‘So too orchestrated for the likes of ISIS?’

‘Accessing a military base and setting off a bomb would be huge for ISIS. If it was them they’d be singing their involvement from the rooftops.’

‘But they’ve only made that one statement.’

‘Exactly.

‘So who then? If it’s military in style, could it be military?’

‘It could certainly be someone’s military, yeah. And given Harry’s job in the Navy it makes a certain amount of sense. Maybe some other country is sending our military a message: we can get to you.’

‘How do we find out who?’

‘We interrogate the hell out of Peterson.’

‘I’m not sure it’s going to be that simple.’

17

Caroline walked down the hospital corridor with Mr Lyle and all the authority of a woman comfortable in her environment. She was a consultant anaesthetist. Hospitals were her domain. Karene eyed her grey trousers and white blouse, the NHS lanyard hanging around her neck. She remembered the first time she’d met Caroline when she’d accompanied Harry to collect his children. She was hoping to find a plain and dumpy housewife, ideally a little ugly, so was rather annoyed when an attractive woman opened the door.

She watched as Caroline and Mr Lyle discussed Harry’s condition, the acronyms flying back and forth between them, too quickly for a layperson to interpret.

Caroline nodded hello to Karene as they reached Harry’s door and mouthed, ‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ Karene mouthed in response, fighting the urge to ask why it had taken her so long to get there. She had called her last night and the woman had chosen to wait until morning to come. Augusta had suggested they go for breakfast but Karene needed to be here, she had to see this, even though she knew it might hurt.

She watched Caroline approach the bed from the doorway and braced herself.

‘Thank God you’re here.’ Harry’s face lit up as soon as he saw his ex-wife. ‘Honey, where have you been?’

Karene leaned against the door frame for support. He had always called her honey. She knew it was irrational to think he hadn’t used the same term of endearment for the woman he’d married and yet she had naively assumed the term was hers and hers alone.

‘What have you done now, darling?’ Caroline said as she took his hand and kissed his cheek.

Karene gripped the door frame. Caroline must be loving this. She wanted to shout out, ‘She cheated on you. You hate her!’ But she swallowed the words. Not only because Mr Lyle had warned them against forcing memories, but because she loved him and couldn’t bear to see him receive such painful news.