Blindside

By Wilna Adriaanse

South Africa has a rich and varied criminal community. The Italians with their mafia connections, the Chinese triads, the Nigerians, the Russians, Koreans, Indians . . . not to mention all the homegrown felons. Still grieving following the death of her dad, her guiding light and an honest cop if ever there was one, Ellie McKenna accepts a mission to infiltrate Cape Town’s dark criminal underbelly. She knows full well that in her line of work the brave often end up dead . . . blindsided by a faceless enemy. Wilna Adriaanse’s Blindside is the first of her novels to be translated into English, soon to be followed by its sequel, Endgame.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tafelberg
• Release date: Mar 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780624086475

Wilna Adriaanse

Wilna Adriaanse is in 1958 in die Kalahari gebore en het op Worcester grootgeword. Haar bekendste boeke is Met ander woorde (2006), Vier seisoene kind (2010) en Dubbelspel (2014). Sy het haar MA-graad in skeppende skryfwerk aan die UK voltooi, en daaruit spruit haar roman ’n Klein lewe (2012). Sy verdeel tans haar tyd tussen Botswana en die Boland.

Book preview

BLINDSIDE

WILNA ADRIAANSE

Translated by Elsa Silke

Tafelberg

For Deon

CHAPTER 1

Tuesday morning, 24 September 2013.

Mac, what are you doing here?

Lieutenant Ellie McKenna of the Crime Intelligence Division raised herself slightly from her seat at the back of the room. I want to help.

The room went quiet, except for the odd cough here and there.

Brigadier Ibrahim Ahmed, head of the Serious Economic Offences Unit in the Western Cape, shook his head. Bad idea, Mac. As you well know.

Captain Greyling said I could …

Not his call to make. His eyes searched the room. "Where is he, by the way?"

He phoned to say he’s stuck in traffic; there’s been an accident, but he’s on his way, someone replied.

Mac, go home. Your mother needs you.

Ahmed peered at Ellie over the rim of his reading glasses. The bags under his eyes were distinctly less noticeable a week or two ago, Ellie thought. Actually, he didn’t look too bad for a man approaching sixty. His black hair showed no signs of grey. There were whispers behind his back that he dyed it. He was a neat man, his posture erect. Proud. He was tall and lean and she’d heard the guys who work with him say he was remark­ably fit for a man who spent most of his time behind a desk these days.

He was my father. How would you feel if it was one of your family members, Brigadier? She was on her feet now, and the room went even quieter.

Same as you, I guess, but I hope I’d have the brains to listen to good advice.

It wasn’t a random shooting, and if you give me access to his files, I’ll prove it.

We don’t know what it was yet. That’s why I want you out of here now, so we can get on with our job.

And I’m telling you I can help, Brigadier. I know the people who may be involved.

He shook his head again. Not gonna happen. And I won’t say it again.

I have a right to know.

The minute we arrest someone, you’ll know. But until then, I don’t want you near this case. Understood?

Ellie saw the eyes in the room moving from one side to the other, like spectators at a tennis match. I won’t get in the way. I’m good at my job and I know where to look.

Mac, if you don’t excuse yourself right now, I’ll call your commanding officer and tell her you’re interfering in a case. And if she can’t make you change your mind, I’ll personally have you locked up until we’re done. Don’t think I won’t do it.

Ellie picked up her handbag and headed for the door.

And if I hear you’ve been talking to anyone, I’ll make sure you lose your badge.

She opened the door, turned at the last moment. For the record, I think this is bullshit. She closed the door with a resounding click.

Outside, she took a few deep breaths, got into her car and switched on the engine. Instinctively her eyes searched for his vehicle among the others in the parking lot, but his space was empty.

That was why she put off going to bed at night. Every morning there was a moment when she tried to convince herself it had just been a terrible nightmare. Before she was forced to face the awful truth. It was like pulling off a scab every morning.

She couldn’t bring herself to drive back to her parents’ home in Goodwood, but she couldn’t face her own place either. She drove around aimlessly for a while, then called Melissa.

Where are you?

Tyger Valley shopping centre. What’s up?

Do you have time for coffee?

Sure, where? Mugg & Bean?

No, somewhere quieter. They agreed on a place where Melissa would wait for her.

Melissa Calitz and Ellie had been friends since 1994, when Melissa and her family had moved to Ellie’s neighbourhood. Both fourteen at the time, they had been inseparable ever since. Written matric together, gone on to study psychology at Stellenbosch University together. Been roommates in res. Enrolled for their honours degrees together. Both had been selected to do a master’s degree, Ellie in clinical psychology, Melissa in counselling psychology. Shared digs and dated two friends, Antonie Calitz and Chris Moolman.

Melissa and Antonie were married now. Antonie was a physician in Durbanville. Chris broke off the engagement three months before the wedding. That was six years ago, when Ellie was twenty-six. He was an engineer, and she’d run into him every now and then at the shops. The last time he had introduced her to his fiancée.

Melissa frowned and her jaw dropped slightly when Ellie walked into the restaurant.

What the hell have you done to your hair? she asked as Ellie slid into the opposite seat.

Dyed it darker.

I can see that. I just don’t understand why.

You dye your hair.

Melissa shook her head. You can’t compare the two of us. My hair is a mousy brown. It’s a bloody shame for you to dye your hair. I always thought you liked the fact that you inherited your dad’s mop of strawberry-blond hair.

Ellie took a packet of sugar from the container in the middle of the table and began to twirl it between her fingers.

I don’t want to be reminded of him every time I look in the mirror.

Melissa took her hand across the table. Sweetie, dyeing your hair won’t do any good. You’re the spitting image of your old man. Pale eyes, cheekbones, wide mouth … the lot. What do you plan to do about that?

Ellie shrugged. I had to start somewhere. Dyeing my hair was the cheapest option.

Why are you hanging around here? I thought you were with your mom, Melissa said.

A waiter approached and they ordered an espresso and a cappuccino.

My aunt took her to the hair salon. I was at the office.

To do what?

Offer my help. They won’t listen to me, but I know it wasn’t a random attack.

You mean he was targeted?

Not necessarily, but it wasn’t just some trigger-happy lowlife. There’s a syndicate involved, and that’s why they should let me help. I know everyone who operates in the Western Cape and most in the rest of the country as well.

Their coffee arrived and Ellie put two sugars in hers. Stirred distractedly. Ahmed sent me home, said he doesn’t want me near the case.

I agree with him. You can’t be involved.

He was my dad. He would have done it for me. The spoon clattered into the saucer.

Melissa took Ellie’s hand across the table again. Sweetie, you haven’t even buried your dad yet. Give yourself a chance to breathe, at least, before you start looking for the perpetrators.

Do you have any idea what chaos our intelligence is in at the moment? The ones still sticking it out try their best, but they’re snowed under. If I can’t help, then I don’t know who can.

I hear you. But you need to believe that there are enough people who really want to solve this case. It’s time to step away.

Ellie motioned to the waiter to bring her another cup of coffee.

On any given day of the week there are about five hundred crime syndicates at work in this country, she continued as if Melissa hadn’t spoken. Everyone thinks they’re busy with their own shit, but it’s all interconnected, and almost impossible to unravel. I’ve been doing this job for four years. If anyone knows how to do it, it’s me.

Bury your dad first. If you still want to help afterwards, I’m sure no one will stop you. Melissa sat back in her chair. How’s your mom?

Ellie shrugged. Not really talking to me.

I’ll pick you up tomorrow.

Thanks, but it’s out of your way. I’ll see you at the church.

Is everything under control? Anything I can do for you?

I don’t really know. Someone phoned to ask how many people we’re expecting. The congregation takes care of the tea and sandwiches after the service. How should I know how many people are going show up? It’s not like we’re selling tickets.

They just want a rough estimate.

I wonder if I’m going to get my mom there tomorrow. Ellie tapped her spoon against the saucer. Maybe I should stay away too. It’s not like he’ll know I’m not there.

Have you got something you can take?

The doctor gave my mom some tablets. Maybe I’ll take one or two. She looked at her watch, took money from her purse and put it on the table.

Thanks for the chat.

Melissa got up as well and gave Ellie a hug. Call me if you need me. Or if you want me to come over.

Ellie nodded and kissed her cheek.

When Albert phoned just after nine, Ellie was in bed. After leaving Melissa, she had driven back to Goodwood slowly and was glad to see that her mom was not home. She still couldn’t bring herself to go inside, so she stayed outside on the stoep. Douglas, her dad’s eight-year-old Irish terrier, lay down at her feet. After a while her mom came back and went straight to her room. When Ellie went in a while later to tell her supper was ready, she didn’t react.

I hear you and Ahmed had a scrap today. What were you doing there? Albert asked.

You promised I could help.

I didn’t say you could sit in on meetings. Or piss Ahmed off.

Well, what was I supposed to do?

I said I’d speak to Ahmed first. I know how to handle him.

Ellie sighed. I don’t have time for games. My dad’s been killed and you expect me to sit on the sidelines and watch you looking in all the wrong places while the trail gets even colder? Think again.

You make it sound like we’re a bunch of incompetent idiots who don’t know our arses from our elbows.

You know that’s not what I said. What pisses me off is that, if it was one of your own people or one of Ahmed’s people, you would have been at the head of the pack and no one would have stopped you.

"First of all, if it had been my dad I might have offered the shooter a reward, and secondly, you know the drill. It’s like allowing a doctor to operate on his wife or kids, Mac. The chances of a fuck-up are just too big."

Talk to Ahmed anyway.

I’ll see what I can do. I’ll do my best to be there tomorrow, but if we get a break in the case, we’ll have to move quickly.

Do what you can.

Are you okay?

Ellie looked up at the patterns the streetlights made on the ceiling. Yes, I’m okay.

There was a moment’s silence before Albert spoke again.

Did you hear about the shooting last night at one of Alexei Barkov’s houses in Milnerton? The place was blown to pieces. Two dead. The uniform guys were first on the scene. They found a prostitute in the bath. Took cover there when the shooting began. It probably saved her life.

Any witnesses? Ellie was glad he had changed the subject. The two of them had never been great at personal conversations.

What do you think? People turn a blind eye these days, especially in that kind of neighbourhood. No one ever sees a thing.

I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. A good few people are not at all happy that Barkov has expanded his operations to Cape Town.

I know. I wish they’d rather target Barkov himself. At least we’d be rid of him.

They talked about the shooting some more. When it went quiet between them, Ellie said goodnight.

She had met Albert Greyling six months after Chris had broken off their engagement. He had worked on a case with her dad. Initially she’d just been flattered, she suspected, because he’d paid attention to her. He was an attractive man. Tousled blond hair, toned body.

Chris had been like her. Organised, a list-maker. Dependable. There was never drama with him. His parents were quiet people who went to church on Sundays and lay side by side in bed at night, reading. The exact opposite of what she was used to in her own home. His home was like an oasis. She could always predict how Chris would react. There were no surprises. She could see herself growing old with him. She wanted to have his babies one day. But he decided the risk was too great. She might turn into her mother. What could she say? How could you promise someone you’d never be like your mother? When that was the fear you lived with every day?

Albert didn’t care who or what her mother was. He was no stranger to domestic chaos. Drama didn’t faze him. Today she knew that a complex, impulsive personality lurked beneath the casual demeanour. Yet, in a way, it was still easy. He would sometimes jokingly suggest she move in with him. She suspected he was testing her, more than anything else. At thirty-four, he valued his independence. He was the eldest child in a complicated family. His father had been an alcoholic and at some point everyone in the family had felt his fists. Both his parents had died a few years ago. First his mother, then his father. He didn’t attend his father’s funeral; neither did his two brothers. He seemed to have laid his ghosts to rest. His easy smile gave the impression that he was happy most of the time, but if you got to know him well, you learnt that some demons weren’t exorcised so easily.

Her own parents had had an intense relationship, and though children never really know what happens behind closed doors, she felt sure that when they had made love it had been unrestrained and passionate, just like their arguments.

At twenty-four, her dad had come to visit his cousin in South Africa. One night he spotted the lovely young Rika at a dance hall and fell so in love with her that he never went back home – he just wrote his parents a letter.

Sometime during her teenage years Ellie had grown afraid of such an all-consuming relationship.

Relationships aren’t shoes, they shouldn’t be too comfortable, John McKenna liked to say. Not between friends, and not between lovers. Love should be complicated. Challenging.

She remained unconvinced. In a way she supposed Albert was more of a challenge than Chris. On the other hand, theirs was an easy relationship because they asked so little of each other.

Her dad and Albert had not seen eye to eye. Neither of them ever mentioned it, but she knew. She had always meant to ask her dad about it one day. Now it was too late. For all the other questions she had meant to ask, too.

She fetched her laptop and got back into bed. There had to be a clue somewhere.

She opened five folders, resizing them so that they all fitted on­to the screen. Alexei Barkov. Forty-five-year-old Russian. Enzio Allegretti. Fiendishly attractive at thirty-six, and a ladies’ man. Yuang Mang. A diminutive Chinese, aged fifty-five, according to official documentation, and ranking second in seniority among the five. The Nigerian Abua Jonathan was forty-eight, and Nazeem Williams sixty-four. All of them notorious for different reasons. She had been investigating the five of them for the past eighteen months.

A sudden thought struck her. What if her dad’s shooting was linked to her investigation? Goosebumps prickled on her arms. She felt sick.

CHAPTER 2

Ellie wished her mother would cry. Wet, noisy sobs, instead of the quiet sniffling next to her in the pew. She was dry-eyed too, but at least she wasn’t sniffling.

You could smell from a distance that her mother had been drinking, even though she had promised not to. She should probably have taken better care of her mom, but it had just been too much trouble.

You must look after your mom, she heard her dad’s voice say, and she looked at the coffin at the front of the church. She can’t help it. She’s not doing it on purpose, was always his excuse. And you’re all she’s got now, he continued in her thoughts. He had spoken to her a few times recently about the day he might no longer be around. Had he had a premonition, or had he just wanted to make sure she understood that she was responsible for her mother?

Why didn’t we bury him out of a normal church? her mom asked under her breath. I don’t understand a word of what’s going on.

This was his church, Ellie whispered back.

Why is he sprinkling water on the cloth over the coffin as if it’s ironing that needs dampening?

Mom, it doesn’t matter.

Her mother sniffed again. Lord, how could he do this to me?

There was movement around them and Ellie knelt.

Behind her, her mom whispered: My knee hurts, I’m not going to kneel.

God of all consolation, help us to comfort one another in our grief, finding light in time of darkness, and faith in time of doubt. Father Frank went quiet and Ellie sat down beside her mother again.

She had never understood why people took sedatives to get through a funeral. Now she realised it was because she had never been one of the mourners in the front pews. In the cheap seats at the back it was easy; here, it was another matter. It’s not like you wanted to be in the front row; you only realised the price of these seats the day you sat here. The view from here was totally different. There was no one between you and the coffin. And behind the coffin you saw the reverend, priest, or pastor’s mouth move, but nothing he said made any sense. Nothing eased the pain. No words calmed the tremor inside. She suspected it was that tremor that made one grab the pills, or a glass of something. If you could just get through the service without people hearing your teeth chatter. That was why the older generation had so many children, she decided. For this day. There was strength in numbers.

Lord, for your faithful people life is changed, not ended. When the body of our earthly dwelling lies in death we gain an everlasting dwelling place in heaven.

She heard the people behind them say Amen, but the word stuck in her throat.

The church looked and smelled familiar. As a child she often came here with her dad. To her mom’s chagrin. Not that her mom was a regular churchgoer herself; usually she just dropped Ellie off at Sunday school and fetched her later.

It was nicer to come here with her dad. There were statues and candles, rituals, fascinating to a child. He never spoke to her mom about church and religion, but one day Ellie asked him why churches look so different, and he told her about Martin Luther.

She remembered she had asked what symbolism was. And who was right.

He had scratched his head as he always did when he tried to explain something, or thought deeply. It’s just man’s way of making things easier for himself. Religion is difficult as it is. You can probably compare it to a car. Some drive a Mercedes, others a BMW. Both drivers believe theirs is the better car, but if they drive carefully, they’ll both arrive at their destination.

After that, Ellie had paid more attention to people’s cars.

Today the candles couldn’t warm her and the familiar faces on the walls stared back at her dispassionately. As if they wanted to say, today we can’t help you. She had never been this cold before, and couldn’t wait for the service to end. But Manie Ferreira, an old friend and colleague of her father’s, still had to deliver the eulogy.

He walked slowly to the microphone and planted his legs slightly apart. He put on his reading glasses and looked over the frame at the mourners.

This is a hard day for me. As much as I like talking about John McKenna, I wish I didn’t need to today. I knew him for more than twenty years, and for most of that time we were partners. He swallowed. If I hadn’t been a year his senior I wouldn’t have been retired, and I’d probably have been with him last week. And I wouldn’t have needed to stand here today. Or that’s what I keep telling myself.

He looked at Ellie and her mom. We know how much we’re going to miss him, so we also know how big your loss is.

Ellie listened as he spoke about her dad’s good qualities. Shared the odd anecdote. Thanked people on behalf of the family. She wrapped her arms around herself and thought of the newspaper headlines.

Veteran cop dies in hail of bullets at roadblock, the lampposts had announced the news the next morning. Alternated with Boks ready for Lions. On the next lamppost: President must explain again. Ordinary people did not get their names on lampposts. Only if your name was Steve or Joost or Julius could you expect to see it there. Otherwise, you remained an anonymous cop.

She rubbed her arms again. The bloody cold wouldn’t go away, and she was glad when the formalities were over at last and they could go outside. As she was leaving the church, she tried not to look at the organist. Her father had liked to stand in as organist. He came from a musical family. Put an instrument in their hands and they’d be playing it before long. She had liked to come along when he’d played the organ.

When she walked out into the sun, she put on her sunglasses. It had rained almost all of the previous week, but today was cloudless. The September sun was pale, yet it burned her cold skin. Somewhere a dog was barking and a lorry’s brakes hissed. The pepper trees in front of the church were green and dense and the birdsong was almost deafening. She wondered how the day could be so bright. Inside the gloomy church she had imagined that the sun had disappeared for a moment. Even if it was just behind a cloud.

May angels lead you into paradise; upon your arrival, may the martyrs receive you and lead you to the holy city of Jerusalem … Father Frank’s voice accompanied the coffin outside. When the hearse pulled away, with the coffin inside, they walked with the rest of the mourners to the adjoining parish hall. Ellie’s mother was still sniffing softly.

Inside the hall people approached them to sympathise.

Such a good man …

We’ll miss him in the choir …

It must be an enormous shock to you …

And with retirement so near …

He was going to play at my funeral one day.

The expressions of condolence were interspersed with remarks about her dark hair. After a while she felt tempted to say something inappropriate. You’d swear she was the only person on earth who’d ever dyed her hair.

Ellie listened and nodded occasionally. Shook her head when it was called for. She heard her mother’s thin voice by her side and smelled the conflict between the alcohol and the peppermints on her breath. She hoped someone would bring her mom some tea.

I can’t believe he did it to me. But like my mother said all those years ago, he’s not of our church. If only I had listened then.

The listeners made appropriate noises and Rika McKenna sniffed loudly and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.

Ellie excused herself and fetched her mom a cup of tea and a sandwich. Her mother’s hands trembled when she took the cup, but Ellie was relieved to see her drink it thirstily and eat a piece of the bread.

Her father’s colleagues stood huddled against a wall. They looked awkward, as if they didn’t belong there. She was surprised to see how many of her own colleagues had come. They came over in groups to speak to her. Shook her hand. Brigadier Andile Zondi, her commanding officer, put her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. Clive Barnard, her captain, hugged her briefly, clumsily. Clive turned forty last year but today the deep lines beside his mouth made him look older.

She looked around for Albert, but didn’t see him anywhere. She wasn’t too surprised. His mother’s funeral had probably been the first and last funeral he had ever attended.

When Melissa offered to fetch her some tea, she declined. She knew what she needed, and it wasn’t tea and a sandwich.

Melissa linked her arm through hers and they stood like that quietly. If anyone knew how she was trembling inside, it was Melissa.

Are you going home tonight?

No, I’ll sleep at her place again.

Want me to come with you?

Ellie smiled. "Maybe you should go, and I’ll sleep with Antonie and the kids."

Maybe I should come and sleep at your place, and we’ll send your mom to Antonie and the kids. I don’t know who I’d feel sorrier for.

Slowly the sympathisers thinned out. Ellie had to stop herself from sighing with relief when only Father Frank remained. She kissed his cheek.

Thank you, Father. I’m sorry you had to do this – it couldn’t have been easy, but there was nobody else I could ask. Ellie smiled. Not that I had a choice. He always said that it had to be you, or just a cremation without any ceremony. End of story.

The grey-haired man took her hands in his own. I am very sad, and even a little angry with my friend, but I would have been hurt if you hadn’t asked me. I promised him long ago that if this day came and I was still around, I would do this for him. He could have made it easier by not dying, but then again, he was never a man for making things easy.

Ellie nodded. Tell me something I don’t know.

He turned to her mom and took both her hands in his own. He loved you very much.

Rika McKenna made what sounded like a grunt and Ellie hurriedly said goodbye.

Where are we going now? her mother wanted to know when they were in the car.

I’m going to drop you off at home. Aunt Vera will stay with you. I have to go, but I’ll see you a bit later.

I know you’re going to Joe’s. Why can’t I come?

Please don’t bury me with tea and coffee, her father had written in a letter that he had put in a partly faded envelope along with his will. At the back of my sock drawer in my wardrobe you’ll find money – take the guys to Joe’s for a round or two on me.

The money had been there, and Ellie had wondered when he had put it there. Whether he had added to it over the years, as things became more expensive.

It’s been a long day. You and I can go sometime, but not today.

At home, her aunt and uncle were making tea in the kitchen, still in their funeral best.

Come and have a cup of tea, Aunt Vera said.

Ellie saw her mother licking her lips and knew she wasn’t going to stick to tea, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.

CHAPTER 3

Joe’s was crowded when Ellie arrived. The pub was one street from Durban Road, just before you crossed the N1 from the Bellville side. It was a popular watering hole, and many police officers stopped there on their way home from work. The voices quietened down a bit when she walked in. Those who hadn’t attended the funeral remarked on her darker hair. Ellie shrugged.

Joe came out from behind the counter and took her hands. I’m glad to see you survived the day.

His hands closed firmly around hers. In his mid-sixties, he was still a strong man. He had been a wrestler in his younger days and it was still evident in his build. It’s just the hair that hadn’t lasted. He was almost completely bald, except for a thin strip of grey around the back of his head.

Ellie shook her head. The day’s not over yet.

Someone touched her shoulder and she turned to find Brigadier Ibrahim Ahmed standing behind her.

She nodded stiffly. Brigadier.

It was a fitting farewell. When she didn’t answer, he touched her arm. The two of us can sort out our differences another day. Now isn’t the time. Let’s say goodbye to him the way he would have wanted.

She nodded. I appreciate your being here.

He cleared his throat and rapped on the bar counter. Could we have some quiet for a moment, please? He motioned at a few youngsters at the back of the room who had started talking again. Shut up back there. He turned to Ellie. Mac, we don’t have words, and I don’t actually have the faintest idea what to say, except that it was a privilege to know him. And to work with him. With that man behind you, you never had to look over your shoulder. His death is a great loss to all of us. I suppose we could say that, given a choice, it was how he would have wanted to go, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s hard enough when any innocent person is taken out like that, but it’s doubly hard when it’s one of our own. He stopped for a moment and when he spoke again his voice was thin. To the Irishman. He raised his glass.

There was a loud Hear, hear! and then one of the younger men spoke. Everything I know about police work I learnt from John McKenna.

Hawu, man, he could chew your ear off if you fucked up, a young black man said from the front of the room. But he was straight as an arrow. You always knew where you stood with him.

Remember that night we were going to raid that house in Bonteheuwel? a colleague of many years joined in. We worked on it for months, everything was in place, and then he got a feeling that something wasn’t right. Hell, the guys were furious.

Yes, but we were more scared of the Irishman’s sixth sense than of the devil himself. No one fucked with it. None of the profiling textbooks come close to that man’s eye and instincts.

Ellie let them carry on. Allowed each one to reminisce and say his piece as they stood shoulder to shoulder. When they walked out of there they would take their private fears home with them, and the knowledge that it could have been them. Her own words stuck in her throat.

She was exhausted and drank deeply from the glass Joe had put in her hand. She hadn’t eaten all day and felt the whisky drop straight into her stomach, where it burned.

What did he always say when he had his first glass in his hand? someone called out to her.

May your glass be ever full, may the roof over your head be always strong, and may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead, she called back, and everyone laughed.

She raised her glass. Here’s to you, old man. I hope you took the devil by surprise.

Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, her dad’s cousin began to sing. Before long his four old friends had joined in and were belting out the words.

When they got to the second verse, Ellie sang along.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying, and I am dead, as dead I well may be, you’ll come and find the place where I am lying and kneel and say an ‘Ave’ there for me.

What a cliché, she thought. It wasn’t even one of her father’s favourite songs, yet gradually her voice petered out. When the last notes had faded away, she motioned to Joe. With her glass replenished, she made her way back to Ahmed.

Have you had something to drink, Brigadier?

He lifted his glass. My wife says all this Coke is going to eat up my insides, but man cannot live on water alone. How’s your mother?

As well as can be. Heaven knows what my dad was thinking, leaving me alone with her.

He shook his head. Why do you sound so angry? It’s not like he had any say in the matter.

I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it. Why was he there at all? He had trained his people well. Why couldn’t he trust them to put up a roadblock?

If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else.

The thought had crossed her mind, but she had quickly pushed it aside. If she pursued that line of thought, she’d have to offer up someone else’s life in exchange for his, and she knew, if she identified the person by name, she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

Ahmed sighed. You’re young. You still need to learn that sometimes you do things you can’t explain, but you know it’s the right decision at the time.

Ellie felt the whisky start taking the edge off the day. Do you like lasagne?

He shook his head. Not particularly.

I was going to ask you to follow me home and take some with you. I wonder why everyone thinks of lasagne as comfort food.

Before she could continue, she felt someone kiss her neck. She didn’t turn around.

Sorry, babes, I couldn’t get away sooner. There was some trouble. Afternoon, Brigadier.

Greyling.

Albert put his arm around Ellie’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. I’m genuinely sorry. I tried …

Hey, Greyling … someone called from the bar before he could say anything more.

Yo, my bro, pass something along, man. I’m dying of thirst here, he called back over her head.

Mac, leave the guy so he can come and have a drink with us.

Ellie motioned with her head. Go.

He gave her a wide-eyed grin. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Can I bring you something? Brigadier, a refill?

I must go.

Babes?

Ellie shook her head. I must get home too, before my mom kicks Vera and her husband out.

Will I see you tonight?

I don’t think so. We’ll talk later.

He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her lips. I’d really like to see you.

She and Ahmed walked out together. It was slow going – everyone wanted to say goodbye. Clive touched her shoulder in passing. Joe came out from behind