Kathy wondered if she should say hello to Brock before they left, but he was deep in conversation with Jennifer Grant and the others were keen to leave, so they joined the crowd milling around the cloakroom. Kathy found herself standing next to Kerrie, the manager of Grant’s office in Cockpit Lane, and they were chatting about the concert when the imposing figure of Hadden-Vane swept by.Stopped momentarily by the congestion,he half turned to them. Noticing the flounce of a blue silk handkerchief in his top pocket to match his tie, Kathy thought of Martin Connell’s story about the MP and the knickers. She smiled, then abruptly suppressed it as Hadden-Vane turned and looked straight at her.His eyes connected, then passed on to Kerrie and lit up. He leaned towards her in a little bow and said softly,‘Hello,Kerrie.Enjoy the show?’
She smiled back and he continued on his way. Seeing Kathy’s look of surprise, Kerrie, still smiling to herself, said,‘He’s an MP. Full of himself. Reckon they all are over there, don’t you?’
Their coats arrived and Kathy said goodbye and joined the others. They headed down the street for a curry at a place nearby that Lloyd recommended. They took their seats and while they waited for their drinks to arrive they talked about the concert. Lloyd queried the fact that they’d played so many different instruments. He seemed to think this was a bit flashy and disreputable until Tom suggested it was like being a pentathlete. Then Lloyd caught the look on Nicole’s face and changed the subject. ‘Your boss didn’t show up then, Kathy?’
‘Yes, he did eventually. He was talking to Grant’s wife when we left, otherwise I’d have introduced you.’
‘Pity, I’d have liked to have met the great man before he quits.’
Kathy was used to Lloyd playing the joker, and she assumed from his exaggeratedly innocent expression and the flicker of exasperation on Nicole’s face that he was having her on. Still, she took the bait and said,‘Quits?’
‘Sure, any day now is what I hear. Hasn’t Tom told you that he’s taking over?’
Now it was Tom rolling his eyes, as if this was an old joke that had outlived its use-by date.
‘No, I don’t think he mentioned that.’ ‘Really?’Lloyd frowned with puzzlement and concern.‘Well,
he’s told us all about it, hasn’t he, Nic?’
‘Shut up, Lloyd,’ Nicole answered, but Kathy noticed she didn’t actually deny it. Tom was looking uncomfortable.
‘Oh God, yes, all kinds of plans to streamline . . .’
There was an awkward pause while the Indian waiter brought their lagers.
‘No, well,’ Lloyd went on, ‘I’m probably jumping ahead. I’m sure he’ll consult with everybody before he puts the more draconian measures into practice.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially.‘It’s the timing that’s so perfect,Kathy.Cheers.’
‘Shut up, Lloyd,’ Tom growled, ‘for Christ’s sake. You’re not funny.’
‘What do you mean, about the timing?’ Kathy asked.
‘Well, he can’t go back to Branch now, can he? Not now.’
Tom made to say something, but Kathy cut in.‘Why not?’
‘Hasn’t he told you about that,either?’Lloyd’s face was a picture of innocent bafflement. He turned to Tom, then to Nicole, one of whom had apparently kicked him under the table.‘What?’
‘Why?’ Kathy said, trying with difficulty to make her voice sound light and amused.‘Why can’t he go back to Special Branch?’
Lloyd shrugged, looking as if he suddenly realised he’d gone too far.‘Personality clash,Kathy.Tom’s boss is an old woman.’He frowned, realising that wasn’t the right thing to say either. ‘A geriatric desk-jockey at forty. Sad case. Resents like hell the fact that this guy has balls.Well, you’d know all about that . . .’
‘Oh please.’ Nicole finally stepped in. ‘That’s enough. He’s been drinking this afternoon, Kathy. Take no notice of him. I know we all work for the Met, but do we have to talk shop?’
‘Hear hear,’ Tom said.‘It’s slightly shop, but Kathy and I got a flight with Air Support this afternoon.’
‘Oh really! Where did you go?’
It was a good try, but it would have taken a better actor than either of them to make it sound convincing. Lloyd gave Kathy a sheepish look and muttered,‘Yeah,they’re right,take no notice of me. I’m pissed. Had a bad week. Almost killed a guy . . .’
And so the conversation veered off, but Kathy hardly heard it.
Not half a mile away, Brock also was seated at a restaurant table, but in much more relaxed company. The Grants had insisted he join them and the musicians for a meal and now the conversation flowed easily around the table in the mood of post-performance euphoria. They were all so likeable, he thought, modest and talented and full of youthful optimism,talking excitedly about their plans for when they finished at the Guildhall later in the year. Elizabeth had been accepted for the Artist Diploma program at the Juilliard in New York, and her mother was proud but anxious about her move away from them.
At the end of the meal Brock made his good nights and set off home, stopping along the way to phone Suzanne. She sounded pleased to hear from him, and they agreed that it had been good to see each other, and they would do it again soon. They were both careful in what they said, but warm, definitely warm. The atmosphere of the restaurant still clung to Brock and he hummed a snatch of Tango Nuevo as he went on.
The atmosphere of the restaurant clung to Kathy, too, as Tom drove them away. She waited for him to say something, but when he remained silent she started.
‘So what was that all about, you not being able to go back to Branch?’
‘I told you I’d been having problems there lately.’
‘Not really.You haven’t really told me anything about what’s been happening.’
‘Like Lloyd said, it’s a personality clash. It happens all the time.’
‘And what about your plans?’
‘I’m just playing it by ear.’
‘That’s not what Lloyd said. He and Nicole seemed to know all about them.’
This was the nub, of course, that her friend Nicole, who’d never met Tom until she’d introduced them, seemed to know more about what was going on inside his head than she did.
‘Oh, it’s nothing. I bumped into them one lunchtime and was shooting off my mouth about stuff, that’s all.’
Kathy bridled. Tom didn’t shoot his mouth off to strangers. He was secretive and highly selective in what he said. ‘Stuff you haven’t told me.’
‘Look, it’s difficult sometimes to discuss certain things with you.You’re involved, with me, with Brock . . .’
‘Brock? What about him?’
‘You’ve been with him a long time.You’re very loyal to him, understandably so.’
‘And I would see your thoughts as disloyal?’
‘I’m just saying that it’s difficult sometimes to air ideas freely without feeling they may be taken the wrong way.’
‘Whereas with someone who’s practically a total stranger, like Nicole, you can feel free to shoot your mouth off? That’s bullshit.’
She felt the knot tightening in her stomach.What also irked her was the way in which he hadn’t discussed where they were now going, but had simply driven north towards Finchley on the assumption, presumably, that he would be inviting himself in.
They were almost there now, and she was just preparing some line to challenge him when he pulled over and said,‘I’m sorry,Kathy, we got off on the wrong foot tonight. It was Lloyd’s fault. Let’s leave it for now. We’ll catch up tomorrow or Monday and talk about it. Okay?’