‘What are you doing now?’
‘Thinking about renting out the flat.’
‘Can’t you get another job?’
‘No. Dekker Ward have suddenly decided to sponsor the School of Russian Studies. My continued unemployment is the condition.’
‘Oh, no! Where are you going to live?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll find a squat somewhere. Camden’s a good area for that sort of thing, I believe.’ I could tell my voice must sound weary, low.
Kate was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘Well, stop moping. Pack a suitcase and come round here now. You can stay with us until you find the squat of your dreams. You need people around, even if it is only me and Oliver.’
Suddenly there was nothing I wanted more than to do what Kate suggested.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’
I took my bike, weighed down with saddlebags, on to the train, and arrived at the station at eight o’clock. It was on the edge of an old market town thirty miles from London, which had lost the battle to avoid becoming a dormitory community. Jamie and Kate’s house was three miles from the station, on the outskirts of the village of Bodenham.
It was still light as I rode along the narrow lanes. Chestnut trees were everywhere, bedecked with white candles. It wasn’t quiet, the birds were making a racket, and farm machinery was returning to base for the evening. I plunged down a steep hill into Bodenham and swerved left at the bottom by the duck pond, narrowly avoiding a mallard strutting importantly across the road. Even here cyclists didn’t get proper respect.
Their house was at the end of a straight half-mile stretch of lane. I didn’t hear the car until a loud horn sounded a couple of feet behind me and almost sent me out of my seat. I turned to see Jamie’s Jaguar XJS whispering along in my slipstream. He tried to overtake, but I slowed to walking pace and weaved across the road in front of him. Some people just don’t grow up.
They lived in Dockenbush Farm, an old farmhouse that was still surrounded by working buildings used by a neighbouring farmer. It had half an acre of garden, an appealing mess of unkempt roses and shrubs. On one side was a small orchard with a purple and green carpet of uncut grass and bluebells. A confused yellow rose scrambled across the front of the house, and I had to duck as I walked in at the front door to avoid a heavy branch of thorns and flowers.
‘I must tie that back,’ said Jamie. ‘Although at least it keeps out lanky gits like you.’
‘I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘In fact, I might give the whole place a good haircut.’
They had moved in two years before, just after Jamie had joined Dekker. The house had seemed to me absurdly large for the two of them plus small child, especially since I was used to seeing them in a cramped one-bedroomed flat in Chiswick. It reminded me a little of the house Jamie had grown up in, which I had seen on my first couple of visits to his family before his father had been forced to sell it. That was no coincidence, of course. I also suspected that it was no coincidence that Ricardo, too, had a nice house in the country.
Kate came through and stepped up on her bare toes to give me a kiss. ‘Hallo. Supper’s almost ready. It’s only stew, I’m afraid.’
The large old kitchen was warmed by an Aga, and pleasingly cluttered with toys and iron pots and pans. The stew was delicious. We downed a bottle of Chilean red between the three of us and talked and laughed. Then, over a spread of French cheeses, Jamie touched on the subject we had all been avoiding. ‘Ricardo talked about you this morning.’
‘Oh, yes?’
‘Yes. He gave us a little speech. He told us why you’d left. He said that he didn’t mind people disagreeing with the Dekker ethos, and that he had given you a chance to resign, which you hadn’t taken. He wouldn’t tolerate any member of the team betraying the rest of us. He said you’d never work again, not in the City, nor in a university.’
‘Jamie! Didn’t you say anything?’ Kate protested.
Jamie shrugged.
‘He couldn’t,’ I said. ‘Ricardo isn’t that sort of person.’ Then I asked Jamie, ‘What do the others think?’
Jamie sighed. ‘It’s impossible to tell. Everyone’s a bit down after Isabel. And this Mexican deal is becoming a real problem. They know I’m a good friend of yours, so they wouldn’t talk to me about it anyway. But I suspect they’ll keep quiet. The message from Ricardo is clear. Stick with me and I’ll look after you. Leave and you’re in trouble.’
Kate looked at Jamie with concern. Jamie avoided her glance, and studied the debris of cheese and crumbs on his plate.
‘I thought it was a bit extreme sponsoring the School of Russian Studies just to keep me out of a job,’ I said.
‘It was. And that’s why it was effective. It’s a warning to the rest of us of how far Ricardo will go to punish people whom he thinks have betrayed him. But also it’s a good idea. We’ll need information and contacts to get into Russia. Your old place can provide us with useful introductions.’
‘And beating me up? Wrecking my flat? Did Ricardo tell everyone about that too?’
‘I doubt he even knows. That has all the marks of Eduardo.’
‘Jamie, you’ve got to get out of there!’ said Kate. ‘Especially after what they did to Nick. You should leave before it’s too late.’
Jamie sighed. ‘It is too late. Especially now. Ricardo will be watching me for signs of disloyalty.’
‘Screw him!’ said Kate. ‘Just leave.’
‘It’s not that easy,’ said Jamie. ‘This house needs to be paid for. I’ll need two years’ good bonuses to make a dent in the mortgage. And if I leave, what will I do then? Ricardo isn’t a good man to have as an enemy. The Latin American market is smalclass="underline" everyone knows everyone else.’
‘You could work for Bloomfield Weiss,’ said Kate. ‘They’d have you like a shot.’
‘Yeah, and if they lose their war with Dekker, which it looks like they will, they won’t need me any more and I’ll be out on the street.’
‘Oh, Jamie!’ growled Kate in frustration. She threw down her napkin and left the table.
The two of us sat in awkward silence. Finally Jamie broke it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry about it. I’m free to screw up my own career. There’s no need for you to screw yours up in solidarity. You’ve got Kate to look after, and Oliver.’ And your ambition, I thought. That was the real problem, and both Jamie and I knew it. He was doing well at Dekker, and if he kept his head down he could be making millions in a few years’ time. That was something he desperately wanted to do.
But he was an old friend of mine. I didn’t want him to give up his ambitions on my account.
I helped Jamie wash up, and went to bed. I didn’t see any more of Kate that evening.
I spoke to her the next day. Jamie had gone to work, and she had taken Oliver to school. The weather was glorious, sunny with a gentle breeze. We sat in the back garden drinking mugs of coffee.
‘Did you know your godson has a girlfriend?’ Kate said.
‘Really? He’s a bit young, isn’t he?’
‘I think they’re quite keen on the opposite sex at this age, and then they go off them when they get older.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Jessica.’
‘Is she pretty?’
‘You’ll have to ask Oliver. She looks a bit dumpy to me. But she plays rockets with him, so I don’t think he minds. He asked me if she could come round to play. He was terribly shy about it. It was quite sweet.’
‘Well, I look forward to a formal introduction.’
We lapsed into silence, sipping our coffee. Something disturbed the rooks in a nearby copse, and they rose in a complaining black swirl, before eventually settling down again.