‘I was not an assassin,’ she whispered back fiercely, ‘I was in executive ops, and sometimes people get killed. On both sides.’
‘Yes I know; I’m sorry.’ He looked around. ‘Our starters should be here by now.’
‘What do you know about me, then Dan? Have you been given a thorough briefing on Geraldine Tate, who you thought was Emily Stevens?’ she challenged. He seemed very uncomfortable and Gerry cursed herself for sounding aggressive. The waiter suddenly appeared and placed a bowl of soup in front of Gerry and a Caesar salad before Dan. She quickly picked up a spoon and tasted it. It was too salty. ‘This is good,’ she declared enthusiastically, ‘how’s yours?’
‘Well I’ve hardly started, but it seems ok. Look Gerry; I probably know more about your career than you imagine. I looked you up in the computer today, but it reported that you’d been discharged. It didn’t say you were in prison.’ He paused. ‘And it never mentioned your daughter.’
She nodded. ‘Well the last few years have certainly been a fairly blank period for me.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No, not now Dan. I could give you a two minute token piece of bullshit, or else I might go on for hour after hour, unloading it on to you.’ He gazed at her with a strange, unfathomable expression that she found disconcerting.
‘So why did you invite me out tonight, Dan?’ she asked.
He put down his fork and gazed intently at her. ‘I just want you to know that if things suddenly turnout a bit er… unexpected, then I want you to know that you can count on me.’
‘Unexpected in what way?’ she asked, intrigued.
‘I just think someone is playing a sort of double game, someone has a hidden agenda, but I don’t know exactly who at the moment.’
Gerry put down her spoon and smiled at him. ‘Your right Dan, lots of people have agendas, and one of them is me.’
‘Why are you telling me that? Aren’t you concerned that I’ll report back?’
‘If your lot don’t think I’m going to try and squeeze every personal advantage I can from this situation, from being in prison to suddenly finding myself involved in what looks to be some kind of cover up, I’d be amazed.’
‘Gerry, this is important. I’m sure something’s going down, and I want you to know that I’ll be there for you.’
She put on her most serious face. ‘Ok Dan thank you for that assurance, I’m grateful. I’ll be on my guard.’ She could trust absolutely nobody but herself, and that included Dan Hall, no matter what he said. ‘Just because I’m not paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not all out to get me,’ she said to herself. She decided to change the subject. ‘How’s your squash?’
‘My squash?’ He looked at his salad and then realised what she meant. ‘Oh you mean the game! How did you know?… oh yes, I’d just finished a match with Richard Davies, your Embassy guy when we first met. We’ve kept in touch. He’s in Singapore at the moment. I last saw him out in Kabul. Last time he e-mailed me he said he was thinking about early retirement because he had met some Australian woman and thought that after all his years abroad he’d prefer to live somewhere hot and sunny rather than cold and damp.’
‘Yes, he was a good guy. What was it like in Kabul? Sorry, silly question as you nearly lost your hand. What with the scar on your cheek, you’ve got your share of wounds.’
He fingered the side of his face. ‘This wasn’t incurred in the line of duty.’ He grinned. ‘Let me tell you a cautionary tale about teasing the neighbour’s dog,’ he began.
Against her expectations Gerry enjoyed her evening with Dan Hall. He told her about his family and assured her that his financial affairs were in order. She wondered why, but then recalled that she had described his financial problems to him in detail in that awkward encounter years earlier. She had noticed him sneaking the occasional glance at her breasts while putting down his glass, but she had looked approvingly at his own physique so that was fair enough. She felt relatively cheerful as he drove her back to the hotel.
She was a little disappointed when he did not try to give her as much as a peck on the cheek, but before he went she had to ask him an important question, so she took hold of his hand. ‘Dan, why are you looking out for me? Why are you so eager to… well why did you say that I should definitely trust you?’
He turned to one side and then the other, and then peered over her shoulder and then looked down to her hand holding his. ‘Because I love you Gerry,’ he mumbled. She dropped his hand as if it had burnt her and took a step back.
‘What?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘That’s ridiculous! You hardly know me… I hardly know you!’
‘Yeah… well there it is… ever since we first met I’ve been thinking about you, but I sort of pushed it aside. Then I suddenly see you again and wham. Yeah I’m crazy I guess. Sorry to freak you out.’ He turned away and walked quickly out of the lobby. Gerry turned on her heel, lifted her eyes heavenwards and shook her head again as she walked to the elevator.
Back in her room she sat down at the desk and gazed into the mirror. Should she have gone to meet him without bothering to have a shower or change her clothes or put on make-up? Would that have made a difference? She suddenly remembered clutching one of his hands as she lay bleeding on the bed whilst with his other he held the towel over the wound in her abdomen. She remembered him calling ‘Stay with me Gerry, stay with me!’ as they waited for the ambulance. For years and years nobody had told her that she was loved. Oh what crap, he barely knew her!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gerry spent a restless night tossing and turning. Whenever she woke up, her mind began to consider the implications of her meeting with Ali Hamsin and the startling admission by Dan Hall which kept distracting her from her analysis of the situation. In the small hours of the morning she replayed their adventure in Fujairah and their more recent meetings and much to her surprise she acknowledged a developing interest in seeing him again. This admission seemed to calm her and she fell asleep until 5.50am when she heard a strange muffled thud through the door, then another. She realised it was the sound of newspapers being dropped in the hotel corridor outside each occupied room. She pulled back one of the drapes and gazed out over the sea. It was about half an hour before sunrise but she could just see the waves rolling towards the shore, and the wet sand reflecting the light from the shore front street lamps. She let the drape fall back and lay down on the bed. She drifted between asleep and awake for another hour before getting up and making some strong coffee which she hoped would enable her to think more clearly about the events of yesterday. Her meeting with Hamsin had been abruptly terminated, just as he was about to reveal something, but when he flew back to London with her then surely he’d have ample time to speak to her. Perhaps they wouldn’t release him now after all, or perhaps she wouldn’t be allowed to meet him again. She opened a drawer and pulled out her running kit. Dawn lightened the sky to the east, but it was still dark along the shore front road. She set off at a steady pace and settled into her rhythm, but having turned matters over during an hour’s run she was no nearer an explanation.
Gerry was in the bath when her telephone rang. She reached out for the handset, thinking once again that having a telephone in her bathroom at home might be a useful addition. ‘Yes?’
‘Good morning Gerry! Richard Cornwall here. How are you?’
‘I’m ok thanks. How are things back in the office?’
‘We’re managing thank you. I’m calling to say that I received your e-mail with your arrival time. 2100 hours local time here. Does it have to be so late?’