I looked around her tiny sitting room and saw James and Bonnie talking quietly with Jenna in the corner. I hadn't talked with her not since a very brief chat at the hospital. She was holding up pretty well, considering the circumstances; showing her inner strength.
"How's Becky?" Jenna asked spotting me finally, causing all the rest of the eyes in the room to look at me.
"She's fast asleep.. finally," I said leaning tiredly against the door, all of the living room seats more than taken.
"Why aren't you with her?" Richie asked, glaring across at me and stirring stretching out his legs and shuffling around on the sofa.
"Needed the bathroom and I wanted to check up on a few things so I can actually relax," I told him gently, not wanting to provoke another fight. "She'll be ok Richie, I'm not going to leave her for very long."
"Right, see that you don't," he replied, this time without even a hint of aggression. Smiling, I walked over to the corner where the others were sat and squatted down next to them."How are you holding up, Jenna?" I asked staring into her tired looking eyes.
"I'm fine, Freen, just tired. There seems to be so much to sort out, even with all the help we're getting."
"I know, it seems endless doesn't it?" I said shaking my head, "I felt the same way when my mum died, it seemed like there were a million hoops to jump through; is there anything I can do?" I added, getting a soft, almost affectionate look from her, before she shook her head and smiled.
"No, dear, nothing more than you already are; protecting my family and looking after my daughter. That's the most important thing to me right now, as long as you can do that, then you'll more than help me, it's one less thing for me to worry about if you know what I mean."
I nodded my understanding, patting her on the knee awkwardly; there was nothing else that needed saying about that. I turned to James and inclined my head, gesturing at the kitchen.
"Excuse me a second please, Jenna," I said standing. "I need a word with James about the security for the flat."
"Don't worry too much, Freen," she said shaking her head. "We've all agreed that we'll be going home tomorrow morning. Robert left a notice with his solicitor asking to be buried in our local church and I intend to honor that wish. Plus there are people who will want to pay their respects and that's better done at home, not in some cold building."
She looked across at Richie and smiled sadly, "we may have had our differences, Robert and I, but he's still my husband and he deserves better than that."
Her voice settled with some force, as if she was waiting for someone in the room to challenge her, to call her out on her thoughts about what Rob deserved. If anyone there thought it, no-one was voicing those thoughts; and I suppose rightly so.
"Jenna has arranged for the family to fly back to the house, Freen," James said, "I know that won't exactly make you happy but..."
"I'll be fine boss, don't worry," I said quickly, trying to make little of my little phobia.
"JJ is already on his way and I'll be following you all on Monday."
"Monday?" I asked looking across at him puzzled.
"The funeral will be on Wednesday, Freen," Jenna said sniffing lightly. I've already arranged everything. James, Bonnie, some employees and partners will be arriving on Monday as our guests..."
"...and to work out the security for the event," James said, sounding a little embarrassed. "without wanting to seem tasteless Jenna, I do think I need to discuss this with, Freen. If you'll excuse us?"
"Of course, James, thank you..." Jenna said with a smile.
"How is this going to affect us, boss?" I asked quietly, finally voicing the question that had been running through my head since the lonely early hours of the morning outside the flat.
"How do you mean, Freen, with the job?" he replied his voice low as well, realizing the need not to be overheard by the family. I nodded in reply, pouring the boiled water into the teapot. "It doesn't affect us in that way; as far as we're concerned, it's business as usual. I had a firm contract with the company, not Rob, his passing won't affect that."
"I see," I said nodding again, "what is it you wanted to discuss about the security arrangements for the funeral then?"
"Absolutely nothing," he replied shaking his head. "You let JJ and me worry about them. I wanted to remind you that you've got a more important job to do right now."
"What's that?" I asked as I filled the milk jug and put the small sugar bowl onto a tray with the cups and the pot. James smiled and nodded towards the hallway. I turned around, seeing nothing but the empty hallway; then I heard the toilet flush and seconds later, a mussy haired redhead appeared, looking at me through bleary eyes.
"Hey," I said as she walked into the kitchen, "I thought you were asleep."
"I was," she replied pushing herself into me and wrapping her arms around my waist, "but I needed the loo."
"I heard," I said as I put my arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Is it the normal stuff, or my special brew?" she asked, causing James' eyebrows to raise appraisingly.
"If you want your special brew, love, I'll make it for you," I said kissing her forehead.
"I'll take this through before it goes cold then," James said lifting the tray carefully.
"Not so fast," I said reaching around Becky and pointing to a cupboard, "get me the box out of there please, boss, and the china cup that's next to it."
"Camomile, Fennel & Liquorice," he read, staring at the box in disgust as I flicked the kettle on again, "sounds pretty disgusting if you ask me, what on earth made you try that ladies?"
"It came in a sampler," I told him frowning, "and Becky has developed quite a taste for it."
"It's actually quite nice, James," she said as I shook my head, her arms firmly wrapped around my waist, making the brewing of her herbal tea somewhat more awkward. "It also helps me sleep."
"Well, I guess it's each to their own, Miss Armstrong," he said with a wink as I shook my head once again.
"I'll take this through now, if it's ok with you chef," he added tipping his head to me. I nodded as I poured the boiling water onto Becky's special tea bag; stirring it with a spoon as James took his cue and vanished, tray in hand.
I got a smile as I handed Becky the freshly brewed mug, her hands finally releasing me and wrapping themselves around the cup instead. As she took a sip, she sighed and looked at me seriously.
"Where did you go, baby?" she asked, the accusation clear in her voice, "I woke up and you weren't there."
"I needed the bathroom, love," I said, telling her the half truth. "Then I wanted to make sure everything was ok."
"By making tea?" she said, this time the accusation clear.
"I needed to talk to James," I answered apologetically, "there's a lot we need to sort out to keep you all safe right now."
"...and?" she asked burying her face into her cup once more, avoiding eye contact.
"...and he's just basically told me to fuck off. I have my orders, babe, I'm to do nothing but stick by your side."
"Did you really need him to tell you that, Freen?" she said and I knew the hurt was there. Quickly, I snatched the cup from her hands and put it on the side, dragging her into my arms.
"Of course not," I said as her hands tentatively wrapped themselves around me. "He didn't say a word actually, but if he'd have told me otherwise, I'd have quit, you know that. The only time I won't be by your side is when you don't want me there."
"Like yesterday?"
"Like yesterday," I said kissing the top of her head once more.
"I'm sorry about that," she said as she burrowed into my arms her tea forgotten.
"Shhhh," I whispered, stroking her back soothingly, "I told you, I understand everything. I really do."
"Don't let me hurt you, Freen," she cried into me, "I know I'm a bit fucked up right now, but don't let that come between us, don't let me fuck this up."
I patted her soothingly, hoping that she would understand before gently pushing her away and looking into her eyes; telling her a story in one look. "Come on you," I told her finally, "it's time you were back in bed, you look shattered."
"Will you stay with me?" she asked, almost pleading with me as her brown eyes bored into mine.
"Try and stop me," I said taking her hand and squeezing her fingers as hard as I could without hurting her. "Bathroom breaks notwithstanding that is; come on, let's go back to bed."
She let me lead her back to the bedroom without protest and I tucked her into bed for what I hoped would be the last time that day. As I snuggled up behind her, pulling her tiny frame into mine, I planted a kiss at the nape of her neck as she placed her hands on mine.
"Thank you for being here, baby," she said as she leaned back into me, "it makes me feel good that you're here with me tonight. I'm sorry about yesterday"
"You're welcome, love," I whispered as her breathing settled down once more, ignoring her apology; "where else would I be right now? It's not as if you haven't been there for me when I need you, it's my turn now."
"I love you, Freenky," she said her thumbs stroking my hands as I held her tight.
"I love you too, Bec," I told her kissing her neck just once more.
"I know you do," she replied, her words slowing as sleep overtook her once more.
"Yeah, well don't you forget it," I ordered her, suspecting she wouldn't hear, the soft snoring telling me all I needed to know.
----
The next morning found me waking up alone in our bed, Becky nowhere to be seen. As I looked at my watch, I realized it was late, far too late really. I hadn't slept well last night, my afternoon nap, and general fears making it difficult to drift off easily. It wasn't an excuse. I hadn't slept in beyond ten hundred hours since I was a teenager, not even when I was on night duty back in the army.
Rolling out of bed and stretching, I grabbed my bath robe from the back of the door and pulled it on; heading for the door as fast as I could. As I walked into the hallway, I heard voices from the living room and walked in rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Morning baby," Becky said from where she was sitting opposite her brother, sounding brighter than she had the day before. "Would you like a cup?"
I nodded as I sat down next to her, accepting the kiss and the cup she poured gratefully. As I sipped, I wondered where everyone was.
"Mum's still in the spare room, James and Bonnie went home last night and we're here; that's all of us, babe."
"Where's Richard? I asked suddenly, realizing that we were thin on the ground security wise.
"James sent him to a hotel," Richie interrupted yawning loudly. "Simon's in reception watching the front door and James' arranged for a few guys to sit outside on shifts in cars. He left you that..."
He gestured at a miniature radio pack like the ones that we used at Armstrong Manor and I reached for it, only to have my hand stayed.
"James said you were only to use it if it was absolutely necessary," Richie said as he released my hand. "He told me to remind you that you have more important duties right now, whatever that means."
"Put it on, Freen,"Becky said, "you know you won't feel comfortable without it."
"No," I said reaching past Richie's block to grab the radio and tuck it into the pocket of my robe, "James is right, I'll use it if I need it, the others are more than good enough to look after things without me now the LT's took charge."
I leaned back onto the sofa and slipped an arm around Becky as she settled back into me. "He's also right about me having more important things to worry about. How did you sleep, love?"
"Ok, I woke up a few times... but I managed to drop off again."
I knew that, practically every time she'd fidgeted in her sleep I'd woken up, when I'd finally got to sleep. I had no idea how I'd missed her getting up. I could only assume that I was well away, exhaustion probably getting to me again.
"I slept well too, Freen," Richie said tipping his cup to me, "thanks for asking."
"Please to hear it, for both of you," I said as I drained my cup and sighed happily. "Have you eaten or would you like me to make something?"
"We've not got much in, baby. I had a look when I made the tea."
"Well, leave it with me," I said standing up and lifting the tray, "I'm sure I can come up with something. More tea?"
"Please," Jenna's voice said from the doorway, "or coffee if any is going?"
"I'm sure I can rustle some up," I told her smiling, breakfast too?"
"That would be lovely, thank you, Freen."
I nodded at her as she sat next to her daughter and ventured into the kitchen. One search of the cupboards and fridge later and I had a plan in place, as well as an earpiece, and ten minutes later, I was serving up tea, coffee, and filled omelettes with a load of freshly buttered toast.
"It's not much," I apologized as they tucked into the beans, cheese and ham omelette like starving folks, "but as Becky said, we don't have a lot in."
"That was lovely dear, thank you," Jenna said clapping me on the shoulder as she pushed away her plate. "Becky, you should marry this woman as soon as you can, don't let someone who can cook a breakfast like this from almost nothing escape you."
"This is nothing, mum," Becky replied smiling at me fondly as she wolfed down the rest her breakfast. "Freen's actually a really good cook. I wish I had a bigger kitchen here that she could show off in..."
I didn't add to their discussion, choosing to chew on a piece of toast instead. It was a little bit surreal actually, sitting eating breakfast on a Sunday morning as if nothing had happened. I wasn't sure if they were just being brave, coming to terms with their loss, or what, but I knew it wasn't for me to comment. They could deal with their grief in any way they saw fit, it was my job to be there for them, all of them; not just my Becky.
I would do the best by them, no matter what it took, and no matter how much it cost me; that's how it was.
----
Wednesday came around far too quickly, the days flying by in a flurry of preparations, for both the Armstrongs and for us. There was so much to do, even with Becky's trip to Iraq taking a back seat; not cancelled of course, that would never do for Becky flaming Armstrong, but she had arranged for a deputation to go over with her personal apologies, and a promise that as soon as it was decent to do so, she would come over in person.
Frankly, it was a relief, but even with the removal of that personal pressure there were still things to be done. We had to put together a team to brief and escort the sales party, we had to make arrangements for the house, expanding the security because of the possible threat and we had to organize security checks on the people that wanted to visit to pay their respects to Rob, who had been laid out in classic style in the morning room dressed in his Sunday best.
It was like a scene from a period drama as friends and family arrived to be received by Jenna and Richie as heads of the household. It was a very tough time for everyone, and the strain was starting to show.
On all of us.
The second hardest thing for me was keeping myself out of the loop. I had, at James' insistence, allowed JJ to take total command of the situation, taking a back seat for the first time in a long time. It was totally unnecessary as well, because the hardest thing I faced was Becky retreating once again into the safety blanket that was her family. As the funeral approached, we became more and more distant, barely speaking at all unless necessary; rarely touching each other, even in bed.
Our situation hadn't been helped by the necessary re-emergence of Miss Freen Sarocha, CPO to Miss Becky Armstrong. Despite the main reason to keep our relationship on the QT having gone, we'd agreed that it was, at least for now, completely necessary, in the face of adversity image was everything, and the Armstrong family would not show weakness in front of their 'friends', let alone their 'enemies'.
"He's a shit," Richie whispered to me as another unfamiliar face walked into the morning room, chest puffed out acting the 'big I am'.
"How so?" I whispered back as the grey haired man shook hands with Jenna and stepped up to look into Rob's open coffin, a sad frown on his bowed head.
"He fucking hated dad and dad hated him just as much. They were massive competitors; we were always beating him to the big deals and he fucking hated it. If I had my way, he'd not be here at all, but we've got appearances to keep, you know?"
"I know," I replied chancing a covert glance at Becky who was now stood by her mother.
"You'll be ok, you two you know," Richie said so quietly that even I barely heard him, "it's just how she is, how she deals with things. She was like this after that Melanie at university, totally locked herself away. But this time she has you, it just might take her a while to remember again."
"I thought she was doing better," I said sadly, "I thought we were doing ok, then we came here and..."
"...and it all became real for her again. She's never really been happy here; her flat has always been her little sanctuary, ever since she bought it."
"Rob said that he bought it," I said reminded of his words from when he had ordered Becky to let me stay.
"Yeah, he would say that, Becky bought it with a bonus she got for one of her first big deals."
"It must have been a pretty big deal," I whispered, wondering just how much that flat had cost and coming up with a very big number.
"You have no idea," he replied shaking his head, "Becky pretty much set the company on its feet with it, she got enough to get a big chunk of the flat paid off. I didn't do a massive amount, she drove the whole thing, but even I got enough for two very nice cars for me."
"Impressive," I said looking at my girl, wondering if it was totally inappropriate to think she looked really hot in the dark suit she was wearing, and deciding it probably was.
"Yeah, well she still couldn't have done it without me," Richie said with a smile, "I'm pretty good at flowering things up and making people happy; she's really good at getting people to sign on the dotted line. We were a good team back then, didn't last though."
I didn't reply, partly because more people had arrived and my earpiece was going bananas, and partly because I didn't really want to know her side of the story. Becky had told me all about how their relationship had degenerated.
After another half an hour of guests arriving, Jenna nodded across at me and, as arranged, I closed the heavy double doors now that everyone had taken their seats.
"Good morning everyone, I thank you all for coming," Jenna said standing alone at the front of the room. "I know Robert would appreciate that so many friends, and indeed rivals, coming along to see him off. I know it would put a very large smile on his face to see you all here."
There were a few smiles and nods as Jenna began her eulogy, recounting Rob's many successes as a businessman as well as a husband and father. From my conversations with Becky and Jenna, I wondered who she had actually based her tale on, because none of it sounded like the Robert Armstrong either of them had told me about; or indeed the one I had met.
Still, it seemed to go down well amongst the old guard, an old guard that according to the voice of James Porter in my ear were circling Armstrong Industries like vultures, hoping to tear strips off the business, big fucking strips in fact. Unfortunately for them, what they hadn't banked on was one Jenna Armstrong.
"So, with Robert's memory firmly in my heart, I have to make an announcement today," she said with a strength in her voice that surprised even me. "As from tomorrow, I will be taking charge of Armstrong Industries as CEO in my husbands place. Robert was quite insistent that the company stay a family led one."
Despite the solemnity of the event there were a few mutters at her words. "Those of you who know me," she continued, "will remember that I was an integral part of the business in the early days and will know that I've had an awful lot of input into its running by Robert's side over the years, despite my recent break. However, I will not be on my own in running the company, and with my children by my side, I know the company will go from strength to strength; continuing the legacy that my dear husband and I started all those years ago."
Right on their cue, Becky and Richie walked up to their mother, standing either side of her in a dramatic show of family support; in my ear, I could hear James chortling away.
"Oh I tell you blondie, there are men in that room that would happily kill those three right now. Jenna really knows how to turn a tragedy into a triumph."
I looked up at the camera, tilted my head slightly and blipped the mic switch that was resting in my hand to get his attention.
"Not literally, blondie," he laughed, getting my meaning; "look at Harrison, third in second row; he looks like he could throttle Jenna right where she stands. I think that lady there has just put a spanner in all his fine plans of a hostile takeover."
I nodded very slightly, hoping no-one would notice and blipped the button once more, surveying the people in the room a little more carefully as I thought about James' words. I didn't think there was a present danger, but there was no harm in checking out the reactions of people just in case. Jenna spoke for a little bit longer, before handing the floor over to her children to speak. After that, came some friends and colleagues before the floor was opened to anyone else who wanted to add to the event, share their memories of Rob. Finally, the speeches came to an end and Jenna stepped forward for the final time.
"Thank you for your thoughts everyone, and for all of your kind words. I know I, and my family, appreciate every sentiment and take comfort in the knowledge of how dearly loved Robert was. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that it will help each of us deal with our loss. Now, if I could invite you to step through to the dining room for refreshments, my family and I would like some private time with dear Robert before we depart for the private funeral. I thank you all again for coming and hope to see you late when we return."
Jenna gestured to me and I opened the other set of doors at the back of the room. I had subtly moved to the back of the room as the speeches were being given, Jenna's choreographing of the event working perfectly. In the dining room, there were other members of Secure365 as well as a catering team with drinks and huge plates of food. Once the last guest had passed by, their final words to the family complete, I closed the doors behind them and stood with my back to them; ensuring that they stayed closed, the families privacy protected by my back.
"Thank heavens for that," Jenna said as she dragged her children into a hug, "I thought that would never end... shall we?"
They gathered around the foot of the coffin, arms wrapped around each other. I stood at the back of the room and watched as they shared their grief together, in their own personal way. After a long moment, they stepped away and Jenna gestured to me once more.
"Send them in, Boss," I sent over the radio, as I walked to the hallway door, "the family is coming out now."
"The vehicles are ready, Freen," James sent back, "guests are secure, hallways are clear through, bring them out when you're ready."
As I opened the door and stepped out, doing my own personal checks as normal, taking nothing to chance, seeing nothing suspicious, I gestured for the family to step into the hallway for the first part of the journey to the funeral proper. James and JJ had arranged to drive the family to the local church in our vehicles; the security we had arranged necessarily heavy. We were a huge and obvious target, and there was no way I was losing another package, not again, not that I counted Rob as a loss, not anymore.
We'd had our own little inquest after Rob's death, a very late night conference call when everyone else was asleep. Somehow James had obtained the doctor's report and it confirmed the initial diagnosis, acute heart failure. I knew, from the CPO that had been with him that night, that Rob had not been in the hotel room alone; that he'd been having a romantic night away with his PA, Alison. The thing was we knew he was ok immediately after she left, and that our guy was with him moments before he collapsed. We'd done everything that we could to get him to the hospital, in fact the only problem we had as far as I was concerned was that I'd heard about it from Jenna, and not from my people; a point I had made loudly and angrily. In the end though, there was nothing any of us could have done to change events. Rob had, to all intents and purposes, fucked himself to death, I knew of a lot worse ways in which you could go.
As I escorted the Armstrongs down the hallway to the front doors, I saw Andy leading the people from the funeral home into the morning room from the other end, presumably to finish boxing up Rob and to transfer him to the hearse that would take him on his final journey. To my surprise, Rob had requested a quiet private ceremony, limited to family only; well family, and their assorted hangers on, like me. Alison was, by mutual agreement, not present; although she had impressed me with her genuine affection and grief when she had visited earlier.
The timings had to be carefully done, we were to wait in the hallway until the coffin was brought out and carried to the hearse, and then we would follow behind, the family split into the separate vehicles for added security. I'd insisted on this, much to Becky's disgust; though what she didn't know was that we'd intercepted more hate mail and at least three credible threats to the family's safety, so credible even MI5 were finally taking an interest.
I was concerned for their safety, concerned for Becky's safety; and, after James had carefully explained the reasons everything carefully to them all, avoiding the nasty details of course, they'd all agreed.
Becky included.
We lined up along the wall as the coffin was brought out; the lid closed, Rob sealed away for his final journey. As if from an unspoken order, like a well drilled parade, heads were lowered from family and staff alike as the coffin was carried past us and out to the car; the family turning to follow along behind.
As we walked out into the sun, I slipped on my sunglasses and escorted the Armstrongs to my car; James traveling with JJ in his big black X5. With grave formality, the funeral director, who had been sitting in the passenger seat of the hearse, stepped out and walked to the front of the vehicle, cane in hand and donned his top hat.
Solemnly, he began a familiar slow march and led the procession down the driveway to the road as we reached the gates he turned towards the cortege and doffed his hat. The formal escort complete, he walked back to the hearse and climbed back in. As he closed the door, I gave the order for the gates to be opened and we were on our way once more.
----
The afternoon sun was high as they laid Robert Armstrong to rest in the dark Somerset soil; a temporary marker placed at the head to mark the grave. To everyone's surprise, Rob had left very specific instructions about not only where he wanted to be buried, but the entire funeral arrangements, right down to the suit he wanted to wear and the type of marker he wanted.
It didn't surprise me that his choice of gravestone would be large and expensive, it fitted the man perfectly; even in death he would remain larger than life. What did surprise me was that, despite the size of the block of granite and marble that he had requested, it sounded tasteful and totally in keeping with the surroundings in which he would lie.
Not for Rob was something loud and ostentatious, his final resting place would be marked with something that you would expect for the self styled Lord of the Manor; a monument that would cover his grave into eternity.
There was a slight tug on my arm as the coffin was lowered into the ground, a tentative hand reaching out for my own. As our fingers entwined, I felt a bewildering sense of relief. I couldn't explain it, but for the first time that day, I felt like all was well in my little world. Becky and I stood side by side as the chaplain said those famous final words over the grave, shoulder to shoulder against the world. She slipped away from me just once more, but only to bend down and pick up a handful of dirt to drop into the grave. I heard the rattle as it struck the lid of the coffin and watched helplessly as she stood there, hand still open and stared into the hole.
With a sense of foreboding, I saw her shoulders start shaking as she stared and sure enough, there were tears streaming down her face as she turned away from the grave and ran towards me, burying her face in my chest. I held her tightly as she cried, catching Jenna's sympathetic eye as she slowly walked away; the funeral was over, it was time to go home.
-----
"You ok there?" I asked a silent Becky as we sat, side by side, on the balcony of my room, a tray of food left untouched on the table behind us.
"Getting there, babe," she replied, "sort of, bit confused really."
I looked over at her, sat with her feet on the metal bars of the balcony guard rail staring out into the evening sunset. I reached out and placed my hand on hers, squeezing gently, hoping she would continue.
"I mean," she continued turning her hand over and grabbing mine tightly, "How the fuck am I supposed to feel right now? Upset, sad, relieved maybe?"
"I don't know, Bec, how do you feel?" I asked, as unhelpful as ever, my inability to empathize coming to the fore once more.
"Numb I think, like it hasn't sunk in properly... but mostly guilty I think, is that normal?"
I took a deep breath and stared out over the gardens, trying to collect my thoughts. I knew all to well the feeling of guilt, knew it like an old friend; despite Joanna's attempts to convince me that it was all unnecessary.
"I don't know, love," I told her closing my eyes.
"How did you feel," she asked suddenly, "after you lost your mum?"
"Confused," I admitted thinking back to those awful times, "I guess I didn't know how to feel."
"Yeah," she said her finger nails tracing patterns into my palm, "were you angry too?"
"Only a little," I told her, deciding to share just a little more. "Mostly, I felt bad because I was relieved it was over for her. she had been in so much pain at the end."
"I understand about that, Freenky," she said sympathetically, "that makes perfect sense to me. The thing is, I feel bad because there's a tiny part of me that's actually glad he won't be there to judge me anymore, that he can't interfere with the way I live my life."
"How so?" I asked, wondering if she might finally tell me what I suspected about her father.
"How didn't he?" she said bitterly, her nails digging into me painfully as she spoke. "He butted into my fucking life at every opportunity, never let me do anything I wanted to do, never let me be me, never wanted to understand who I was at all. All dad ever wanted to do was tell me who I should be, who he thought I should be that is..."
"Hey," I said grabbing at her hand before she dug her way through to the bone, feeling a slight trickle of blood flow; "it's ok, love, it's all ok..."
"I've lost so much time trying to please him," she said with a voice thick with unshed tears, "so much time I'm not going to get back now, so much I've missed out on... and for what?"
We sat in silence for a while. I didn't have anything to add to what she'd said, didn't have an answer for her question. Every loss I'd suffered, I'd mourned the lack of time that I'd had with that person; mum, Whitey, it seemed that just as I found someone, as soon as we'd really connected, I lost them. Becky, though, seemed to be mourning not her father, but her life; or rather the life that she had lost at his hands.
"Did I ever tell you about what he said when I told him I wanted to try and sell my paintings?" Becky said finally, her foot tapping against the railing making it shake under the blows.
"Not really," I replied thinking back carefully. She'd told me a lot of it, but she obviously wanted to get something specific off her chest,
"He told me I didn't have the talent to sell anything I had ever painted, basically told me I couldn't give them away. Said I should concentrate on doing what I was good at."
"...and that was?" I asked pretty much knowing what the answer was going to be.
"Selling his fucking guns," she replied fixing me with an old fashioned look.
"Well, he was right," I told her firmly getting a look and an extra tight squeeze of the hand for my trouble. "You are good at selling guns, Bec, more than good at it in fact, but he was wrong about the painting. I told you, I might not know much but I think you're good at that too, very good in fact."
"Thank you," she said lifting my knuckles to her lips and kissing them tenderly; "and thank you for this week, Freen, I'm sorry that we spent so much of it hiding."
"It was our decision, Bec," I replied comfortingly, well my attempt at it anyway.
"No," she said kissing my hand once more, "we both know it was my decision and my decision alone, I'm sorry I cut you out so much, I've been a bit of a bitch to you this week and I really regret that."
"It's ok..."
"...no, it's really not," she interrupted me, "there really wasn't any need for me to treat you so badly when we weren't around other people."
"Becky..." I started to say before...
"...and I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of us, or having second thoughts or something, ok? Because I'm not."
"Becky..."
"I just, needed to get today over with that's all, I feel I can breathe a bit easier now, I don't know why but I do."
"Becky," I said slightly more forcefully this time as the pain cut through me once more, her fingers squeezing the life out of my injured hand.
"What, baby?" She asked looking across at me, appearing to be confused, and a mite bit grumpy at my constant attempts at interrupting her little apology speech.
"Firstly, Bec, I never thought any of those things, ok? Yeah, I did feel a bit hurt that you didn't want me around, but that was only because I really wanted to be there for you. I understood ok?I've been there myself, I know how it feels sweetheart, I really do."
I paused for a second as her eyes filled with tears, smiling over at her reassuringly. She blinked rapidly and sniffed shaking her head.
"And secondly?" she asked as she regained her composure.
"Secondly, love," I said matter of factly, "I'm afraid I'm bleeding on your skirt."
I nodded to my hand, still firmly clasped in hers and the thin trail of blood that was, sure enough, trickling from my palm and dripping onto her black skirt.
"What the fuck?" she exclaimed turning over my hand and spotting the nail marks. "Did I do that?"
"Get a damp cloth and sort out your skirt, babe," I said taking back my hand and licking the blood from the palm, the ionic taste reminding me of another sad time in a far foreign land.
"Bollocks to my skirt," she said getting up and grabbing a cloth from the dinner tray and dabbing at my hand with it, "let's get you cleaned up."
"It's only a scratch, Bec," I told her shaking my head and closing my hand, "I've had far worse."
"You need it cleaning and dressing," she insisted, making me smile at the level of her forcefulness.
"It'll be ok," I replied, "it'll be healed in a few minutes, don't worry about it."
"You sure?" she asked, still holding the cloth over me, looking at me anxiously.
"Positive," I said, tugging at her until she sat down on my lap enabling me to wrap my arms around her, my fist clenched tightly on the cloth she had placed in it, "I'm absolutely sure I'll survive."
"Well, I'd offer to kiss it better," she said after she slipped her arms around my neck, "but I hate the sight of other people's blood... I'd have made a lousy nurse."
"I'm sure you'd have been a wonderful nurse," I said sincerely with no attempt at false flattery.
"I'm pretty sure you would be excellent at whatever you turned your hand to, selling, painting, anything."
"You think?" she asked me, her voice soft and low, like a child seeking for approval from a parent.
"You've got to trust your old Sarn't Sarocha soldier," I replied with a grin, "'cause she doesn't think, she knows!"
I did as well. Even in the short time I'd known her, I was sure that Becky Armstrong had an extraordinary talent for success; she was an extraordinary woman.
"Thank you, baby," she said finally, "are we ok?"
"I think we are," I told her pulling her close, her chin resting on my shoulder as I hugged her tight.
"Didn't you just say Sarn't Sarocha doesn't think she knows?" she said, her lips brushing my ear as she leaned back to kiss me.
"Exactly!"
-----
We sat together on that balcony watching the sun sink towards the horizon when suddenly Becky climbed off me, stood, and pulled at my hand insistently.
"Come on, I need a change of scenery. I'm sick of just looking out there. I want to be out there."
"You want to go outside?" I asked wondering what the current security was and suspecting that it would be ok. "I want three things, babe. A walk, some food and a holiday."
"Well, we can do the first, not sure about the last; and as for the food, I thought you weren't hungry?"
"I'm not, but I think after a walk, I'm going to need something, and you need to eat too... have you eaten anything at all today?"
"I had a little something earlier," I lied, my own appetite lost with hers.
She frowned at me as I hauled myself to my feet, my legs half asleep from where she had been sitting. I suspected that she didn't believe me, after all I'd hardly been out of her sight all day, one way or another. If she did suspect subterfuge, she allowed me my little deception, not mentioning it as we walked down the stairs and headed for the gardens, leaving the house arm in arm for the first time ever.
"Freen?" Becky said, breaking the silence that had descended between us as we walked across the gardens towards the lake that nestled in the distant copse of trees.
"Hmm?" I replied absently, picking at the plaster she had insisted that I put on my hand before we left.
"Would you like to go on holiday with me? Go somewhere nice, incognito, get away from it all?"
"Sounds good to me," I said trying to remember when I had last been on holiday, and thinking that it was probably when Paul was still alive. "Can you afford the time right now, with so much going on at work?"
"Fuck work," she said with venom, "I need an escape right now and besides, mum needs to take control. She doesn't need me being there while she establishes herself there."
"She said that?" I asked surprised that Jenna would be so blunt.
"She didn't have to, babe. Come on, you said you did business studies, you know I'm right."
"You are," I conceded, knowing that a new leader in work or in the army needed to establish their own way of doing things, and knowing also that one thing you didn't need was the old guard around to affect that balance.
"Settled then, I'm going to book us somewhere nice, somewhere special; just you and me on a nice romantic get away."
"Don't I get a say in that?" I asked, joking with her; happy to see a bit of enthusiasm if not happiness, on this sad day.
"Not if I'm paying you don't," she said with the first genuine smile of the day hitting her face, lighting it up and making my heart lift along with it.
"Do I get to know where we're going then?"
"Not if I'm paying," she repeated pulling on my arm playfully. "It'll just have to be a surprise, I'll ask Jeremiah for his advice on security so you won't have an excuse to find out."
"The LT owes me, Bec," I teased, trying to keep the light mood alive, "I'm sure he'd tell me if I asked."
"Don't. You. Dare," she replied, and that was the end of that.
-----
We were deep in the copse when the sun slipped low enough to turn the sky a deep burnished orange, making the small lake glow attractively, its waters looking even more inviting than the last time I was here.
"Remember this spot?" Becky asked as we walked near the edge in a tiny clearing, letting go of my hand and walking over to a tree stump and patting it.
"Sort of," I said looking around, "isn't this where we..."
"...had a long discussion about our first kiss," she finished sitting on the stump and crossing her legs, "yes it is, good memory!"
"Things got complicated didn't they?" I said walking over to where she sat.
"They did, baby, that's ok though, isn't it?"
"Yeah it is," I replied placing my hands on her arms and rubbing them gently, "complicated is ok with me."
"Tough day," she said as I stepped around her, gently massaging her shoulders.
"Yup," I agreed as she leaned back into me, my arms wrapping around her.
"Freenky?" she said as she stared out over the waters, the light finally starting to go.
"Yes, love?" I asked gently, sensing the hurt that was ebbing into her voice once more.
"I think I'm going to miss him, you know?" she said crying again as I quickly held her tight. "After everything he did, after all the bullshit, I'm really going to fucking miss him."
"I know, baby," I told her holding her tight as she cried once more, thinking of mum, and Paul, and how their absence still caused me pain, "I know."