Jones was faintly amused that the man went to such lengths to protect his reputation, while being so lapse about his personal security. He was worried about photographers not bombers. Jones didn’t dwell long on the thought. Once the man was behind the wheel of the Ford, Jones shattered the calm of the mews by turning the car into a blazing yellow and orange inferno, which hurtled jagged pieces of metal and splinters of glass, to all corners of the mews. He didn’t hang around to check what he knew to be inevitable. The distinguished career of Lord Bancroft had been brought to a premature end.
Tom was at Brighton station at five to seven. He had left his car at home and taken a ten minute bus ride into town, planning to get a taxi home. There had been no heating on the bus and he was again very grateful for his new coat and the scarf he was wearing. The gritters were out again and the forecast was the cold weather was here to stay. There had been a brief flurry of snow earlier but it wasn’t yet settling. At least not in Brighton. The news was showing deep snow in the north of the country. The odds in his shop on snow on Christmas day, were the shortest he could ever remember them being. Even so he had a spring in his step and was in a good mood as he walked from the bus stop to the station.
Colin’s train was on time and as he emerged from the ticket barrier he gave a broad smile when he recognized Tom. In fact Colin was unusually ebullient in his greeting. As Tom prepared to shake Colin’s hand, he found himself instead being enveloped in little short of a bear hug. Tom assessed that his brother was at least thirty pounds heavier and being a couple of inches shorter, it was evident he spent more time at a desk than in the gym. He had the same blue eyes and brown hair as Tom, though it was worn shorter and not yet showing any signs of greying. Tom doubted anyone would easily identify them as brothers from their looks. He being tall and slim. Colin shorter and stockier.
There was a sincerity in Colin’s, “it’s good to see you” that took Tom by surprise. He wasn’t used to such overt expressions of emotion from Colin. Indeed, Tom had sometimes wondered whether Colin felt any emotion at all or was just the result of some complex computer program.
“That’s a hell of a shiner you have,” Colin laughed.
Tom touched the bridge of his nose. He knew the bruises had turned a bright blue and yellow and were quite a souvenir. “Looks worse than it feels luckily,” was a response he was getting used to giving.
Tom had given a lot of thought to where to eat. He had finally decided on Brighton’s best known fish restaurant because he remembered Colin had quite often ordered fish in the past, when they went out. It didn’t have any Michelin stars and the décor was a bit dated but it used fresh fish and was always reliable. Tom would have preferred Thai but he knew Colin wasn’t a fan of spicy food. He thought that might again be the influence of Liz. He was sure she would consider eating Thai as somehow debauched. It was a short ten minute walk to the restaurant and they agreed to save all storytelling until they were seated comfortably out the cold.
They shared a bottle of dry white wine while considering the menu and it was evident to Tom that his brother was up for a good night out. Probably because he wasn’t often allowed off the leash for a night on the town, Tom thought. He would have liked to have eavesdropped when Colin announced to Liz that his worthless gambler of a brother had saved Melanie Adams’s life and they were going out to celebrate. By now she must have read the newspapers and seen the news on television so would have to accept for fact it was true and he was not so useless after all.
Tom ordered six Lindisfarne Oysters to start, followed by Sea Bass and on his recommendation, Colin followed suite. Tom explained that the Lindisfarne oyster farm lies on the site of the oyster beds established in 1381 by the monks of Lindisfarne priory, so they would be eating a bit of history. Colin was impressed by Tom’s history lesson until he admitted he was reading it from the menu.
They finished their second bottle of wine half way through the main course and so ordered a third. The wine seemed to loosen Colin’s normally rather conservative manner and he was genuinely enthralled to hear Tom recount, in great detail, the events of the past few days. Tom noticed that every time he mentioned Melanie’s name, his brother seemed to be extra interested. Colin admitted to being a fan of her films. He seemed able to conceive that Tom had acted bravely in rescuing Melanie but he was overcome by the notion that Tom was now on first name terms with her and they had actually sat and eaten dinner and breakfast together. Tom assured him he was not inventing anything and then had what he considered to be a brilliant idea.
“I’ll tell you what,” Tom said. “Why don’t I call her and you can say hello.”
“You are joking?”
Tom reached into his pocket for his phone and found the number she had given him to her private mobile. He watched Colin observe in a state
