Chapter Twenty-Nine
Deeta
“How’s your arm?” I ask softly. “Do you think it’ll be alright?”
“It’ll be fine.” Tom doesn’t look at me but pulls a grey and black camouflage shirt over the top of his black tee shirt.
“Ryder said you’d been detailed on a special mission.” My voice is strained. “Something about taking the Lewises communications down.”
“That’s right.” Tom continues to button his shirt.
“Ryder isn’t going with you?”
“No; Jamie and Robin will come part of the way, but they have their own missions,” answers Tom, pulling a bullet proof vest over his head. I move forwards to help him secure it in place, and for a few seconds we stand together motionless.
“Your chances aren’t very good, are they, Tom?”
He steps backwards and away from me.
“Not particularly.”
He checks the magazine in one of the guns lined up on the chest of drawers, and slides it into the holster at his waist. His movements quick and precise. For a second I watch his calmness, and the capability of his hands as they fiddle with the intricacies of the weapons.
“Why you, Tom?” I arrest his arm as he moves to pick something from off the table. “You have Uncle Jep and the children all relying on you.”
Tom looks down at me and I see a sudden frown settle on his face.
“What are you doing in that get up?” he asks, eyeing my camouflage jumpsuit with disfavour.
“You heard Val.” I’m surprised by the anger in his voice. “Anyone with any experience is required to help.”
“Not you, so you can go and take that stuff off.”
“Tom, I’ve got to —”
Tom closes the drawer he has opened with a sharp click, and turns to face me, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“I said go and take it off.”
“But, Tom —”
“For goodness sake, Deeta!” he exclaims impatiently. “Why do you insist on thwarting me? Why do you think I volunteered for this mission? So that you could get your head blown off by some Lewis thug?” His hands encircle my arms, gripping me painfully. “I’m trying to protect you, Deeta, why are you making it so hard for me?”
The room is silent for a moment. I gaze up into his face, watching as the frustration and anger disappear to be replaced by another, very different emotion. How often Tom has looked at me just like this, but before I never guessed at the battle that was raging within him. It’s only now, as I see the tautness in his frame and feel the struggle and hesitation of his fingers digging into my flesh, that I recognise that he is fighting something in himself. Suddenly one hand comes up and I feel him brush the curls back from my face.
“You’re making it too hard on me, Deeta, far too hard. Maybe that’s just an excuse, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I’m a little crazy with fever and the fear that this time I won’t come back. Fear that if I don’t, my biggest regret will be that I never did this…”
Tom’s embrace is firm but it is a moment before he kisses me, as though even now, at this late stage, he might draw back. After a moment his head drops and his lips touch mine lightly. It is only when he is sure of my acceptance that his arms tighten and his kiss becomes more demanding. Tom is nothing if not thorough and, having waited such a long time, he seems in no mood to rush. I stir a little so that I can steal my arm around his neck, and immediately his embrace slackens. If I want to, I know I could pull away.
I don’t want to.
“Tom?” My voice is as unsteady as the legs that are holding me up. His fingers caress my cheek gently, their rough texture surprisingly pleasurable.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know; maybe I should have left it at just wanting.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“So am I.” He grins.
We stay still, holding on to each other tightly and revelling in this new found closeness between us.
“Did you know?” asks Tom suddenly.
“About what?”
“How I felt about you?”
“Not until yesterday when we were running away from the Andak guard. You took a bullet for me, Tom; you had to like me a little bit.”
“I’d take a thousand bullets for you if it would keep you safe and happy,” answers Tom.
“Your being riddled with a thousand bullets would not make me happy, Tom, let’s get that straight here and now!”
“And I like you more than a little,” continues Tom.
“Yeah… well…” I blush.
When Jamie walks in it’s to find us embracing again.
“Oh, sorry, Tom.” Jamie begins to back out of the room, embarrassed, but comes to an abrupt halt as he sees just who it is that Tom is so busy with. “Deeta?”
“Hi, Jamie.” I greet him airily, acutely aware of the fact that I am sandwiched between Tom and the chest of drawers.
“Jamie, I’m a bit busy, we’ll talk later.” Tom’s tone is curt, inviting Jamie’s absence.
“Yes, I can see that; with Deeta!” responds Jamie incredulously.
“Jamie, I realised that what I’m about to say is very impolite, but I’m sure you’ll understand.” Tom takes a deep, steadying breath. “Get lost would you?”
“What? Oh, sorry… right… sure!” Jamie grins, tucking his hands into his pockets and backing out of the door. “Sorry!”
As the door closes on him we hear his muffled voice.
“Hey, hold up, mate! Take my advice; your presence is not required in there, trust me!”
Tom laughs and shakes his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine.
“What now, Tom?”
“Well, here’s how I see it; I have about five or ten minutes before I have to report in and my mission gets underway. I can’t think of a better way of spending that time than with you.”
“You’re still going to go.” It is a statement of fact, not a question.
“Someone has to.”
“Why does it have to be you? It’s not fair.”
“And if it was Joe Blogs, would that be fair?”
“No, I didn’t mean… it would be a lot easier on me if it were, Tom.” I brush the back of my hand across my wet cheeks. “What if you don’t come back?”
“Deeta…” Tom pushes my chin up and my eyes meet his. “I can’t promise you anything but this: I will do everything humanly possible to come back to you. Do you think that, just as I finally have you, I want to do this?”
I brush my tears away, determind that I won’t cry while he’s still here to see it. Tom takes my hand and together we walk to the Depot. I can’t shake the knowledge that in a very short time he will leave me.
What if he doesn’t come back?
-------
Ryder
Ryder is already present in the warehouse and raises his eyebrow fractionally at Tom, beckoning him to the table he’s standing by.
“What happened to it being far too great a risk to Deeta?” he asks slyly as Tom joins him.
“I’m sorry I’m not sure to what your talking about,” answers Tom blandly.
“You’ve got a decided spring in you step, my lad, and Deeta has that just been physically assaulted look. What happened to make you change your mind?”
“Come on, Rye, you know the odds as well as I do. If I’m gonna get a bullet or two in the head today…” He breaks off looking down at the map. “I guess I couldn’t face it when Deeta didn’t know that I loved her.”
Ryder gazes down at Tom’s bent head and for the first time in a long time feels that certain something of being the elder sibling, a sort of protectiveness. It’s something he hasn’t felt since he and Tom were children, something it never occurred to him that he would still feel for Tom. After all, his brother is now a fully grown and more than capable man nearing thirty with a whole family depending on him.
Val returns to the tabl
e, calling Ryder back to the present and he becomes brisk.
“We’ve ascertained that the Lewises communications base is just here, well behind enemy lines.”
“If we attack here, there will be a momentary breach in their defences. In the reshuffle to close the gap, you’ll be able to slip through,” states Val.
“But getting in is the easy bit, Tom.”
“You have another suggestion, Rye? I’d be glad to give it a shot.”
“For goodness sake, Tom; don’t joke about taking shots!” rasps Ryder, his inner worry breaking through his outward calm.
“Do me a favour, would you, Rye?”
“I’ll look after them, don’t worry,” interrupts Ryder, knowing Tom’s thoughts.
Tom is silent for a moment, unsure how to express himself.
“Don’t do it,” advises Ryder, with a rather rigid smile. “Just come back, then you won’t have to make this embarrassing speech.”
Tom smiles.
“Do me another favour?”
“Don’t push it!”
“Don’t have anything more to do with Jimmy. If he’s captured, stay well out of it.”
“Tom —”
“Promise me, Ryder. He’s poison, and in taking our revenge he’ll poison us too.”
Ryder hesitates for a moment before nodding in agreement.
Tom climbs on the waiting motor bike and, together with Jamie and Robin, makes his way out of the compound and into the City.
-------
Deeta
The depot is quiet after they are gone. I hear the throb of the bikes engines as they fade into the distance.
“It’s a backup plan, Deeta.” Ryder appears at my side. “He may never have to do it; maybe the preliminary block will work.”
“We both know that’s not very likely, Rye.” I look up at him; he’s gazing at the doors which are closing after Tom’s departure. He seems far away, lost in his own unhappy thoughts.
“Where will you be, Rye?”
“I have command of the north east post.”
“You’re on the front line, aren’t you?”
He doesn’t acknowledge my question, and I know by his silence that I’m right.
“Robin and Jamie will go part way with, Tom. Pip, Ralph, and Nella have already taken up their positions.” I rub the tears out of my eyes. “How many of you will come back?”
“Sometimes you have to fight to protect the things you love, Deeta.” His voice is soft.
“What if you can’t fight for them? What if you have to stand and watch as they slip through your fingers?” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Rye; forget I said that.”
We stand in silence, both knowing that soon he too must leave.
“Come back, Rye, for Janny’s sake; please come back.”
He doesn’t respond, either by word or look. I guess because there isn’t a response to my words. What can he say? He can’t promise me that he’ll live through the battle that awaits. My gaze travels back to the table that Tom was pouring over just a few short moments ago. Val is there still, a pen tucked behind one ear and a ruler in his hand. He is, I believe, calculating by hand the speed at which the Lewises are travelling and the estimated time of their arrival.
I don’t think that he sees her at first, his attention is so absorbed by his task. Suddenly he seems to notice that the person standing across from him is sheathed in a violet dress, not grey and black camouflage, and he looks up quickly.
“I’m sorry. I… I… ” Charlotte Brennan swallows nervously. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Val looks surprised and for some seconds he just stares up at her, not thinking to straighten.
“I’m sorry, you’re busy… ” Charlotte makes to leave and Val jerks upright, his hand outstretched towards her.
“No, no, I’m not!”
I see the beginnings of a smile trembling on Charlotte’s lips.
“Okay, so actually I’m very busy,” amends Val with a sheepish grin. “What did you want?”
For a second Charlotte is undecided, a nervous fear that I can see even at this distance filling her eyes.
“I guess I wanted to say…” Her voice trails off as she gropes for an appropriate way to express herself. Her eyes fill with tears. “Please come back, Val.”
She raises her hand as though she will cover her face but Val reaches out, taking her hands in his own and pulling her trembling form into his arms. Charlotte clings to him tightly as the tears stream down her face, and I turn from them abruptly.
How is it that this terrible thing we’re facing is sorting out the problems that, just a few short hours ago, seemed insurmountable? Both bringing us together and yet tearing us apart?
“I have to go, Deeta.” Ryder’s voice is hesitant. “Tell Jan I love her, will you?”
Before I can answer him, he is gone, striding off towards the truck that will take him to his post. He swings up into the seat not turning to look at me again.
“Deeta?”
I turn sharply at the sound of my name being called, and find that Val is beckoning me.
“Did you want something?” I ask in surprise.
His arm tightens around Charlotte and in his eyes I see his reluctance to express himself. It’s as though he knows what he must do, but at the same time feels an almost overpowering urge to rebel against it.
“I have to take my station, could you… would you take Charlotte to the pavilion? Come to think of it you ought to be there yourself.”
I nod my acceptance of the task but still Val does not relinquish her, if anything his hold tightens.
“Charlotte, I… I have to go now.” He bends his head, kissing her again and then he’s gone. He leaves Charlotte and me to face each other awkwardly.
“I guess we’d better go.”
“Yeah, I suppose we had.”
I see Charlotte trying vainly to hold her tears in check as we turn and leave the bustling depot behind us.
“You know, I keep thinking.” Charlotte’s voice is thick with suppressed emotion. “Is it worse for them or us? I mean, at least they are doing something. They don’t have to sit and wait and wonder and hope.” Her grey eyes are rather wild and bright. “And if they did die, it’s actually us who have to live with it. It’s us who feel the loss; we are the ones that are left behind, trying to forget.” She only just manages to finish her sentence before her voice is suspended with tears.
I don’t know how to answer. Who it hurts the most doesn’t seem to be very important to me. I just pat her arm in what I hope is a comforting manner, and continue in silence.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she asks suddenly.
I am on the verge of saying no when I suddenly remember the feel of Tom’s arms around me, the ardour of his kisses. I smile, feeling suddenly very warm.
“Yes, I do have a boyfriend.”
“Then you know what I mean.” Her hand squeezes my arm painfully, her eyes eager and friendly. “You know how much it hurts.”
We walk along in silence, passing out of the town hall and into the pleasure gardens.
“I’ve been an idiot.” Her voice is miserable. “You see; Val and I used to be engaged.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye feeling a growing discomfort. After all, I already know quite a bit about Charlotte and Val’s failed romance. Her acceptance of my ignorance is making me feel slightly dishonest.
“There were… problems, circumstances that I allowed to get in the way,” continues Charlotte. She pauses for a moment before adding impetuously. “I ran, what was I thinking? I let her scare me away and I hurt Val.” She shakes her head and I have the feeling that though she is speaking out loud, she is talking more to herself than me.
“And then I hid.” Her voice is bitter. “And when Val came I wouldn’t see him. All he wanted to do was talk to me, to try and understand, to make things right, but I wouldn’t give him the chance. All I could think about was myself, how I felt, how hurt I was, how h
ard it was for me. I never even considered what he was going through. I told myself that I loved him will all my heart and yet I didn’t give him a thought; I just left him hanging. There I was wallowing in self pity, and the whole time I was short changing Val!” She turns to me suddenly demanding. “You know?”
After a small pause I answer with the only words that I know to be true, they are all that I can give her that will be of help.
“Love is longsuffering and kind, love is not jealous, it does not brag, does not get puffed up, does not behave indecently, does not look for its own interests, it does not become provoked, it does not keep account of the injury. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things.” I give her a smile before ending softly. “Love never fails.”
Charlotte looks at me with awed eyes.
“Wow… that’s so deep!”
For a second I stare at her, torn between incredulous amusement and disbelief as I realise that she believes the words to be my own wisdom.
“It’s from the Bible,” I tell her. “I like it because it reminds me what love should be like, could be like, if you’re willing to put in the effort.”
We have arrived outside the pavilion at this point and Charlotte takes my hand, halting my progress up the steps.
“What’s your name?”
“Deeta Richards.”
“Deeta, would you wait with me? I’m not sure if I can face it alone.” Charlotte’s voice is nervous and I hear a sudden almost hysterical undertone.
“You can wait with us.” I smile, slipping my hand through hers and leading her up the steps.
“Who’s us?”
“My parents, and my sisters Jan and Clare, our friends Keya and Mari, Jennet, Fay, Tina, and the children. I promise they don’t bite!”
She relaxes and smiles a little as we enter the crowded pavilion.