‘Last couple of questions,’ said Kate. ‘Are the identities of the other people known at this point in time and, if so, when do we meet them? And what’s their English like?’
‘Yes, I believe they are, and English will not be a problem. If you have no more questions then I can tell you that your interviews have been arranged for next week. They’ll be at the EU’s offices in Storey’s Gate, St James’s.’
Rafi raised an eyebrow indicating that the address meant nothing.
‘Bottom of Horse Guards Parade.’
‘Got it – thank you.’
‘Assuming you decide to take up the offer of the jobs, we have arranged for you to meet the team for dinner next Friday evening in Luxembourg, as guests of our Embassy there. That way you can see how you get on. On the languages front, I have to stress again that your would – be colleagues have an excellent command of English as well as each being fluent in a handful of other languages. Your support team will provide you with the necessary translators, should they be required,’ added Ewan, helpfully.
Kate looked at Rafi. He winked back. She slowly turned and looked at the commissioner, at Ewan and then across to the permanent secretary.
‘Who buys the plane tickets and books the hotel room?’
‘Funny you should mention that.’ The commissioner turned over several pages of the notebook he was using, pulled out a sheet of paper and passed it to Kate.
‘In case you said yes, here are the details of your e-tickets and the hotel you’ll be staying at. We‘ve booked you on a flight from London City Airport; it takes off at 12.05 and lands at around 14.00 hours.’
Kate stood up, shook hands, said her thanks and goodbyes, and made for the door. Rafi stood up to leave after her.
‘Mr Khan, would you stay with us a moment longer?’
Rafi sat back down. Ewan looked at him intently. ‘Can you recall how you felt when you were at the Headland hotel and you knew that there was a person out there in the darkness who wanted to kill you and Kate?’
‘Yes.’ The memory sent a shudder through him.
‘Please be under no illusion. We don’t know what you and Kate may be getting into. There are powerful forces at work below the surface in Europe. These shadowy people have big vested interests and antiquated concepts of what are acceptable and unacceptable practices. Furthermore, the enlargement of the Union has brought into our midst both hard-working people keen to improve their quality of life and, unfortunately, a quagmire of organised crime. These criminals, like terrorists, operate freely throughout the EU. To put it bluntly, you’ll be entering a very murky world – the world of sophisticated, ruthless criminals. We at MI5 and those at MI6 will do our utmost to protect you as and when things get difficult; the Prime Minister has made it clear that you will have our full support. But it’s your decision as to whether you’re willing to leave the comfort of the City and cross over to our world and its dangers.’
Rafi thought for a few moments. The Bishopsgate bombing had claimed four lives, Stratford would claim innumerably more. If there had been better financial transparency the terrorists would not have been able to operate so freely. Perhaps they would have gone elsewhere or have been caught in good time. It was a no-brainer and if it was what Kate wanted, then he wanted to be with her.
‘Thank you for your warnings. I’d like to attend the interview next week and, interview permitting, I look forward to becoming part of the team.’
‘That is good news,’ said the dark-suited civil servant. ‘The PM will be very pleased.’
Rafi got up and went to find Kate. His life was changing fast. Only a few months ago he had been a well-respected and very highly paid equities fund manager. He was now about to take a huge salary cut, work in Luxembourg and join MI5.
Kate was talking with Emma. ‘I’m being posted to Luxembourg,’ he heard her say.
‘Congratulations! I’ll really miss you though. You’ve got to promise to stay in touch,’ replied Emma.
Rafi turned to Kate. ‘What do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?’
‘Well, I need to tidy my desk. Then I can start planning the next chapter of my life with my new partner,’ she quipped with a mischievous look on her face.
She spotted a pile of messages on her desk. ‘Would you believe it? I’ve had a call from Jeremy and he’s in Luxembourg! He says he will be there to meet us at the airport on Friday and show us some sights, before he takes us to our hotel, which is near the Embassy.’
Rafi looked at Kate. ‘What, on earth, is Jeremy doing in Luxembourg?’
‘Heaven only knows. But I hope he’s been posted there; it would be great to have him as part of the team.’ Kate hesitated. ‘What time is it? I’ve just remembered a couple of things I need to finish off.’
Rafi looked at his watch. ‘It’s just after 4.15 p.m.’
‘Could we meet back here at 6 o’clock? And could you find something to keep you occupied for about two hours?’
‘No problem.’ Rafi flicked open his mobile and rang Aidan. He felt slightly guilty that he hadn’t made more of an effort to keep in touch since that day they’d given the presentation at Number 10.
Aidan answered the phone straight away. He definitely was not at the office; from the background noise Rafi guessed he was enjoying a glass or two of champagne at a local hostelry.
‘Hi Aidan, Rafi here.’
‘Great to hear from you. I thought you’d been avoiding me… Where are you?’
‘Wood Street.’
‘It’s POETS day. Do come and join us; we’re in the Pavilion at Finsbury Circus Gardens. It’s been a rather good week; we’re a bit over the top, but do join us.’
‘See you in ten minutes.’
The Pavilion was a short walk away; it was a likeable wine bar in the middle of Finsbury Circus, overlooking a bowling green. Rafi grabbed his coat, hurried downstairs and headed down Chiswell Street towards the wine bar. On arrival he was greeted by a joyous Aidan. He had taken a few clients out for lunch and they were still going strong. As an equities man, Rafi’s path tended not to cross with the derivatives specialists. They were high-octane people with a ‘work hard, play hard’ ethos.
‘Let me introduce you to… Rafi,’ Aidan said enthusiastically, and then suddenly stopped. ‘On second thoughts, there’s no need – I reckon everybody here will already know you from your pictures in the papers!’ To general amusement, those that Rafi hadn’t met before introduced themselves. Aidan ordered him a freshly squeezed orange juice and Rafi sat down and listened to their stories. Aidan was on cracking form. He’d picked up a whole host of new clients after all the publicity he’d received for his work for the Treasury.
‘Rafi,’ he said, ‘have you heard the one about the managing director of a major international bank who one Monday morning turned up to the office to attend a video-conference meeting with a major client, only to find that all the equipment had been taken away for servicing?’
There were howls of laughter around the table.
‘And he thought that I had something to do with it! He saw that the market was closed and decided it was an omen to go off and have an extended lunch.’ This was greeted by more laughs.
‘You know, every time I meet the MD, he asks me how I’m getting on in the second-hand electricals market – some cheek!’ said Aidan.
The conversation went from pillar to post and time flew by all too quickly. Rafi said his goodbyes and left the ever-merrier group to their next bottle of champagne. He arrived back at Wood Street in a taxi, picking up a tired Kate before heading straight for Clapham. It had been quite a day.
The Tuesday interview at Storey’s Gate was just a formality. Rafi sat at one end of a long table with two grey-suited individuals sitting at the other end.
The first twenty minutes were spent completing a detailed CV about Rafi: schooling, degrees, employment, work skills and competencies, leisure activities, and so on.