Get Out! Ch. 06
There she was cooking breakfast, humming to herself she had not heard me wake up. Tiptoeing behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist. It made her jump a little but she leaned her head to the side and kissed my lips.
“Mmmm.. What a good morning it is darling!”
She finished saying, with a grin she continued cooking the pancakes. I smirked and responded
“Yeah, from where I am standing it’s a very good morning.”
Pressing my semi-hard member into her bottom, she shook her ass and grinded herself against me.
“Well now, what would your wife think if she saw you coming on to little old me?”
I slowly leaned forward and nibbled on her earlobe.
“I don’t know, but your husband’s a pretty lucky guy!”
A soft moan escaped her lips, it was hard for her to keep focused on the pancakes.
“I love you, Marshel.”
I grinned and turned her around. Backing her against the kitchen wall. I stared into her eyes.
“Sugar, I don’t know why your making pancakes your already sweet enough.”
Giggling she kissed me, and then her diamond wedding band.
“Baby, I want to spend some more intimate time with you. But I don’t want the fire department called because we burnt down the house!”
I reluctantly let her go, with a loud slap on her firm ass. I proceeded to get myself a glass of orange juice. She plopped the pancakes onto a plate.
“Baby you have any ideas on where you want to go on our honeymoon?”
She asked. Glancing up at her, she walked over and sat on my lap. I started shooting off some ideas.
“Ireland, Florida? No wait I have an idea! My mom was telling me about her and Peter”s honeymoon. They went to South Africa. Get this, they went to London, and stayed there. At that point they went to Cape town, South Africa. From there they took a thirteen-day train ride. It starts in Cape Town, then it goes through Zimbabwe, Zambia and Tanzania. You end up in Dar Es Salaam which is pretty close to Kenya. However we would put our own special spin on the trip, we would go on a fifteen-day safari in Kapama private game reserve. That’s in Silverton, South Africa where we would get to see Lions, Rhinos, Elephants you name it!
We would then head back to Cape Town, cruise from Cape Town to Sydney, Australia. From Sydney we would cruise to Los Angeles! All and all it would take us a little over three months to do but it would be a awesome honeymoon, so what do you think?”
She sat there a few moments and slowly wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
“Wow, that sounds amazing. We’d need to get shot’s but other then that, the honeymoon sounds breathtaking! I mean all of those animals up close! Now I know you’ve been wanting to go to Florida, but you’ll just have to wait till the kids are born. Because I think that would be great for them, this however sounds amazing.”
I placed a small kiss on her nose.
“There’s going to be kids?”
The question was obviously to tease her a little.
“You bet there is!”
She started to cut up my pancakes, and flirtatiously started feeding me.
“Hey you do know that I can cut my own pancakes?”
Once again an attempt at humor, she frowned giving me the puppy dog eyes.
“I’m your wife now, I like taking care of you. Promise me that even if we have kids, the passion won”t die. I want it to be like this even after we have kids?”
I glanced at her.
“I promise, I find you sexy. I’ll always find you sexy, and I’ll never tire of you or your kisses. I love you.”
A knock came at the door, I snuck in a soft kiss.
“Baby, you want to go get that please?”
She got up from my lap, and blew a kiss at me, I smiled and cleared my plate leaving hers behind for her to eat. She opened the front door, and I hear a voice at the front door.
“Mrs. Case?”
“Yes?”
The man handed her a dozen long stem roses, the gentleman detached the note the came with the flowers. He begin to read the note.
“Sometimes the world might crash, and you feel like you”re out of gas. Through thick and thin, I’ll love you to the end. Because I live for your kisses, love your husband.”
She blushed a deep red, and took the flowers. Thanking the man she said her good-byes, and closed the door. Walking back into the kitchen she pulled out a vase and filled it with water, putting the roses in it. I was in the living room watching TV, when I saw her approach out of the corner of my eye. Turning the TV off she walked slowly over to me and sat on my lap.
“Thank you baby…”
She pressed her lips lightly against mine as her hands started massaging my shoulders. Glancing into those sexy brown eyes into mine, she started to wrap her legs around my waist. My arms wrapped around her waist in return securing her in place.
“Carry me to bed, I am helpless to your sex appeal!”
She giggled and interlocked her fingers behind my neck. I pressed my forehead against hers and walked mer over to the kitchen table.
“First you have to eat breakfast Missy!”
She started kissing my neck, lightly running the tip of her tongue against the tender flesh. In a sweet innocent whisper,
“What were you saying?”
She found my earlobe, and tugged it lightly with her teeth.
“Jessica…”
I closed my eyes, and quickly sat in a chair her hips pressing against mine.
“Sorry, I’ll eat baby.”
Giving me a teasing smile, she promptly chomped the pancakes down. A little burp came out, and she got out of my lap to clear her place. I walked up behind her; I pressed up against her.
“Honey, why didn’t you have a bachelor party? I would have been ok with it.”
That was a very random question she’d asked me, I quickly answered.
“Why do I need a stripper, when I have a beautiful wife?”
She smiled and started to grind against me a little.
“I guess I didn’t want to chance anything going wrong. Plus I’ve never been one for strip clubs or anything along that nature. Even before I met you.”
I started nipping at her neck to repay her flirtatious grinding.
“Well, this certainly makes it harder to do the dishes.”
Those sexy little moans she emitted were music to my ears. She scooped up some of the soap bubbles from the sink, and rubbed it into my hair and took off. Oh it was on now, there was no way in hell I was going to let her get away with that. So grabbing a handful of own bubbles, I ran across the house. She’d found a hiding place.
“Baby, come out. Come out where ever you are!”
She scampered out from behind me and leaped onto my back. Tossing some of the soap I had in my hands in her face, she giggled and I kissed her. Her hands started to rub my chest lightly. She hoped off my back, and pushed me onto the couch in the living room. I glanced at her, cocking my eyebrow.
“Well Mrs. Case are you trying to swindle my time?”
“Maybe?”
She commented and I kissed me.
“Possibly?”
She smirked I kissed her longer.
“Definitely!”
She finally admitted. Small kisses were given to my collarbone, my hands moved up her back and then back down. Gripping her ass lightly, she begins to graze her teeth against my earlobe. She whispered.
“Why; is it working?”
A sexy little smirk came to her lips, she begin to grind her hips in a circular motion against mine.
“What were we talking about again?”
I flashed my own sexy smirk, she was certainly getting my attention. My penis rose from its limp state to poke against her.
“Well, I think it was something along these lines? I love you.”
She spoke softly, and pressed her lips against mine.
“Angel, at this rate we are never going to plan our honeymoon.”
She grinned and gracefully sank to her knees after she placed a pillow on the ground.
“So?”
She started opening my robe; she snaked a hand into my boxers; and pulled my penis out. Clearing my throat, it was becoming increasingly hard for my train of thought to determine what I was going to say next. Well I was finally able to think of something to say.
“Ok, I”ll make you a deal miss. We can fool around a little, but I want to make sure we start to get planning on our honeymoon. I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated!”
She offered a little pout, and slowly to kiss my bellybutton. She knew we had to start planning, especially since she was going to have to work that with her agent. She nodded, and blushed at my comment. I found it sexy that she didn”t want to wait till our honeymoon.
“Ok baby, but I”ll need something to hold me over till now and then.”
She swept those long brown strands of hair out of her face, one side quickly draped half of her face. That only served to make her look sexier. Kissing the head of my penis she flashed a devilish smile revealing a lot of her pearl white teeth. Lashing her tongue out against the smooth under skin, playing the tip just underneath the head of my penis.
“Ohh..”
Her muffled giggles filled the room, her soft hand attached its self to the base of it. Stroking up and down in long and even strokes, her other hand moved to start playing with my balls. Fondling them gently she squeezed them, and placed just the head in between her soft warm lips. Her one brown eye darted up wards to meet my blue eyes, however she would only catch a glimpse as I slowly shut my eyes.
“God yeah.”
A hand slowly headed down and swept its way through her hair that other eye came out of its hiding spot. My hand moved towards the back of her head, and cupped it. Intertwining a few of my fingers in some strands of her hair, I cradled the back of her head to aid her oral efforts. The whole length was finally put into her mouth at a teasing pace, the head of my penis touched the back of her throat.
“Oh baby!”
She coated the entire shaft with salvia, making it easier to guide up and down it at her will. Her tongue skillfully played in circles around my member. There was a lot of love behind her sucking, I could feel the electricity flowing through out my body.
“Please baby, yeah!”
She let my member out of her mouth, and slowly put it back in. Again it touched the back of her throat, she relaxed and eased my member a little way down her throat leaving herself room to breath. She had started to speed up with her stroking she had gotten good in the sexual sense, we”d both been with each other enough to wear practice was making perfect. Though she did gag just a little bit it was only natural, it was quite big to get used to.
“Uhhh..”
Squeezing the back of her heads my body was going haywire, I couldn”t feel anything anymore. Only the connection between her and me, a bomb could be going off outside and I wouldn”t have heard it. The tingling started to happen it started in my balls, and went straight to my toes.
“God, I am cumming!”
Eagerly she prepared herself, as jets of warm cum clashed against the back of her throat. As the jets started to slow down, she aided by milking the last of it out of me. At that point she started treating it like a lollipop, pulling it out of her mouth and licking the last few drops. She swallowed it all at once, like it was milk and smiled licking her lips. At which point she decided to make a sexy comment.
“Thank you, drinking that stuff helps a girl grow big and strong. It tastes great too. Got cum? I know I just did!”
A sexy wink was given, at that moment I would have sworn she was doing a commercial for milk, which is what she was shooting for. So I added my two cents.
“Something tells me that not many people would appreciate you add running during regular prime time TV.”
She gave a soft sock to my arm, and pouted.
“Well the porn industry might!”
A wink was given, and she got up off her knees and sat on my lap. Pressing the tip of her nose against mine. Those dark brown eyes stared into my eyes, and once again I got lost in her. I put myself away in my boxers, and tied my robe back around my waist.
“Well, you aren”t doing a add for the porn industry. Because I am the only one who is going to see you naked. Right?”
She blushed, the protective side of me often made her do that. Rubbing her nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss.
“I”ll have to think about that.”
A half smirk came to her lips, she wanted to see if she could get under my skin a little. Well that was one sure-fire way to do it, I frowned slightly and wrapped my arms around her waist bringing my body heat to her body.
“No, no you won”t. I am your husband; I am the only one who will see you naked. I don”t want fifty million guys ogling over you.”
She smiled, and kissed me softly. She ran her hands through my hair, and nodded slowly. Whispering into my ear.
“Ok baby, I was just kidding. You are my man, you”re the only one who gets to see me and touch me any way you want.”
I smiled and nodded, and decided to return a kiss of my own.
“Good!”
She smiled and finally got off my lap, and offered a hand to help me up.
“Come on sweetheart, we”d better plan that trip if we ever plan on going.”
Well, it seems that the roles reversed and she was the one in my shoes now.
“Well, well, well. So it”s ok to plan the trip when princess Jessica is ready?”
She nodded.
“Basically, that”s the way things go.”
I chuckled and stood up from the couch, walking into the computer room. Turning it online I proceeded to start booking our vacation. We were arriving in Cape Town, South Africa on September thirtieth and stay in the Arabella Sheraton Grand Hotel. The train ride with Rovo”s Rail started in Cape Town, on October first at ten AM. We would proceed to take a thirteen-day train ride into Dar Es Salaam which was in Tanzania. When we arrived in Tanzania, we would take an 18 safari into Kenya, where we would be lodging in the Kapama private game reserve.
After we finished with our Safari, we would head back to Cape Town. Catch a cruise on Princess”s “PACIFIC PRINCESS” from Cape Town to Sydney, Australia. Which would take a total of 29 days. We will then stay the night at Swiss-Grand resort and Spa on Bondi beach in Sydney. The next morning we will board Cunard”s “Queen Elizabeth II” in a twenty-two day cruise from Sydney to Los Angeles, California. That would then leave us with nine days to play with in LA. We decided to invite my parents and her parents at that point to meet us and we would proceed to go to Disneyland and Universal Studios. We”d be spending Christmas in Disneyland, this was going to be one heck of a trip!
After booking all of it, it was time to start planning shots and clothing we only had a month to get our stuff together. After shots, passports, rental cars, the honeymoon and all other expenses. The trip was looking to cost somewhere in the seventy to eighty thousand dollar range. Finally the moment of reckoning had come it was time to start our adventure; we tied up any lose ends and headed to the airport by cab.
Lugging the heavy bags we were both still a little sore from all of the shots we had to take in order to go to Africa. As well as all these other places, flashing our passport we boarded our flight on British Airways. Sitting in our first class seats, there was no way I was going to take a twelve-hour flight any other way.
Relaxing in our comfy chairs, I smiled at my wife as I wrapped my arm around her slim shoulder. She rested her head against my shoulder, and glanced at the menu in front of her. The plane was warming up, the typical welcoming committee came on, the Captain and the stewardesses. This was my first time flying first class, so it was a little over whelming. A blonde stewardess smiled at me and asked in a slightly over zealous tone.
“May I get you two anything? Coffee, wine?”
Jessica smiled at her back, she sort of felt sorry for the girl. It must have really sucked to have to pretend to be happy all of the time.
“Um, I think I”ll have a seven-up.”
Jessica tried to bury her face back into my shoulder after addressing the girl. It was most likely because she remembered what happened last time she was on a plane. She had to deal with a fan, which was all right at times. But not ok when she was trying to spend some time with her husband. I smiled and gave my answer.
“Yeah, I think I”ll have coke. Something with caffeine, by the way do you know what movie they”ll be showing?”
The perky stewardess nodded, and answered.
“I believe it”s going to be the Passion of Christ, and Troy. I”ll be right back with your drinks.”
I tell you before I could blink we had our drinks being served to us, after she took her seat along with the other servers after the captains orders to do so we took off. We left at ten in the morning so we wouldn”t be in Cape Town till ten that night, or around there. My wife didn”t take long to fall asleep, her head resting on my shoulder, which had a pillow on it she”d gotten. She had one arm draped over my chest, and the other draped around my next. It was a little uncomfortable yes, but I liked it at the same time because I got to be so close.
The stewardess that had served us before walked over to us, and smiled. She spoke quietly so she didn”t wake Jo Jo up.
“Sorry, it”s my first day being a real live stewardess I forgot to introduce myself. I am candy.”
She extended a small hand, and flashed a flirtatious smile. I shook her hand, and introduced myself.
“I am Marshel, this is Jessica my wife. Next to meet you.”
She cracked a not so funny joke.
“Well pleasure to meet you, I”d shake her hand but it doesn”t look like she”s up to it.”
I nodded and responded.
“Yeah, she”s had a long day. She wants to get her beauty rest so she”s ready to go. It”s our honeymoon.”
She nodded.
“Oh ok, well I”ll leave you two alone.”
I watched as she turned around and went to her seat, what a weird woman. Finally I got some rest to, and before we knew it we were in Cape Town. Every one got of the plane and went to the luggage conveyor belt machine. We grabbed are luggage and took a cab to our hotel, Arabella Sheraton Grand Hotel. We settled into our nice suite, we crashed and settled into getting use to the time difference. Sleeping till it was 4 AM the next day we got out of bed and headed to the Rovo”s Rail station. (10-hour time difference so if it”s ten PM in California, then it”d be eight AM the next day in Africa.)
It took us a couple of hours to get there, we settled into the very beautiful train. The outward appearance was made of solid oak, and gold trim all along the train. We boarded the train, and settled into our “Royal suite car”. We settled our stuff into the train the car was massive. It had it”s own constantly stocked refrigerator, with anything from soda to champagne. We had been told that though you can come out and snack whenever you want, on almost anything you want there was a set time on actual meals.
You were required to wear some kind of formal wear, they said it added to the environment. All and all, just this cost us 9, 500 a person so it came out to 19, 700 dollars. But it was well worth it, the bed”s were giant and you where suppose to see wonderful sites. As well as have any food you wanted, at any time you wanted and be in the company of the people whom were traveling in the train with you.
Day 1
We departed from Cape Town today, the staff said we were headed to some place called “Matjiesfontein.” Jessica”s in awe of all the sites around use, they have shuttered windows. Five of them to be exact, we can”t help with fooling with them it”s hard not to. I”ve never been on something this fancy, I think Jo was a little taken back to! The guy who owns, and runs this train is a multi-billionaire and it shows when you look all around you. All I could think of, it running and jumping onto the king sized bed. Sure we had one at home, but if I did that at home I would have to make the bed in the morning.
There are a few Europeans on the train with us, most of who are investment bankers or lawyers. Some sort of position that makes big bucks, you”ve got to have to some serious money to throw around to take this trip. We arrived in Matjiesfontein it was a small and quaint little village. We got out, and Jessica grabbed my hand tightly. It was about 6 o clock in the afternoon, and it was about 75 degrees outside it was most likely the temperature that it was going to be around the whole time.
I suddenly felt a pure hatred for Harry Mortimer. Squaddies who were just trying to protect Britain had died because of his greed. They weren’t even given any measure of respect, probably a slow, painful death, and then their bodies tossed from the back of a van on an Irish road, probably pissing with rain at the time. Poor bastards. A minor thought occurred to me.
“Why were the bodies dumped over the border?” I asked.
“We guess so it would be a while before they were found. It was pure luck anyway, the local Guarda officer had a puncture on his way to Dundalk, got out to fix it and saw the bags in the ditch at the side of the lane. He went to see what they were and…”
The PM trailed off, seeming genuinely sad at the loss of life. My respect for him lifted a few notches.
I decided to give him a small prod.
“You mentioned the ‘Sari’ group, Sir?”
“Yes Jon. It’s a long story.”
We both settled back in our chairs, and I was eager to hear the full version of events.
* * * * *
I emerged onto Whitehall, feeling a total and utter prick. I had thought I was the dogs bollocks, snooping around, trying to uncover some grand plot, when really I was just a puppet in a play. And I hadn’t even been smart enough to let the thought cross my mind.
I was well pleased to get a promotion in some respects, but I wasn’t relishing the extra responsibility. Having the Security Services and the Military in my control was fine in principle, but the decisions I would be making were going to have wide reaching consequences.
I had to take the promotion, because I didn’t know if it would ever come up again, but I was just looking at it with a little trepidation. Defence of the Realm was a hot potato at the moment, and I was going to have to be careful not to get my fingers burnt. I knew I should be well chuffed to get a promotion, but nothing could lift my black mood at the moment.
The first spots of rain fell onto the pavement, and I looked up to see taxis and buses with their wipers going. I broke into a jog as I went past the Foreign Office and The Treasury; I really didn’t want to be caught in a shower. I had already been pissed on once this morning.
I got to the Westminster Bridge road junction, and made to turn right, and take a short cut through the nearby shops up the Broad Sanctuary. As I turned, I noticed the police escort stopping traffic, and a hearse travelling through slowly, accompanied by three cars of mourners. Despite my best efforts to blank my mind out, instantly it came back to me.
* * * * *
Two Years Previously
“Many people there tonight, Dad?” I asked.
“Fair few, yes son. We saw Charles and Rosemary.”
“Oh yeah. Are they keeping well?”
“Charlie’s just retired, he spends his days pottering around his garden now.” Dad laughed. It was a dream he wasn’t too far away from himself.
The car fell silent as I sped along the country lanes. Mum was asleep in the back seat. I had been out this evening, just to watch a rugby match in London, and I had picked my parents up in Basingstoke as their evening gathering had ended.
Looking at the dash clock, I noted 23:03. I had only been on the road about an hour and a quarter, good going to cover the 40 miles, especially considering the detour to pick up Mum and Dad. The motorway had been quiet, and we were now off the M3, speeding through the Hampshire countryside towards home. I shifted into top gear, before relaxing with one hand on the wheel, looking through the tunnel of light stretching for half a mile ahead.
Home was a nice detached house on the outskirts of the city of Salisbury, famous for its huge Cathedral. Despite having just received my first payday as an MP, after winning the by-election two months ago, I still lived with my parents. If truth be known, I quite liked it there. They didn’t bother me; I stayed out of their way.
I was making a move to buy a house, but there was no hurry. I had my eyes on a beautiful detached house in a nearby village, but as I wanted to put down a sizable deposit, I thought it best to build up the bank balance a bit first, and so, living with Mum and Dad was the only option for now.
That first cheque had bought the beautiful new Audi I was sat behind the wheel of. It drove like a dream, and its powerful headlights lit up the road ahead. We only had about 20 miles to go to home, and had just passed the village of Stockbridge.
I realised I probably would have been home by now if I hadn’t stopped to pick up the folks, but Dad’s car was being repaired, so the taxi duty fell to me. I wasn’t that bothered, I was going that way anyhow. I allowed myself to think of my bed for a moment. I was beginning to tire. It had been a long day, and that half a lager I had had before leaving the match was probably having an effect too.
I thought of a question about tomorrow’s plans.
“Are you still…SHIT!” I screamed.
The Audi lurched to one side, and the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp. It took my frantic mind a second to realise that the left front side was in the air, and my foot was still glued on the accelerator, and I saw the plumes of tyre smoke trailing from the car.
The vehicle started a slow spin. I realised the back suspension must have collapsed on one side. Oh God the trees!
We had entered a wooded area, and they were approaching fast. By now my mother had awoken in the back seat. I knew the impact was coming.
“BRACE YOURSELF” I shouted, trying to hang on to the wheel. There was only one option to try and avoid a serious accident. It had only been two seconds since the failure, and I was still doing 50mph.
I gently eased up the handbrake. The speed started to scrub off, 40, 30. Then, BANG. One of the rear tyres blew under the load. Immediately the car kicked away from me. I was now a helpless passenger, just like my parents. I tried to swear, but the word stuck in my throat. This was going to be a big impact.
I vaguely remember the Audi thudding into the Horse Chestnut on my parents side of the car, The airbag deployed in my face, but my neck whacked into the headrest on the way back. I switched off the engine somehow, and then couldn’t stay awake. I saw the dashboard clock again. 23:09.
* * * * *
The next time I came to I was in a hospital bed. Winchester General I thought. My neck was really stiff, and I couldn’t feel much of my legs. They had probably hit the steering column hard in the crash. For just a second there was a fear of paralysis, but then managed to shift my weight slightly.
The physician was looking over my leg, and he noticed my eyes coming open.
“Good evening Mr Carter. I’m Dr. York.” He said.
Suddenly it came to me. If I was here, then where?
“My parents, were they bought in?” I asked.
When Dr York paused and looked away, I knew what was coming, and there was no way I could believe it. Trying to speak, I found I couldn’t. I waited for the inevitable with dread.
“Mr Carter, I’m told there was a huge impact on the side of your car that your parents were on. It took the Firemen over an hour to cut them out.”
He stopped, and I glared at him, making him continue.
“They both had huge internal injuries, and lost a lot of blood at the scene. We couldn’t do anything to resuscitate them. I’m very sorry.”
We were both lost for words. I swallowed away the lump in my throat, only to have it instantly replaced. How could I have escaped like this? I was in control of the car. I covered my face with my hands. I wasn’t going to cry, but I felt like shit. My parents were dead.
* * * * *
The next few days were humiliating for me. Phoning relatives I never knew existed, talking to close family members whom I hadn’t spoken to in years. Accepting condolences time and time again. And being subjected to a police investigation.
My blood alcohol level was well inside the legal limit, but I was treated like filth. Never mind the fact that there had been a major mechanical failure on the car. (Attributed to road conditions by scene examiners.)
I was never allowed to come to terms with my loss. I had to prove to everybody that I was a man. Jon, who never showed any emotion, could handle anything thrown at him. In effect I shut down my life. I had just become the MP for Wiltshire South, and after taking some compassionate leave I threw myself into the workload, and coupled with mounting public awareness of my profile, I was promoted to a Junior Cabinet Minister inside 14 months.
I had never been that close to my siblings when I grew up. Being a few years older than me, we morphed into different generations of people. In my eyes, they became obsessed with money and status symbols, trying to prove to everyone the fruits of their labours, and how good their life was. I liked to think I was above that, and it probably led to our estranged lives.
I was upset though, that everyone blamed me for the accident. I was treated like an outcast, and it still is a heavy burden for me to carry. Moving to London just cemented the status, and it contributed to the state of my life. All the while I plodded on alone, with no one to confide in, no one to go to for advice. I’ve survived like it for so long now I don’t really know much different.
I still think about the accident, even carrying a little guilt with me. Could I have reacted quicker if I hadn’t had alcohol inside me? Defiantly. Would it have made any difference? Highly unlikely.
After the funeral I never saw any of my family again, save for a card informing me I had a new niece, Rebecca Elizabeth. A shame she would probably not get to know her Uncle Jon.
So that’s how I’ve come to have no family, I don’t have many friends either, but that’s stories for another day.
I stood in silent respect as the funeral cortege passed by, and then quickly made my way home. The past few weeks had caught up with me, and for the rest of the day I lounged around the flat, before watching a DVD and enjoying an early night.
* * * * *
Probably due to going to bed too early the night before, I woke at 05:30, with London still cloaked in darkness outside. I jumped out of bed, and pulled on a sweater to protect me from the cold of the flat. Stumbling towards the computer in the lounge I sat down, and booted the machine up.
Two things needed my immediate attention. The so called ‘Sari’ group, and Virginie Ledoyen.
It turned out that Harry Mortimer had been selling information about entry points into the UK to a cartel known as the Sari group. Quite why our friendly Press Advisor would risk his job and imprisonment for them no one had an answer for.
Anyhow, this cartel was based in Lybia, and from what MI6 could acetone mainly dealt in the heroin trade between Afghanistan and Europe in the later 90’s. Apparently the pure drug was shipped there to be refined before entering the European market through the Spanish coast around the Straight Of Gibraltar. Just lately though, they had begun to ship large quantities of weapons into the continent. Not just small arms either. Huge anti aircraft artillery, and several other high powered missiles, including some of the old Russian scud jobs of the late 70’s.
MI6 had suspected they were trying to bring a shipment into the UK for some time, and this suspicion was confirmed when they stumbled upon Harry Mortimer selling them information on weak entry points. News of his turning had travelled fast among the crime syndicates of Europe, and now he was just freelancing information all over the place. But for the moment, that was Special Branch’s problem. The Northern Ireland Desk would be involved at some point after the PIRA incident.
The CD loaded, and lit up the screen with full details of the group, which I can’t repeat for security reasons. What I can say is that the group had close links with German allies, as well as a certain French Nationalist group.
I had no idea that Virginie Ledoyen was a fanatical right winger. If truth be known, I couldn’t do anything about her either. I’d ordered MI5 to lift her if she came into Britain at any time, but that might not be for ages. I looked forward to some personal revenge though.
It turned out that Mortimer had somehow gleaned information of my Olympic report investigation, and indirectly knew it may expose him. I had no idea who’d paid for him to get the report destroyed, and I didn’t care. The important thing was that it had been set right now. Anyway, he alerted the chiefs in Africa, they contacted the French group and there on. Virginie was just a pawn, as was I really.
As I said, it pissed me off that MI6 knew about most of this, but didn’t bother to tell me. I’d put myself in danger, and the Firm had done sod all, save for Deighton pumping me for information in Paris. I saw now that it had all been set up perfectly to enable him to report back to the PM exactly what I knew, and then he obviously made the decision to intervene when I became to heavily involved. Fair one, Deighton was just doing his job, but I’d obviously made a mistake trusting him. Oh well, burn and learn I suppose.
I finished reading the file, and destroyed the CD by snapping it in half. It would have to stay like that in the flat until I could dispose of it properly.
I couldn’t work on the problems for a while, since for the next few days I had to actually do some Government business, and even took the time to go back to my home constituency for some much needed PR work. The events of earlier in the week had started me thinking about my parents again, and I stopped off in the cemetery on the way back to pay a silent visit to their graveside.
Come Friday, I decided to confront the big issue in my life. Natalie or Avril? There was no question that I was starting to fall for Avril hard, although there was always the thought that I wouldn’t be seeing her for a while. Would it be so wrong to ‘keep my options open?’
Natalie was amazing, no doubt about it, but I didn’t get the same kick from her that Avril gave me. I decided to ring her and straighten with her. I had never actually lied to her, so hopefully if I told her the truth we could still be friends.
Locating my wallet I got her number, and dialled it into the phone. Cradling it between my ear and shoulder, I took my freshly made cup of tea from the counter and had a noisy slurp, just as the line connected.
“Hello?” said a voice. I instantly knew that it wasn’t Natalie.
“Er, no. I think I’ve dialled the wrong number. Sorry.” I stammered.
“Whoa, hang on. Who are you after?” the female voice asked.
I felt a little foolish. “Natalie Imbruglia,” I said quietly, waiting for the laugh from the other end.
“Who is calling please?” My heart soared. Surely that meant it was the right number.
“Jon Carter. A… friend.” I paused to find the correct phrase.
“Ah yes. She left a message for you. Come down to her house, and I’ll give it to you.”
An address was quickly given to me, which I scribbled down on the phone pad.
“And you are?” I enquired
“You’ll see when you get here.” The voice responded.
* * * * *
Just on a whim, I decided to take the car. It had been a long time since I had driven anything, but thinking about my parents had given me a spur to see if I could still do it.
I grabbed my coat, and walked down the stairwell to the underground garages. It had been a while since I’d even been down here, heck, even Avril had probably spent more time here that I had in the past year.
Avril. What exactly did she want to store in my garage? Her asking me that as I left had only just come back to me.
By now I had reached the door, and flung it up in one motion.
I stood slack jawed at the sight before me. I couldn’t even see the car through the sea of cardboard boxes stacked high at the front. All of them were stamped ‘IMPORT’ or, ‘FOR SALE IN ASIA ONLY’.
I pulled the first box down and lifted the lid. 2000 Taiwanese copies of ‘Let Go’ came straight back at me. ‘Property Of Arista Ltd’ was the only English on the carton.
I hastily opened more boxes. 14000 Canadian singles of “Losing Grip’, 5000 ‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door,’ all seemingly stamped with Not For Resale.
Add to that a countless number of Skater Boy singles and it was easy to see why I couldn’t get access to the car. My mind was boggled at this. Granted, my brain wasn’t always in gear at this time of day, but I failed to see why Avril or her record label had to resort to storing compact discs in my garage.
I couldn’t actually do anything though. I had no - where to move them to, but as soon as I got back I was going to contact Avril and ask exactly what was going on. People soon start suspecting things if you have thousands of CD’s in you garage.
Something I’d learnt when I was about 18 is that if you find something you can’t explain or can’t change, put it out of your mind for now. As soon as I’d shifted the boxes to make a clear path for the car I quickly forgot about them as I familiarized myself with the car again. Almost as an afterthought I nicked a few CD’s from the boxes. My personal collection wasn’t big, and I thought I should at least start listening to Avril’s music if she was my girlfriend.
For someone on a large salary, I didn’t own anything special in the auto game. Just a standard Ford Focus. The insurance company had paid off £20,000 for the wrecked Audi, and I’d bought the car with some of that cash, and then used the rest as a deposit on the flat.
I did the maths in my mind quickly. If I’d bought the Focus two years ago, and the last time I used it was on a weekend trip to Normandy a few Christmas’ back, then from my calculation I hadn’t driven a car in well over a year.
The interior didn’t smell too nice after all that time standing in a stagnant garage. I slipped into the driver’s seat, pushed the stiff clutch in, and turned the key. For just a second there was a sound of rough parts moving, and then she burst into life. I grilled the throttle for a second, before remembering those annoying Castrol TV ads that lectured you about going easy on the car first thing.
I sat idly for a few minutes, picking my fingernails, trying to figure out what to do in the next hour. And guess what? I came up with absolutely nothing. Improvisation was the order of the day, but I knew no matter what I tried neither of us were going to come out of this smelling like roses.
Engaging reverse, I released the handbrake, and then tried to pull out of the garage. And promptly stalled.
“Bloody gearbox,” I muttered to myself.
A poor workman, with man being the operative word, always blame his tools. Trying again, this time I took the clutch up perfectly and the car rolled smoothly out into the underground bay.
In no time at all I was familiar with the machine again, and I crawled through Trafalgar Square towards the Embankment. Whilst stopped at a set of traffic lights, I glanced out the window, and looked at the security cameras outside Charing Cross station.
“Oh fuck!” I shouted, thinking I was within the privacy of the car. With the windows down though, a few pedestrians heard me, and openly laughed.
I immediately scratched my head. Because I hadn’t driven the car in ages, I realised I had lapsed on the insurance and road tax, a double whammy that’ll land you in prison if the police catch up with you. I nearly shat myself when I realised that I hadn’t paid the congestion charge either, but that could be rectified later on.
The lights went green, and due to my agitated state of mind I stalled again, my curses from inside the car being matched by those coming from annoyed motorists.
“I’m going to fucking ‘ave you, you fucking cunt!” was the pick of the bunch from a bloke in a red Mondeo.
I totally misjudged the clutch, and pulled away with a mighty roar, all the while doing about 5 miles per hour. I got to the Embankment as fast as I could, and then thanked the Lord that Natalie had a driveway. At least with the car off the road I was safe from the cops for the time being.
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