19
What Hollywood don’t mention about being knocked into a rockery and then landed on by a fully-grown man, even one as skinny as Lucas, is that it’s enough to drive every single scrap of air from every last corner of your lungs and that hurts!
For several moments I could only gasp, mind blank in the shock of the landing…then…hiss…silencer? Lethal! Guards…need guards here now!
I fought to scream, but my body thrust each lungful of air straight back out in order to heave in another. Was the assassin walking towards us right now? Lucas was pinning me down, wriggling to place the thickest part of his body—such as it was—over my head and chest. Didn’t make a sound, though, blast it! Winded too?
I’ve got to scream, I’ve got to, got to… The assassin would just shoot Lucas, roll him off, then shoot me, I had to make a noise…
Finally! I managed to hold a breath long enough to let it out past my vocal chords. More like the wheeze of a dying cat than the scream of someone in mortal peril, but surely those guards who ever since Brussels had lurked near me oh-so-casually would hear it? Please, Lord?
I struggled to hold another breath, to try again. There…a VSS guy tore around the side of the rockery with a handful of plain-clothes Swiss Guards behind him.
“Hey! Get off her!” He rushed towards us, nonLee in hand. Red with fury.
Oh, Lord help us! I managed to extricate an arm, point in the direction Lucas had been looking and wheeze, “Gun!”
He jerked to a halt, face frozen as his entire understanding of what was going on was rearranged in a moment of intense thought. Then he spun around and dropped on one knee, jabbing at the others with his free hand. “You, you, you, stay here, the rest of you, follow me!” Up and off, running towards the gunman, no, no, no! Don’t get killed, please? I could see Snakey in my mind, Georg Friedrich raising his pistol… I waited for the evil hiss, the screaming…
Three of the guards knelt in a triangle around us, nonLees out and ready, clearly positioning themselves as human shields. When I tried to wriggle out from underneath my original human shield, he resisted.
“No, stay there, Mrs. Verrall!” ordered one of the guards. “Er…if he doesn’t mind.”
Lucas clearly didn’t mind; like trying to detach a limpet. But…something warm and wet…I held my hand where I could see it. Blood, oh no! “Lucas, how badly are you hurt?”
No reply. He just hunched over me more protectively than ever. Not winded, no, just flipping out. I patted his back over as best I could, but it was mostly his arm that was wet.
“Lucas is hurt,” I told the presumably senior man who’d spoken before.
“How badly?”
“I can’t tell!”
The guard jerked his head to the guy on the rockery side of the triangle, furthest from where I’d indicated the danger lay. “Take a look?”
I waited. Still no shots or screaming.
“It’s his arm and it’s not serious,” said the delegated guard after what felt like an age. “It’ll keep for a few minutes until the area is secure.”
I breathed a little easier. Literally as well as metaphorically. I was getting my breath back. An age of waiting, then suddenly guards were everywhere, lots of VSS and a load more Swiss Guards, these ones in uniform. From the babble of noise, they’d caught the would-be assassin. Eduardo appeared, looking deeply peeved, and started questioning everyone in sight.
Time for another attempt to extricate myself.
“Could we get a doctor over here?” I tried to ease out of Lucas’s grasp—he renewed his clutching. “It’s okay, it’s okay now. All safe, the man’s caught, come on, you can let me out now…” After quite a lot of soothing and easing and gentle prying of his fingers apart, I managed to slide right out.
He sat up at once, watching me intently—immense strain on his face. I slipped a reassuring arm around his shoulders, eyeing his arm. There was a bloody tear in his sleeve and clearly another in his flesh below. But it probably really wasn’t too bad. Thank you, Lord! But…comparing his height to mine…that bullet had been meant for my head.
“Lucas, thank you so much,” I said softly. “You saved my life. Again.” My stomach was turning over and my hands beginning to shake. I drew a couple of deep breaths, fighting the shock. Lucas was freaking out enough for the pair of us.
Lucas eyed Eduardo warily as Eduardo approached slowly and crouched beside us, empty hands held out in plain sight. So Father Mark wasn’t the only one who thought Lucas might be unpredictable at a time like this.
“Margaret, are you all right? What happened?”
I swallowed and tried to speak calmly. “I’m fine. Lucas was just showing me a flower when he saw something—man with a gun, I assume—he flattened me in the rockery, I heard a hiss—which I’m guessing must’ve been a silencer, since Lucas is shot. I was terribly winded but eventually—felt like eventually, anyway—I managed to scream and the guards came.”
“Anything to add to that, Mr. Everington?”
Lucas breathed in shallow pants, a deep, deep furrow in his brow as he fought to remain alert and engaged with the world.
“He’s really not going to be able to answer your questions just now,” I said. “Way too many strangers around here and most of them are holding weapons.”
Eduardo grimaced slightly. “Nothing we can do about that quite yet. I’m afraid you’ll have to be closely guarded until we’ve ascertained there was only the one.”
Lucas twitched slightly. I touched his hand gently and…thank goodness, there was Doctor Frederick. Quickly pointed in our direction, he deposited his big first aid satchel on the grass beside us. “Are you okay, Margaret?”
“I’m fine, it’s Lucas.” I gestured to the bloody arm like a TV-presenter.
“So it is.” Doctor Frederick peered at Lucas’s arm for a moment then unzipped his bag. “Right, looks like a flesh wound to me, but let’s get that sleeve off.” He produced a pair of scissors with a flourish and leaned towards us…
Lucas sprang—one hand slammed into Doctor Frederick’s arm, sending the scissors flying, the other reached for his throat as Doctor Frederick went over backwards on the grass.
I lunged, wrapping a restraining arm around Lucas’s chest and grabbing the wrist of the hand groping for the scissors. “Lucas, stop it! It’s Doctor Frederick, for pity’s sake, you know him! He wasn’t going to hurt you! He wasn’t going to hurt me!”
A long moment…then Lucas allowed me to draw his hand away from Doctor Frederick’s throat, scrambling back a few paces, where he crouched, rocking slightly, hands buried in his hair. Looked like he wanted to just run away…but couldn’t because he still wasn’t sure if I was safe.
Doctor Frederick sat up shakily, rubbed his neck and his arm once or twice and retrieved his scissors, a deep flush covering his face. “That…may not have been the smartest thing I ever did.”
Glad he wasn’t harmed—also relieved that he blamed himself.
“Waving a sharp object at an overwrought and at this moment justifiably over-protective madman?” Eduardo hadn’t tried to wade into the mess. “Really wasn’t, no. I think Margo had better deal with that arm for now.”
Doctor Frederick handed me a small first aid kit willingly enough, promising to come and take a proper look at Lucas in the morning, and Lucas followed me uncomplainingly as I led him away, his hand shaking in mine. He needed some fuchsia therapy. He looked over his shoulder at Snail and Unicorn only a couple of times—Eduardo had deliberately chosen faces familiar to him to bodyguard me, thank goodness.
“Margo? Margo?”
Bane? “Bane? I’m here.”
“Margo!” It was Bane, on his own, hurrying along, shouting my name, his stick swiping from side to side…heading straight for a gravestone…
“Bane, there’s a headstone, go right…”
He went right a bit, then pretty much broke into a run. I gently detached Lucas from my hand and hurried to meet him. Didn’t want any more overreactions.
“Margo?” Bane gasped, as I caught his hands.
“It’s me…”
He flung his arms around me and held me as though I was the last solid thing in the world. “Margo, are you all right? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Bane. Calm down, everything’s all right.”
“I heard…there’d been an attack. You involved! And someone hurt!”
“Lucas is a little bit shot, but thankfully it’s nothing serious.”
“Shot?”
“A man with a gun.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Generally known as an assassin. Only a would-be one, in this case, thank God. I suppose we shouldn’t be too surprised, after what happened in Brussels.”
Bane clutched me tighter. “You’re all right?”
“I really am fine. Very happy to have a hug, though.”
Bane managed to ease up enough to stroke my hair. “God help me, I was so frightened!”
“And you came by yourself,” I said proudly.
“Uh…yeah. I just dashed straight out, y’know? Kept asking people the way. But it really wasn’t that bad.”
Probably didn’t seem bad at all, with an enormous distraction like that! A silver lining to this horrible event?
“I…er…kind of need to get back to Lucas, Bane. He’s really stressing out. I was just taking him home to bandage him up.” Before Bane could get hurt by this, I added, “He knocked me out the way. Got shot instead of me.”
Bane blinked and allowed me to disentangle myself from him. “You’d better take care of him. Though…” He followed me as I went back to where the others were waiting. “Why isn’t Doctor Frederick doing it?”
“Because he almost got his own scissors in the throat when he tried,” said Unicorn.
“Oh, hi U. Wait, he what?”
“He made for your beloved with a pair of scissors in his hand, so Mr. Everington put him flat on his back, at which point Margo intervened and was deputized.”
“You’re a doctor now as well as a counselor, hmm?” teased Bane, clearly light-hearted with relief. “You’re racking up those qualifications, aren’t you?”
“Very funny,” I said—but not too grumpily—taking Lucas in tow again.
21 days
Proving whose orders this man was acting on may be difficult, but he himself will spend the foreseeable future occupied with far more peaceful and productive work, at a certain secure rehabilitation farm in Africa. Probably eating very good food, so we needn’t feel too sorry for him.
Margaret Verrall—blog post, ‘The Impatient Gardener’
I started awake; drew in a convulsive breath. Sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. My heart thudded painfully, fooled by the dream. Shivering, I switched on the light. Directed a hopeful look at Bane. Nope, still sound asleep. Exhausted by the stress of the day. As I was, I just couldn’t stay asleep with these nightmares!
What is wrong with you, brain? Lucas is fine! Stop killing him! Let me sleep.
When we’d reached Lucas’s room, he’d immediately sat down cross-legged on his bed, with his original beloved fuchsia in his lap and his Office book clutched to his chest, gone very, very deep inside. I’d dressed the wound, put a blanket around him, fussed with it a bit and then left him to recover—nothing else to be done, and Bane had gone on ahead to put the kettle on.
“Expect you could do with a cup of something,” he’d said, with that familiar bitter note in his voice—making hot drinks wasn’t something he could do yet.
But by now Lucas would have tidied himself up and gone to bed—hours ago, most likely. He was fine. But my hands were shaking from the dream. All of me was shaking. I clenched my fingers together irritably.
Hang on…something missing. My wedding ring…oh no, it was still in Lucas’s room! I’d taken it off when bandaging the wound, because the cold brush of the metal was making him twitch and it was going to get bloodied. Blast. I’d just have to get it in the morning. I glanced at the clock. Two o’clock. I could hardly get it now.
But…shivering, I rubbed the back of my neck. Stupid, Margo. Lucas is fine. Safer than you, there’s a camera in his room.
It’s dark, though.
What on earth would be wrong? Not hard to see where the nightmares came from, tonight!
But…I’d really hate it if Bane noticed my ring was missing when he touched my hand. I could slip in and get it, and see with my own eyes that Lucas was fine.
No, what if I woke Lucas? I lay down again and pulled the sheets up to my chin. But now I’d thought of it…
Argh! Couldn’t even get back to sleep now!
I struggled not to toss and turn. No need to share my sleepless misery with Bane. Oh, this was stupid! In less than five minutes my wedding ring could be back on my finger and my paranoid subconscious reassured.
Slipping from the bed, I put on my dressing gown and slippers, took the nonLee from the bedside table and stuffed it through the dressing gown belt, then crept out of the bedroom. Bane still slept soundly. He wouldn’t miss me.
The Swiss Guard outside the apartment door started as I emerged. I closed the door before speaking. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.”
“S’okay. Er…I’d better call someone if you’re going somewhere.”
“I’ve just got to get something from Saint Ignatius’s.” That was the name of Lucas’s room. “There’s a camera in there.”
“Oh, right.” The guard relaxed. “Well, I’d still better accompany you to the door.”
He followed me dutifully down the flight of stairs and in a matter of seconds, I was outside Lucas’s room. Even a gentle tap would be cruel at this hour, so I just opened it and slipped inside. Moonlight illuminated the room dimly; the curtains were wide open. Never seen any sign he closed them. Good thing, because I’d not thought to bring a flashlight!
I could make out Lucas’s shape on the bed, anyway, lying on his back, probably because the side he normally lay on had a hole in it, and hear his soft breathing in the silence. He’d put his pajamas on, so he must be feeling better. See, subconscious, all fine.
I’d get my ring and be off home. I tiptoed around to the far side of the bed and slid my hand carefully across the top of the bedside table. What? I felt around more carefully. No ring. Must’ve got knocked onto the floor. Crouching down, I ran my hands over the surrounding carpet. Nothing.
How long should I keep looking? Frustrating to leave without it, but moon or not, it was jolly dark in here.
I made one more pass over the carpet. Nothing. I was leaving, then. Didn’t want to wake Lucas, I’d scare the life out of him. I tensed my muscles to stand, but…
A faint noise from the balcony? The wind?
No. That was a noise on the balcony. And again…a tiny scuff, thud…like…like something landing? I looked quickly over the bed and Lucas’s sleeping form. My heart stopped.
Two shadowy figures were silhouetted behind the glass. One reaching for the handle of the balcony door.
My heart took off again, pounding away. Lord help us, they were after Lucas? He’d made them mad, all right, but…what do I do, what do I do?
If I shouted, the assassins were closer than the guard. Mouth dry, I wriggled the nonLee free of my belt and slipped off the safety catch. Cover? Footboard. I crawled quickly along…thank God the old bed was solid all the way to the ground.
Putting only one eye out from behind the footboard, I poked the nonLee out as well and waited. The door was open, the first man stepping through. Wait, Margo, wait…if you don’t get them both at once, you’ll be for it!
He moved into the room…don’t shoot Lucas, please don’t shoot him yet, wait for your friend. I tried to breathe silently and not pant in terror. If he raised his pistol I’d have to risk it…
But the other man was stepping inside. Did they…yes, they had their backs to the bed…weird, but thank God! They were staring at the other end of the room.
Lord, give me strength.
I rose slightly on my knees, aimed-and-fired, aimed-and-fired…
Both men crumpled silently to the ground. Thank you, Lord; thank you, Angel Margaret. Now I could raise the alarm, if the camera guys hadn’t noticed yet…
Wait…a thought stopped me before I could stand. Three noises.
I hunched down again. Change position…isn’t that what they do in films? Crawling cautiously along the foot of the bed, I peeped around, towards the balcony. Was there another person? The balcony door stood open, everything was silent. Two separate feet touching down, perhaps, but one guy?
Something small and round flew through the glass door. Knobbly and one hundred percent lethal.
It rolled gently to rest against one of the fallen men…