North Star

'We're both older,' I said.

'You may be,' she said tartly. 'I'm just the same.' She slipped the coat off and threw it carelessly on the bed, her movements as sensual as they had always been, and the little pale blue dress very effective in revealing the slim boyish shape of her body, the small firm breasts.

'What do you want, Fiona?'

She turned, her voice low as she said, 'What do you think?' And she came slowly towards me, her lips parted, the white teeth showing and her hands held out to me. 'We can talk later.' I saw it in her face then. She really did want me and I was shocked. After almost six years. She came close, her body touching mine, her hands moving.

'Stop it,' I said.

'Why should I?' Her face was lifted to mine, her eyes staring up at me, irises and pupils merged to form dark pools, and she whispered, 'My poor Mike. You're starved.'

I took hold of her arms, pulling them away, and pushed her down on to the only chair. 'Now stop it,' I said. 'Just sit there and control yourself and tell me why you're here.'

'You fool!' she said softly. 'You stupid fool!' And suddenly she burst into tears. 'They'll get you. You know they'll get you.'

'Who will?'

'They — they. You don't expect names, do you?'

'How long since you were in Ireland?'

'I've never been involved with the IRA.'

'Who then?'

'CFJ.' And she spelt it out for me — Community for Freedom and Justice.

'What is it — Leninist, Trotskyist, Maoist? Another of those splinter groups operating under the IS umbrella?'

She shook her head, tears in her eyes as she stared up at me. 'I came to warn you.'

'About what? Who sent you?'

'Nobody. You know I went all the way up to those islands, the Shetlands, looking for you.'

'So I gathered.'

'She wrote to you, did she? She said she would.' The tears were drying on her cheeks and I sensed another change of mood coming. She smiled. 'What's she like, that woman?' She stared at me, then burst out laughing. 'Don't tell me you're running her trawler on the basis of pure altruism.'

'It's a business arrangement,' I said. 'Now please explain-'

'A business arrangement!' She giggled. 'And me thinking it's in love with her you are because why else should a man spend weeks at sea if not to build up enough steam to close his eyes and make an image of beauty out of a big, blonde, blowsy lump of a girl, her fat buttocks strapped into patched denims, her big bosom encased in Shetland wool-'

I slapped her then, not hard, but enough to stop the spate of words. She gazed at me, wide-eyed. 'You are in love with her.'

'Would it matter to you, after all this time?'

'It might.'

I shook my head. 'We're finished. You knew that, so why did you go to Shetland? Who sent you?' She didn't answer and I reached down to her bag, which was lying on the bed beside her coat. She tried to take it from me, but I pushed her away, shaking the contents out on to the coverlet.

'What are you doing?' Her voice was high, a little wild.

There were no instructions, nothing in writing. But she had money. Five ten pound notes and some ones. 'Where did you get these?'

'My job.'

'What is your job?'

She turned away. 'None of your business.'

I caught her by the shoulders and swung her round so that we were face to face. 'Somebody paid your fare to Shetland. Paid you to come down here. Who?' She stared at me, wooden-faced. 'Was it a man called Stevens?'

'I don't know any Stevens.'

I described him to her and I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. But she wouldn't admit it. 'Let me go. You're hurting.'

'How long were you in Ireland?'

'It's my own country.'

'Were you in Ulster?' I caught hold of both her shoulders, shaking her. 'Is that where you met him?'

But she only shook her head.

'What's his real name?'

'I don't know. I don't know who you mean. I came because you were in trouble and behaving stupidly. What's it matter that a man's house was burned down. The insurance company pays. It had to be burned. A warning. Men like that, men who stand in the way of progress — you can't reason with them. You have to force them to see sense.' She pulled my hands from her shoulders, holding them tightly. 'You must understand, Mike. It's like Ireland. Nobody listens to reason until you make them. Stormont, the "B" Specials, all the everlasting persecution of Catholics… Nobody likes bombs, but without bombs nothing would have changed.'

'And a lot of innocent people would still be alive.' All the old arguments that had bust up our marriage. Then it had been wildcat strikes and pickets using force; now it was bombs.

'If the Cause is right-'

'Oh yes, I know — the end justifies the means. Even if the whole fabric of society is destroyed, and the people with it.'

She began to cry again. 'Can't I make you understand? Don't I mean anything to you any more?' Her grip on my hands tightened, her fingers interlaced with mine. 'Please, Mike — don't do it. For your sake. For mine.'

'Do what?'

'Don't shop those boys. They did their duty. That's all. You're a witness for the prosecution tomorrow. All you have to say is that it was too dark to be certain who did it. It doesn't matter what you told that lawyer man this afternoon. Tomorrow, when you're in the witness box-'

'How do you know I saw Hall?'

'They had the offices watched. Hall came back from lunch sharp at two. You were there a little before. You left about three-thirty. They're convinced-'

'Who's they?'

She stared at me. 'The Community, the organization, the militants if you like. What's it matter who they are? They're organized. They know what they want and how to get it. I don't have to tell you that, surely. And they stick by their own people. You shop those boys tomorrow and they'll nail you.'

'Scunton and his crowd?'

She shrugged. 'I'm just warning you, that's all. They thought it was your doing when those boys were arrested, that you'd shopped them. That's why I went to the Shetlands. Oh yes, you're right — my fare was paid, all expenses. I was to talk you into a more sensible view of things. It never occurred to me you wouldn't be coming ashore, that the Petersen girl…' She let go my hands, turning quickly away and starting to gather up the contents of her bag. When she had put them all back, she got into her coat. 'Well, that's it, Mike. I've done what I promised. I've warned you.'

'Who did you promise?'

'Myself.' She smiled a little sadly. 'Chiefly myself… I know we argued a lot, and fought. But it was good while it lasted. At least it was for me. Wasn't it for you? She stared up at me, a wistful look. 'Wasn't it, Mike?' And when I didn't say anything, she gave a snort. 'You've changed. A sea change, my God! And I loved you. I loved you, you fool.' And with sudden violence she shouted at me, 'Go on. Shop them. I'll be there in court to see you do it. So will others. Shop them, you bastard, and see what happens.' She turned so abruptly that the skirt of her coat swirled and I watched her storm out. The door banged behind her.

I sat down on the bed, the room suddenly empty and nothing to do but think about tomorrow with the smell of her scent lingering and her words of warning still in my ears.

CHAPTER THREE

The Guildhall was in Alfred Gelder Street and when I arrived there a crowd of about a dozen had gathered around the entrance, mostly students by the look of them. Somebody called out 'That's him' and they surged round me. I don't recall what they said, only their hostility. It was an unpleasant experience and the uniformed constable on duty had to clear a way for me.

The courts were on the ground floor and the witnesses in all the day's cases waited in the corridor. Time passed slowly. Occasionally, as police went in and witnesses were called, the door to the crown court momentarily opened and we caught a fleeting glimpse of the dark-panelled interior.