Ahmed reached out to switch off the alarm clock, set for six o’clock, much less sleepily than usual, and Nattie moved closer. ‘Don’t go, not yet.’ He must have been lying awake too, she sensed.
‘I wasn’t going to. I was going to wake you up in the best possible way I know. Remember, years ago, when we were into poetry? Once did I breathe another’s breath, and in my mistress move . . .’ He took her into his arms.
‘Once was I not mine own at all,’ Nattie finished for him, drawing him in, ‘and then I was in love.’ She clung to the feeling of his need of her; it had to last.
‘I want you to feel me, love me, no hair of distance,’ he was mumbling as they kissed. For now, she thought, naked and joined – but what about later? There would be thousands of miles between them in hours.
They lay for a while, a bundle of limbs. Nattie thought of what it was to love, the gift of it, to live in another’s emotions, take on that person’s pain, sweet ecstasy, their trauma . . . She would feel Ahmed’s highs, his moods, distance no bar, and he would know hers. He’d send unspoken support by pigeon carrier, Hurricane Matilda or whatever, thoughts racing across oceans, cadging lifts on westerly winds.
She laid a hand on his stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his quickened breath, then, lifting her face to look at him, she said with forced lightness, ‘If I’d known you were as awake as I was we could have been here earlier.’
‘Now you tell me!’
He left her to get dressed half an hour later than usual, picking up his phone and eyeing it as he went. ‘Someone texted after midnight,’ he said, ‘not California – and hardly anyone has this number. I’ll check it out upstairs.’
Nattie showered and dressed in the clothes he’d bought her in Lyme Regis that had a tale to tell, the tan leather skirt and soft stripy sweater. Not what she would normally wear for the school run on a Monday morning, but it wasn’t a normal Monday – nor a normal any other day. But for the baby she’d have felt that all the life in her was draining away as the minutes ticked by.
Lily was still fast asleep. She slept more heavily of late, less often watching for the sun to come up on her clock, her signal to invade her mother’s room. Nattie had put out her school clothes and Tubsy’s things, and laid the breakfast table the night before; she wanted no faffing about, hunting for clean socks, when it was their last hour or so of being all together in the house.
She went in to Lily. ‘Wake-up time, lovely! School today – and Dan’s going to America, remember? You must give him a big hug.’ She’d told the children the night before, coming back from her mother’s.
Lily yawned and rubbed her eyes. ‘When’s he back, Mummy? He must be here in time for Christmas as I’m making him a calendar at school. I’ve got lots to bring home on my last day.’ Nattie had almost forgotten how close to the end of term it was.
‘Better get up now, darling, while I see to Tubs; your clothes are all there, all ready, and I’ll be with you in a minute.’
As she went out of the room Ahmed was coming downstairs. He put his cheek to hers. ‘That text I had was from William. I need to talk to you about it – quite urgently.’
‘Why? What’s up?’ She stared. William must know something and it had to be bad.
‘You can’t come to the airport, Nattie darling, it’s not safe.’
‘Are you mad? I’m coming and there’s nothing that you, William, or anyone else could do or say that would stop me. If it’s not safe to drive we can get a cab – I’ll get my own if necessary.’ Then she calmed down. ‘It’s Shelby, isn’t it. What’s he done?’
‘Better not now. You’ve got to get Lily to school. I’ll call you in the car on your way home.’
Nattie’s phone was buzzing. She saw the message on the screen and looked up. ‘Text from Mum, saying it’s urgent.’
‘She’ll want to tell you the same thing,’ Ahmed muttered, ‘that it’s not safe for you to come to the airport.’
Nattie glared at him. She texted her mother. Can’t talk now, Mum, usual breakfast rush. Call after school run.
Breakfast was typical chatter and clatter. Tubsy upturned his bowl of squidged-up Weetabix, which dripped down the side of his high chair; the normality of everything that morning had an eerily surreal feel.
‘I wish you weren’t going to America, Dan,’ Lily said. ‘Do you reely have to?’
‘ ’Fraid so. Not sure when I’ll be back either, but you’re reading so well now, I’ll write you letters with American stamps on them that you’ll be able to read yourself. Will you write me one back?’
‘I’ll write lots!’ She got down from the table, dancing up to him while he put another pod in the coffee machine, jumping about in high spirits. ‘Will Mummy know where to send them?’
‘Sure thing – but she’s giving us looks, Lily love, she thinks I’m making you late. Off you go, I’ll feed Moppet for you, but I would like one last hug.’
Lily ran into his arms and he hugged her tight, smoothing her hair and pushing her head to his chest. She pulled back and looked at him.
‘You’re crying. Don’t cry! You will be back in time for Christmas? I’ve got to give you my present.’
‘It wasn’t proper crying, just I so hate saying goodbye. Very exciting, this talk of a present. And who knows? I might just have something for you.’
He stayed in the kitchen with Tubsy while Nattie hustled Lily out of the door.
Lily was talkative on the way to school. ‘I wish Dan wasn’t going, Mummy. Will we have to move out of his house? Will we be with Daddy while he’s away?’
‘I’m not sure. We’ll probably stay here – in Dan’s house – for a while. He may get back before too long, but he’ll have to be in America quite a lot of the time now.’ She gave a quick backwards glance to Lily, strapped into her seat. ‘You’ve got tea with Jade today, darling, remember. Her mummy is picking you up from school. I’ll come there for you later.’
‘I’m going to finish the calendar in school today, so he’s got to come back for Christmas. He’s my other daddy, isn’t he? I told my teacher that.’
They were at the school. Nattie parked and they got out – Lily could undo her own seatbelt now, and she started off at a run. ‘Lunch box!’ Nattie called, smiling and handing it over as Lily rushed back. ‘And a kiss before you go.’ She watched Lily in through the gates, golden hair flying, saw her link up with her friend, Noah, and go into school, chattering non-stop. Then she drove away, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
The Ford had Bluetooth and when Ahmed phoned from home as promised, his voice filled the car; it was the essence of him, male, light, strong, full of warmth. It was hard to bear; her heart was bleeding. But she listened as carefully as he pleaded that she should, and soon knew the worst.
‘What Shelby’s done is like hiring a contract killer,’ she exclaimed. He’d take his revenge that far? How low could anyone get? And how thankful she felt about William’s security guards. They owed him a lot. She had to grip the wheel hard, shaking with fear for Ahmed’s safety, and violent outrage.
‘You do see now how serious it is, Nattie? You can’t come to the airport. Shelby’s probably Tweeting his mischief as we speak. I can’t let you anywhere near me on the way or at the airport. You mustn’t come.’
She felt such furious determination that it dried her tears. ‘My turn now,’ she said forcefully. ‘You listen to me! We go to the airport together in a licensed black cab. We have our wits about us there and have the protection of the crowds. I’m with you till you’re through that departure gate, whether you like it or not. Shelby doesn’t mess with us like this, no way. If there could be any crumb of comfort in all this, it’s that he’ll have missed the bloody boat with you flying out ahead of time. I’ll still have to bring Tubsy with us to the airport, though. Mum’s probably tied up and anyway, she’d only try to stop me going. Pity Jasmine looks after that other baby on Mondays.’
‘I anticipated you’d make this sort of fuss,’ Ahmed said, sounding almost amused. ‘I called Tom to say goodbye, told him a bit of what’s happened, and he offered to help out with Tubsy. “Quality time with my nephew,” he said – though he’s worried he might put the Pampers on wrong side up.’
‘I’m sure even Tom can work out the right side,’ Nattie said, relieved.
‘He’ll be okay. I’ve taken out one of your little frozen pots for Tubsy’s lunch, which should help. William called and confirmed that the house is still being guarded. I spoke to your mother while he was on, and tried to reassure her, but you must phone her as soon as you’re back, darling, she’s really distressed.’
‘I’m home, now,’ Nattie said, frustrated with her mother while feeling more scared than she was letting on. ‘Just drawing up.’ She peered round, getting out of the car, heart fluttering, but saw no one loitering in the street, nothing untoward.
Tom arrived minutes after her. He came into the hall holding out his arms and she folded into them, glad of the hug. He drew back and looked at her with huge understanding in his eyes. ‘I’m not keen on Ahmed pushing off like this – it’s certainly come as a bit of a shock. I don’t know about you, Nattie, but I’m going to miss him a lot.’
‘Well, he has his good points . . .’ She smiled, but time was short: she had to call her mother and Ahmed had a plane to catch. Tom would be there when she was back from the airport; they could talk then. Talk? How would she cope and manage to speak, even to him? Perhaps it was as well he’d be there, she could cry in front of Tom.
She swiftly took him through Tubsy’s routine, including his midday nap. ‘You’ll be glad of a bit of peace by then and he’s always ready for it, goes down like a lamb.’
‘That’s a blessing! You’d better go, Nattie. A taxi was drawing up as I arrived, I expect it’s yours. And don’t you worry, Tubs and I will be fine.’
Tom hung back in the kitchen with his typical sensitivity. Nattie had flung off her coat, coming in, and Ahmed was holding it ready. He kissed the back of her neck as he helped her into it and she turned in to him, heart pressed to heart, but they had to go.
He went into the kitchen, ruffled Tubsy’s curly blond hair and kissed him. He had a last look round, storing snatches of memory, then went into the sitting room and looked out of the back window at the garden and Moppet’s hutch. Then he walked purposefully out of the room, picked up his bags and called goodbye to Tom.
Tom came into the hall. ‘Safe flight, you old sod, and mind you come back sooner than the last time,’ he said, his voice gruff with emotion, before he opened the front door for them and they hurried out to the waiting taxi.
It was a gloomy, overcast day, reassuringly dark in the cab; they needed anonymity. Ahmed tucked Nattie’s arm under his and held her hand. ‘Well, we made it into the cab in one piece,’ he smiled. ‘One down, but a few more hurdles at the airport. When we get there I want you to make for a different entrance, Nattie. We can link up again by phone. You must think risk and take constant precautions the whole time now. Promise me you will? It’s essential.’
‘Ease up on me a bit, can’t you? I’ve just had a basinful from Mum, as you predicted, and I had a job to stop her from coming round tonight, but I think she realised how badly I’d need to be alone. You haven’t told me how William discovered about Shelby. Had he been on to the press? Don’t spare me the details.’
‘It was from Hugo – he got in touch with William late last night. He’d just had Shelby round who’d bragged about his plans – obviously hadn’t bargained on Hugo’s decent reaction. But from the gossip columns, the people Shelby’s in with, he’s back showering snow around London like confetti, and I hate to say it, Nattie, but it looks like Hugo’s back using the stuff.’
‘So that’s how Shelby knew which school to follow me home from.’ Her heart sank to her boots; she felt sickened to think of Shelby manipulating poor Hugo for his own evil ends. And confirmation of Hugo using again was a disaster. She’d seen the signs, though, known the awful inevitability. Was it crack as well as coke? Hugo needed the lift and sense of euphoria coke gave, not for the kicks, simply to help him function at all. He must be hanging on to his job by a thread. But crack . . .
‘Twitter’s fast,’ she said, pulling her mind back, and realising, as she said it, what a huge understatement that was. There could be spotters at the airport already.
She shivered and pressed closer to Ahmed. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank God you were flying out this very day. It’s spiking Shelby’s guns at the least. He gets to you over my dead body.’
‘Don’t say that! But I’m not the problem, Nattie darling – it’s you. You must take the risk you’re under more seriously. There could be people out there who’ll try to get to me through you. Shelby knows where we’ve been living, that’s the real fear. I haven’t had time to see what Tweets are out there, whether he’s got going yet, but he will.’ Nattie was surprised, she’d been gone a good hour on the school run. ‘Nowhere’s really safe for you now – except California.’ Ahmed gave a wry smile and kissed her lips. ‘Jake’s house least of all. You can’t stay there a day longer. I’ll talk you through my plans for that, but we’re almost there. Tell you over coffee.’
‘But William’s storming into action, you say, putting a team onto monitoring and countering Tweets, even getting Twitter addresses removed; surely the whole thing will fizzle out like a failed firework?’ They were in the underpass tunnel at Heathrow, soon to go in through different doors, wheel his cases to be checked in, have a last few moments over coffee before the final goodbye. People everywhere, time running out, and there was so much more to say. She wanted to be having a lifetime’s conversation, talking about love and connection, not Shelby and Islamist terrorists.
‘You’re being a bit extreme,’ she said.
‘I’m not. I’m telling it like it is. William’s a different generation; he knows a lot, has power, all the power of the press at his elbow, but even he doesn’t know the full reach of social media. It’s an unstoppable, unkillable beast. The terrorists are at war with us. And however long ago it was I thwarted a plot almost on the scale of nine-eleven, they want my head.’
Ahmed was travelling Business Class and was spared a long queue. Nattie had lagged well behind and as he turned to leave the check-in desk he phoned her. ‘Keep me in sight and I’ll find somewhere we can sit and talk.’
He feared for them both, but he was the one whose life was in danger. The risk to her, she still believed, was minimal.
He made for a small café and got the last available table. There was noise, a bulky family at the next table whose piled-up kit was in everyone’s way, whose children kept running off, the father stumbling over the luggage, going after them. There were open packets of crisps, cheese-and-onion-flavoured; the smell was bringing bile into Nattie’s throat, but it was containable.
Ahmed talked in hushed undertones. ‘You can’t stay in Jake’s house, nor your mother’s basement. She and William live too close, it’s too great a risk. I did some fast phoning while you were taking Lily to school. I talked to Jake in Australia. It was evening, a good time, and I told him all. He’s coming over to sort out a new rental. He’s got keys, you can leave all yours in the hall. Jake says you needn’t rehang those curtains of Sylvia’s we took down so don’t fret about that! And good news, Sylvia’s pregnant, so he’s not worried about our fiddles in Lily’s room.’ He lifted Nattie’s hand to his lips, looking at her so movingly over it that she burst into tears.
‘Sorry,’ she said, recovering, ‘I know you’ve got more to say. There’s no one I can descend on, though, with two children and a guinea pig. I’ll have to go to Mum’s for a while.’
‘No, you won’t. First on cars. The Ford is yours, in your name, not easily traced to me. Shelby knows it, but I’d like to think he’s done his damnedest now. He’ll be watching his own back too. Hugo saw him off apparently, and Shelby’s on weak ground. But you can’t stay in Jake’s house a day longer, so I’ve rented you a furnished flat in Notting Hill. It’s paid up, all sorted, you won’t have water and electricity bills, they’ll come to me. It looks good online, a maisonette with enough garden for Moppet. Go and see it this afternoon with Tubsy. You must move tomorrow, darling, that’s most important of all.’ Ahmed had hold of her hand so tightly, she felt he was trying to press that home even harder.
‘Don’t go to work tomorrow, have a sickie,’ he said. ‘You’ll have Jasmine there to help and be with Tubs while you do the move – I’ve given her the gist of this on the phone – and I’ve left you a long note with all the details. The flat keys are with the estate agents who’ll show you round and explain everything. Call me if you need to; always call. I’m going to look after you, Nattie. I have money, it’s not a problem – so don’t start protesting – and it’s somewhere I can come to when the baby is born. I’m going to buy the flat as an investment; it’s for sale.’
‘What about Hugo?’ Nattie asked in a small voice, her head swimming. ‘What if he wants me back?’
‘I’ll understand. I will have bought the flat soon enough; I may do short-term lets if you’re with Hugo, make the flat earn its keep – and hope to use it myself, once or twice of course.’ He looked at his watch then back up into her face. ‘I’m going to marry you, Nattie darling, however long it takes – though l hope that won’t be as long as it took Captain Corelli. We’ll walk on beaches holding hands and puff ourselves up with pride about our genius child. Who knows, maybe we’ll have had another by then.’ He put his hand to her stomach and kissed her eyes.
‘It will be hard for you with Hugo. He could lose his job and he’ll be full of blame for ever having let Shelby cross the threshold. But I very much doubt now, with your decision,’ Ahmed said, ‘that he’ll be checking out other sources; he’ll try to stay clean. And if I’m really honest, and saying it makes me feel like I’m signing my own death warrant, you’d probably be safest back in Queen’s Park. A better man than I would have said that earlier.’
‘Don’t,’ she said, ‘just bloody don’t.’ She pulled free and buried her head in her hands.
Ahmed lifted them away, held on to them and fastened his eyes on hers. She felt her blood drain away like sand in a timer; the minutes were ticking by. ‘I feel a bit faint,’ she said. ‘It’s only partly the baby, more just an excuse, but don’t let go of me, not quite yet.’ She found some control and blinked away a tear, heart swelling to bursting.
‘How am I going to bear to watch Shorelands?’ she said. ‘And it’s spoilt for me anyway now. I know the plot, I’ll know what’s coming . . .’
‘I’ll put in a twist or two that you’ll work out are just for you. They’ll have special meaning.’
Nattie kept on holding his hands; she couldn’t prepare for the emptiness, couldn’t let go.
Ahmed held her eyes. ‘It’s getting late – I’d better go. I’ll walk ahead of you.’
There was no distance between them when they linked up at Departures. They didn’t care who saw them as they clung, wet-eyed, each storing the feel, the shape and warmth and heartbeat of the other. ‘You’ll keep me close out there?’ she whispered, before he separated. He wiped his eyes, and hers, picked up his bag and walked up to the barrier. She watched him through, not expecting him to turn, but he did, with a soft, sad smile, then was lost to the other side.