‘That’s Mummy’s best china,’ Miriam said.
‘It’s all right,’ Freddie said. ‘He won’t hit it.’
Vaughn didn’t comment. His standing as lord of the manor was suddenly at stake.
He fired. A stone chip flew off the balustrade, and I winced, anticipating a ricochet.
‘Nice try,’ Freddie said.
Vaughn wasn’t finished. He cocked the gun again, aimed and fired. No stone chip this time. He was rattled, and hisaim was only going to get worse. He fired again, and again, but the family china was safe.
Margaret stood up, exasperated.
‘Give it here,’ she said to Vaughn. He handed her the gun carefully, making sure to point it away from her.
‘The bullets come out the other end,’ Freddie quipped, as Margaret took the gun.
She ignored him, and cracked open the gun, peering down the barrel. She flipped open the chamber and emptied the shells into her hand, then flipped it closed again. She pointed the gun into the air and dry fired it three times. Click click click.
‘It helps if you put the bullets in,’ Freddie said.
‘Thanks,’ Margaret said, as she opened the chamber again and fed in one shell. She closed the chamber and aimed at the cup.
She fired, and the cup disintegrated. She winked at me, and turned to Freddie.
‘Bombay shooting club,’ she said. ‘Gold rosette, three years in a row.’
‘Miriam, get another cup,’ Freddie said excitedly, now the gauntlet had been laid down.
While the others played with the gun, Vaughn nodded to me and strolled away from the group. I joined him at the far end of the terrace. He looked out across the Forest.
‘We’ve got a job to do,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘Aspidistra.’
“When?’ I asked.
‘As soon as possible,’ he said. ‘I’m getting pressure from the top. If I don’t show some results soon, they’re going to send someone to get things moving.’
‘Who would they send?’
‘Let’s not find out.’
64
Vaughn crawled to me through long grass, keeping his head down. His face was blacked, and he wore a black outfit.
He held up one finger – one sentry – and pointed towards the trees. I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger. OK.
I’d spent the afternoon teaching them how to approach a building in the dark, communicating silently. Eventually I’d relented, said they were ready.
I pointed to him, and made a lateral gesture, ordering him to move out to the side. We would flank the sentry.
As Vaughn crawled away, I listened carefully for signs of the rest of the group. The wind was loud in the trees, coming from the south, instead of the west. Rain on the way.
I crept forwards, moving as slowly as I could. I’d impressed upon each person that in the pitch dark of a moonless sky, the only way we’d be discovered was by making a sound while moving.
I froze. A sound from twenty yards ahead. A branch, pushed aside, leaves swishing as it sprung back. Possibly a deer, picking its way through the undergrowth. Most likely the sentry Vaughn had seen. I’d have to be careful. I’d told Vaughn to go around, then gone straight forwards myself.
A certain level of hubris, I had to admit to myself. A feeling of invulnerability. I was the expert in this situation, and I was on home turf. But that was the kind of thinking thatgot men killed. And if I was going to get taken out, I’d be damned if it was in front of Vaughn and chums.
