‘I’d been really looking forward to this evening,’ said Kate. ‘Now we’re stuck with single beds and bugs!’ she grinned. ‘Would you like a good night’s sleep or company?’
‘Both please.’
‘I wonder how we might manage that?’ Kate said with a grin. She headed for the bathroom. ‘There’s no bath but we do have a big shower,’ she called to Rafi.
As if he had read her thoughts, moments later he was standing at the bathroom door in his next to nothings.
‘You don’t hang around,’ said Kate.
To Rafi’s delight the shower had a range of settings. He was under a warm torrent when Kate joined him and changed the setting to a fine drizzle.
‘Now where would you like me to start?’ Kate picked up the bar of soap and smelt its inviting scent. ‘How about your back?’
Rafi turned round and faced the shower wall.
‘I hope this doesn’t hurt,’ said Kate as she looked at the bruises on his back.
He felt her fingers softly glide on the silky lather, gently massaging his muscles. They slowly worked their way from his shoulders down to the bottom of his back, skirting around his bruises. She was in a playful mood.
Kate recalled her first sight of him in the interrogation room. He had looked ordinary and cheerless. Then seeing him after his shower in the changing room at Wood Street police station, partially undressed, it had been a revelation. She smiled, he was gorgeous. His body was willowy but manly… The soap slipped out of her fingers. As she bent over to pick it up he tickled her.
Kate let out a loud shreik.
Moments later, there was a loud bang as the bathroom door flew open. There on the other side of the steamed up glass was the outline of a man holding a gun. Rafi’s heart missed a beat as the faces of Radu Dranoff and Aslan Popovskaya flashed into his mind. He stood petrified, his pulse racing. Time stood still.
‘Sorry mate, I thought you had unwanted company!’ came an embarrassed voice. The door closed and Brett, the SAS man was gone.
Rafi stood motionless under the hot drizzling water. ‘Are you alright?’ asked Kate.
‘I guess so,’ replied Rafi shakily. He still had the outline of the gun framed in his mind. ‘That gave me quite a shock.’
Kate changed the shower’s controls and, under a torrent of water, quickly hosed off the sea of bubbles.
‘Brought reality back with a bang… Ehh?’ and gave Rafi a hug. ‘Let’s get you dry and tucked up in bed’.
The low morning sun streamed in to the bedroom through the small gaps around the curtains. A ray of light danced on Rafi’s face. The daylight had woken Kate half an hour earlier. She had come round to find Rafi asleep in her arms, with his serene face close to hers, and had carefully examined every inch of it many times over. Kate smiled as she thought about the man lying next to her.
The fluttering of Rafi’s dark eyelashes brought her out of her daydreams.
‘Good morning darling. I hope you slept well,’ she said softly.
‘Like a log.’
Kate lent forward and gave him a kiss. ‘How about breakfast in bed?’
‘Nice idea. What about a full English breakfast with orange juice and coffee, in say half an hour? And we don’t even need to use the phone to order.’
‘Pardon…? Oh, I forgot that our SAS friends are listening in.’
Half an hour later there was a knock at the door, and Brett entered carrying a tray laden with their breakfast. ‘I hope you don’t mind me using the spare key?’ He put the tray down and smiled at Rafi and Kate snuggled up in a single bed. ‘And I hope I didn’t barge in on you.’ He grinned, turned and left.
Their breakfast was interrupted by a phone call from Jeremy. ‘There’s no sign of Dranoff or Popovskaya. Have you seen the morning papers?’
‘Not yet,’ replied Kate.
‘Well, there’s a picture in one of the tabloids of the two of you having dinner. If that’s not a red rag to a bull, I don’t know what is. The terrorists now know exactly where you are. Brett has asked for you to stay in your room. Sorry if it cramps your style, but…’
‘That’s alright,’ butted in Kate. ‘Rafi and I’ll be fine.’
The rest of the morning passed slowly. Rafi read the papers and was in particular fascinated by an article in The Independent which gave details of the exclusion zone around Stratford and provided a summary of the building works that were in progress, and of those planned. It showed maps and explained how the transport and key utilities were being rerouted around the newly named ‘Isle of Stratford’.
Kate meanwhile lazed around, read a magazine and wrote postcards to her parents and her brother.
They opted for an early lunch in their room.
‘Now what?’ enquired Kate. ‘I’m fed up with writing cards and reading.’
She picked up the hotel brochure. ‘Hey Rafi, do you like swimming? There’s a heated indoor pool. I wonder if Brett would let us go for a swim later?’
‘If you can find me a pair of trunks, I’ll be there,’ replied Rafi.
Kate got up, rummaged around in her suitcase and pulled out two swimming costumes. ‘I packed these just in case – I love water.’ She held up a black Speedo one-piece and then a couple of scraps of blue material. ‘A friend got me the bikini in Brazil a couple of years ago, but I haven’t had the courage to wear it!’
‘I can see why,’ said Rafi with a big smile.
‘Would you like to see it on?’ enquired Kate.
‘Yes please.’
Kate disappeared into the bathroom. Several minutes later she reappeared. ‘So what do you think?’
Rafi looked at her. The Speedo swimsuit fitted her like a glove – flattening out her contours, giving her figure the look of a teenager.
‘This is what I usually wear. It’s not very flattering is it? Now what do you think of this…?’ She peeled off the one-piece, revealing the skimpy bikini.
Rafi’s eyes were drawn to the small blue triangles which accentuated her subtle sexy curves. ‘You look amazing…’
Kate moved towards Rafi, her fingers playing with the thin blue strings that held the flimsy bikini together. ‘Now if I pull this and this…’ she said, stepping forward in her nothingness, ‘You get just me!’
At 4.30 p.m. Brett knocked on the door and entered carrying a tray of Cornish cream tea. ‘Hope I didn’t wake you, but I thought you might like some sustenance.’ He put the tray down on the side table. ‘I have some news. Jeremy phoned. He hopes you are not getting bored stiff, and says that Jameel and co. are safely in custody on English soil and are seriously disgruntled. All they want to know about is what the long gilts index and interest rates are doing. We haven’t broken the bad news to them, as yet. Oh, by the way, Maryam is under lock and key at a safe house. Neil Gunton is looking forward to playing her off against the others.’
‘Thanks Brett,’ said Kate, ‘And thank you for watching over us.’
‘My pleasure. Let me know if you need anything else. If not, I’ll be back at supper time,’ he smiled as he left.
Kate picked up the bedside phone and rang reception. ‘What time does the post go…? OK, thanks.’ She leant forwards and kissed Rafi warmly on the lips. ‘I have to nip downstairs to buy stamps – the post goes in five minutes. Sending cards to the family is something we always used to do… I thought my parents would like a card showing the hotel and its beach.’ Kate dressed quickly and went downstairs.
Wrapped in a bathrobe Rafi sat by the window. It was dark outside. The floodlights accentuated the driving rain. He sat there thinking of very little. Next to him on the table, was a Sig Sauer P226 revolver, which had been given to him by Brett. ‘Its small size,’ Brett had explained, ‘Means you can carry it on you without showing a telltale bulge. All you need to know is that it has seven. 38 calibre rounds, which will stop a man if you hit him anywhere in the torso. Remember, it has a safety catch on the thumb side for right-handers. This little beauty has only a modest kick; aim a little low unless you’ve had time to cradle the gun properly.’ Brett had shown him how to hold the gun. ‘Be instinctive and please bear in mind that if you are aiming at a person thirty feet away, your accuracy as an amateur will be in the order of six feet. So please be extra careful of bystanders!’