Date: Sat, 28 Jul 2012 01:49:50 +0200 From: Amy Redek Subject: Farrell. Chapters 5 & 6 Chapter Five I caught an early train from London and at my station, took a taxi and had it drop me off at the pub where it was easy for him to turn the car round for his return journey. I just had time for a pint before the afternoon closure, getting to hear all the local news that only took ten minutes to tell. Of course Nick's murder still being the top priority news and would be so for quite some time to come I realised. But I did learn that a car had been parked in the pub's car park for quite some time since fairly early that morning and that I hadn't spotted it because of the drayman's vehicle blocking it from my view when he was making his delivery. Dave, the landlord, saying how he had told the police when he was questioned about strangers in Toy Town, of the two men driving off without so much as stopping for a drink. I might as well have asked that stupid parrot he had in the bar for a description of these men and would have most probably got a better answer than what he could give me. Thanking him for the drink, I then went next door to our shop, somewhat dingy inside, noting that the windows could do with a good clean and then maybe it would be a bit more lighter inside. Mrs. Morgan was there inside, a tired old woman of at least sixty years of age. She was a widow now, her husband having whisked her away from Wales to settle down here but died and left her to look after this little shop on her own. After a polite hello and discussion on her health and of that terrible event on the cliffs did we get down to the purpose of my visit to her humble establishment. To save time, I wrote down a list of supplies that I wanted and said that I would take the milk with me and would come back just before she closed to pick up the rest. `No bother to yourself Mr. Farrell,' she replied. `My niece is here and will bring it down when I get's it ready,' she smiled. I thanked her and gave her twenty pounds and said to hold the change for when I came in the next time. I left with a carton of milk and walked down Meadows Lane to my cottage which was under threat now as was my own life. I loved the place having lived there now for four years and I was damned if someone was going to drive me out of it. I noted that the stables had delivered six bags of manure and I would deal with that after a nice cup of tea. So half an hour later, having had a cup and getting changed, dragged the bags round to the back and started to see to that part of the garden first. It must have been close to seven o'clock and what with the low clouds, the light had started to fade from the sky when I straightened up and stretched my back. The female voice startled me in that peaceful idyllic setting, and I turned round. `I brought down your groceries Mr. Farrell. I banged on the front door and, well came round here,' said this lovely young woman holding a loaded box. I stuck my fork into the earth and went down towards her, noting that she was quite pretty, aged about twenty four, light brown hair and, when I got closer, light blue to green eyes. Her clothes were more of a social kind than countrified, a white blouse that looked nicely filled was tucked into a cream coloured skirt. Nicely shaped slender legs and noted that she wasn't wearing stockings with her flat heeled shoes of the same colour. `Here, let me take that,' I said, reaching out for the box. `Not with those dirty hands,' she smiled, turning away slightly. `I'll bring them in while you wash,' she said, turning to the open doorway and going inside. Nice looking bum too I thought as I followed her inside the kitchen, turning on the light before going to the sink and turning on the tap. She placed the box on the table and turned to watch me. `It's all there except the tomato ketchup. Ugh. How can you eat that stuff?' she said with her lilting Welsh accent. `I only use it to add to my cooking. It's a bit softer than using tomato puree,' was all that I managed to say before one glass pane of the window shattered. I was halfway across the kitchen before I heard the report of the gun and took this young girl in a half rugby tackle to take us both crashing to the floor as a second pane shattered and the ceiling lamp exploded in a shower of glass. I must say it was a soft landing for me with her being underneath, but not for her as her breath came out in one great whoosh as my weight expelled it from her body. I was panting in the half gloom as I felt her chest heave as she tried to take in air to breathe. `Stay still,' I said somewhat too fiercely, but rolled off her as I suddenly felt myself begin to rise with having a soft body of a woman beneath me. I'm not a monk and not having any relations with a woman for some years was an unsettling experience there on my own kitchen floor. Whether she felt it, I don't know because I carried on rolling across the floor to reach up under the table when I had a gun taped. It was fully loaded and had been carefully oiled and knew that I felt much more comfortable with it in my hand. I strained my ears for any other outside noise and then asked her what her name was in a soft whisper. `Mary,' came the same soft voice, `Mary O'Sullivan.' `Well Mary O'Sullivan. Keep down and away from the window. Don't be frightened, but I've got to leave you here. I'll be back in a few minutes.' I heard her whispered protestations as I scuttled across the floor and into the parlour. Then I was up and out of the front door in a flash, running down out into the lane and down to the pebbled beach. I'd surmised that the shots had come from a sniper's rifle and that the only place he could have been was on the little hill between the two lanes, so I was racing along the lower cliffs to get past there to come up behind them, if they were still there. I made my way up the slope keeping close to the ground and slowly made my way up the hill from the reverse slope. It was empty, but I found out where he, or she, had lain as the grass was still flattened out. I also found one of the cartridge cases that the would be killer had obviously been unable to find in their haste to get away from being unable to do the job properly. I put the spent casing in my pocket and then rolled over the top of the hill so as not to be silhouetted against the skyline before getting up and running down to my back garden. `Mary. Mary O'Sullivan? Are you still in there and okay?' I called out in a low voice as I approached the open back door. `Yes, and I'm frightened,' came the tremulous reply, but I still erred on the side of caution and went round to the front of the cottage. The front door was still open and I slid inside and went down onto my stomach and wormed my way across the parlour until I could put my head round the lower half of the door that led into the kitchen. With my eyes becoming accustomed to the gloom, could see that she was alone in the kitchen and cowering in the corner by the range. I then got up and went over and helped her up and she clung to me, crushing those lovely breasts up against my chest and began to cry. `Why was somebody trying to kill us?' she sobbed, her tears beginning to make my shirt wet. `Not you Mary O'Sullivan, not you, but me.' I said softly, liking the feel of this young female holding me, feeling myself becoming aroused again. `But why?' she countered. `That I don't know,' I said, getting myself disentangled from her arms before she could really feel how her body had affected me and sitting her down in a chair. `But they won't try again tonight. They've gone.' `You were gone so long I thought they might have killed you and then come after me,' she continued, her cries now slowing down to the odd sob and hiccup. `They're not after you. Rest assured on that fact. It's me they are after.' `But why?' she asked, almost going off into a wail again. `I don't know,' I said again, kneeling down and taking her hand in mine and began to rub it. `But they will not try again tonight, believe me, I know. Maybe tomorrow, the day after or next month, I don't know, but I will find out. Now you've been very badly shaken up, would you like a drink?' `Oh yes please!' So I got up and went into the parlour and fixed her a strong vodka and tonic while I had a small one, I might still need my wits in spite of what I told her. I gave her the drink of which she almost finished in one gulp as I fished out a lantern from one of the cupboards and primed it before I lit it. I then placed it near the window after pulling the curtains closed so that we would not be silhouetted by its light. Her face was white from the strain of the past half hour and so I refreshed her glass but refrained myself from having another. `Tell you what,' I said, being all jovial now as I started to unpack the box of groceries that she had brought down. `How about helping me eat something from this box of goodies?' `I don't think I could eat anything now,' she said, still looking a little bit scared. `Well I could eat a horse after that bit of excitement,' I said. `How could you after somebody has just tried to kill you?' she cried as I got out a couple of pans from the cupboard and put them on the stove. `I'm still alive,' I said, waving a small frying pan at her, `and that's why I'm hungry,' banging the pan down to emphasis the point. `Let me do it then,' she said with a sniff as she got up from the chair. `Let me get the condemned man his last meal,' moving across to me at the stove. `It's the least I can do for him saving my life,' she said with a tired smile. `That's better. You're smiling again, but condemned? Never! Okay. So what shall we have?' `I'll cook you a Welsh omelette and then you'll never want any other omelette again.' `Is it that bad?' I asked with a smile. `Cretin!' she shouted, coming at me with the frying pan. `I meant that it will spoil you for any other kind of omelette you might ever eat again.' `I didn't mean it that way,' I cried as I stood up to fend off this wielded frying pan, catching her wrist and bringing her arm down as my other arm went round her. Why I kissed her there, then, at that point, I don't know, but she melted straight into my arms and returned my kiss with some passion. `Oh you!' she then pushed me away, `you're getting me all confused!' and I liked the way she blushed as she turned away to go back to the stove. I didn't say anything but sat down in the chair and wondered at that kiss. How sweet it tasted and that it had come in the heat of the moment and had been spontaneous and yet we had both, I think, responded to it. Well I did, that's why I had to sit down so that she wouldn`t see that I had an erection inside of my trousers. It's very difficult to tell when a woman is aroused like you can with a man. But I think it was the blushing of her cheeks that told me she had liked the brief encounter and I wasn't sure if she would like it again for I damn well knew that I did. While she bothered at the stove, I had to stay sitting down till I felt that my erection had subsided somewhat before getting up and made a quick and simple salad and cut and buttered some bread as well as opening a bottle of wine. The omelette was delicious and I can honestly say that it was the best I have ever tasted. With the salad and wine, it was a lovely way to finish off an evening, well almost, considering the start that we'd had. I won't go into details now, but probably will later, but she insisted on washing up the dirty dishes before I escorted her back up the lane and depositing her at the shop door where she was staying with her aunt. I took a chance, and it was worth it, because I thanked her for a wonderful meal, apologising for the start as I took her in my arms and kissed her. Once again having those lovely breasts crushed up against my chest and, rather reluctantly, released her so that she wouldn't feel that I was once again getting an erection at this bodily contact. I sailed down the lane with the memory of her responding to my kiss and the almost promise that there might be more to come in the future. This being an almost saying that if I lived that long, but I didn't care. For the first time in my life I felt that I was in love and it would be to hell with the rest of the world if I couldn't take this romance a bit further. I got undressed in my bedroom and got into bed and laid on my back as I thought of Mary, at the way she had returned my kisses. The feel of her breasts up against my chest and sure that she had felt my erection that had developed as I held her close to me. As hard as it was now in my hand and I gave out a groan as I slowly began to masturbate. I tried to picture her without any clothes on and that she was smiling at me and came towards me, her tits leading the way and that it was her that was now holding my cock. I tried then to think of her going down onto her knees and taking me into my mouth and...and that's when I came, shooting my load for it to splash all over my stomach and hand. It relieved the ache within my balls but not the one in my heart as I had to get up to clean myself off before getting back into bed to fall asleep dreaming of her. Next morning, I went over the hill and down to Nick's cottage and as soon as I entered, knew that somebody else had been in there. It wasn't trashed, but I knew from previous visits that the place had been searched, turned over by a professional as it were. They were only minute details, but it was what I was trained at and knew what to look for and knew that I was good at my job. I knew that as I got older I would have to give up being an active agent in the field, if I lived that long though the present prospects didn't auger well for me; I would take over a training aspect, though I would rather have had the Arabian desk. Now I knew that Jackson wasn't far off retirement and that he was training his successor to take over, who by chance, happened to be the man at the desk that I was coveting. It was a slim chance because usually when a desk became vacant, it went to the field officer of that region and us field men going to the back of the queue, though with my fluent command of many of the Arabian dialects, thought I might have a chance. Be that as it may, I went back over the hill to my cottage only to find D.I. Loomis and D.C. Dawkins sitting at my kitchen table. `Please forgive the intrusion Mr. Farrell,' said Loomis getting up and offering to shake hands, `but we thought you'd like to know a bit more about what happened a little while ago in respect of the other Mr. Farrell.' I shook his hand and acknowledged the nod from Dawkins as Loomis sat back down and me taking another chair. `On making our enquiries we have reason to believe that the perpetrators on the attack on Mr. Farrell were of foreign extraction. They'd parked their car in the local public house's car park to do their business before leaving. Also that postman had been asked about where Mr. Farrell lived and he, being helpful had told them. We also found a letter in his coat that was actually addressed to you, but he somehow had it in his pocket,' which he then produced and handed it to me. I took it and put it to one side. `We have opened it I'm afraid. It might have held some clue as to why he was killed. It didn't tell us anything, but, it appears that your postman does sometimes get confused when it comes to delivering the letters to a Mr. Farrell. Do you think that they might have picked on the wrong man?' `Don't be ridiculous,' I said promptly and emphatically, hoping that they would go away from that line. `Oh I don't think so,' he replied. `You work for a certain room number, er...' `Forty two,' supplied Dawkins. `Yes, of the Foreign Office. Well we might be country bumkins to those from London, but we can still add two and two otherwise we would be out of a job. Now there's not a lot we can do Mr. Farrell in respect of safeguarding your life, but I would say that you should take extreme caution in the future.' If you only but knew that they had tried again only last night was my thought then, but I didn't say anything. D.I. Loomis wasn't stupid either. Though I'd cleaned away the glass from the smashed panes of glass and of the ceiling light, it was still a glaring obviousness that something else had happened. Give him his due, he could see that I noticed that he had seen these small things and awaited my comment, but as I didn't give any, he gave a shrug to his shoulders and stood up. `Take care Mr Farrell. If we can be of help, do not hesitate to call us,' he said as he shook my hand before leaving. That was my first surprise visit of the morning. The second one was when Mary O'Sullivan came knocking at my door. `I saw the car with two men pull out from the lane and guessed they were the police Mr Farrell. So I came down to find out what you told them about last night,' she said as she hovered in the doorway. `Come in Mary and remember I told you last night that my name is Michael, or just plain Farrell. I was just about to make some lunch, would you care for some? I was only going to do a salad and cheese.' `That would be lovely,' she said, coming into the cottage. `Let me give you a hand. No. Tell you what. I'll do the salad and you can open a bottle of wine.' She was very bright and breezy compared to the tremulous girl of last night. I noted that her blouse was different and was sure that I could see her nipples pressing against the front and when she turned round couldn't see any outline of a bra strap across her back. She was wearing a white skirt this day, no stockings again, which made me wonder if she was wearing panties or not, and a pair of sandals instead of shoes. Also, she had put on a little make-up. Not a lot, but more just a hint to make her eyes seem a little larger, and lovely eyes they were. She got the salad things out of the fridge and passed me a bottle of white wine from it to open. `Well what did they say about last night then?' she asked as she washed a tomato prior to cutting it. `Nothing. I didn't tell them,' I replied, popping the cork and poured out two glasses of the wine. `What! We're shot at and nearly get killed and you didn't tell them? Then why were they here?' she asked somewhat hotly, accepting the glass of wine that I handed to her and taking a sip. `They came to tell me of what they had learned in respect of the killing of Nicholas Farrell,' I answered. `Mistaken identity! Last night proves that, I think.' Bright girl. `It would appear so and I think that they also noticed the broken panes and smashed lamp. But as I didn't say anything, neither did they, but I think that is the conclusion that they have come to also.' `Can you cut and butter some bread, I'm nearly finished here,' she asked going off on a tangent. This I did and we soon sat down to our light lunch. `Now tell me more,' she said as she began to eat. `No. Tell me about yourself first.' `Well that won't take long. I'm twenty four years of age and not very beautiful, and, oh come on! You're supposed to interrupt and say that I am!' she said with a grin. `Oh, I'm sorry,' I said, coughing on the wine I had hastily gulped. `Yes, you are wrong to say that you are not beautiful. Please accept my apologies,' I said grinning back at her, liking her sense of humour. `Okay,' somewhat mollified. `My father was Irish, hence the O'Sullivan and my mother Welsh. Glynis Jones and Megan Morgan being her sister, my aunt who runs the shop. I've just finished university and am having a year off for practical study before taking my Masters in Psychology. That's it, that's me. Oh, I've no other brothers or sisters either and have been spoilt rotten.' The last said with another grin that made me laugh because she had taken too much of a mouthful just before and she had a blob of mayonnaise stuck above her upper lip. I felt a sudden urge to lean across the table and lick it off for her but restrained myself and pointed it out. The tip of her tongue was so pink as it came out between her teeth to lick at it that I felt tremors run through my body at the lascivious way she looked at me as she did so, and wondered if I could get the tip of that tongue to move as it had, over the head of my cock. `Now tell me about yourself.' `I told you most of it last night,' I protested. `But I had other things on my mind, like gunshots, wounding and maybe killing, so remind me.' I gave a sigh and recounted what I had once previously said to her. `I come from a middle class family just outside of London. My mother died when I was thirteen after a long illness that took its toll of my father. That he loved her was painful to me to see him pine away and die two and half years later. I had a good education and learned French and German at school and came out top in both languages. It was during my last year at school that we had an Arabian boy there and he got me interested in Arabic and so I took to learning that one too. I also took an interest in the Middle East and learned an awful lot with his help as to the customs and beliefs of his country. I think I know as much of the Koran as I do of the Bible now. Anyway, after the death of my father, I'd finished school, I decided to join the Army.' We'd practically finished our meal here and the wine bottle was empty, so I opened another before continuing. `The recruiting sergeant didn't want to know as I couldn't get my parents to sign the form. What about your guardian, he asked of me after producing the death certificates of my mother and father. You be my guardian then, I said to him and you can then sign the form for me. Against all the rules and regulations and with a twinkle in his eye did just that and signed the form for me. So at not quite sixteen, I joined the army in the boy's division. I did well and was made up to sergeant before I was eighteen when I then transferred into the regular army, but had to drop back to corporal. Within three months I was a sergeant again and kept breaking the one rule that all soldiers are taught when they join. Never volunteer! I volunteered for everything, being it catering, guard duty whatever. It didn't do me any harm and it got me noticed. It was when we were doing a tour of duty in Germany that they really found out that I was fluent in that language and kept getting shifted from post to post to help out in the translations. It also came out about my knowing French and Arabic that I got pulled out and sent to the War Office in London. There I had to sign the Official Secrets Act and it has since led me up to where I am now. More than that, I cannot tell you.' What I did not, or could not say was that I then began to be sent undercover to infiltrate the illegal immigration system that was operating and pose as a prospective immigrant myself. I could speak the gutter language and just after a few hours in the sun, looked just the same colour as the rest of them. I paid my money, provided by the British Government and would get shipped to England with a load of other would be hopefuls that we would get visas. My job was to ascertain who were genuine and who were or looked to be potential terrorists. I got many sent back and only came to the attention of Jackson after I had killed two of them. He pulled me out of that system to put me into his and gave me to the care of Lewis. He took me through all the nuances of the Arabian desk and became my field officer when I was sent out to become an assassin. That was four years ago and now I was in a situation where somebody wanted me dead and I was going to do my damndest to stay alive until I knew who it was. But this was what I couldn't tell this Mary O'Sullivan and we'd now finished lunch and the second bottle of wine and so she made some coffee which we took into the parlour and sat on the settee to drink. Now I'm blaming the wine and the fact that I had this beautiful woman sitting next to me that made me act as I did. With the coffee finished and we sat there in our own thoughts, mine being those that I had in bed the night before, that I leaned over and took her into my arms and kissed her. She too must take some blame because she responded to my advances and before we knew it, I had her blouse open and had my hand on a tit, rubbing it and making the nipple rise up as hard as a nut. Her hands had undone the buttons of my shirt and her hands were moving over my back and chest, lightly scratching me with her nails as she gave out a low moan at what I was doing. For I had now moved down a little to not only kiss those lovely breasts and nibble on the nipples, but to also get my rampant cock into a more comfortable position. It was when I was trying to get her skirt off of her body, she lifted herself up to help and it was with this movement of hers that made us both roll off the settee and onto the rug on the floor. We both gurgled at this and I just loved the way her breasts moved at this and she kept the grin on her face as I managed to get her skirt off and found that she wasn't wearing any panties after all. I had to stand up to get my trousers off as she sat up and took off her blouse. Her eyes didn't leave off looking at me and her smile got even wider when my erection sprang free from my trousers as they came down. I had to sit down on the settee for a moment to get them off from my feet, my erection really throbbing now at the prospect of putting it inside that beautiful body that was now spread out on the rug before me. I stood up, my cock swinging from side to side as I stepped in between her legs that she'd just opened for me and I went down onto my knees between them. The fact that I made a complete mess of our first coupling I could only put it down to the fact that I hadn't been with a woman for nearly four years and was just too eager. I had moved over her and it was when the head of my cock came in contact with her pubic hairs that I came. Shooting my seed all up her thigh and lower stomach. I gave out a cry of dismay for I was still moving my body down onto hers as I tried to stop my ejaculation as my stomach came down onto hers, squashing my still throbbing and spurting out cock between us. Mary wasn't a virgin and accepted my apologies at my over eagerness that I had made a mess between our two bodies and crooned as she held me and said that it was all right and it would be perfect a bit later on once I'd regained, or remade what I had just lost. And she was right for with her using not only her hand, but taking me into her mouth helped raise me up again. It was a wonderful sight to see her breasts swing about as she knelt between my legs and had those lovely lips clamped round the head of my prick as she sucked on me. It was an hour later from my first attempt that she deemed it was up hard enough for her to release me from that inner heat of her mouth for me to use it properly. So she moved and lay down beside me and I rolled over onto my side and kissed her first, not minding that those lips had been on my cock, for they were still nice to kiss. My cock was now up hard again and I got between her legs and looked down at my target and looked up to see her smile and with her arms open, I moved over on and entered both her body and arms. So we coupled and it resulted in us both having an experience that would be most memorable. She had sucked me into that heat of her body, her legs coming up by my sides as I stretched myself over her till I could go no further. I lifted myself up onto my elbows but still had the nipples of her breasts touching my chest as I began to move myself in and out of this wonderful woman beneath me. I was disappointed in myself by not being able to bring her to an orgasm this first time, but it was my fault for still being too keen to fuck her and came within a few minutes of being inside this darling woman. Dusk was falling when we, after a final kiss and grope, roused ourselves up and went upstairs and had a shower. I wish that the shower cubicle had been bigger for both of us to be inside at the same time, for I would just have loved to have had the pleasure of soaping her. As it was, all I could was help rub her down with a towel before having my shower. With that finished, I put on a dressing gown and went downstairs to find her looking slightly ridiculous in one of my oversized dressing gowns as she made us dinner. With this we had another two bottles of wine, red this time, and then went up to my bedroom where she stayed the night to try and compliment what had happened during the afternoon. We went into my bedroom and when inside, she turned to face me, a lovely smile on her face as we went into an embrace and kissed. We both moved at the same time to push the dressing gowns off each other's shoulders and they fell unheeded to the floor as we moved close together again. My erection getting squashed between us as we held each other tight. It only took a little push for her to fall back onto the bed, breaking the contact between us. Words were not needed for she said it all in the smile that she gave me as her arms opened as did her legs and I moved in between both of them. Sliding up into her again was heaven to me as her arms closed over round my shoulders. `Oh darling,' she breathed as she felt my hardness moving up inside her. I lay on her front and kissed her as my chest squashed her breasts before lifting myself up to start moving my hips as I began to fuck her. This time I was able to hold that little bit longer than before and soon had her thrashing about under me as I kept humping myself and came at the same time as she did. She gave out a little cry as I pulled out and lay down on my side next to her. Sated and happy at having this beautiful woman nestling in the crook of my arm with her free hand running up and down the sparse hairs of my chest, I asked what would her aunt think? `She won't know whether I'm in or out,' she said sleepily, `besides, I don't want to leave,' which made my heart leap. `Nor do I want you to go Mary O'Sullivan,' I said softly as I kissed her hair and began to stroke her naked breast. `I think I've fallen in love with you.' `I bet you say that to all the women,' she said and I could hear the smile in her voice. `The only other woman I've said that to was my mother, and I think she would have approved of you,' I said, still stroking her. `Oooh, don't stop talking. Just keeping saying how much you love me,' she crooned, so I did which resulted in us coming together again. Chapter Six Love or sex must have dulled my senses because I didn't even hear or feel her leave the bed the next morning. It was my sense of smell that woke me, the aroma of coffee being brewed what finally got me up. It was an alarming thought that I, or we, could have been taken that night and it made me resolve to myself that I mustn't be led along this path of false security. I wasn't out of danger by any means and I must keep my guard up at all times. This resolve almost disappeared when I got downstairs wearing my dressing gown to find her at the stove wearing one of my shirts with only one button done up. `Oh my God!' I said as I slumped down in a chair at the table seeing at how she was dressed and what I could see of her body. The lower cheeks of her pretty bum peeking out from the tail end of the shirt. `What a sight to greet a man first thing in the morning.' `What's wrong?' she asked looking slightly alarmed as she put down a coffee mug on the table beside me, one breast almost coming out to greet me. `Nothing. That's the problem,' I said as I caught her arm and pulled her down to sit on my lap, squashing the erection that I had gotten at seeing her like this. `You look absolutely gorgeous and desirable compared to how I feel,' I said, giving her a kiss, not failing to notice that her ample breasts were fully in my sights. `You might be a bit stubbly round the chin, but you look gorgeous too,' she said, kissing me again. `Now how about breakfast,' she asked sprightly as she got up from my lap, feeling, I think, that I had reacted to the closeness of her body. `Nothing would be better than to see you cook me a breakfast,' I replied, and it was nice as I said, to see her in my shirt prepare the breakfast and I counted myself a lucky man to have found such a treasure. But her beauty and the knowing pleasure of her body didn't prevent me from looking at my plate and devouring everything that had been placed upon it. `My darling Mary, that was the most wonderful breakfast I've ever had,' I said as I finished my second cup of coffee. `Oh Michael,' she exclaimed as she came and sat on my lap again. `That's the first time you've called me darling!' `No it isn't! I called you that last night, or was it in the afternoon?' I protested. `You didn't use the word!' she argued, wiggling her bottom on my lap which was most discomforting, `but let's not our first morning together start, or finish with an argument. I love you Michael Farrell and I hope that you love me as much as I have come to love you in these two short days.' `I think I fell in love with you when I first saw you holding that box of groceries,' I said giving her a kiss on the cheek, her not seeming to mind that I'd slipped my hand into the shirt and was fondling the tit that I'd found inside. `I think I did too in spite of the fact that your hands were covered with horse manure,' she smiled, turning her head down and kissing me on the lips. `Ugh! Go upstairs and shave or grow a beard for it scratches,' she said, getting up off my lap. `But there again, a moustache might tickle me in the right places,' she finished with a wicked grin. `You hussy,' I said as I smacked her bare bottom that was quite visible beneath the shirt she was wearing as I got up. I went upstairs and showered and shaved before getting dressed and going back downstairs again. Mary had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and looked more than desirable in my shirt than I would have thought possible. `Michael, you're in a suit!' she exclaimed as I took her into my arms and kissed her. `Yes my sweet. I've got to go to London. I made a mistake last night.' `Last night!' she exploded. `Last night!' and I could see that her breasts were quivering in what could have anger or rage. `Darling, darling let me explain,' trying to hold her still from the sudden anger that what I had said had aroused. `Not you, not you, but me. I let my guard down and could have been taken. Not just me, but you too! I love you and now I have to be doubly careful not only for myself but you also. Oh Mary O'Sullivan,' I said as I took her into my arms and held her very tight to my body, `I didn't think this could happen to me at this worst moment of my life when someone is trying to kill me. I love you and don't want anything ever to happen to you because of me. I've got to go to London to try and sort out who that person is and I want you to get back up to your aunt's and stay there. Do not! Do not stay here in the cottage. Believe me, it's the best you can do.' `When will you be back?' she asked, the tears that had begun to form when I first spoke were now running down her cheeks. `As soon as I can my darling, but do as I say and go back to your aunt's and stay there,' I said, kissing her wet cheeks, tasting the salt and had to fight to keep the tears back from my own eyes. `Now I've found you, I don't want to lose you.' My voice was now choked with emotion as we clung to each other in mutual support. We finally broke apart and she went and got dressed while I phoned for a taxi to meet me at the pub. `If you are planning on staying here for awhile,' I started as we went up the lane together. `Which I most definitely am,' she interrupted. `You had better see to having a few more supplies laid in at the cottage,' I said with a smile and gave her a kiss out of view of the shop. `I'll be back as soon as I can,' I promised, as our hands slowly parted and she went to the shop and I to the waiting taxi. I had to hang around the station for nearly an hour before the London train came in, and by the time I got to the London terminal it was evening. I took another taxi and had him drop me off at the corner of the road where Lewis lived. I wanted to keep a low profile so I thought I would spend the night at his place. There was no answer to the door bell so after ten seconds, I had the door open and was safely inside, there not being many locks that I couldn't open. I made myself a snack from his fridge and settled down to watch television till he came home which wasn't until after the pub's had closed. `What the fuck are you doing here?' was the greeting I got when he walked into his lounge to find me sitting there. `Why do you always greet me with the same words?' I countered, not bothering to get up. `I thought you might be pleased to see that I'm still in the land of the living.' Something made me stop from going any further. The less every one knew that another attempt had been made on my life, the better off I might be. `I thought I'd pop in to see what was happening to the rest of the world,' I said flippantly. `Bugger all,' was his reply as he went and got himself a drink. `So why are you here now?' he asked as he settled himself in a chair with his drink in his hand. `Well the first is, you don't mind if I doss down here for awhile? I don't want to advertise my presence in London and have another Telford problem.' `Telford!' he snorted. `I got one awful bollocking from Jackson over that. Do you know we tied up a quarter of the Met. Police force over that bomb scare. Fuck, did he ream me! You'll get the same when he sees you.' `That I expect when I go to the office tomorrow, but I'm asking about tonight? Can I doss down here?' `Of course you can. But you make your own breakfast.' `Fine, thanks. So if I can have a blanket, I'll do just that.' So he got me a couple of blankets and a pillow and I didn't have a bad night's sleep considering. Next morning I went to the office and spent nearly an hour at the Middle East desk, reading Arabic papers to keep up with the news in that part of the world before Jackson learned that I was in the building. Up to his office I went and got the expected bollocking over the Telford escapade. `Why?' was the only question he asked after the reaming out he gave me, and I went on to explain in answer to his question. He listened and then, grudgingly admitted that my theory that I was being set up sounded logical and that Telford had confirmed it. That I killed the man was bye the bye now. It had happened, much to both our regrets, because we might have been able to get something out of the man. `Well who are those you suspect and who are those you have ruled out?' Jackson asked of me. `Well I ruled you out first sir,' I said. `Well thank you for that, and what if I had been suspected?' `We wouldn't be talking now,' I said succinctly. `You've nothing to gain by having me put away. Likewise Lewis. He has had many chances to drop me in the shit in the field, but I'm still here. From there on, I think of everybody else as suspect.' `You can rule out Jane too,' he said absent mindedly as he looked as though he was deep in thought. Jane Merryweather was his secretary and knew more about everybody than anyone and I had to agree with this so I crossed her off my mental list. We both sat there for some time thinking our own thoughts, mine running through all the people who knew me in the building and came up with too many. Then I remembered the letter that Nick had in his pocket for me and was now in mine. Would that hold a clue? I quickly got it out and opened it from the envelope to find it was an internal memo saying that I was overdue for my yearly medical, so it wasn't because of that. I dropped it on the desk and Jackson picked it up and read it. `Hmm, well as you're here now. Jane?' he said into the phone when she answered hers. `I've got Farrell in here and he needs his physical. Can you get it fixed up please? Thank you.' He replaced the phone and we then ran over a few names to try and sort the wheat from the chaff without coming to any conclusions. The phone rang and he answered it and just grunted before replacing the receiver. `Two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, usual place,' he said to me. `So where are you staying for the night?' I hesitated for a moment before replying. `Lewis's place.' His eyebrows lifted. `I didn't know you knew where he lived.' `Neither did he,' I grinned, `Until I turned up the other day.' We talked a bit more before I went downstairs to where the desks were and saw Lewis at the International desk talking to Fergie whose desk it was. I told him of my appointment and asked if he didn't mind me staying another night on his sofa. `No problem,' he replied. `So what will you do all day till then?' `Catch up on the news over there,' indicating the Middle East desk. `Have my examination and then go home from there.' That was okay by him, and so I left him in his flat the next morning and went to the office and spent the morning reading all the latest news, noting that more trouble was brewing up again in Iran and Iraq. There must be something about the doctors of Harley Street, for every time I've gone for my physical there has been a different nurse on duty. They have all been young and attractive and I didn't mind the slightest in her being in the room with the doctor when I did finally strip off my last piece of clothing. I was passed fit and before I left the sumptuous office, she smiled at me and gave me her phone number. If I hadn't of just met Mary O'Sullivan, I might have stayed in London for a bit longer, but I was now eager to get back home. It was nearly nine o'clock when the taxi dropped me off outside the pub, but instead of going in, went and knocked on the closed door of the shop. It was several minutes before a light came on and the door was opened. It was a pleasure to see her face light up with that smile and came out and kissed me. `I've missed you,' she said in her lilting voice as she held me. `I've missed you too,' I replied, giving her another kiss. `Do you think you can slip out for a drink and...' `Yes,' she answered instantly. `Wait here, I'll just tell aunt that I'm going out.' She quickly went back into the shop and a few minutes later was back out with her coat on. She closed the door to the shop and it made me ask about her keys to get back in. `I won't need the keys,' she grinned wickedly at me. `Aunt will have the shop open by the time I get back.' I gave her a hug and we went into the pub and ordered a drink. It was Dave the landlord who served me with our second drink and then leaned on the bar so that he could speak softly to me. `You remember I told you about that car that was on the car park the other week?' I said that I did. `Well another strange car has been seen, but it didn't stop here. It was parked up outside your cottage for about an hour today.' `What time was this?' I asked, my heart thumping and all kinds of bells jangling inside my head. `Around lunch time. Old George,' a neighbour of mine, `came in late and told me, just before closing time.' `Did he see who it was?' `No. With his bad eyes he just said that it was a man he'd not seen before.' `Well thanks Dave,' I said as I then took our drinks back to where Mary was and sat down deep in thought. `Penny for them,' she said as she sipped at her gin and tonic. `They're not worth that much. I wish you'd brought the keys to the shop with you.' `Why?' `Because you're not coming down to the cottage tonight.' `Why?' her face taking on a strained look. `Somebody's been inside there today and I have a nasty suspicion that it's not a very safe place for you to visit.' `Oh Michael Farrell! I've been inside and been shot at and now you're telling me it's not a safe place. Well I'm coming down there with you whatever you say.' Her Irish blood was up and we sat there for at least ten minutes arguing but I eventually gave up on the promise that she would stay some distance away while I went inside to check it out. We finished our drinks and I borrowed a torch from Dave and we went down the lane to my cottage. I led her round the back in the dark and took her down to where the compost heap was and made her sit behind it. *