Free Crisis Four by Andy McNab Page A

grandparents.
    It seemed that fuel was a sideline for this garage; it sold everything from disposable barbecues to lottery tickets and firewood. I undid my seat belt and tried to sound happy with life. ‘Do you want anything from the shop?’
    She shook her head as I got out to use the payphone on the wall. I’d get her something anyway. A nice bundle of kindling, maybe.
    After pulling various bits of paper from my jacket pocket I found Carmen and Jimmy’s phone number on a yellow Post-It note, its sticky bit covered with blue fluff from my jacket. Kelly was still sitting in the car, belted up and staring daggers at me, both for what I had done and what I was about to do.
    I knew that they’d be in at this time of day. They always had lunch at home; in nearly fifty years of marriage they’d never eaten out. Carmen didn’t like other people preparing her husband’s food, and Jimmy had learned better than to argue. I also knew that Carmen would answer the phone; it seemed to be a house rule.
    ‘Hello, Carmen, it’s Nick. How are you both?’
    ‘Oh, we’re fine,’ she said, a little crisply. ‘Quite tired, of course,’ she added, to introduce a tone of martyrdom at the first available opportunity.
    I should have ignored it and got straight down to business. ‘Tired?’ I asked, and as I said it I suddenly remembered something.
    ‘Oh yes, we stayed up until well after News At Ten . You said Kelly would be calling us.’
    They hadn’t heard from her since I’d taken her away for the trip, and I’d promised she would call. Mind you, Kelly hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to remind me.
    ‘I’m sorry, Carmen, she was so sleepy last night I didn’t want to wake her.’
    She didn’t go for that one and I didn’t blame her. She was right; at ten o’clock last night we were both filling our faces with Double Whoppers and chips.
    ‘Oh well, I suppose we can talk to her now. Has she had her lunch?’ What the question actually meant was: Have you remembered to feed our granddaughter? My thoughts went out to Jimmy, married to her for half a century, and her son, Kev. No wonder he’d headed west just as soon as he could.
    I tried to laugh it off; for Kelly’s sake I didn’t want to rise to this emotional blackmail.
    ‘Carmen, look, something has come up. I have to go away tonight. Would you be able to have her and take her back to school on Monday? I was going to take her out for the five days to “do” London, but she might as well go back now.’
    There was excitement in the air, but she still had to carve off her pound of flesh. ‘Of course. When will you be coming?’
    ‘That’s the problem, I haven’t enough time to get her to you. Could you meet us at Gatwick?’
    I knew they could. In fact, chances were that Jimmy was already being dispatched with an impatient motion of her hand to get his eleven-year-old mint-condition Rover out of the garage. The new door that had just been built gave direct access from the bungalow; he was very proud of that. I could picture him in there, wiping any stray finger marks off the paint work.
    ‘Oh… can’t you come here? It would mean we wouldn’t get back until late.’
    They only lived an hour from the airport, but anything to fuck me about.
    ‘I can’t, I’m afraid. I’m a bit strapped for time.’
    ‘But where would we meet you?’ There was an edge of panic in her voice at the thought of having to do something so challenging, mixed with annoyance that today’s minute-by-minute routine was being disrupted. It must have been a riot growing up as Mr and Mrs Brown’s little boy.
    I’d sensed from the beginning that they – or rather, she – didn’t really like me. Maybe she blamed me for their son’s death; I certainly knew she resented the fact that I was the person he’d appointed as their granddaughter’s guardian, even though she knew very well that they were too old to look after her themselves. But fuck it, they’d be dead soon. I would