‘Which will be padlocked,’ said Khan.
‘The bolt cutters will make short work of that.’
‘But are you sure about the perimeter fence?’ said Patel, beginning to share Khan’s anxiety. ‘No barbed wire?’
‘None,’ replied Malik. ‘Simple five-foot railings. You’ll be over in a flash.’
‘But there are houses nearby. What if someone sees us and raises the alarm?’
‘They’ll all be asleep at three o’clock in the morning and the station is located on a hill. You put the van in neutral and coast down the last two hundred metres. Then you sit and wait to make sure all is quiet.’
Khan and Patel had run out of questions; they sat in silence until Malik suggested they check they had everything they’d need in the back of the van.
‘What time did you say we should leave here?’ asked Patel.
‘Ten o’clock. We don’t want to risk disturbing the neighbours by leaving any later. Drive to the car park we decided on and wait there until it’s time. It’s only used by hill walkers so it will be empty at that time of night.’
The three men watched the TV broadcast of the government’s advice and information panel at seven p.m., remaining impassive as Oliver Clunes, the government’s chief medical adviser, reported to the nation that only thirty-eight new cases of cholera had occurred across the country in the past twenty-four hours.
‘We have also heard from the laboratories at Colindale that the bacterium is sensitive to antibiotics,’ announced Norman Travis. ‘We’re not out of the woods yet but it does look as if we could be getting the upper hand.’
Stella Mornington reported that the public had been behaving with the good common sense that the British were noted for in times of emergency, and very few arrests had been made for non-compliance with the emergency regulations.
Lynn Davies reminded the public about the helplines that were available, and urged everyone to find out the location of their nearest mass-vaccination clinic well before the commencement of the programme on the following Monday.
All four managed a smile as the programme ended, even the chief medical adviser, who made it look like an unnatural act.
‘They won’t be smiling tomorrow, my brothers,’ muttered Malik, ‘when they start drowning in rivers of their own filth. They’ll be demanding that their troops be withdrawn from the Middle East and an end put to their imperialist adventure with the American pigs.’
Steven Dunbar had been watching the same broadcast at his flat in Marlborough Court. Tally phoned shortly afterwards. ‘Well, what d’you think?’
‘Things are looking better than I’d feared,’ said Steven.
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Tally. ‘I can’t believe we’re getting off so lightly — no disrespect to those who’ve died, but it could have been so much worse.’
‘We should remember that the police haven’t caught anyone yet; there could be a second wave.’
‘Please God, no,’ Tally sighed. ‘That would just be too awful… God, it just doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘Then let’s not,’ said Steven. ‘We’ll cross those bridges when we come to them.’
‘By the way, I asked around to see if anyone had heard rumours about a new health scheme or changed pharmacy arrangements being introduced in the autumn but I drew a complete blank, I’m afraid. No one knew anything at all about it.’
‘Thanks anyway. I’ve asked Jean to check out the other health authorities on the list, but if your lot haven’t heard anything I guess the others won’t have either. Maybe the Schiller mob didn’t get that far before the bomber stepped in.’
‘Maybe the bomber was a good guy after all.’
‘I hope so.’
‘I was just thinking this morning: if things continue to get better, maybe we’ll get a chance to take that trip you suggested to Newcastle to pay our respects to the other good guys?’ said Tally.
‘That’s a real possibility. There wasn’t much to say at the COBRA meeting this morning. I think they’ll be stopping them soon.’
‘Good. Then maybe we can go on up to Scotland after Newcastle and spend some time with Jenny?’
‘That would be nice.’
Although he meant it, Steven said it on autopilot. His attention had strayed back to Tally’s reporting that no one in the Leicester health authority had heard anything about a proposed change to services coming in the autumn. The whole thing suddenly struck him as strange. If the Schiller Group were still discussing things back in February, when the outcome of the election would not be known until May, there wouldn’t have been time to introduce a new health initiative by the autumn as the recovered disk had outlined… but did it matter now that the world had changed? Steven smiled as he remembered Lisa pointing out that he had the kind of mind that would find something suspicious on a bus ticket. A large gin and tonic and an early night were called for.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Patel. ‘The car park is straight on here.’
‘I want to drive past the pumping station.’
‘What for? Someone could see us.’ Patel sounded agitated.
‘Relax. It’s quarter past ten. There’s plenty of traffic about and we’re in an unmarked white van. I just want to make sure about the railings.’
‘But Waheed already told you.’
‘I know he did,’ said Khan, checking his mirrors and slowing slightly as they passed the pumping station.
‘See, exactly as he said,’ said Patel. ‘Five-foot railings. Now let’s go to the car park like we agreed.’
‘All right, all right… I just needed to be sure.’
Patel shot him a sideways glance. ‘Don’t you trust Waheed?’
‘Of course,’ said Khan.
Patel, unconvinced, shot him another nervous glance but didn’t say any more. The unscheduled drive-by of the pumping station had already unsettled him more than enough.
The hill car park was as deserted as Malik had predicted, but Khan still took the precaution of driving head first into a parking place so that he and Patel were facing a clump of bushes. If he’d reversed in, any vehicle entering the car park would have caught them in the sweep of its headlights. Khan switched off the engine and they sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being contracting metal clicks from the van.
‘Do you think we’ll ever see our families again?’ asked Patel.
‘It’s enough that they will be proud of us,’ replied Khan.
‘Yes, but-’
‘Enough. We are soldiers on a mission. We must look forward, not back.’
‘You’re right. I wonder what the camps will be like? I’ve never been abroad… you?’
‘No.’
‘Our country… but we’ve never been there. Seems strange, don’t you think?’
‘Look-’ Khan’s angry response was cut short by a vehicle entering the car park, its headlights lighting up the shrubbery briefly, causing both men to sink down in their seats.
‘It’s slowing,’ hissed Patel.
‘It’s a car park.’
Patel sat motionless, staring straight ahead while Khan monitored the car’s progress in the van’s mirrors. It circled round to the opposite side of the car park, its tyres crunching on the gravel surface, and extinguished its lights as it drew to a halt.
‘As far away as possible,’ muttered Khan. ‘Guess what they’re doing.’
Patel didn’t respond. Humour was the last thing on his mind.
Conversation between the two men was uncomfortable and sporadic for the remainder of their wait, which was punctuated by the arrival of two more cars and the departure of the original one. ‘Like rabbits,’ muttered Patel when the third car drove in.
The last car left at one thirty a.m., allowing both men to get out and relieve themselves in the bushes. ‘I thought they’d never go,’ said Khan.
