Friday hung over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. Davy packed for his trip to Spain while Doris and Bert set off to the local pub, leaving Angie and Davy alone.
Davy came into the lounge and sat alongside Angie. She smiled, nestled her body into his; he wrapped his arms around her.
Angie knew he must leave. More importantly, how could she make her way to Spain? Somehow, Davy must convince William she would be of use.
They went to bed and made love as if it were the first and last time. There was a ferocity combined with tenderness in every action. Neither wanted the night to end. Angie attempted to hide her feelings, but as she clung to him, tears tumbled over her cheeks and onto his chest. Sleep was the enemy.
Despite this, the warmth of their embrace let them succumb. The morning light filtered through the curtains, waking Angie.
In less than an hour, he was saying goodbye to Angie's parents. Doris, with tears in her eyes, hugged and told him to be careful. Bert shook Davy's hand firmly, slapped him on the back and went to his wife.
Davy drove to the airport. Angie was not one for long goodbyes, and they agreed he would stop at the departure drop-off point, get out, and she would drive away.
***.
While the Airbus 320 circled the Rock, Davy's mind went back to the days when he was a sailor. He had spent many a night with his shipmates wandering up and down Main Street. Those days were long gone. He did wonder where the future might take him.
The aircraft touched the blackened runway, bounced twice, landed and taxied to the terminal. Kent's top-of-the-range BMW and driver was waiting. In less than an hour, he found himself in the same house as the man he wanted to crush and shaking his hand.
"Welcome, Davy. Good flight? My driver will take your bags to your room. Come, have a drink, relax, and treat my home as if it were your own."
Davy followed him out and onto the terrace. Looking at William, he asked, "Why was I removed from a successful operation? Did I do something wrong?
William offered him a cold beer. They seated themselves on heavy wooden chairs opposite one another around a large blue granite table. Williams gaze was severe and piercing. "The last time you were here, we discussed an idea. I want you to be in charge and follow it through to delivery. You know the organisation could make more than one-hundred-million pounds. You've done nothing wrong. On the contrary, your previous idea has made us both better off, but this one I call my retirement fund."
Davy knew if it went wrong, he was a cow in an abattoir waiting in a line to die. If he succeeded, he would give Kent enough money to vanish forever. Ronald Harman-Smith wanted this man. He said nothing and drank his beer.
William studied him. "You're quiet. I thought you'd be pleased?"
Easing himself back into the chair, he said, "I'm busy thinking of the trust you've placed in me. I wonder if I'm ready?"
"You surprise me. But when you talk to my friends, you'll find your plans are coming together. Anyway, we have a dinner date on my yacht with some people who'll be pleased to discuss the details of this operation. Once you get into it, you'll be okay. Now, go and have a shower, wear something casual, and be here at seven."
"Oh, there's one thing. I promised my girlfriend. I'd phone her every day if that's acceptable to you?"
"I said, make this your home. Ring her as many times as you like, but never discuss business. You never know, even here, who might be listening."
