TONIGHT’S DINNER WAS for a hundred and fifty people. All the great and the good of the aviation industry would be in attendance, along with a healthy sprinkling of politicians and a few titled locals. Peng was guest of honour. Everyone wanted to curry favour with China.
The Coyote could strike at any moment.
Champagne was being served in the drawing room. I looked around the grand room with its high ceilings and old Masters on the walls.
Frederick stood with a circle of people. Black tie suited him, but then I had yet to see a man it didn’t. Frederick stopped talking mid-sentence and raised his glass at me.
I swished around the room as I sipped vintage champagne. I scanned the faces of everyone there. They all looked like they belonged. But wasn’t that the point? If the Coyote was here they would’ve made sure they fit in.
*
An immaculately laid U-shaped banqueting table filled Cherwell Castle’s grand dining hall, where gilt-framed portraits of Wycombe’s ancestors stared down at us from panelled walls. Peng was in the position of honour at the centre of the top table. She had Lord Wycombe on her left and on her right a chinless, balding man who was apparently the MP for the area.
I was a few seats down from the corner of the top table, giving me a good vantage point of Peng. I looked round for Frederick and spotted him further down on the opposite side of the room, seated next to Ling Ling.
A scallop and pancetta starter was produced with a flourish.
I sat listening to the man on my right wax lyrical about how everyone should move out of London, the air was so much fresher, the children so much happier and ‘we even grow our own vegetables’.
The man on my left was thankfully over-involved in trying to sleep with the bored woman in diamonds on his other side.
I scanned the room. Nothing but people dressed grandly, small-talking their way through a starter.
The main course was brought out. Pheasant. It was good that having spent the afternoon massacring them at least we were being made to eat them. I took a bite. Or maybe not.
The talk from the countryside lover had moved on to fixed-rate mortgages. There were many hazards in my job, I just never expected being bored to death would be one of them.
I pushed the bits of dry pheasant and new potatoes round my plate. I had thought the build-up to an assassination attempt might be a little bit more dramatic. I looked round the room at the exits. I caught Frederick’s eye as he did the same.
The MP next to Peng had disappeared off on his mobile so I had a clear visual of Peng. She was looking flushed. Alcohol or something else? And then I saw it. Her eyes widened slightly and she grasped at her throat. Wycombe next to her had not yet noticed. The bodyguard up against the wall directly behind her remained oblivious.
I had to be the first there.
I got up and raced towards Peng, plunging the item in my hand into her thigh.
Her bodyguard was on me within seconds and pulled me roughly away from Peng. When I showed him what was in my hand he let me go and we both turned to stare at Peng.
She was blinking fast. Her breathing settled. Ling Ling was already at her side, talking without drawing breath. She turned Peng’s head from left to right and peered into her eyes. She looked at me, gave me a small nod and continued to speak fast to Peng.
‘What’s going on? Is Minister Peng all right?’ Frederick appeared next to me.
‘She had an allergic reaction. There must’ve been nuts in her food.’ I added, ‘We need an ambulance.’ For a listening Geraint’s benefit.
Ling Ling approached me. ‘Minister Peng is very grateful you English are so good with your health and safety.’
‘It’s what we’re here for. Always prepared.’
Wycombe was fussing next to Peng, horrified that the caterers had apparently poisoned the guest of honour. There was a lot of gesticulating in between holding Peng’s hand.
The MP arrived back at the table and looked a little confused that so many people were now crowding round his seat. He hovered next to us, clearly contemplating whether he could reach over and get his wine glass.
Ling Ling continued, ‘We want to get her back to a London hospital.’
‘Of course. An ambulance is already on its way.’
Geraint crackled in. ‘The ambulance we had on standby will be there in three minutes. Hattie says to meet him outside now.’
I motioned to Frederick to watch Peng and walked out.
*
Hattie was waiting for me at the castle entrance, his mouth set in a thin line.
‘How did you know it was going to happen? Geraint told me you asked him for an EpiPen from the van’s medical kit.’
‘I had a hunch and it just paid off.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘If I was the Coyote I would’ve used her nut allergy.’
Hattie frowned. ‘But her nut allergy isn’t severe enough to kill her. You saw the medical records.’
‘Yes but it’s bad enough it has to be treated with an EpiPen—’
‘And an EpiPen is easily tampered with,’ Hattie finished.
‘Peng’s bodyguard and Ling Ling both carry an EpiPen in case she has an attack. We need to get hold of them and get them tested.’
‘I talked to the caterers out by the service entrance and they were fully aware of Peng’s nut allergy. They said they even took care with cross-contamination by preparing her food in a separate area.’
‘So someone would’ve had to spike it. Don’t suppose there are any cameras inside the kitchen?’
Hattie shook his head. ‘There are no internal cameras in the whole castle. It could’ve been anyone.’ We both turned to the sound of the ambulance arriving down the drive.
*
I retrieved my bag from my room and was heading back outside just as Peng was carried out by stretcher. She grabbed my arm as she passed.
‘Thank you,’ she mouthed. I patted her hand.
Wycombe came rushing to her side. He looked fraught. ‘I am so sorry, Minister Peng. This is just terrible.’ He continued to offer plaintive apologies all the way to the ambulance. Ling Ling and Peng’s bodyguard got into the back with her.
Hattie came up to me. ‘I’m going to ride back with them and stay with Peng at the hospital. If the Coyote just tried to strike he could have a back-up plan in place.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘You did good work tonight. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be busy.’
I watched as he ducked down to curl into the passenger seat of the ambulance.
‘Everyone heading back to London?’ Frederick joined me on the castle steps as we watched the ambulance leave, the blue and red flashing lights lighting up the ancient stone.
‘Yes. If the Coyote strikes again we’ll be ready.’
‘I see now why they call you Rats the best of the best. Nothing gets past you. I’m impressed.’
Wycombe joined us. ‘You two are welcome to stay on. Might as well keep on drinking, despite the bloody incompetent staff ruining any hope of getting this contract signed.’ He mopped his brow with a spotted handkerchief. ‘Your rooms are all made up.’
‘I’d better get back.’ I motioned towards our waiting van; Pixie and Geraint were already in the back. ‘Thank you, though, Charles.’
‘I’ll stay for a nightcap and then I’ll head back too,’ said Frederick.
‘Rightio then. Goodbye, Alexis.’ Charles gave me a couple of quick air kisses and walked back inside. ‘I’ll get the whisky out, old boy.’
‘Goodbye, Lex.’ Frederick leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and rested his forehead against mine for the briefest of moments. He then pulled back sharply and looked at me over his shoulder as he walked up into the castle.
Not having to stay the night here was a relief.
No good would’ve come of it.
*
Clambering into the driver’s seat of the white van I felt like Cinderella. I’d had my night at the ball. Now I was rushing home in my pumpkin.
I got back by midnight. I opened our bedroom door quietly, hoping to creep in, but Will was still awake, sitting up reading with the bedside light on.
‘So you’re back.’
‘I’m back.’
He closed his book and put it on his bedside table. ‘Did you have another accident yesterday?’
I thought fast. Had I left bloodied bandages somewhere? I’d changed quickly this morning – he can’t have noticed?
‘What are you talking about?’
‘On the walk to school this morning Gigi was telling me all about you bleeding, how there was so much blood and how brave you were.’
‘Oh, that. No. She, well . . . She came to the loo with me.’
He looked at me blankly.
‘I had my period.’
‘Oh.’ He grimaced. ‘Right.’
‘Yeah, it’s hard explaining to a two-year-old that bleeding out there doesn’t hurt.’
‘Got you. Say no more.’ He yawned again. ‘Before I forget, Mum’s car has broken down. She’s stuck at her friend Julie’s house and won’t be able to get back to London in time to pick up Gigi from that harvest festival at the church tomorrow. Can you do it? She’ll be back here around midday.’
Will was flying to America in the morning and would be away for two days schmoozing some big new clients.
Yvonne’s Young Ones had requested that tomorrow all children join the harvest festival celebrations at the church adjoining the nursery. When I’d said yes to this request at the start of term I’d imagined that Gigi’s big role as a piece of corn would give Will and me a blessed relaxed morning reading the Sunday papers. I hadn’t figured we’d both be working. I now needed to work out the logistics of dropping her off and picking her up. I wasn’t sure how I was going to broach this with Hattie.
‘Yep. Sure.’ I stared at the ceiling. I’d just lost a colleague, I’d just potentially foiled an assassination attempt on a Chinese minister, another strike was likely to happen any minute and I now had a childcare issue.
He reached to turn his light off but stopped.
‘You OK?’
‘Bad day at work. I’m just really tired.’ I rolled over. I closed my eyes but I knew sleep would take a long time to come, if it all.
Peng was still alive.
But Robin was gone.
It felt wrong. To be lying next to Will feeling so utterly bereft and not be able to talk to him about it. There was no spin I could put on this that would make sense. It wasn’t right that I could sit in a duck hide with Frederick and talk about everything I was feeling, yet I couldn’t with my own husband in our bedroom. I saw what Frederick had meant: by having a job we couldn’t talk about we were keeping a part of ourselves back. Will was oblivious to how I was feeling. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine. I couldn’t blame him for not understanding, for not being there for me, when I couldn’t tell him why I was upset. I couldn’t expect to keep everything inside and for him to magically know. How could he ever really be there for me when he could never know what I was really going through?
From: boobsboobs@welovedoubleDs.com
To: lex.tyler@platform-eight.co.uk
Subject: LIVE WEBCAM (.)(.)
MISSION: #80521
UNIT: WHISTLE
DATE: Sunday 6th October
ALERT: PENG’S DEPARTURE DAY