who I was going to see today.
“Did you know there was a police car outside all night?”
“No, I didn’t notice it.”
“The landlady has just taken them out some coffee. Aren’t you ready yet?”
“Yes, I’m coming.” I returned to the room and Simon pointed out the tail end of a large white car, “and they’re armed.”
“Cor, somebody is taking it seriously this time.”
“Well seeing as those scumbags killed four coppers last time they guarded you, they’re not taking any chances.”
“Good,” I agreed although I still didn’t like firearms.
He took my case and we went down the creaking staircase of the eighteenth century pub. The chauffer, who’d come into the car spotted us and stood to attention. He was well over six feet tall and looked in good physical shape.
“Good to see you again, Lord Simon, and you ma’am.”
“James, this is Catherine my wife to be.”
“Nice to meet you ma’am.”
“And you, James.” He picked up my case like it was a feather and took it out to the car, while Simon settled our account.
“He looks ex-military,” I said watching James go, he had rather a nice bum too.
“He is, Special Boat Squadron,” an elite group formed from Royal Marine Commandos, themselves an elite force.
“The other one is too, isn’t he?”
“Robert, nah, he’s SAS. James will tell you they’re a bunch of wimps.”
“Are they both armed?”
“Dunno, probably, why?”
“Robert, the one out at the car is.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s got his hand over a bulge in his suit.”
Simon stopped leaning on the counter and looked at me, “He’s what?”
“He’s got his hand covering a bulge in his jacket.”
“His jacket? For a moment you had me worried.” I looked at him in bewilderment.
We walked out hand in hand, me carrying my handbag and laptop in my right hand while Simon held my left one.
“Lord Simon, Lady Catherine, nice to see you again, sir, and to meet you ,ma’am.”
“Likewise,” I said back, while Simon and he shook hands vigorously, when he held out his huge mitt to me, I was worried he’d pull my arm off, but all he did was gently squeeze my hand and let me go.
“How long to Portsmouth, James,” Simon said looking at his watch.
“I’ve instructions to take you somewhere else, sir.”
“From whom?” Simon spoke with irritation.
“Your father, sir.”
“Well, I’m countermanding those.”
“Sorry, sir, no can do.”
“That’s insubordination, James.”
“Very sorry, sir, but I have my orders.”
“I suppose you are armed, too?”
“I can’t answer that, sir.” Oh no, he sounded like Bill and Ben.
“So where are we going?”
“You’ll see, sir. I can’t tell you where we could be overheard.”
“Oh no, the last time I was taken in a car like that, I nearly got murdered. I am not going anywhere, could I have my case back from the boot?” I felt quite anxious.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I was instructed to collect you both and take you to a pre-arranged venue.”
“I’m sorry, but this being a pseudo free country, I’m declining to come with you.”
“Lady Catherine, please, you are coming with us, please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”
I turned to run back to the hotel and his colleague stepped in front of me and grabbed me, whilst James snatched my bag and computer from my hand. Simon stood still, in shock as much as anything. I was dumped unceremoniously in the car and Simon got in the car, as if in a daze.
“You are still working for Dad?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t know what I think about what just happened.”
“Sorry, sir, but we have our orders, it should become clear in a very short time.”
I sulked for the hour it took for us to achieve our objective–some large house in the country, where several large cars were already parked.
“Where are we?” I asked Simon.
“Not sure, think it might be Penscombe House.”
“It is, sir,” said James opening the door for me.
“Who lives there?”
“An old family friend, Sir George Edwards.”
“Who?”
“He’s an ex cabinet minister and soldier. Dad knew him at school. His wife is nice, Lady Hilary.”
“What are we doing here, Si?”
“Hiding?” He took my hand and we walked together, my feathers were still ruffled and I now wished I’d been sick all down Robert’s back when he hoisted me over his shoulder. Well it works for babies when they don’t want to be handled.
We walked along some well tended paths and into a beautiful porch, where a man obviously wearing a shoulder holster stood looking menacing. Once through the doors, we were greeted by Henry and another man, taller than Henry and with a fluffy moustache. I was introduced to him as George and his delightful wife, Hilary, a very attractive woman whose poise and appearance made me feel like a street urchin. She was so nice and I took to her immediately. She led me off to freshen up in her guest bathroom.
I emerged ten minutes later, washed and makeup and hair tidied up a bit. I still felt scruffy, but I did only have part of my wardrobe with me compared to her designer gear. For the first time in ages, I felt a bit out of my depth.
We walked together back downstairs towards a large room, “Tea or coffee?” she asked.
“I don’t mind, if it’s warm and wet.” I smiled back.
“It’ll be both of those, now which would you prefer?”
“Tea, I think.”
“Darjeeling?”
“Fine unless you have any Lady Grey?”
“We do but not easily available.”
“Okay, the Darjeeling is fine.”
“In here, Cathy.” I stepped inside a huge room with Chinese carpets and bookcases.
Then suddenly, “Muuummeeee,” came a loud shriek and I was almost knocked down by a runaway train.
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Comments
Hurray!
Sounds like everyone is back together!
Janice
The Last Line
Says it all. I wonder just what George did that we don't know? I can see that the rest of the week will be taken up with catch up.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Reunion!
Glad Cathy finally has her family back. All of us must put up with a little indignity sometime. Although, I don't blame Cathy's reluctance to get into the car, even though Simon knew the driver and bodyguard. Cathy should learn to trust Simon more sometimes.
The bad guys are still out there, though. A few chapters of catch up and then lets get rid of the bad guys. Henry and Simon need to keep the bank.
Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
And Simon trusts who?
Although, I don't blame Cathy's reluctance to get into the car, even though Simon knew the driver and bodyguard. Cathy should learn to trust Simon more sometimes.
Simon had his back up also, as evidenced by his attempts to countermand the previous orders. Knowing the men doesn't mean they couldn't have changed leaders in the meantime. Military types do swear this oath to protect the country above all else, if the right person went to them and said "For the good of England" they might be pursuaded.
They know they can survive
Maybe now....
... during the inevitable family reunion, we'll find out Bill and Mertyle's role in all of this. If they knew George had Tom and the kids (at least that's the implication we're left with) and he was a friend of Henry's, why couldn't they say anything, even after the Russian threat was removed back at the house when Cathy and Mertyle rescued Simon?
Of course, we're assuming Bill and Mertyle's intentions were honourable to begin with.
PB
Hip...hip...
Hooray!
Hopefully we'll now find out what Henry, George and the girls have been up to over the past few days/weeks (Help! I can't remember when this latest Mafia story arc started!), and possibly even get an insight into what on earth Ambrose and Myrtle have been playing at.
It wouldn't surprise me if the blowing up of the cars was deliberate, as their descriptions, registrations and probably even VIDs are known to the Mafia, so Cathy and Simon could be tracked once this encounter was supposedly over.
--Ben
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
At last!
We only caught a glimpse of Cathy's worry about the children. They themselves must have gone through agonies, especially with the way they were taken and their mother missing for so long. No one should have to handle that at their ages.
Now maybe I can sleep tonight.
Susie
Happy days
are here again for Cathy, At long last she is going to reunited with her three musketeers, I imagine that there will be (to use one of Angharad's welsh words) plenty of cwtch's handed out, And most probably a lot of vows by Cathy never to put them in that sort of danger again.... Mind you given how trouble follows Cathy around that might prove difficult to achieve!!!
Kirri
I think I would prefer
the kids being referred to as the "3 mouseketeers" More in keeping with their ages and actions. LOL
Agree -- Hurray!
Hurray was my first reaction too ! I was expecting that Henry had arranged to smuggle the bairns to safety, but glad to see it all coming out right in the end...
Interesting programme on Radio 4 BBC this morning - "The Choice", at 9.00 on November 10th, when Michael Buerk talked to Miranda Ponsonby about her decision to change sex.
Miranda began life as Roger, was born into the County Set, raised by Nanny, parents rich as Croesus, had to go to a boys boarding school and then Army Officer and then ended up in Rhodesia (now called Zimbabwe), rode horses and hunted, then returned to UK, got married and became a gentleman farmer. Wife had 2 sons, and only in his mid 50s did he decide to do something finally about becoming the girl he had always felt he was inside since age 4 or so. Became a Nurse and is still working now, much older. His sons cut off all contact with him.
Sad story, and just goes to show how close our Big Closet fiction is to Real Life. Anyone can hear it by looking it up on BBC site and pressing "hear it again" button.
At the end of the Interview she answered Michael's last question by saying she would not have had the Op if she had known how things would turn out, which was very sad. I dont think most people who transition feel that way, but she did do it all in a rush and without psychological support, and the surgeon was a real clown - he left one testicle inside and she had to be re-operated on to get it out! Well, physicians do remark that one does not have to be that bright to become a surgeon, but still, one would expect him to be able to count up to two!
Briar
Briar
Glad to see
our heroine reunited with her kids. Still wondering what all has been going on.
Somehow, I think...
That Cathy's suddenly feeling just a "wee bit" better about things.
I don't blame her for acting a bit like a baby early on - and trying to refuse to get in the car... Serves them all right to have her react to the burping "normally"...
I mean - how hard would it have been to hand them a piece of paper with just a few words that would have explained things - that could have been hidden from any snoopers... And destroyed on the spot... Seriously now, why is it folks seem to think Cathy likes operating on minimal information.
One thing - if Bill didn't know where the kids were before, he does now... Being as Simon didn't "spit up" his little 'tracer' pill... I wonder who ELSE has a tracking device tuned to the pill now, too...
Thanks,
Annette
Um...Annette
'The morning arrived far too quickly and so did breakfast. Simon gloried in telling me the full details of his divorce from the tracking device, so the curry had done its job—none of which encouraged me to want to eat.'
I meant this to mean it exited by another route.
Angharad
Angharad
At last ...
At last I have (almost) caught up.
Heart-full thanks, Angharad, for your bounteous talent and your generous sharing thereof.
I StumbledUpon your work at Maddy's site, and promptly searched the interweb for more of your stories.
... Tanaene animis caelestibus irae?
Yours from the Great South Place of One Testicle
ChrisPZA (Mr.)
Me, Too!!
Chris said it so well; how could I ever compete with that?
And, Chris, I suppose your closing is a geographic reference as is mine but I don't understand yours. Mine is a reference to Canada, a country I am proud to claim as mine.
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
x
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
Still,
This strikes me as extremely badly handled. I suspect Bill and Myrtle still haven't figured out how dangerous Cathy really is. Maybe they never will.
"Oh, darling, ..................."
Shut up and do what the SBS guy says. Sheeh, you are a contrary witch, aren't you ?
Careful, two more coming.
Cefin