Free The String Diaries by Stephen Lloyd Jones

it seemed as if they had not been followed. Nate’s condition was dire. The possibility that he might not survive the night, however shattering, was something she had to consider. But they had found a safe-house. A temporary respite from what hunted them. They still had a chance.
    ‘Hannah?’ he asked.
    She blinked away weariness. ‘I’m sorry, Sebastien. When I saw the tattoo, I panicked. Knew I’d seen it, just not where.’
    ‘Don’t be sorry. If you ever need to validate again, for whatever reason, you don’t hesitate. Better to be safe. If I don’t answer quickly enough, or I seem insulted, puzzled, you shoot me. Aim for my head next time, not my chest. Charles made those rules very simple for a reason. They work, and they’re the only way you have of keeping your family safe. Later I’ll tell you a few things you can use to validate me when you need to.
    ‘Now, I’m not a patient man by nature, I’ll admit that. So I hope for both our sakes you’re going to keep to your word and make that tea.’
    She forced a smile at his words, even though she didn’t feel like smiling. He was trying to lighten the atmosphere, and he deserved something for that; he had already done so much more. ‘I think that’s the least you’ve earned. Thank you. Thank you for being here. For helping Nate.’
    Sebastien waved away her gratitude.
    She went to the dresser, found the box of cartridges and loaded two of them into the gun. Returning the weapon to the pantry, she emerged with tea bags, powdered milk and sugar. ‘These don’t look too ancient,’ she said, indicating the supplies.
    ‘They’re not. I make sure everything’s up to date, just in case something happens.’ He paused, then added, ‘I’m sorry something has.’
    This time it was Hannah’s turn to brush aside a well-meant comment. A childish part of her still hoped that by refusing to dwell on what had happened tonight, it might still magically right itself. Nate, lying pale and motionless on the sofa, was testament to the foolishness of that thought.
    The kettle on the stove began to boil. She switched off the gas, added tea bags to two mugs and poured water. While the tea brewed, Sebastien lowered himself into an armchair by the fire. Once he had settled, Moses padded over for some attention.
    ‘You already knew something was wrong when you got here, didn’t you?’ Hannah asked him. ‘Even before you saw Nate.’
    He nodded. ‘I spoke to Charles this evening.’
    She felt jolted by the admission, felt her emotions churning. ‘You spoke to him? When?’
    ‘Shortly before he talked to you, I suspect.’
    ‘What did he say? Have you heard from him since? Is he all right?’
    Sebastien held up a hand and signalled Hannah to lower her voice. ‘I spoke to him once, that’s all, quite a few hours before you turned up. I haven’t talked to him since you managed to get away, and he hasn’t tried to call back. I doubt he would. He told me you’d been compromised.’
    She nodded. ‘Did he tell you how?’
    ‘He said someone from his solicitor’s office called him. They were worried they might have let something slip. He didn’t give me the details. It was a very quick conversation. Can I ask what happened? How Nate got injured?’
    ‘I don’t even know that myself. Dad called us in to see him. Told us we needed to leave right away and not to tell him where we were going. Nate and I split up. He went to pack a few things, I went to get Leah. I was out in the field when I heard the shots.’
    ‘Shots?’
    ‘It sounded like a pistol. I think Nate shot him. When I heard it I didn’t know what to do. I called Nate on my phone and he told me to reverse the Discovery up to the side of the house. We pulled up and Nate climbed into the car. I didn’t even know how badly he was hurt until we got here.’
    Sebastien frowned, and glanced across at her husband. ‘Did you see your father before you left?’
    ‘No. No I didn’t.’
    ‘Has he tried