Read Online THE HEART OF DANGER by Gerald Seymour - Free Book Online
Authors: Gerald Seymour
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were a good little team, but
needing
young legs and young eyes and a guy prepared to sit through the
bread-and-butter crap .. But it wasn't bread-and-butter crap they
were
celebrating in the pub, with Penn buying the drinks, it was a hell
of a
good overseas contract, with money going half share to the partners
..
. Penn felt quiet satisfaction, because Basil was almost jealous,
and
Jim couldn't quite hide the envy, and Henry didn't seem too cheerful.
Penn was reaching for their glasses, and none of them was shouting
that
it was his round. Penn said, "Actually, she's quite a decent woman
..." "Bollocks, she's a punter." "Daily rate, plus per them expenses,
plus Club-class flights." "Half the daily rate up front, per them expenses in your greasy hand for a clear week before you go, and that
doesn't include the hotel of your choice." Penn said, "Pity is that her daughter was a right little tosser .. ." He scooped up the
glasses
42
and headed for the bar. Two pints of best bitter, an orange juice,
and
Penn was taking low alcohol because when he was shot of them he would
be going back to the office over the launderette and he would be typing
up the finances and faxing them down to the Manor House on the Surrey/
Sussex border, and then he would be going home to Jane, and hoping
to
God, some hope, that the baby slept hard .. . and hoping to God, some
hope, that Jane wasn't flat on her back with exhaustion ... It was
going sour with Jane, not solicitors and courts stage, just going
stale, and he did not know what to do about it, nor whether it mattered
if he did nothing about it. He brought the drinks back, shouldered
his
way through the shop people and the mechanics in their overalls and
the
building site workers who were all on the 'black'. Wouldn't have been
seen in there, not seen dead in there, when he had been at Gower
Street. It still seared him, and it would do so for a goddamn long
time, the memory of when he had come back home to Raynes Park off
the
train from Waterloo, and told Jane that he was washed up, working
out
his notice, gone. Jane, seven months pregnant, and hysterical, and
him
not able to staunch the screaming. She'd done it, Jane, she had wound
him up when she had packed her job in because the baby was coming.
She
had done the sums of the household accounts, told him they couldn't
survive, not with the baby coming, not without her money, unless he
had
himself promoted. She had told him he should have been made up from
executive officer to higher executive officer, and like a bloody fool
.. . Basil took his drink. "Cheers .. . I'm going to give you advice, you jam my bastard. Don't go sentimental on it, don't get yourself
involved." Jim grasped the pint glass and nodded his agreement.
Henry
sipped at the orange juice. "Good trip .. . Just pile the paper up, reports, analysis, interview transcripts, like you've been a busy
boy."
"I hear you." He made his excuses and left them still talking, debating, arguing, what the rate of per them expenses should be. He
walked out onto the street. They were closing the shutters down on
the
fruit and vegetable shop, and locking up the jeans and denim store,
and
the launderette was packed full. Gary bloody Brennard, Personnel,
43
wouldn't be unlocking a paint-peeled door beside a launderette and
going back to work at 6.33pm, and Gary bloody Brennard, Personnel,
wouldn't even remember his little talk with Bill Penn, executive
officer. His own fault, because he had not copped on to the new scene
at Five. Too dumb, too stupid, to have evaluated the new mood at
Five.
Entry to General Intelligence Group was restricted to higher
executive
officers, new scene, didn't he know? Entry to General Intelligence
Group was restricted to university graduates, there was a new mood,
didn't he know? They didn't want watchers, nor leg-men, nor
ditch-men
.. . they wanted analysts and information control management,
needing
young legs and young eyes and a guy prepared to sit through the
bread-and-butter crap .. But it wasn't bread-and-butter crap they
were
celebrating in the pub, with Penn buying the drinks, it was a hell
of a
good overseas contract, with money going half share to the partners
..
. Penn felt quiet satisfaction, because Basil was almost jealous,
and
Jim couldn't quite hide the envy, and Henry didn't seem too cheerful.
Penn was reaching for their glasses, and none of them was shouting
that
it was his round. Penn said, "Actually, she's quite a decent woman
..." "Bollocks, she's a punter." "Daily rate, plus per them expenses,
plus Club-class flights." "Half the daily rate up front, per them expenses in your greasy hand for a clear week before you go, and that
doesn't include the hotel of your choice." Penn said, "Pity is that her daughter was a right little tosser .. ." He scooped up the
glasses
42
and headed for the bar. Two pints of best bitter, an orange juice,
and
Penn was taking low alcohol because when he was shot of them he would
be going back to the office over the launderette and he would be typing
up the finances and faxing them down to the Manor House on the Surrey/
Sussex border, and then he would be going home to Jane, and hoping
to
God, some hope, that the baby slept hard .. . and hoping to God, some
hope, that Jane wasn't flat on her back with exhaustion ... It was
going sour with Jane, not solicitors and courts stage, just going
stale, and he did not know what to do about it, nor whether it mattered
if he did nothing about it. He brought the drinks back, shouldered
his
way through the shop people and the mechanics in their overalls and
the
building site workers who were all on the 'black'. Wouldn't have been
seen in there, not seen dead in there, when he had been at Gower
Street. It still seared him, and it would do so for a goddamn long
time, the memory of when he had come back home to Raynes Park off
the
train from Waterloo, and told Jane that he was washed up, working
out
his notice, gone. Jane, seven months pregnant, and hysterical, and
him
not able to staunch the screaming. She'd done it, Jane, she had wound
him up when she had packed her job in because the baby was coming.
She
had done the sums of the household accounts, told him they couldn't
survive, not with the baby coming, not without her money, unless he
had
himself promoted. She had told him he should have been made up from
executive officer to higher executive officer, and like a bloody fool
.. . Basil took his drink. "Cheers .. . I'm going to give you advice, you jam my bastard. Don't go sentimental on it, don't get yourself
involved." Jim grasped the pint glass and nodded his agreement.
Henry
sipped at the orange juice. "Good trip .. . Just pile the paper up, reports, analysis, interview transcripts, like you've been a busy
boy."
"I hear you." He made his excuses and left them still talking, debating, arguing, what the rate of per them expenses should be. He
walked out onto the street. They were closing the shutters down on
the
fruit and vegetable shop, and locking up the jeans and denim store,
and
the launderette was packed full. Gary bloody Brennard, Personnel,
43
wouldn't be unlocking a paint-peeled door beside a launderette and
going back to work at 6.33pm, and Gary bloody Brennard, Personnel,
wouldn't even remember his little talk with Bill Penn, executive
officer. His own fault, because he had not copped on to the new scene
at Five. Too dumb, too stupid, to have evaluated the new mood at
Five.
Entry to General Intelligence Group was restricted to higher
executive
officers, new scene, didn't he know? Entry to General Intelligence
Group was restricted to university graduates, there was a new mood,
didn't he know? They didn't want watchers, nor leg-men, nor
ditch-men
.. . they wanted analysts and information control management,
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