Muscling In by Lily Harlem

over my shoulder at Ed and Coben.
    Something passed between them.
A look, a frown, an acknowledgment. Coben shook his head very slightly, only
just perceptible. Ed went ahead and filled his glass.
    Fuck!
    Of course.
    They knew each other from the
Air Force. I should have guessed. Ed’s super-secret job…he was special forces.
I’d thought as much but this just confirmed it in my mind. Coben clearly didn’t
want to give the game away about Ed’s elite career, not now that he was out in
civvy street. It wasn’t his place to discuss it. Besides, it was perfectly
possible Ed’s family and friends didn’t know what a dangerous job he had.
    Coben had talked to me about
his decision to leave the RAF. He’d considered special forces himself but
decided against it, preferring to join in the rat race and be his own boss.
He’d had enough of taking orders, he’d said, and wanted to be the one giving
them instead.
    Coben had picked a different
route.
    Ed had taken the dangerous one.
    The dining room was another
grand space with lofty ceilings, dark furniture and a long table set with
elegant cutlery, a pretty summer flower display and expensive-looking
glassware.
    I was directed to a seat next
to Rachel, a pretty young girl of about twenty who had golden skin, the result
of being in Australia, I guessed, and a warm smile.
    As I sat I glanced at the
door, wondering where Coben and Ed were. No doubt catching up on their
situation, discovering the lay of the land and what Mable and Harold knew. I
felt pleased I’d worked it out and would be sure to keep their secret safe.
    They entered the room at the
same time Harold did. He was holding a large plate of lamb that he set in the
center of the table. Mable followed with steaming vegetables.
    Ed and Coben sat opposite
Rachel and I. As Mable fussed over telling us what the sauce was and that
potatoes were on the way, Coben caught my eye.
    “Okay?” I mouthed.
    His face softened a little and
he nodded, took another sip of his drink.
    I glanced at Ed. He had a
little rise of color on his cheeks. He didn’t look quite as cool as he had
earlier when I’d been inking him. He turned from Coben and engaged in a
conversation with Harold about the upcoming general election.
    “Mable told me you’re a tattoo
artist,” Rachel said, helping herself to lamb.
    “Yes, that’s right.” I spread
my napkin on my lap.
    “How did you get into that?”
    “I went to art college in
London.”
    “Oh, me too, but not in
London. I loved it.” She huffed. “Haven’t done much with the qualification yet,
though. There doesn’t seem to be much work around.”
    I smiled. “I hear you. I
struggled to get work in any kind of art job that appealed to me but one day I
dropped off some designs at Dragon’s Ink and the manager, I guess I struck
lucky, said he had an opening for an apprentice.”
    “Cool.” She passed me the fork
to gather meat onto my plate, then dipped into the vegetables with a large
silver spoon.
    “It was. It took a few years.
I was a dogsbody to begin with, and they ripped at me for being a girl, but once
I proved I could design and ink I just became one of the team.”
    “Are you the only girl?”
    “Yes.”
    “And do you have tattoos?” She
glanced down my body as if trying to see through my clothes.
    “No.” I laughed. “I think I’m
the only tattooist in the world that doesn’t have any.” I helped myself to
green beans and glanced at Coben. He was rubbing his temple. “I did a design on
my husband, Coben, though. That’s how I met him.”
    Coben glanced up. He smiled at
Rachel. “I’m sorry, we weren’t introduced.”
    “I know who you are.” She
licked her lips and straightened a little. “Uncle Harold mentioned you’re going
to help him out with his new business venture.”
    “If all goes to plan.” He took
some lamb, then wordlessly passed the fork to Ed.
    Ed piled meat on his plate,
enough to feed several men, before adding the roast potatoes