The Gruinard Project chapter 6

[khandy]

Chapter 6

The Plaza on the River 22.00hrs

She could not settle, This was the fifth time she had paced about the room in the last twenty minutes. It was not that the suite was uncomfortable, far from it. It was far more generous than she needed, with ample cupboard space for her clothing, which had been delivered, just as Jo had said. Satellite television with over a hundred channels, yet nothing she wanted to watch. The bathroom was superb, with a roll top bath, separate walk in shower, piles of fluffy towels and a basket full of shower and bath products. She had spent half an hour under the warm spray trying to ease the tension in her body. Drying and then pampering her skin, before she cocooned herself in the soft towelling robe, which had been provided with the towels.

She realised that her tension stem from the almost surreal nature of the day. How in heavens heaven's name had she Kathryn Eleanor Masters got mixed up in this? How had she wound up in an impersonal hotel room under an assumed name? How had she, a simple Microbiologist, ended up assisting MI5? She laughed slightly hysterically, MI5 had treated her like an expert. What had Ros said, she was part of the team? How quick they were to judge and form opinions. How quick they were to trust. That had surprised her, she would have thought it would have been the opposite. She shivered slightly as she thought of the reasons she was here at all . Was somebody really planning to release a biological weapon in the UK? Section D seemed so calm about it. No, that wasn’t the word she wanted. Focused, that was it. She had never seen such focus.

Room service had delivered a bottle of Ledaig single malt whisky, she had paid in cash not wanting MI5 to pick up the bill. She had poured herself a generous measure. Her Grandfather had always said that a glass of single malt was better than any sleeping pills.

Picking up the glass Kate moved across to the window, the thick shag piled carpet soft beneath her feet. She stood looking out across the river. The lights of the city shining like a thousand tiny gems. The famous landmarks lit up and illuminated against the night sky. The river remained busy with boats still travelling along it, even in the murky blackness. A pleasure boat with party goers enjoying the night, one of several that passed by as she watched.

She brought her glass to her lips and tasted the golden liquid. Like a great many of the Island Whiskies this one had a peaty taste. Her mind was drawn to another time she had drunk single malt whisky in a hotel, where she had not paid the bill. She looked out over the river to the illuminated city beyond, wondering, which if any, were the lights to his apartment.

Had he taken the time to eat this evening? She hoped so. His collapse earlier that day had shocked her. She had watched the colour drain from him and almost in slow motion slide to the floor. Her medical training had kicked in, the basics you just didn’t forget. He had been so cold beneath her touch. Purple smudges beneath his closed eyes, brought into sharp relief by the chalky white pallor of his skin. She wondered if he had been ill, it would account for his weight loss. He was at least a stone lighter than he had been when she had first met him. He had come round quickly, embarrassed by the fuss. Once he had eaten he had seemed alright but occasionally she fancied she saw some haunted look appear in his expressive eyes.

The tension in her shoulders increased as she found herself considering that he had shared his evening meal with a girlfriend. She taunted herself with images of him sharing his home with somebody, maybe even with Ros. She groaned, what should it matter to her who he spent his evening with? The little voice in her mind taunted her, because she wanted him.

She picked up the small card with his number on, her fingers traced over the letters in his name, Lucas North. Even reading it sent a frisson of excitement down her spine. She had been shocked to discover he had not lied about his name. He had been right, back at the conference, she would never have believed that it was his real name. She sighed at the memory of his words in the car.

“I didn’t want to be some nameless stranger.”

He had spent his life being a nameless stranger. Why should it have mattered so much to him, that with her at least, he wasn’t a nameless stranger? Had he given his real name for her benefit, or his?

She looked down at the card again. If she rang what would she say when he answered. Another awful thought popped into her mind, what would she do if a woman answered? What would she do if the woman was Ros? She could imagine stumbling and stammering in horrified embarrassment and then hanging up.

Call, he had said if she needed anything. The thing was she didn’t need anything. Liar, the annoying voice in her head taunted, you need him. Yes, she did but she couldn’t just call him up and announce that. She sipped at her whisky as she paced about the room thinking of a reason to make the call. It came to here her quite suddenly. It was a perfectly good reason to call. Hoping he would spend time chatting to her, she retrieved her mobile phone from her bag. She wouldn’t want MI5 wondering why she had been on the hotel phone to Lucas for so long. She smiled, she was even starting to think like a spy.

Taking a gulp of whisky for courage she slowly began to dial his number.

Lucas North’s flat 22.00hrs.

He didn’t normally drink alone, which meant he hardly ever drank, but he had stopped at an Off Licence after dropping her off knowing he would not be able to sleep without some assistance. He undid the bottle of Ciroc Vodka and poured a glass. Leaving it on the side in the kitchen, he went through to the bathroom. He glanced at the shower, shivered and put the plug in the bath turning the taps on. He allowed the water to run slowly, pouring a cap full of muscle soak under the water and he watched as the bubbles form. Maybe a bath would help soak away the tension in his shoulders? His body was bone tired but his mind was buzzing and unsettled. Waiting for the bath to fill he slipped off his shoes and socks. Reaching for his shirt he pulled it over his head catching a glimpse of his body in the mirror. Still too thin despite his best efforts to eat more. The problem was, the endless running he did day and night, to escape his troubled visions and the emptiness of the apartment, burnt away all the calories than that he was consuming.

He was still getting used to the tattoos disappearing. Only the domes on his back remained comma one for each year of his imprisonment. He had spent huge chunks of time in solitary confinement. Occasionally the guards would let him out for a week or two, allowing him to walk in the prison yard, feel the warm sun or biting cold depending on the time of year. Then cruelly they would snatch the privilege away, pushing him back into his darkened cell, laughing at his begging and pleading not to go back. Back to months spent alone in near darkness. It was during the spells out of solitary that he acquired the tattoos . So much part of the culture of prison life Russia. As Lucas had told Harry you had to fit in because if you didn’t you were dead.

He was seeing a plastic surgeon privately to have them removed. He had been lucky, laser removal had developed while he had been a prisoner and the equipment his surgeon was using meant that there had been no visible scarring left. His surgeon also explained because these tattoos were not made with traditional inks they were responding very well to the laser. Soon they would be gone and at last he would not feel so dirty and unclean. Apart from Harry and his surgeon, Kate was the only person who had seen them. An image appeared in his mind of Kate gently tracing the tattoos with her lips. His fingers lightly touched his chest where the Blake image had been.

He walked bare foot back into the kitchen and picked up his glass. The kitchen was spotless, the dishes from his evening meal already in the dishwasher. Lucas hated clutter.

He wandered across to the window looking out across the city, his eyes moving to the area her hotel was in. Was she alright he wondered, today must have been a considerable ordeal. Sometimes, because this was how the officers of MI5 lived everyday, it was easy to forget how far from normal their lives were. Just this morning she would have sat down to breakfast, fed her cat, looked at the paper, all those normal everyday things people did, not considering that by the end of the day she would be in a strange, all be it luxurious, hotel suite under an assumed name. It must have been a lot to take in. He glanced at his phone, considering whether he should ring her.

He sipped his vodka. This was yet another thing that had changed in the eight years he was away. Once Vodka had been a harsh unrefined spirit. One that was not designed to be savoured on its own but to be knocked back in one go. Now though things had changed, Vodka had a new smarter image. This was the first grape based Vodka and had a sophisticated fruity flavour and was definitely one to be appreciated in an unhurried manner. He remember drinking Vodka with Kate, remembering how surprised he was that she drank single malt whisky. Remembering what that whisky tasted like on her lips.

He slightly, he really should stop doing this to himself. He moved back to the bathroom, turned off the taps and tested the water. Far too hot. He would have to let it cool for a while before he got in.

He walked with languid grace back into his living room. Looking through his music collection he selected a disc and put into his music system. The sound of R.E.M filled the room. Lucas was only just catching up with music of the last nine years. More often than not he selected music he had listened to before his Russian days. A smile crossed his lips. He and Tom Quinn had watched R.E.M at Glastonbury in 1999. It had been a boozed filled, muddy weekend. Neither of them had been into drugs , but if they had been, there were plenty to be had. They had camped in a field with thousands of others, returning home exhausted dirty and good friends. Lucas sighed, Tom had left the service while he had been in prison. Scarred by too many horrific events to carry on. Harry hadn’t known where he had gone, the service had given him a new identity. Lucas hoped he was happy where ever he was.

This was the thing that Lucas was struggling with the most, there was nobody left from the old days only Malcolm and Harry. Even his family were different. They were overwhelmed when he was released, after eight years they had believed him dead. He had gone home for a while but he had felt like a stranger, an outsider The problem was eight years was a long time to be away, things had happened to the family that Lucas was no part of. They had not understood his decision to remain with MI5. Although he tried to explain, they just did not comprehend it. So he had left, promising to stay in touch. He phoned weekly and this seemed to be enough. Enough he guessed for then them to know he was alive and well.

His mind moved back to Kate. She was the only other one who was still around from his pre Russia days. All his other friends and his ex wife had moved on. All had families and mortgages, all except Kate who was still alone. That was the difference between them: she was alone, while he was lonely. He glanced at the phone wondering if he should ring.

He was still thinking about it when his mobile rang.

He picked it up, no caller ID. He answered speaking quietly.

“Hello.”

“Hi it’s Kate. I hope I am not disturbing you. You weren’t sleeping?”

He smiled, the decision to speak to her out of his hands.

“No I wasn’t. Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to ask about going back on to The Grid tomorrow. I don’t have a pass so I was thinking I wouldn’t be let in.”

“I’m sure Harry will have left a message with security about you, but if you like I could meet you in the morning. The hotel is walking distance from Thames House.”

She sighed. Stupid, what had she expected him to say? That they should spend the night and then go in together?

“Thanks Lucas,” she said quietly. What should she do now, hang up?

“Are you sure you're alright? Today must have been a little overwhelming at times.”

She smiled, touched at the concern in his voice.

“That’s an understatement. To tell you the truth I am finding it hard to unwind.”

“Have you eaten, tried a bath or shower?” he asked.

“Yeah I ordered from room service, the food was excellent. I had a long shower afterwards.”

Lucas’ mouth went dry both at the image that came into his mind of her in the shower and his own fear of them. He pushed his fear aside and thought of how she would look with water sluicing over her honey tinged skin.

“I used the shower gel and lotion in the basket. Do they re-stock do you think?” she asked.

He wondered if she had any idea how much she was turning him on.

He cleared his throat.

“Um yeah I am sure they do.”

“Are you alright? You sound tired, I guess it's been a day for you as well? Did you have supper with your girlfriend?” She gave herself a mental slap; that was about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. “Sorry that’s none of my business,” she apologised.

“It’s OK Kate. I don’t have a girlfriend and as to your first question I am just a little tense.” Some parts more tense than others, he thought.

“Oh maybe you should try a shower,” she said. A memory of a shower they shared eight years ago heated her skin. She brought her glass to her lips to sip at her whisky.

“Funny you should say that, I had just run a bath. I was about to get in when you called.”

She choked on the whisky, the image that popped into her mind of him lowering himself into the water, causing her to cough and splutter.

“You OK?” he said, when she stopped coughing.

“Oh yeah my drink went down the wrong way. Don’t let me stop you getting into the tub.” The thought of talking to him while he lay in the bath was quite a turn on.

“What are you drinking Kate?”

“Whisky it’s an island malt, it has a really earthy taste,” she sipped again. “It lingers on the tongue.”

“You witch, tell me you know what you are doing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

“Don’t feign innocence with me. I bet you are as turned on as I am. I bet your skin is burning through your clothes.”

“I only have a bath robe on, if I get too warm I could just undo the tie,” she whispered.

Lucas stood and headed back into the bathroom.

“I’m going to slip into the tub now Kate, what do you want to do while I am relieving my tense muscles?”

“I was thinking about a massage but the spa won’t be open.”

“Kate do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Go and fetch some of that body lotion. Oh and switch to hands free you’re going to need them,” he whispered.

Later she would question what she was doing allowing herself to be seduced over her phone but now she just allowed him to lead her on a journey of intimate discovery.

The water in his bath had turned cool he should move he had never done anything remotely like that before. He spoke before getting out.

“hey are you relaxed now?”

“Any more relaxed and I would be a puddle.” She was more than a little embarrassed. “Lucas I don’t normally…”

He cut her off.

“Shh… Neither do I. It was wonderful and we’re both consenting adults. I guess the rules just changed Kate, you are not a stranger any more. I haven’t dated anybody since my wife…God I don’t even know how to ask you,” he paused.

“Yes Lucas I’d love to go out on a date,” she told him. Funny how sometimes he seemed so comfortable and confident. Then at others really unsure and vulnerable.

“Let me get dry and I will call you back. I would just like to talk to you for a while. I’d come over but then neither of us would sleep,” Lucas said.

They sat talking in there their respective beds watching the same soppy movie till until gone midnight. Reluctantly Lucas brought the evening to a close.

“Goodnight Kate, I will see you in the morning half past seven. I will buy you breakfast,” he told her.

“Night Lucas.”

Kate snuggled under the covers and nodded into a deep and restful sleep.