‘Thank you,’ said Karene.

‘It may take some time. And it’s a tricky part of the world to be travelling in alone.’

‘Do you know where George Selaisse’s been taken?’ Bloom asked Rear Admiral Grey.

The Rear Admiral had remained very quiet throughout the reunion. He coughed and said, ‘Southampton Hospital. Under police guard. I believe the Detective Superintendent who’s running the investigation in Plymouth will be speaking to him when he comes round.’

‘Detective Superintendent Drummond,’ said Bloom. ‘They think he’ll be OK then?’

Grey and Morrisey exchanged a look. They weren’t sure. Captain Morrisey asked to speak to her boss in private about another matter and the two of them left.

‘Is that really about another matter?’ said Bloom.

‘I’ll find out.’ Jameson finished his third sandwich and then whispered, ‘Oh, and by the way, I found the security box. Harry put something in it on the Monday morning, after the bomb but presumably before they wiped his memory. Chew on that.’

99

Harry walked out of RAF Brize Norton to find Karene, Bloom and Jameson waiting for him. After a long flight on a bench seat, courtesy of the RAF’s Hercules transport plane, Harry was delighted with the comfortable seats inside the Mercedes.

‘Your car?’ he said as he climbed into the front passenger seat beside Jameson.

‘Good for chucking a bike or a bed in the back. You look great.’

Harry touched his still swollen nose. As he suspected, Bello had broken it and the medics at the field hospital in Bentiu, South Sudan, had needed to reset it. The swelling on his face and lips had reduced, but the bruising had darkened to a deep purple.

‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling good.’ He swivelled in his seat as he put on the seatbelt. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ he said to Karene and then he looked at Bloom. ‘Thank you. Both of you. For doing what you did to protect Sophie and Jake.’

He had managed to speak to his children and Caroline from the hospital. They’d all been crying by the end of the conversation. As he said goodbye, Caroline had told him to speak to Karene. ‘She’s worried and deserves to know you’re OK.’ It felt very odd to have his wife instruct him to call another woman. He knew that things had moved on, but they kept forgetting how new this was to him. He had called Karene eventually, after the nose resetting, a few stitches and as much sleep as he could manage. She had been more sensitive to his memory loss. She was happy to hear from him, he could tell by her tone, but she hadn’t said anything that a concerned friend wouldn’t, and he appreciated that.