Lies And Consequences Collection

Chapter 12-2

“All of what I"ve just told you is written in this letter. Jack ordered me to give it to whoever he sent. I do not understand what this has to do with my family. I can only pray it has nothing.”

Not only was Richard"s world widening, so too was my own, but not apparently Fianna"s whose expression had not changed. It seemed her world had collapsed further than it had when on the plane.

* * *

“I"ve told you of me, Shaun, now how about you? Let"s do a spoof of Eamonn Andrews introducing "This Is Your Life" without the television cameras. Start with where were you born in real life.”

We were about two hours into our flight and I could see no reason to refuse. She had been open in her disclosure, so I followed suit with a description of my early life in Camberwell, London, then on to Oxford and my meeting with Trenchard. I concluded the brief biography with the night in Soho, but omitted any details of what Jack had told me. It was not enough for my fictional sister.

“There"s nothing about you in all that lot, just a matter of facts with no feelings, Shaun. Tell me of the girls you"ve loved and those that got away as well. Have there been many that ran out on you, or was it you who upped and ran leaving them begging for more, brother of mine?”

“Can"t remember any girls running away, Fianna. I"m much too debonair for runaway girls. No offence meant there, by the way.”

“None taken, brother, but I"ll screw up those cigarettes of yours and flush them down the toilet if you don"t give me more info.”

“I knew some girls at university, but not for any great length of time, I"d be too embarrassed to give details. Besides, I was too busy being a good student to chase after girls. I still want a Master"s before settling down.”

“Oh, I have a queer as a brother after all, do I?”

“Master"s degree, you i***t! It"s an educational qualification.”

“Ah! There was me thinking you too good looking to resist the cailíns in the world of study. No one catch your eye permanently up there in Oxford, Shaun? No legs pumping hard at the cycle pedals chasing after you, nor bosoms heaving as you disappeared over the horizon?”

I loved the somewhat risqué picture she painted of female students on their bicycles charging towards me. I wished that Fianna had been one of those leading the assault on my virtue, but sadly it was far from the truth. It was me doing all the chasing and more often than not getting exhausted without reward.

“I really did fancy one though. A very beautiful American girl name of Patricia. Patricia Ann Hickling. Came from rich parents, I believe. Far above my level in life.”

“You never struck me as one of the oppressed proletariat. Unpolished and a bit awkward yes, but handsome enough to overcome those childish ineptitudes. Were you never educated to rise above your position and send the towers of oppression collapsing to ground?”

“That"s a lot of big words for an Irish country girl. Most of them easily forgotten. Am I handsome enough for you to forget your s****l preferences and initiate me into the mile-high club? If so, I"m ready to take instructions, ma"am.”

“There"ll be no instructions from me, Shaun. Rough and parochial you are, me boy. Is that how your Patty girl saw you?”

“She was never my girl, although I did have ambitions in that direction.”

“You never even spoke to her, did you?”

“I spoke, but she never noticed me. Too busy with others, I suspect,” I replied regretfully.

“Did you share your lessons with her?”

“They were called lectures, not lessons. She was studying psychics and occasionally our studies overlapped in some small parts.”

“You missed out on carrying her satchel then. What a wonderful pair you would have made. Leaving out the sordid details, tell me what you would do if you had a second chance with Patty Ann, Shaun?”

“I"ve never spent much time pondering the unlikely and I"m not about to change that. You"re a dreamer, my girl. A very pretty one, but nonetheless a head in the clouds type. I haven"t said it before I know, but you have a wonderful name.”

“I told you I"m a goddess, Shaun. Goddesses have no need to dream on beds of clouds. They live on one. You should go and find one of your own one day.” She was smiling and so were those eyes of hers.

“Go on, tell me of your first real love?” I wanted those smiling eyes to remain.

Elsewhere there was concern showing on faces rather than smiles.

“Earlier today I asked archives to fetch me all we had on Sir Horace Butler and do you know how much information we have recorded under his name, Perkins?

“No, sir! I first came across that name when West disappeared from the Albany on Saturday. Never heard of him before that.”

“Not likely you"ll hear much of him in the near future either. There was nothing recorded on the card index. It had been completely sanitised. All information had been redacted other than one inscription; file closed by Royal decree.”

“What do you make of that, Perkins?”

“We"re not meant to know, sir.”

“Precisely! And what shall we do about that?”

“Get everyone we have on it straight away?”

“No, that won"t work. First we need a key. Get me an appointment at St James"s Palace within the hour, if not sooner.”