know I’d be good,’ Charlie said. ‘But I can’t just set up on my own. I don’t know anything about it. I’d need some training. You’re the best teacher I ever had. If I was going into something like that, I’d want to work for you.’
‘From what you tell me, I don’t think your new family would approve.’
‘I’d tell them I was a security consultant. It can’t be as dangerous as what we’ve seen in the regiment, can it?’
Ben said nothing. Both their glasses were empty, and the sun was beating down. He poured out the last of the champagne and set the bottle down with a heavy clunk of glass on concrete. ‘Problem is, I can’t help you,’ he said. ‘If I could, I would. But I’m out. Retired. I’m sorry.’
‘Retired? Really?’
Ben nodded. It had been his promise to her, the day she’d said she would marry him. ‘Since the end of last year. It’s all over for me.’
Charlie sank back against the steps of the gazebo, deflating. ‘You have any contacts?’
Ben shook his head. ‘I never did. I always worked alone. Everything was strictly word of mouth.’ He finished his drink. ‘Like I said. If it’s money I can help.’
‘I can’t take money from you,’ Charlie said. ‘Rhonda can ask her folks to bail us out any time, and they probably would. But we see this as our responsibility. Our problem. We need to deal with it ourselves. I was just hoping –’
‘I’m sorry. There’s really no way.’
Charlie grimaced with disappointment. ‘But if you hear of anything going, you’ll let me know?’
‘I would, but it won’t happen. I told you, I’m out of it.’
Charlie sighed again. ‘I’m sorry I brought this up.’ He paused a long time, watching the people dancing and having fun in the distance. ‘So what are you going to do next?’
‘I’m going back to Oxford. I’m heading there right after this. I’ve already rented a flat there.’
‘What’s in Oxford?’
‘The University,’ Ben said. ‘I’m going there to study.’
‘You, a student? To do what?’
‘To finish what I started before I went crazy and joined the army almost twenty years ago. Theology.’
Charlie’s eyes opened wide. ‘Theology? You want to be a priest?’
Ben smiled. ‘Reverend. Once upon a time, that’s all I wanted to be. Seemed like the perfect life.’
‘So you went off to war instead. Makes sense.’
‘Sometimes things don’t work out the way you think,’ Ben said. ‘It just happened that way. Now I’ve come full circle. The time is right for me. They let me back in to finish my course. One year to go, then I can start thinking about entering the Church, just like I’d planned years ago.’ He slapped his hands on his knees. ‘So that’s it.’
Charlie was staring at him in disbelief. ‘You’re kidding me. You’re winding me up.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘This just doesn’t seem like you. I still have this image of you – that time with the tank, in the desert? We were pinned under fire, you only had three rounds left. I’ve never seen anything like it. Guys in the regiment, guys who never met you, still talk about it –’
‘Well, I don’t want to talk about it,’ Ben said, cutting him off. ‘Whatever I did in the past, whatever I was or wanted to be, that’s finished. I’m tired, Charlie. I’m thirty-eight years old and all I’ve ever known is violence and killing. I want a life of peace.’
‘A dog collar and a little cottage, with a Bible in your hand.’
Ben nodded. ‘That’s it. About as far away from the past as I can get.’
‘I can’t see it.’
‘Maybe I’ll surprise you.’
‘I should have waited a while,’ Charlie said. He laughed. ‘You could have married us.’
They hadn’t noticed Rhonda striding across the lawn towards them. They stood up as she approached. She was tall and slender, with reddish hair that looked as though she’d coloured it with henna. She had a stud in her nose. A bohemian kind of look that contrasted with the high heels and the expensive dress she was wearing. She was pretty, but Ben thought he could see a hardened look behind the eyes. There was suspicion in them as Charlie introduced her to him.
‘Heard all about you,’ she said, looking him up and down. ‘Major Benedict Hope. The wild one. I know all the stories. Really impressed.’
‘I’m not Major Hope. I’m just Ben. Forget the stories.’
‘Well, Ben, I suppose you’re here to talk my husband into joining you on some –’
‘I invited him here,’ Charlie said. ‘Remember?’
She looked up hotly at Ben. ‘I don’t want him getting mixed up in anything dangerous.’
‘I’m the last person who would get him into any kind of danger,’ Ben said. ‘You can trust me on that.’
She snorted. ‘Yeah, right. Now, can I have my husband back, please? And someone over there wants to meet you.’
Ben followed the direction of her pointing finger and his gaze landed on a stunningly attractive woman standing over by the marquee. She was waving coyly, smiling in their direction.
‘That’s Mandy Latham,’ Rhonda said. ‘Her parents own half of Shropshire. Deliciously nouveau riche – even worse than my lot. Winters at Verbier, drives a Lambo. She’s been asking me who the gorgeous, tall, blond, blue-eyed guy with Charlie is.’
‘He’s going to be a priest,’ Charlie said.
‘Why don’t you go and ask her to dance?’ Rhonda snapped at Ben.
‘Rhonda –,’ Charlie started.
‘I don’t dance,’ Ben said. He smiled at Charlie. ‘Nice party. See you around.’ He walked away.
‘You’ll phone me, then?’ Charlie called after him.
Ben didn’t answer him. He made his way back across the lawn, placed his empty glass on the table at the marquee. He looked at his watch. Mandy Latham approached him, slinky in a shimmering blue silk dress that matched her shining eyes. ‘Hi,’ she said tentatively. ‘I’m Mandy. Were you really Charlie’s commanding officer in the SAS?’
‘You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,’ Ben said. ‘Great to meet you, Mandy. I have to go now.’
He left her staring after him as he walked away.
Summertown, Oxford That afternoon
Professor Tom Bradbury shut the front door behind him, put down his old briefcase and laid his car keys on the oak stand in the hall next to the vase of flowers.
The house was quiet. He hadn’t expected it to be. Zoë should be home today, and her presence was always made noticeable by the hard rock soundtrack that she insisted on blaring at full volume from the living-room hi-fi.
Bradbury wandered through to the airy kitchen. The patio windows were open, and the scents of the garden were wafting through the room. Remembering the half-finished bottle of Pinot Grigio from the night before, he opened the fridge. Inside was a freshly prepared dish of chocolate mousse, Zoë’s favourite