blog alive.
The Spy Who Came into the Pavilion
Chapter 2
Kerry made good time driving down, and it was at a little after 7am that he parked down the
side of the house and let himself in through the back door.
“Is that you, Kerry?”
“Yeah, Mum, it’s me. Can I be cheeky and ask you for some breakfast while I go and change?”
“Of course, darling. Bacon, egg, sausage, fried slice?”
“Two of each, thanks, and a mug of tea.”
“Coming up. Love the new shoes, by the way.”
Twenty minutes later and looking a lot more like the stereotype of the powerful businessman’s
trusted Personal Assistant, Gary Haskins was tucking into Mum’s spread.
“Well,” said Pam Haskins, “What brings Kerry all the way down here from Manchester on a
Saturday morning, and what’s Gary got planned for the weekend?”
“Same answer to both questions, Mum.” replied Gary, “Work, you might have guessed.”
“I still don’t understand why George Cooper can live ten minutes down the road from here, and
you have to live in Manchester,” said Pam.
“Come on, we’ve been through this before, Mum,” said Gary. “Between the petro-chemical
division in Ellesmere Port, the new retail development near Chester, the telecoms in
Mytholmroyd, the renewables operation in Morecambe and the half a dozen other companies
strung between Grimsby and Wrexham, Manchester is the ideal location for me to get round
everywhere, keeping a personal eye for Mr Cooper on the UK end of his operations.”
“And for Kerry to enjoy herself,” smiled his mother.
“Just be glad I don’t have responsibility for the quarter of the Australian Northern Territory that
Cooper Amalgamated owns,” said Gary.
“But what’s so special about this weekend, dear?” asked Pam.
“Well, don’t spread this around down at the corner shop, but Cooper Amalgamated have come
to certain arrangements with certain associates of a certain Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin to
acquire certain rights to certain mineral deposits in certain locations within certain former
Soviet central Asian republics. And before you ask me whether I’m certain, yes, I’m sure. But
problems have cropped up. Our man over in Tashkent, that’s Uzbekistan, Yevgeny Piotrevich
Kropotkin, was supposed to recruit a character named Жosimov, whose significance even I don’t
know, but who is apparently vital to the project, to facilitate the deal. Three days ago, on Mr Cooper’s
orders, I informed Yevgeny that if he failed to recruit Жosimov he would lose his job (although I think Mr
Cooper might be bluffing, but I can’t be sure). Anyway, Yevgeny has panicked, and is on his way to
see Mr Cooper at The Grange. And Mr Cooper won’t be happy about that.”
“I can imagine,” said Pam. “And how is dear Belinda? And The Queen of the Night?”
“You know Belinda. She’s just...Belinda. And, apparently, this is a Belinda weekend. If I need to
contact Mr Cooper on a Belinda weekend, it has to be in person. Those are the orders. And I
wish you wouldn’t make these digs about Mrs C. Once you get to know her, she’s harmless. For
one thing, I’ve heard her sing, and she’s no Diana Damrau.”
“She wouldn’t thank you for calling her harmless, I’m sure. Anyway, how can you be sure that
this Yevgeny isn’t already here, dear?”
”There are no direct flights from Tashkent on Fridays, so he’d have to change in Moscow. Our
Tashkent Office confirms he was with them until 5pm local. Late flight to Vnukovo, early flight
out of Sheremetyevo or Domodedovo, three hour time difference, arriving Heathrow no earlier
than 07.30. Customs, passport control, pick up hire car, drive, and arrive here at 09.00 at the
absolute earliest. He must have texted me during his Moscow layover.”
“I can see why Mr Cooper appreciates your thoroughness. But are you sure you should be
telling me all of his business secrets, dear?” asked Pam.
“Mum, I’ve been telling you everything for as long as I can remember. When I came out when I
was 14yo. And then about Kerry, a year or so later. And when Simon broke my heart, and
everything else. And you’ve always been there for me, my best friend and the keeper of my
secrets, and you’ve taught me makeup, and heels, and everything. I don’t think you’re going to
change now.”
“Well,” replied Pam, “I couldn’t let my lovely little girl be my miserable little boy, could I? But,”
she continued, “what I was meaning to ask you was, should you really be telling me that Mr
Cooper is in the process of trying to defraud Vladimir Putin?”
“You may say that, Mum. I couldn’t possibly comment. Anyway, I’d best be off. I might be back
later, or maybe tomorrow. Whichever, remind me to show you my new latex dress.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” said Pam, as Gary kissed her forehead. “Just keep a lookout for the
KGB, is my advice.”
“FSB, Mum”
“What?”
“Federal Security Bureau. It replaced the KGB back in 1995. Federal'naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti
Rossiyskoy Federatsii.”
“Now, now, remember the wise words of Sheldon Cooper, dear. Nobody likes a know it all.”
Gary just grinned, picked up his small suitcase, climbed into the car and set off on the ten
minute journey to The Grange.
Will had been awoken earlier by Andy’s oral attention to his nipples, but that had been some
fifty minutes ago, and they were both now relaxing in each other’s arms. Over the last few
weeks, Andy had developed what Will could only describe as a ‘sultry’ face in bed, although
Andy had sworn that he had no idea what Will meant. Whichever way you looked at it though,
several more sessions of bedsport, to use a favourite medieval expression, would have been on
the cards, had Will not said, “Sorry, but I need to catch Kat as soon as I can.”
“Oh? Tiring of me?” grinned Andy.
Will studiously ignored Andy’s attempt at humour, and hurriedly dressed. “If Kat could find a
place in the team for me, it would be really great, wouldn’t it? I’ve not played at all so far this
season, but Budgie reckons that there could be vacancies, what with holidays, and with it being
the start of the harvest. And leg spin is always useful, so I should have a good chance. But I
don’t want to leave it too late to speak to her. You don’t mind, do you?”
“I think it would be wonderful,” said Andy. “I was never as good a player as you, but it will be
great to watch. But do you think Kat will be up and about this early?”
“Game Day?” said Will. “No problem.”
Their farewell kiss lasted no more than five minutes, before Will headed off to the pub.
Normally, the village would be quiet this early on a Saturday morning, deserted even. So, Will
was surprised by the amount of action on view as he strolled towards the Fullerton Arms. The
first person he saw was Jane, leaving the vicarage, and looking somewhat furtive as she did so.
Her ice blue latex gown, low cut, backless and slit to the waist, which had attracted so much
admiration at the Extravaganza, wasn’t exactly ‘pop down to the village shop first thing in the
morning’ wear. Normally Jane would have been oblivious to such niceties, so Will could only
assume that she was thinking of Mayfield’s reputation as she tried to make herself as
inconspicuous as possible by taking the lane opposite the vicarage, down the side of the church,
which then became a footpath across the field and back in the direction of home. Whichever
was her motive, it meant that she didn’t catch sight of Will, who made a note to himself to tell
Andy so that they could tease her.
Will was then surprised to see a blue Civic parked in the car park of the Fullerton Arms. Its
driver was looking at least as furtive as Jane. From his movements and actions, Will reckoned
that he was in the middle of a heated phone call. He rang off abruptly and seemed to begin to
use the map on his phone to work out some precise locations. A stranger in the village so early
in the morning?
Will was about to step into the road, to cross to the pub, when he heard the sound of a
powerful car engine approaching. He paused, and a couple of seconds later a Mazda MX5 (the 2
litre Sport model) swooped past and, to Will’s surprise, applied the brakes and glided into
Strawberry Lane. A few moments later, silence. So, the Coopers had an early morning visitor?
Interesting. Anyway, Will kept his mind on the important matter in hand (getting a place in the
cricket team), and was soon knocking on the door of Kat and JoJo’s flat at the top of the steps
by the side of the pub.
Consequently, he didn’t get to see yet another new face in the village. A mysterious woman,
thirty years old maybe, dark hair, glamourous in an exotic sort of way, who was seated in a
head turning bright red Audi A5 Cabriolet outside Polly Evans’ sweet shop. And she was
surveying the whole village scene through some seriously powerful looking binoculars.
To Be Continued
