The sheltering tree, p.43
The Sheltering Tree, page 43
"I was clear enough, was I?" he murmured.
Juliet let out a breath. "Magnificently clear."
Huffing, Alastair reached for his half-empty coffee cup.
"I'll tell Jay at lunch that his honour is restored," he said. "A rent boy indeed. Ask HR to schedule Curlew's division for an equality and diversity refresher, will you? Make sure he gets the hint."
Juliet managed to sit on her thoughts for nearly an hour.
"He means the world to you," she said, laying a fresh stack of unsigned forms in Alastair's in-tray. "Doesn't he?"
Alastair smiled, his gaze still occupied with this month's frontline policing report. "You're only just seeing this now?"
She smiled, unable to help it. "No. Just... freshly marvelling at its depth, perhaps."
Quietly, Alastair turned his page.
"It was hard to believe at first. Every day I get to spend in his company, I grow more sure of something." He looked up into her eyes, his grey-blue gaze gentle and at peace. "I think I... fascinate him, Juliet."
Juliet's heart thumped. "I think you might be right."
"I've stopped asking myself why. Quite honestly, it feels amazing just to let him. Whatever we're doing, he seems happy that we're doing it together. Truly, deeply happy. As if it's all he could ever really want."
Oh, God. "You make a very affecting couple, sir."
Alastair's mouth lifted a little at one edge, uncertain. "Affecting?"
Juliet attempted to put it into words.
"His love for you is very open," she said. "Very perceivable. And yours for him. It... rather shines from you both, if I'm honest. As if you can't help yourselves but show it."
He considered this, an understanding sparkle in his eyes.
"It's wonderful to be loved," he said.
Juliet's heart ached. She found herself reaching for humour, hoping it would stop her from welling up. "Shall I ring Cliveden this afternoon?" she asked. "Get you the number for their wedding co-ordinator?"
He visibly fought back a smile, dropping his gaze to his report. "Far too soon to discuss such things."
But it doesn't shock you to hear. "Is it?"
"Mm. He's only just claimed himself the title of boyfriend. If I offered him an express upgrade to fiancé, I think he'd run a hundred miles."
Juliet spoke with care, pulling at her lower lip. "Out of sheer curiosity... if you knew beyond all certainty that he'd say yes..."
Alastair took a moment to reply, searching through his pen holder. "This seems academic."
Juliet held her nerve. "So did asking him to dinner."
He paused again, his expression unreadable, full of everything at once. Selecting a green biro, he uncapped it with a tug and jotted a short note in the margin of the report.
"Be that as it may," he said at last. "I'm not going to rush things. I couldn't bear to ruin what we have, not when we've gone through so much to have it."
Juliet smiled. She saw it all in a flash, laid out in front of them as clearly as a map.
"A few months from now," she said, "I'm going to be back and forth between the two of you, promising you both that if you just hand over the ring, he'll say yes. You'll be lying awake at night to watch each other sleep, wishing he could be your husband. I guarantee you that this will be happening. It's going to be unbearable."
Alastair lifted his eyes from the report, casting her an entirely dubious smile. Warning, humour and hope fought for dominance in his face. "If he ever expresses even the slightest interest in marrying me, you are to tell me at once. You will run, not walk, to inform me."
"So that you can make the arrangements?"
"So I—" Alastair inhaled. "Juliet."
"Alastair Fieldhouse-Harding," she murmured, and watched his pupils blow to twice their size. "Rather softens you, doesn't it? Such lovely harmony, all those Ls and Ds and Hs."
"Juliet."
"Still carries the necessary clout in full form. Sir Alastair Charles Fieldhouse-Harding QPM."
"Juliet—"
"Unless you're given a peerage at retirement, which we can probably bet on, and will make you the Right Honourable the Lord Fieldhouse-Harding Kt QPM... and Jay will be... oh, dear. I may have to consult Debrett's for this. Would he be styled the Honourable Jay Fieldhouse-Harding, perhaps? To differentiate the two of you? Or will they just let both of you be Baron Fieldhouse-Harding? You'll be completely inseparable by that point anyway, so I suppose you're quite right. It is academic."
"Juliet," Alastair said, now rather breathless and turning the shade of a tomato. "I'm almost certain you're teasing me."
Juliet smiled. "Am I really?"
"I believe you are."
"Mm. When the day comes that I'm sitting at Cliveden, with a flute of the very best champagne in my hand, watching you dance with your new husband beneath a glittering chandelier to the sound of happy sobbing from everyone who knows you, you'll realise I wasn't teasing in the least. Shall I fetch your coat now? I think it's about time for your lunch."
Halfway through Juliet's salmon salad, there came an apologetic knock against the open office door. She glanced up from her copy of Vogue, mildly surprised to find an unknown lady in a belted raincoat smiling very gently from the threshold.
"I'm so sorry," the stranger said. "I didn't mean to disturb your lunch. I'm looking for Alastair Harding's office—is this right?"
Juliet paused, wondering what on earth was going on. They weren't expecting any visitors until much later this afternoon, and reception would surely have checked the lady's ID before allowing her up here. She looked like the most ordinary woman in the world, perfectly average and mild in every way, carrying the sort of canvas tote bag one might use to pick up a few groceries. Nothing about her suggested a wily assassin or terrorist.
"Can I ask if he's expecting you?" Juliet said, cautiously laying down her fork.
"He isn't. But I do have identification."
Sitting up a little, Juliet waited to be shown.
The stranger stepped into the office, reached inside her tote bag and produced a simple leather wallet, the sort that might contain an Oyster card. As she opened it for Juliet's inspection, the logo of the National Crime Agency lifted Juliet's eyebrows onto her forehead. She scanned a few more details, noting that the card carried a photograph but no name.
Realisation dawned.
"You're with the UKPPS," she said, looking up into the other woman's face. "Is this about Jay?"
The stranger gave a hesitant smile, quietly closing her ID.
"My name's Kim," she said. "Is Sir Alastair available? I don't imagine it'll take that long."
Juliet put a hand inside her jacket, retrieving her security services badge.
"Juliet Naughton," she murmured, offering it out, and gave Kim a moment to check her details. "I'm Sir Alastair's special advisor. They've gone out to lunch together, I'm afraid. Probably still flirting over langoustines. Can I help at all?"
Kim handed back Juliet's badge, her smile rather shy.
"Possibly," she said. "It's... really, I should contact Jay to confirm everything. But I know my sudden appearance always makes him very nervous, and given the circumstances, I thought I might as well just come here."
"Is there a reason for him to be nervous?" Juliet asked, gesturing Kim to a chair.
"Oh, no," Kim said. "Not any longer. There's nothing for anyone to be worried about." She settled down, resting her tote bag by her feet. "Do you know Jay?"
Juliet smiled. "Quite well by now," she said. "He's a sweetheart, for sure. Are you aware of the situation we had two weeks ago?"
"I am. I didn't realise at first that Jay had actually been involved, but as more details reached me... is it true they're both recovering well?"
"Like a dream. I've never actually seen either of them happier."
Kim's eyes brightened. "That's good to hear. I opened the paper this morning, saw Jay's photograph, and I thought... well, it all seems very clear. All that's left now is to confirm things."
"What is it you're hoping to confirm?" Juliet asked, resting her chin upon one hand.
Kim smiled, looking almost quietly proud.
"I don't know how much you know about the UKPPS," she said. "For most of the people that we help, they stay within the service permanently. Even if years go by without any problems, that small chance of still being tracked down means they're on our books for life, as it were."
Juliet was already following. "Unless, of course, the person who wishes them harm..."
Kim nodded. "Ian's death takes away most of the danger for Jay. It's not often this scenario rolls around, but... well, for the person who's been living under threat, it's a big relief."
"He's definitely happier for it," Juliet said. "Can I check, though—most of the danger?"
"No known threats exist," Kim replied, swift to reassure. "Personally, I believe very strongly that Ian was the only person who still wished Jay harm after all these years. We've seen no attempts by anyone else to trace Jay, nor to discover his whereabouts, and that's the main thing to take home. But it's nothing we can rule out conclusively. There's always a possibility."
Juliet nodded a little, thinking. "In normal circumstances, what would you now recommend?"
"I'd usually want to meet with Jay first. Ask his opinion on it all, and make sure that any decision is one which he feels comfortable with. In normal circumstances, there might be a case for moving him again. His identity has been compromised, his new location discovered, and even though Ian is dead... well, friends and family live on. There might be a case."
"But?" Juliet prompted, transferring half a cherry tomato to her mouth.
Kim smiled a little. "But it seems to me he might have entered a brand new protection scheme. One more specialised to his needs than we can ever be, and one I'm sure he'd be reluctant to leave."
Juliet chuckled. "I can tell you for free that he won't move again. He was anchored here already with his charity, but now there's Alastair too... if you offered it, he'd turn you down without a blink."
"I had a feeling that might be the case," Kim said. She paused, preparing something in her mouth. "Most people are a part of our service for life. On occasion, someone will leave us and be removed from our books. Sometimes it's because they violate their own protection so frequently that it becomes impossible for us to keep them safe. Sometimes people just grow tired of running. Sometimes they decide they just can't live a lie any longer, and they'd rather deal with the consequences."
"And sometimes they catch the eye of the Met commissioner," Juliet finished, amused.
Kim gave a small laugh. "Well... very rarely, yes. I think you understand what I'm driving towards."
Juliet hummed. "I do. You're wondering whether, going forwards, Jay's protection will still fall to the UKPPS—or if Scotland Yard will be taking on those duties."
"I appreciate you might not be in a position to say, but..." Kim took a breath. "Now Ian's gone, I don't blame Jay for wanting to cut his ties to the UKPPS and be free. I just want to make sure he'll be safe as he heads into the future. We're very proud of how he's changed, and... well, we want the best for him."
If they were here, Juliet thought, her heart glowing. If you could see them together, just for five minutes.
"I know you'll want some official confirmation," she said. "If you leave me with your contact details, I'll ask Sir Alastair to get in touch with you and give you his own assurances. For now, between the two of us, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
Kim's gaze softened. "Really?"
"Really," Juliet murmured. "Sir Alastair is extremely fond of him. Extremely protective. In the wake of the kidnapping, we've made considerable improvements to Alastair's private security. As his partner, all of those measures extend to Jay."
"That's very reassuring to hear."
"We'll be monitoring closely for any future threats, not only in London but also in Manchester. If a problem arises, we'll take immediate steps to neutralise it."
"Thank you," Kim said, her expression more relieved by the moment. "Thank you, I... I appreciate your reassurance. We try not to form attachments to our people. Jay has always been something of an exception, though."
Amused, Juliet retrieved her fork from within her salad. "Isn't he just?" she said. "He's really quite exceptional at being the exception. Never met such a consummate outlier in all my life."
Kim's smile seemed to shine.
"Thank you for your time," she said. "I'll leave you to finish your lunch, but here's my card. If you could pass it along to Sir Alastair, and let him know that I called... it's not urgent, of course. I'll wait until I hear from him to close Jay's file officially. But it sounds like I can get all the paperwork together."
"I'm imagining a big red stamp," Juliet said, twirling her fork. "Happily ever after, block capitals across the front. Leave me your details as well, will you? I'll forward you the wedding photos."
Kim looked surprised and delighted, taking another card from inside her coat. "That's on the way, is it?" she asked.
Juliet reached out, taking the card between two fingers.
"Oh, it's coming," she said with a wink. "Just give me another six months."
Chapter 26
Two Years Later
Several people had warned Jay to expect it, and it turned out they were right. No day would ever pass as quickly as your wedding day.
Around half past five, Jay seemed to come back into being. He found himself standing by the sink in an empty ground floor bathroom, pressing his damp palms to either side of his neck. The past five minutes had been the only part of the day where nobody knew where he was. The sound of water rushing from the tap was clearing all the chaos from his head. It felt good just to stand here, to be aware of his own thoughts again.
As he looked at himself in the mirror, his collar undone and his dove-grey satin tie pulled loose, the platinum band around Jay's finger caught his eye.
He grinned to himself, dazed, and shook his head.
They'd all been right that today would be a blur. They'd been right about something else too, something that made it all worth it. Married did feel different. It felt incredible. The two of them would wake up tomorrow morning in their suite, look back on today's whirl of happy commotion, and smile—then the really good part could begin.
Drying off his neck with paper towels, Jay let himself enjoy these last few moments of peace. They still had the evening reception ahead of them, their first dance and the cake and everybody drinking. He knew his lot would behave themselves, all the people from the Fieldhouse Foundation, but the hordes of politicians and Oxbridge alumni would be another matter. Tidied up, grounded and ready, he helped himself to fancy hand cream and an imperial mint from the bowl. It was his wedding day, after all. He slipped out of the bathroom, tucking the mint between his teeth and his cheek to enjoy at his leisure, and headed back along the corridor.
Arriving in the lobby, he found that the changeover for the reception was well underway, all the Cliveden team busy moving tables and chairs. He wondered at once if he should help. Though he'd spent the last twelve months as a wealthy man's fiancé, his blood and his bones remained as working class as ever. The sight of other people carrying chairs awoke instincts in him that he'd never quite be able to put aside.
Before he could come to a decision, something else caught his eye: a figure hovering beside a nearby pillar, hanging back and watching the staff.
At the sight of his new husband, Jay's heart gave a thump.
Alastair was even more gorgeous than the day they'd met. He'd stripped down to his shirtsleeves and his waistcoat in the afternoon heat, and the muted lavender silk hugged the curve of his back like it loved him. He'd retired now, released from Scotland Yard's grooming guidelines, and he'd voiced more than once that he might try growing a short beard. Even the thought sent Jay's blood into a simmer. It had taken several months for Alastair to learn to use his reading glasses responsibly, not to peer at Jay over the top of them unless he really did want to be fucked across the nearest item of furniture. He still did it, just not when Jay was on the phone to the gas company. Jay had never doubted he would look like an absolute dream on their wedding day.
Only one thing spoiled the view.
Alastair was biting the corner of his thumbnail. He'd developed the habit in the early stages of wedding planning, and continued it ever since. Whenever it was pointed out to him, he dismissed the suggestion with a tut and claimed he had a patch of dry skin. Strangely, this dryness only appeared when he was feeling out of place. Jay had coaxed him into a large glass of Glenfiddich last night, just to make sure he got some sleep. He wondered if another glass now might be wise. They had a lot of guests on the way, a lot of friends. The line between a hectic day and a stressful day could be extremely thin.
Then Jay remembered where they were, and realised he could do a lot better than whisky.
He put his plan into action at once. If they didn't take this chance, they might not get another. He slipped across the lobby, glancing around to make sure Juliet and her laminated wedding timetable weren't on the scene. All eyes were elsewhere, all attention diverted.
Stealing up behind his new husband, Jay caught hold of Alastair's hand.
"Oi," he whispered in Alastair's ear, squeezing his fingers as he jumped. He smelled like the new hair wax he'd bought specially for today. Its scent was crisp and enticing, and Jay had longed to take a breath of it all afternoon. Alastair glanced at him, frowning in confusion. "Come on," Jay said, tugging on his hand. "Quick. Before anybody spots us."
Alastair's expression opened. He didn't ask; he didn't say a word. He slid his fingers between Jay's, willing in an instant to follow. Jay pulled him quickly across the lobby, down a hallway and out through an unlocked staff exit into a courtyard, stumbling over the gravel in their dress shoes.
They raced hand in hand across the lawns, laughing like boys as they checked over their shoulders.
