NINETEEN #3
I forced myself to stay in control as I left the gatehouse and walked towards the loch. Once I was far enough away, I doubled over, my hands on my knees as I gulped huge lungfuls of air. Fresh, crisp, cold Scottish air.
It took a moment, a hard-fought moment, but I was back in control, my breathing calmer as I straightened up. I needed to be moving.
I reached the loch and broke into a run. No warmup. No stretching. No gentle jog. A run. I needed to work the shock out of me. I needed open space to clear my head and understand what had just happened. What my options were.
I promised Oliver I wouldn’t run away. This, running around the loch, was as close to fleeing as I could get.
I couldn’t break my promise to him. To myself.
I had to work out a way to handle this situation.
I couldn’t tell Oliver, not over the phone anyway.
And how would he react? I knew he had been dialling back his protective instincts.
He’d been doing that for me, and I knew it wasn’t easy for him.
But he had given me space to trust him. I couldn’t put him in a position where all that would be undone.
No, this was my problem. I needed to solve it. Somehow.
Forty minutes later, I rounded the edge of the loch, the pontoon ahead of me, the lodges beyond that and the gatehouse poking out from the trees in the background.
It was beautiful. Or it had been. It felt tainted now. But that angered me more than I realised. How dare Henderson do this to me? How dare he invade my safe place?
And there he was, leaning against the bannister of the steps of the pontoon. On his own.
I slowed. I could turn and go a different way. But that anger kicked up again. Why should I?
Henderson pushed away from the railing and stepped onto the track, blocking my path.
‘Hey, Alex,’ he said in the most casual, friendliest tone, as if we were best of friends.
I stopped a few feet before him. ‘What do you want?’
He gave a confused look. ‘What do I want?’ he repeated the words as if he was bemused. ‘I’m just saying hello.’
‘Why are you here and why are you calling yourself Daniel Fletcher?’
‘That’s not a nice way to greet a friend.’ He took a step closer. ‘I’m working for Laker Security. I heard they were taking on new personnel. I’m not in the army anymore. But you must know that, already.’
‘Why the new name?’
‘Alex,’ he said, drawing my name out. ‘Come on, you of all people must be able to work that out.’
‘They don’t know?’
‘They? You mean Oliver, Dom, and Aaron Laker? No, of course they don’t.’
‘Because if they did, you wouldn’t have got a job with them.’
All I needed to do was to tell Oliver who he was. I could save Dom the bother of running a check. Then the problem would be solved. Once they knew the truth, Henderson would be gone.
‘Not my fault though,’ he said, his eyes narrowing a fraction.
‘Not mine either.’ I don’t know what I was getting into with him. I went to walk past, but he stepped in my way.
‘Rude,’ he said. ‘Walking off in the middle of a conversation.’
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘That’s not really true, is it?’ He sighed. ‘Look, Alex. I don’t want to argue with you. That’s not what we should do. I just want a chance to start again. Start afresh. With my life. With my career and with you.’
‘We are not starting anything.’ I ground out the words.
I could hear the tremble in my voice and hated the betrayal.
It spurred me on. ‘I tell you what is going to happen. You’re going to pack your bags and leave.
You can tell Dom you’ve changed your mind.
You can also stop following me. Stop sending me flowers and photos.
Stop harassing me. If you don’t, I will tell Dom and Oliver exactly who you are, what you did, and then I will call the police.’
I nearly ran out of breath. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
‘Alex, come on, don’t be like that.’ He went to touch me, and I recoiled. ‘Okay. I’m sorry. I’m rushing you. I didn’t mean to.’
‘Don’t you ever touch me.’ I couldn’t stop the wobble in my voice or the gasp for breath.
He took a step back, his hands up as if surrendering.
‘I’m sorry.’ He dropped his hands. ‘But, Alex, you see we have a problem. I’m not going to leave.
You’re not going to tell tales. Because if you do, I will be pressing charges against Oliver Laker for war crimes in Afghanistan.
You know the government are very keen to hear from people like me.
I have contacts who would be more than happy to share such information.
That won’t do his reputation much good. Will lose sponsors for this place, I imagine.
Everything he’s been and everything he wants to be––gone, just like that.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You don’t have to.’ He took another step back, and I could see the enjoyment on his face. ‘You can even call my bluff. If you dare. See you around soon, Alex.’
And then he was gone, walking back towards the lodges like he was on a gentle stroll.
My whole body was trembling. Fear. Anger. Desperation. All vying for pole position. I held my head in my hands, dropped them, turned around, and then back again. As if answers would appear in front of me.
But none did.