The Trespass(93)

“Are you really going to be my mummy from now on?” Natasha asked.

“We’ll have such fun,” Ruth replied. “There is so much to see.”

Natasha looked doubtful. “But I miss my house and my friends, and –”

Ruth bent low and gripped the girl’s arms. “All that is past. This is your home now.”

“You’re hurting me.” Natasha began to cry. “My daddy will be cross with you. He never hurts me. Neither does my mummy. You’re not my mummy.” She tore herself away and flung herself onto the bed. “I hate it here.”

Ruth leaned over and touched the girl’s head lightly. “I’m sorry, Natasha. I just want you to be happy.”

She would make her happy.

Natasha’s face was buried in the pillow. “I want my daddy. He’ll come and get me soon.”

Ruth sat next to the girl and folded her hands in her lap. She felt distracted, as if some vital instruction had passed her by. When Natasha’s sobs had subsided she hugged her tightly. “Yes, child. He will come. He will come soon.”





Chapter 32





“Okay, Mr Dracup. Journey’s end. For now.” Potzner held the door and Dracup stepped onto the tarmac. Around him he was aware of the bulky shapes of aircraft and the transient movements of US personnel tending to the myriad jobs of an operational base. Huge golf-ball-shaped radomes studded the airfield perimeter, bonding a veneer of science fiction to Dracup’s embattled thought processes. Potzner ushered him quickly across the concrete apron to a squat perimeter building, within which nestled a warren of open-plan activity. He felt like an intruder, a feeling compounded by the curious stares he attracted as they made their way across the operations floor. A queue was forming around a white-aproned sandwich lady, through which Potzner shouldered his way without apology. Dracup closed his ears to the expletives and followed the American as he negotiated the maze with practiced ease, nodding briskly to a familiar face here and there until they entered a door simply marked ‘Intelligence Officer’.

Sitting on a corner of the single desk was Farrell, who raised a hand in half-salute then let it drop back to his side with a curt nod to Dracup. He looks worried. Dracup caught the anxious glance that passed between Farrell and the man behind the desk, who had stood up to greet the newcomers.

“Colonel Gembala – this is Professor Dracup.” Farrell performed the introductions. “He has the information we need.”

Gembala extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Professor. I’ve heard about your solo performance. You’ll be taking a back seat from this point on.”

“Has Fish arrived?” Potzner demanded. Farrell opened his mouth to reply but Potzner cut him off. “If not, why the hell not?”

Gembala walked round the desk and patted Potzner on the shoulder. “He’ll be here in ten, Jim. Take it easy.” The voice was firm but rang with a conciliatory note. Dracup watched with interest. They’re handling him with kid gloves.

Potzner flicked his Zippo and lit a Marlboro. He blew smoke and held out his hand to Dracup. “May I?”

Dracup took the flash card from his pocket and placed it in the American’s outstretched palm. Potzner jammed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and held up the card between his thumb and forefinger. “You went through a lot for this, Professor.” The sardonic smile was back in place. “The world will be grateful.” Potzner addressed Gembala. “Is everything ready for us, Colonel?”

“Fuelled and waiting on your word,” Gembala replied.

“Then we just need Fish.” Potzner inhaled smoke and blew a thin stream towards Farrell, who waved a practiced hand in front of his face.

The desk phone rang. “That’ll be him.” Potzner stubbed the cigarette out on the corner of the waste paper basket. “Let’s go.”





They assembled in a larger room Dracup guessed was used for briefings. There was a projector and laptop set up for presentations as well as seating for around fifty bodies. A small, nervous-looking man entered the room from a side door and approached with an expression of pained excitement.

“Okay Fish, let’s roll the slide show.” Potzner handed him Dracup’s flash card.

“Right. If you gentlemen will just give us a few minutes –” Fish indicated several other new arrivals who were engaged in animated conversation. One of them was fiddling with the laptop. A blank yellow square appeared on the screen, shrinking in size as the technician focused the lens. Familiar text appeared:





‘From holy resting place to rest upon the water –