old buildings around it, the centre consisted of some rather nasty office blocks and shopping complexes and not much else. But when she struck out, there were interesting bits from all sorts of periods: Victorian warehouses, Georgian terraces (Grade Six at least) some Art Deco and even a few good-looking modern buildings. Shame about the sixties office blocks. Bombs or developers, she wondered? Both, probably.
She had some lunch, shopped for an hour or so, then walked back to her flat past the cathedral. She caught a snatch of singing as someone opened the door to go in, and on impulse, followed them.
A man just inside stopped her. ‘Sorry Miss, we’ve just started Evensong.’
‘Can I stay and listen?’
‘Of course you can,’ he said, and indicated the rows of chairs.
She sat near the back. There were perhaps a couple of dozen people scattered through the nave. The voices of the choir, unaccompanied, weaved through the pillars and spaces of the vast building; she didn’t understand what they were singing, just felt completely at peace with it.
The last time she’d been inside a church was at an aunt’s funeral. The hymns had been listlessly sung and meaningless. Here, she felt that the threads of music were somehow connecting her to the previous generation, the one before, the one before that…
It stopped, and someone read from a bible. She couldn’t make out the words. She thought, Why do I do my job ?
She’d told herself when she’d joined the unit that she was helping to clear the dirt away, make the country cleaner. But – and she realised she’d been thinking this for a while – at what cost to herself? How much of the dirt was sticking to her?
In her last major job, she’d infiltrated an environmental group suspected of harbouring an extremist faction. In order to keep her cover intact, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by one of the leaders. And then realised just in time that she really was being seduced, both by Sean and his twisted version of their philosophy.
When she’d told Brigg, he’d said, ‘Most of us go through something like that.’
‘But you don’t know how close I was…’
‘What matters is that you’ve told me now.’ He looked at her and said deliberately, ‘D’you think it’ll ever happen again?’
‘I – no.’
‘Good.’
No , she thought now, no , I won’t let it …
Remembering that the daylight would soon be gone, she quietly left, walked to her flat, then drove to Alan’s address, so that she wouldn’t have any problem finding it in the dark. Also, to get a feel for it…
It was a pleasant semi on the outskirts, a conventional family home. Quite a large garden too, with a large garden shed as well. Did he have a family? She moved on before anyone could notice her.
*
Alan did indeed have a family – when he let her in that evening at seven, she could hear pop music coming from upstairs and the after-smell of the evening meal.
‘Dawn,’ Alan called, ‘come and meet our new treasurer.’
A small, tidy, smiling woman appeared and shook her hand.
‘Alan was so pleased when someone volunteered to take over,’ she said.
‘I beginning to wonder just how awful this job is,’ Rebecca said.
‘Not awful, just boring,’ Alan said.
Dawn said, ‘Why don’t you go into the dining room and I’ll bring you some tea.’ She frowned at the noise from upstairs. ‘Sorry about the row.’
Rebecca didn’t really want tea, but it might extend her time – the prospect of that wasn’t so bad now that she’d met Dawn. She somehow made Alan more bearable.
‘How many children have you got?’ she asked as they went into the dining room.
‘Three. Two have flown the nest – well, at Uni., so we still have them back quite a lot. That one –’ he gestured at the ceiling ‘– is still at school. An afterthought,’ he added, sotto voce .
Yes, definitely more bearable on his own patch.
‘It’s over here,’ he said, moving to the computer
She had some lunch, shopped for an hour or so, then walked back to her flat past the cathedral. She caught a snatch of singing as someone opened the door to go in, and on impulse, followed them.
A man just inside stopped her. ‘Sorry Miss, we’ve just started Evensong.’
‘Can I stay and listen?’
‘Of course you can,’ he said, and indicated the rows of chairs.
She sat near the back. There were perhaps a couple of dozen people scattered through the nave. The voices of the choir, unaccompanied, weaved through the pillars and spaces of the vast building; she didn’t understand what they were singing, just felt completely at peace with it.
The last time she’d been inside a church was at an aunt’s funeral. The hymns had been listlessly sung and meaningless. Here, she felt that the threads of music were somehow connecting her to the previous generation, the one before, the one before that…
It stopped, and someone read from a bible. She couldn’t make out the words. She thought, Why do I do my job ?
She’d told herself when she’d joined the unit that she was helping to clear the dirt away, make the country cleaner. But – and she realised she’d been thinking this for a while – at what cost to herself? How much of the dirt was sticking to her?
In her last major job, she’d infiltrated an environmental group suspected of harbouring an extremist faction. In order to keep her cover intact, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by one of the leaders. And then realised just in time that she really was being seduced, both by Sean and his twisted version of their philosophy.
When she’d told Brigg, he’d said, ‘Most of us go through something like that.’
‘But you don’t know how close I was…’
‘What matters is that you’ve told me now.’ He looked at her and said deliberately, ‘D’you think it’ll ever happen again?’
‘I – no.’
‘Good.’
No , she thought now, no , I won’t let it …
Remembering that the daylight would soon be gone, she quietly left, walked to her flat, then drove to Alan’s address, so that she wouldn’t have any problem finding it in the dark. Also, to get a feel for it…
It was a pleasant semi on the outskirts, a conventional family home. Quite a large garden too, with a large garden shed as well. Did he have a family? She moved on before anyone could notice her.
*
Alan did indeed have a family – when he let her in that evening at seven, she could hear pop music coming from upstairs and the after-smell of the evening meal.
‘Dawn,’ Alan called, ‘come and meet our new treasurer.’
A small, tidy, smiling woman appeared and shook her hand.
‘Alan was so pleased when someone volunteered to take over,’ she said.
‘I beginning to wonder just how awful this job is,’ Rebecca said.
‘Not awful, just boring,’ Alan said.
Dawn said, ‘Why don’t you go into the dining room and I’ll bring you some tea.’ She frowned at the noise from upstairs. ‘Sorry about the row.’
Rebecca didn’t really want tea, but it might extend her time – the prospect of that wasn’t so bad now that she’d met Dawn. She somehow made Alan more bearable.
‘How many children have you got?’ she asked as they went into the dining room.
‘Three. Two have flown the nest – well, at Uni., so we still have them back quite a lot. That one –’ he gestured at the ceiling ‘– is still at school. An afterthought,’ he added, sotto voce .
Yes, definitely more bearable on his own patch.
‘It’s over here,’ he said, moving to the computer
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