Life Diverted Part 2 Adulthood Chapter 8 Warlord
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Life Diverted (Part 2: Adulthood)Chapter 5: Spycatcher free porn video
July 1973, age 18
All is not what it seems. That’s a phrase I got a much better understanding of during July and August of ‘73. Dan was the first to mention it, but he wasn’t the last.
“Nice time playing croquet?”, Dan asked me when I got home Sunday night.
I considered a poetic reply and came up with: “Bastard”.
He had a good laugh, then told me, “The two object lessons from this are that things are not always what they seem, and it’s quite possible for a person to adapt to fit into any social situation. It takes effort and skill, but it’s possible, so bear that in mind for Cranwell.”
“So you obviously don’t detest your godson. I quite like him, by the way. We’ve arranged to meet in London next week.”
“Good”, Dan replied with an approving nod. “After you and Caity, Hugo is the closest thing I have to family. I usually break him out of school on Sunday afternoons when it’s my day off. He doesn’t have the best home life.”
“You’re kidding! He seemed to have a pretty cushy life to me.”
“Home life is more than the house you live in and the possessions you own”, he said sadly. “His mother is a snotty little bitch, and Ed gets too wrapped up in his work. Hugo had a nanny that basically raised him till he was seven, then they packed him off to boarding school. His sister has grown into a carbon copy of her mother. She’ll be going into upper sixth at Cheltenham Ladies’ College, so that must make her, what, seventeen? She’ll soon be on the hunt for a husband, which should put the fear of God into every eligible bachelor on the planet.”
Note to self: steer clear.
“Lady Tedbury-Smith seems to be quite fond of you, darling Daniel.”
“Don’t you start! Seriously, beware of her. She’s devious, conniving and too intelligent for her own good. Ed met his match with her in every way, which is probably why he fell for her. She kept him in her bed until his father died, thus giving her the title and half the inheritance. Then within a month, they were separated, which devastated Ed. Both kids were in boarding school by then, but it hit Hugo hard. The divorce forced him and his sister to pick opposite sides, which divided them irrevocably. Very sad all round. Anyway, changing the subject, have a read of this.” He handed me the Sunday Times newspaper. “Page six.”
Once on the page, I spotted the headline: AEROSPACE MERGER CONFOUNDS LABOUR PARTY.
The story gave a pretty accurate account of the planned merger of our engineering divisions, which we had yet to announce. “Was this a leak?”
“Yes, but an expected one. We sat down with the union reps on Friday to brief them on the merger and worker cooperative idea. That was well received, but it was inevitable that they’d blab to their friends in the Labour Party, and from there, the press.”
“Any push-back?”
Dan laughed. “Nothing serious. Labour are in a right muddle. Some are praising the cooperative. Others are saying the merger is a waste of time as they’re still going to nationalise us. And Tony Benn is loudly calling it a tactical move, which of course it is. We’ll issue a statement in the morning to confirm the details, but the reaction from the business world is positive. The consensus seems to be that we’re an attractive prospect in an otherwise troubled economy. With luck, the initial offering may be oversubscribed.”
“When is it happening?”
“As soon as possible. No later than the 1st if October. The Yom Kippur War starts on the 6th, so we must have it done before that.”
“Would it not be better to wait?”
“If we had a couple of years to spare, yes. The markets are still depressed from January’s crash. Inflation is at 9%. Next year it’ll be 16%, then 24% the year after. And the oil price shock won’t do anything good. But unfortunately the Labour Party will get into government next February, so if we’re going to do this, it has to be now. You still want to go ahead?”
“Unless you recommend otherwise, yes.”
“Good. Now, Ed is coming round tomorrow morning to see you.”
Uh oh. “Is he pissed off that I tried to drug his son?”
He shook his head. “No. This will be a serious company-related conversation to be had in the safe room. And there’s one other thing for this week: I need you to think about Operation Red-Rising.”
Wonderful. Another life or death mess to sort through, this time in Ethiopia. “I thought I had another...” I counted through the months, “seven months?”
“We can’t throw this one together at the last minute as we just don’t have the assets there. Our nearest would be in Saudi, but the Red Sea separates Ethiopia. Ideally, I’d like a go or no-go order by the end of this month, partly because you’ve complicated things having Ed join us. We’ll have to cover our tracks about where the initial intel came from.”
I blew out a breath, then admitted, “I didn’t think of that”.
He shrugged. “We’ll get around it. It’s a complication, not a problem. Ed will take charge of the on-the-books resources, but I’m going to keep most of our deniable assets well hidden. Don’t forget what I told you about my level of trust in him.”
“I haven’t.”
I also hadn’t told Dan about my pact with Ed over South Africa, or the leverage it gave me. Secrets are for keeping.
When Sir Edward arrived Monday mid-morning, I showed him into the study, and then into our secret room. I had made sure that the iPad was hidden away. He seemed very interested in the concept of the room but didn’t delay in getting down to business.
“Finn, we have a security breach: a persistent leak at Marvel Tower. We now know for certain that someone has been passing company files to the tabloid press. It’s also possible that information has been going to other places, possibly even the KGB.”
“What!”, I hissed.
“We can’t currently confirm the second part. Dan briefed me on this last week, so it’s now on my desk as I officially started work today. There has been suspicion of something like this for a while, but the first solid evidence came last week from that reporter in Italy. I’m told that you, quite wisely, had the man strip-searched before handing him to the police. Our people found a hotel room key on him, so they turned his room over and found copies of the travel plan produced by your secretary.”
I was horrified. “It can’t be Freya!” I spoke quietly but urgently. “Please tell me it isn’t.”
“Too soon to say either way, but I’ll go as far as saying I think it’s unlikely.”
“Why?”
“For one thing, if it were her, the leaks could have been an awful lot worse. And for another, the first suspected leak was before she started working for you.” That meant this had been going on for more than two years. Ed shrugged it off and continued. “The document in his possession had considerable detail, right down to the names, dates of birth and passport numbers of all your friends who attended. Your secretary had the lead on arranging the trip, but she would have liaised with other departments about travel, security, catering and so on. Several external people would also have received some of the information, but not the full document, so we can rule out the airline, the villa caretaker, and the Italian police.”
“Christ”, I exclaimed. This was bad in all sorts of ways. “How are you going to fix this?”
“I’m going to produce a list of people who had access to the document, then work on narrowing it down.”
“How?”
“The company started a small bank a few months ago. Were you aware?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Dan being a sneaky sod offered your entire staff a cash bonus if they closed their existing bank accounts and moved to us. The majority did. That gives us access to their financial records, so I’m going to follow the money. Our leaker isn’t doing this for free. He or she might not be stupid enough to bank a wad of cash, but we can look for patterns. It’s not hard to spot when a person isn’t spending as much of their salary as they should be. If we find a target, then we set them up for a fall.”
I knew what that meant. It was the classic method of giving someone a unique piece of information and seeing where it ended up.
Monday night, I made a snap decision about what I would do the next day. I was in my Tiger Moth not long after breakfast Tuesday morning, flying up to Donington. Ewan was waiting there (he had driven up late the previous night) and drove me the last stretch up to Sheffield. It was Charlie’s sports day.
I had been due to be in Italy, so my honorary little brother wasn’t expecting me. The look on his face when he saw me was worth the effort of the trip a thousand times over. He came barreling at me for a hug, which surprised me given that his friends were watching. A hug with me was apparently worth surrendering some of his street cred. I was touched. I helped him regain some of his credibility afterwards by engaging him in chatter, jokes and banter with some playful brotherly pushing and shoving back and forth. I had met a few of his friends in previous years, and he introduced me to the rest. One of them asked if I was his brother. Charlie replied, “No. He’s much better than a brother.” I love this kid.
It turned out that Charlie’s mum, Ruth, couldn’t attend because of work, which went some way to explaining his reaction. It also gave him an excuse to dragoon me into the dads’ race. I made him get special permission from his teacher, as I thought (and quietly hoped) I wouldn’t qualify. No such luck. Many parents had better sense than to compete, so they needed everyone they could get. I didn’t win the race — I’ve never been much of a runner — but I was much nearer the front than the back and didn’t embarrass myself or Charlie.
Term didn’t finish till Friday, so when I escaped later that day, it was with the promise that I’d pick him up at the weekend. I stayed the night at Harry’s place, having a boys’ night in, then flew home the next day.
On Wednesday afternoon, I caught Simon sneaking out of Caity’s bedroom after what was presumably a quick after-school fuck. He froze like a deer in headlights. At least he was fully dressed this time. It was actually good to see him. This situation had dragged on long enough.
“My room. March!”
I didn’t leave him much choice but to obey. I closed the door behind us, and we both sat.
“This has got to stop”, I told him.
His face crumpled. “You said it was okay!”
“Of course I did! I also said you didn’t need to sneak around anymore, yet you’ve spent the last three months avoiding me like I’ve got some nasty disease. It’s got to stop! Okay?”
The realisation hit him that this wasn’t about what he thought it was. “Caity thought you were still uncomfortable with us doing it.”
“I am. But I like you, and I miss having you around here, so I’ll just have to get over it. Harry’s moved up north to start a new job, and the rest of my friends are away and soon to go off to university. I’m just left behind. It’s pathetic to admit this because you’re four years younger than me, but I need you and Caity. I might go out of my mind with loneliness otherwise. I’m so sorry I hurt you. Please, will you stop treating me like this?”
I felt quite emotional by the end of that. I had surprised myself with some of what I’d blurted out, but it was all true. I didn’t like being lonely.
Simon did exactly the right thing by lightening the mood. He punched my arm lightly and said, “Mate, you scared the crap out of me! I thought you were banning me from sex. That would have cost me a fortune in tissues!”
I laughed and returned the favour with a slap on the back of his head. “Please tell me you’ve at least invested in some condoms since last time. You can never be too careful, and you don’t want to see what I’d do to you if you got Caity pregnant!”
He smirked. “I have, I promise. Caity has her security buy them for us.”
“Really”, I said sarcastically. “I should drag you down to Boots and make you buy some yourself! Is little Simon afraid of the scary pharmacy lady?”
“Oh God, please don’t: I’d die of embarrassment! Anyway, I have to keep them in Caity’s room. If my mum found them at home, she’d murder me.”
“Why’s that?”, I asked innocently.
“I’m her baby boy. She can’t know I’m having sex! She only lets me come over here because she thinks we’re chaperoned.”
“Hmm, maybe I should call her.”
Simon knew I wouldn’t, but he played along. “So, bestest friend in the world, you call me whenever you want to hang out. I’m all yours.” Then he turned serious. “You need to fix things with Caity. She says it’s been awkward.”
I admitted, “I know. Any suggestions?”
“Let’s go for a swim”, he answered.
“I thought you two liked to skinny-dip?”
“We do. Like I said, you should come for a swim with us. It’ll help you break the ice.”
That was a horrible idea. Nightmarish. I would end up on a psychiatrist’s couch. Or, on the other hand, it might fix the situation. I needed to do that somehow, and I didn’t have any better ideas. God alone knows why, but I agreed.
So the two of us went down the corridor, and I knocked on my sister’s door. “Caity?”
“What!”, came from within.
“Me and Simon are going swimming. You wanna join us?”
A short delay, then she opened the door and looked behind me to her boyfriend. “I thought you’d gone home?”
“Finn stopped me. We’ve been having a good chat.”
She turned her attention to me. “And he’s still alive?”
I put my arm around Simon’s shoulders in an exaggerated show of friendship. “While Harry’s away, Simon’s agreed to be my best friend. We’re going to spend lots of guy-time together. If you want to join us occasionally, that would be okay. I can just about tolerate you.”
I expected an acerbic come-back. Instead, I got a hug. Apparently the situation had been bothering her, too.
“So you’re going to come skinny-dipping with us?” It was as if the two of them had coordinated this.
“Doctor Simon says it’ll help me get over the nightmares I have about you two. But you, young lady, are not allowed to look when I get in the pool! I don’t want you scared by the sight of what a real penis looks like, having only seen a baby one till now.”
“Hey!” Simon punched my arm again, considerably harder this time.
We all laughed, then I said seriously to Caity, “I need to make this right. If this is what it takes, then fine.”
And so we went skinny-dipping. Awkward? Oh my god yes. At least at first. Caity and I kept a healthy distance between us, but Simon, bless him, made every effort to race me, splash me, and wrestle with me with no embarrassment or thought of where our various body parts were. He spent plenty of time being uninhibitedly tactile with Caity too but didn’t allow me the chance to over-think things. It ended up being a lot of fun.
On Thursday, I spent the day with Hugo Tedbury-Smith. He was staying at his dad’s flat, so we picked him up there and went to do a few things that he’d never done with his posh mates. We started at Covent Garden, watching street performers and having a snack lunch. Then we went on a boat tour down the Thames to Tower Bridge, went on HMS Belfast, then took a boat back up the river to Big Ben. The more time I spent with Hugo in ‘ordinary person mode’, the more I liked him. It was as if he was making the most of his time out of a straight-jacket.
We had dinner at a restaurant near Sloane Square in Chelsea, which is where we needed to be for our evening entertainment. I had warned Hugo that the show we were going to see would probably offend his upper-class sensibilities, which he laughed off. I had even checked with his dad, who said it would broaden his horizons. It certainly did that. Mine too. We went to see the Rocky Horror Show at the Royal Court Theatre. This was partly a business trip: I wanted to buy the film rights. But mainly, it was fun. If you’ve never seen the show done live (and have a strong heart), it’s well worth going. Hugo and I went through foot tapping, face-reddening embarrassment at the naughtiness, and the obligatory audience participation in the Time Warp. Neither of us would forget that night in a hurry!
At the end of the show, I approached one of the ushers and handed him a Marvel Studios business card. “Would you be kind enough to go backstage and ask Mister O’Brien if he could spare a minute to talk to me about movie rights?”
The guy goggled at me for a moment, presumably trying to reconcile the job title on the card with my age. In the end, he gave me the benefit of the doubt. A few minutes later I met the great man, who had both written the show and played the hunchback Riff Raff. Hugo and I complimented him, and I told him to call my office any time if he wanted to make a movie version of the show.
Friday was a lazy day until Dan got home, when he updated me on a few minor things. Our football team was gearing up for the new season, having failed to secure election to the league above. And airline orders for Concorde had flat-lined since the crash of the Soviet equivalent at the Paris Air Show the previous month. That, despite us announcing a raft of new safety features designed to prevent a future Paris Concorde crash.
On Saturday morning, I repeated my journey up to Sheffield via East Midlands Airport, except this time I flew a Beagle Pup with Ewan on board instead of the open-air Tiger Moth. The plan for the first week of the summer holiday was to explore our new theme park. There was a hotel and a huge shopping mall at the western edge of the site (with an uncanny resemblance to Bluewater as that end of the site would have been in the future). So on Monday, Charlie, Caity, Simon and myself moved into our hotel rooms and generally explored. Tuesday to Thursday we did every ride, every show, and every attraction that the huge park had to offer. The place had quickly become very popular, and the queues had lengthened accordingly (unless you happened to own the place). It was staggering to see how the designs on paper had translated into a real place that now drew visitors from all over Europe.
We had intended to come home on Friday, but we lost a day thanks to my friends on Fleet Street. The Daily Mirror ran a story on Thursday that I had let my teenage sister share a hotel room with her boyfriend. They basically called her a slut and me an unfit parental figure. They claimed to have contacted social services to suggest they look into the appropriateness of Caity’s home life.
I was livid. I was literally shaking with rage. Ewan took charge, getting us packed up and whisked away before photographers descended or the phones started ringing. Charlie was upset to be leaving early, but I promised we’d go back at least once over the summer.
We got home safely, where Dan and Ed were both waiting along with Simon’s parents and his twin sister. I needed this like a hole in the head, but I had to protect Caity and Simon. “Go upstairs”, I told them, adding to Susan, “You too.”
Simon’s mum loudly announced, “He’s not going anywhere with that ... with that...”
I interrupted her. “Choose your next words very carefully madam! I am not in a tolerant mood, so I might just destroy you as I’m going to destroy the Daily Mirror!” To the kids, “GO!”
Dan thankfully shepherded the parents into the living room, and we all sat, albeit stiffly.
I started. “Forgive me; I’ve forgotten your surname.”
“Caws.”
“Thank you. Now, Mr and Mrs Caws, this is obviously an upsetting situation. Nobody should have their personal life splashed across a newspaper. I’ve suffered this myself when the Sun published that false story about me hitting a kid at school. I assure you we will deal with this.”
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