Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 791 by Angharad

After my exertions in our makeshift gymnasium, I showered and dressed casually. Then on a whim I called Henry.

“Hello, Cathy; how is my favourite daughter in law to be?”

“Worried.”

“Understandably so – you realise this line isn’t secured.”

“Yes.”

“Did you want anything in particular?”

“Yes, I want these stupid attacks on me and mine to stop.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Yes, but we don’t all have the power to make it so.”

“Very true.”

“Henry, you do.”

“What? Good lord, you don’t really believe that do you?”

“Yes.”

“So what do you want me to do, roll over and give them the bank?”

“No.”

“Oh, so what did you have in mind – that I put my underpants on top of my trousers and fly out there and bash them à la Superman?”

“No, you pull the plug on them.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You tell the Russian government to call off their dogs or you bring them down.”

“You don’t seriously believe that do you?”

“Henry, I am neither daft nor blind. I can see the solution – all it takes is the courage to do it.”

“If they thought for one moment that I could do it, they’d have had killed me months ago. All it would do is destroy the bank and lose investors and shareholders a great deal of money.”

“Henry, that is going to happen anyway, they will kill you if they get the chance – full stop. Why not fight back?”

“It isn’t possible, Cathy, it’s just a romantic speculation I’m afraid.”

“I thought you had the balls to go for it Henry – obviously, I was wrong. I’m sorry I troubled you.” I clicked the phone off.

Then I sat on the bed and tried to see how I could start to make things happen in our favour. After several minutes, I had no idea whatsoever, so I went downstairs again. Dinner was a sombre event, the children seemed to know something was afoot and were extremely quiet.

Tom put them to bed while I cleared up the mess with help from Simon. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to call Dad?”

“I did it on a whim.”

“You asked him to destroy the bank.”

“No, I asked him to destroy a rotten and corrupt government or to threaten to do so.”

“He thought it was more than a threat.”

“He’s entitled to his opinion.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him if he had the balls, he’d do it to save his grandchildren.”

“Nothing too much then? Cathy, I asked you not to interfere – it isn’t at all straightforward or simple, it’s all wheels within wheels.”

“Rubbish – it’s black and white – stop them or they get us.”

“That’s so simplistic, Cathy.”

“It isn’t, it’s us versus them, good versus evil. We’re the good guys. They have to be stopped. If it brings down a bank, too bad, it’s worth it to save my children – I mean our children.”

“I wish it was that simple, Cathy, I’d be all for it.”

“It is, you close down in Russia and call in the debts they owe you. You question the financial stability of Russia who will be forced to inject loads of money they haven’t got, or to borrow it. You put the word out that they’re a bad risk.”

“And then what?”

“You watch while they struggle and as things fall apart over there, then you make your bargain with them – they call off their dogs, you untwist their financial knickers – quid pro quo.”

“What’s to stop the KGB, or whatever they call themselves these days, from eliminating us?”

“They might or they’ll threaten to, but given they’re already trying to do it, what have you lost?”

“About four billion pounds worth of loans.”

“It’s only money, Simon – would it help if I offered to pay it back by monthly instalments?”

He gave me a very old fashioned look, then burst out laughing – “Very funny, Cathy.” Then he looked bemused, “It was a joke, wasn’t it? You’re not laughing, Cathy”

“Actually, Simon – yes it was.”

“Phew, you had me worried for a moment.”

“I’m worried all the time about the girls and Puddin’, not to mention the adults in my life.”

“We’ll come through this, just you wait and see – Butcher Cumberland thought he could destroy us after Culloden, but we were too quick for him.”

“This is 2009 not 1745, Simon. The Russians are professionals not some brown nosed cousin of the King who does a happy line in genocide. These guys will kill us all, unless we hit them first.”

“I’m arranging for some weapons to be brought into the house.”

“What? Peashooters and water pistols?”

“No, some automatic pistols.”

“They’re illegal in this country, Simon.”

“So? So is murder as far as I know, I’d rather be prosecuted than posthumous.”

I shook my head, “I don’t want one.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t ever want to see another gun as long as I live. Shooting it out with them will only result in deaths and serious injury.”

“If it’s all on their side, good. Don’t go all girly on me, Cathy.”

“We have children here, we can’t have shoot outs, sooner or later one of them is going to cop a bullet or be psychologically damaged. This is Hampshire not Afghanistan.”

“I’m well aware of where we are, I’ve ordered you a Glock.”

“Clock? What do I need a clock for?” I couldn’t believe him at times.

“Not a clock -- a Glock, a gun.”

“I told you I don’t want one.”

“What if they get in here and want to kill your kids?”

“Do you mean, our kids?”

“Yes, sorry, our children – what are you going to do?”

“If they get in here and threaten our children, it will mean I’m already dead.”

“But with a gun, you could stop them.”

“With the bank doing the right thing, I can stop them and no one gets killed.”

“If we kill them, it ends.”

“Simon, you can’t honestly believe that, they’ll just send more thugs – their secret service is full of them, I’ll bet. We have to destroy their power base, cut off their head – metaphorically, of course.”

“You’re completely mad, but I love you.”

“I love you too, Simon.” We kissed and he held me tightly. “It’s your dad I’m going off.”

“I’m off in an hour’s time,” he said.

“Where are you going? It’s dark.”

“London, I’m going to see if I can persuade Dad to risk two hundred years of family business on one madcap idea.”

I looked at him in astonishment. “I love you, Simon.”