‘There is no need for this,’ Goodie said to Nick after she’d practically dragged him away from everyone in the living room. It had taken surprisingly little time to convince Katie that he could accommodate her family plus Benji for the weekend. Various excuses had come into play: his mother loves children (this one was true); it would be too complicated for him to alter the security arrangements at this stage what with MI6 being involved (this was stretching the truth – MI6 may have been keen that he was protected but he was sure they didn’t give a monkey’s about the logistics); his family would be offended (this was an outright lie – the Chamberses were thick-skinned in the extreme).
Fortunately, with the mention of MI6, Katie’s eyes had widened almost comically before she had leaned in and asked: ‘Do you think they could be watching us right now? From satellites?’ She sounded both terrified and hopeful. ‘It’s like that film the 51st State, isn’t it? You’re like Will Smith.’ Nick had fought his smile down with ruthless efficiency, widened his own eyes and blinked slowly. ‘Oh my God; you can’t even speak about it, can you?’ Katie whispered. ‘Say no more; I’ll go back to The Coach House and talk to Sam.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Nick told her, and she’d nodded distractedly, not for one second questioning the fact that he wasn’t taking his close protection officer with him, which had been one of the main points of his argument. ‘You do know that that little boy has slipped away again.’ Stealth-wise, Nick would have to put Benji right up there with Goodie: he’d only just noticed the little shit was gone.
‘Bloody hell,’ Katie said, scanning the house and gardens. ‘He’s a slippery bugger that one.’
‘Is he yours?’ Nick asked. There was no resemblance and he’d noticed Benji calling her Katie.
‘Oh no,’ Katie said as she started walking down the drive, Nick easily keeping pace with her short strides – her voice was so full of relief that he almost laughed. ‘His mum, Sarah, is my best friend and his dad, Rob, is Sam’s partner in the security company. Sarah and Rob have gone away for their first child-free week in ten years and all the kids –they’ve got five in total by the way – apart from Benji have gone to their grandparents’.
‘Why not Benji?’
‘There’s no way they could handle him,’ Katie muttered darkly. ‘He needs a trained professional.’
‘Are you a nanny then?’
‘Me? I’m a GP; I meant Sam.’
‘Sam’s a trained nanny?’
Katie burst out laughing. ‘No you twp bugger; I meant Sam’s military training. That’s what you need with Benji – tracking skills, endurance training, counter-intelligence stuff.’
Nick started laughing.
‘I’m not kidding,’ Katie said, now deadly serious.
When they arrived at The Coach House Nick stood with his arms crossed over his chest and an amused expression on his face as Katie told her husband how they had to stay at the main house, giving some garbled explanation about satellites and national security, even bizarrely adding in another Will Smith reference for good measure. Sam had listened patiently, sipping his tea. When her rant was over he simply looked at Nick and raised an eyebrow in the non-verbal style which seemed to be his main method of communicating, and Nick just shrugged one shoulder.
‘Fine,’ was Sam’s one-word agreement, which earned him an excited kiss on the cheek before Katie dumped Anya into his arms and sped out of the kitchen to pack up their stuff.
‘I don’t know your game but I’m watching you, mate,’ Sam said to Nick once Katie was out of hearing distance, and Nick just nodded, smiling slowly.
*****
‘Why are you hiding in here, loser?’ Benji said as he sauntered over to the darkest corner of the library, where Goodie was curled up in an armchair. Goodie put down the book she was reading and narrowed her eyes at Benji.
‘How did you get in, kid?’ she asked. ‘You know you’ll get in trouble if the Chamberses find out you broke into the house.’
‘Broke in?’ Benji scoffed. ‘You must be joking. That Nick bloke practically dragged us all up here. We’ve all moved into the “guest wing”. Ha! It’s like a whole other house. Rich people are weird.’
‘What are you talking a –’
‘Oh, by the way he’s looking for you, so are Katie and Sam. They’re so dumb; I knew exactly where you were, all I had to do was ask where the library was.’
‘What are you all doing in this house?’ Goodie asked.
‘We’re spending the weekend.’
‘No you are not,’ she told him, jumping to her feet and stalking across the room. Benji caught her arm as she went past, and she paused to look down at him.
‘What’s with that Nick bloke anyway?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He looks at you funny and he … he pushed you behind him like he thought he was the boss of you or something.’
‘He’s not the boss of me, Benji,’ Goodie told him, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘You know that, nobody is the boss of me.’
‘And you’re weird too,’ Benji said, regarding Goodie’s stance analytically. ‘You don’t usually get mad like now, and outside you were … well, you were acting all … I dunno, twitchy.’
‘I was not twitchy,’ Goodie could feel her face heat.
‘And that!’ Benji said, jumping up and down and pointing to her face. ‘You’re all red. You never show any feelings and stuff. It’s weird.’ Goodie puffed out a breath and tried to claw back her aura of lethal calm that she was used to, but for some reason having Katie under the same roof as Nick and his family was making her feel … well … fuck, she was twitchy.
‘Shut up, squirt, and tell me where they are.’
*****
‘Nick, for Christ’s sake what’s going on?’ Goodie heard Clive sneer as she made her way down the corridor to the kitchen. ‘Why are you letting staff invite their bloody mates and even worse their mates’ kids to your gaff? You do know that there are three children in that kitchen right now. Three.’ Clive grunted in disgust and Goodie heard him add under his breath: ‘One was bad enough.’
From Nick’s furious expression, and knowing how much he loved his niece, Goodie was pretty sure he’d heard the arsehole as well.
‘Well, Clive,’ he said, his voice so low and dangerous that it actually shocked Goodie – he was always so charming, so laid back. ‘Why don’t you get the fuck out of my gaff then, and stay away from my sister.’
‘Calm down, mate,’ Clive laughed a little nervously. ‘Just kidding around; no need to get radgie. You’ve got to admit, it’s weird enough having a little girl provide your protection without her mates and their kids getting in on the act.’
‘That little girl could fuck you up without batting an eyelid, you prick,’ Nick told him. ‘Advice: don’t piss her off.’
‘Hello, boys,’ Goodie said, deciding to make her presence known. Benji was standing next to her smirking – that was one of the things she liked about the kid: he knew when to keep his mouth shut, he hadn’t said a word or moved a muscle throughout that whole exchange. It was like she always told him: knowledge is power. She moved to go past them towards the hum of noise from the kitchen, but paused inches away from Clive in order to turn to him, stare him straight in the eye, and bat one of her eyelids before moving away.
Once she made it into the kitchen Goodie sighed as she saw just how settled in Katie and the kids were.
Control was very important to Goodie. She had spent her childhood in possession of so little of it that now she found it almost essential. And in all honesty staying in control of her life was usually a piece of cake. She had nobody to answer to, no ties or responsibilities … nothing. This, she always told herself, was good; it was safe. So what if sometimes she lay awake at night staring into the dark and feeling it invade her consciousness? Darkness and emptiness had been a part of her life for so long she wasn’t sure she could live another way or that she would even want to try.
It was certainly safer this way. Only two people knew her background: Sam, she knew, would never tell anyone; and Natasha … Natasha wanted the truth to stay buried as much as Goodie, maybe more. So yes, control, keeping her secrets, keeping the past buried: these were all very important to Goodie, and she did not like the feeling that it was slipping.
You wouldn’t think that a small, overexcited, ridiculously friendly, touchy-feely woman like Katie would be dangerous to someone like Goodie. But in Katie’s mind Goodie had saved her life three years ago and Katie was not going to forget it. She’d told Goodie: ‘Our way lies together. With the speed of Allah. You have saved my life. Christian. Now I’ll stay with you, until I’ve saved yours. That’s my vow.’ True, it was a direct quote from Robin Hood Prince of Thieves and was delivered in Katie’s attempt at Morgan Freeman’s Arabic accent; but she meant every word.
Not that Katie could actually stay with Goodie, but she did make sure she was in her life any way she could be in various over-familiar and invasive ways, exactly like this current episode. Compounding Katie’s feeling of gratitude towards Goodie, which fuelled her crazy behaviour, Goodie had made the mistake of revealing a little too much about what went down in Colombia with Sam nine years ago. So, not only did Katie believe she owed her life to Goodie, but also that of her husband. The fact that both times Goodie was simply doing her job was totally lost on Katie.
Goodie squared her shoulders. There was little chance of removing the Katie Tornado from this situation anyway, and there was no way Goodie could remain hidden away in the library; not if she wanted to keep an eye on her.
*****
‘Unlikely mate of yours,’ Ed said to Goodie. They were both sitting at the kitchen table, slightly removed from the chaos around the large island. Katie was attempting to teach Tilly and Bertie how to pronounce various Welshisms, and then demanding they teach her to ‘speak like a posh bird’. Results were mixed but, even Goodie had to admit, pretty funny. Occasionally she was called upon to throw in a bit of Russian and Ed was made to add various Essexisms such as ‘sharr-arrp’ and ‘minging’, but they had not as yet been dragged away from the kitchen table. Anya had found the most direct route to the biscuits and was being cuddled by Nick’s mum who was intermittently sneaking her some from the jar next to her. Nick’s charm and dimple were thoroughly winning over Katie, Benji and even Sam (who was naturally cynical and distrustful – not quite as bad as Goodie, but close) and the kitchen was full of laughter.
‘She’s tricky to shake,’ Goodie muttered into her coffee, and Ed smiled, his eyes drifting back to Tilly, who had her head thrown back in laughter.
‘Why don’t you do something about that?’ she asked, and Ed jerked in his seat, his eyes snapping from Tilly to Goodie.
‘What you on about then?’ he said sharply.
‘You know what I mean.’
Ed sighed. ‘She’s got a bloke, Goodie.’
Goodie watched as Clive skirted Benji and Arabella as if they were contaminated with a flesh-eating virus, making his way to the kettle.
Anya wriggled her way down Nick’s mum and then waddled her over to where Clive was standing.
‘Live, live, live,’ she shouted, grabbing onto his legs with her chocolatey fingers, proud of her ability to remember the stranger’s name. Ed was focused back on Tilly again, and nobody other than Goodie could see Clive’s legs or Anya, as they were on the opposite side of the kitchen island. So nobody saw Clive give his leg a rough shake so that Anya landed on her bottom next to him. Goodie’s hands tightened on her cup of coffee, but she controlled her fury for now; he would keep.
‘Oh, baby!’ cried Katie, as Sam moved round the island to pick up his daughter.
‘Live,’ Anya sniffled miserably into her father’s neck, and Goodie felt a fresh wave of anger that the little girl should have had her first lesson that the world was not always the rosy place her mother painted it; that some adults could not be trusted.
‘For somebody who’s made the most significant breakthrough in the 21st century, you’re still a couple of kopeks short of a ruble,’ Goodie muttered under her breath to Ed.
‘Come on, Goodie,’ Benji said suddenly, cutting off anything Ed might have said in reply, ‘do your thing. You know Annie loves it.’
‘Benji,’ Katie said in a warning tone, which Goodie was sure she meant to sound dangerous but came out as more like another bad impression of Morgan Freeman, ‘Goodie knows not to do that ever again in front of children. It is not appropri –’
Goodie saw an opportunity to annoy Katie, and she was just about angry enough to take it. ‘Sure thing, squirt,’ Goodie said, standing from the table as all eyes swung to her.
‘Goodie, I don’t think –’
‘Mrs B., can I help with that?’ Goodie asked, cutting Katie off. Mrs Beckett handed Goodie the knife she was using to peel and cut the vegetables for the casserole she was making. Goodie started chopping the vegetables slowly and felt Katie relax as Bertie started talking about the back orchard and what they were going to do about the tree rot. Goodie let her mind drift; she didn’t register the room gradually falling more and more silent, or the fact that Anya had stopped crying. It was just her and the knife.
