“Well, that’s the first week of term out of the way,” Yvonne said as she sat down with Mark Williamson, “only another thirty-nine to go?”
“Here,” Mark said as he poured a glass of red wine and passed it to her, “this might help you feel better.”
“Thanks,” she said as she looked at the photographs arranged on the coffee table, “so what do we have here?”
“Well,” Mark said as he looked at them, “I think it’s about time we secured the funds for our winter holiday.”
“Even with what is in the deposit box?”
“You know we can’t touch that,” Jay said with a smile, “no, and I already briefed Brian. This one is purely pleasure, if you wish to look at it that way.”
“So,” Yvonne said as she picked up the picture of a red haired seven year old girl, “What do we have?”
“That’s Bobby, the youngest daughter of Sir Magnus Portnoy,” Mark said.
“Chairman of the British International Trade Enterprise commission?”
“That’s him. He’s the head of the British branch of a multinational – so I think visiting him will scratch quite a few itches.”
“So, family? I see Mrs McPhee will be needed.”
“Four daughters – Carmel is seventeen, Cathy fifteen and Janice ten. Notice anything?”
“They don’t look like each other?”
“No they don’t – they’re all adopted. His wife Angelica is the manager of a local building society branch, and his mother Roberta lives with them in this well appointed Tudor farmhouse.”
Yvonne looked at the large building, and then said “so, a simple visit and then Magnus goes for a drive?”
“In the main – one little twist though. I have a date in mind, but it is the day of Janice’s birthday.”
“Is it now? Well, perhaps we can use that to help keep the kids quiet and calm, true?”
“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” Mark said with a smile. “I’ll call a few of the guys to meet us on the Saturday morning...”
“Your mum’s staying the weekend, so I guess we have another late dinner dance,” Yvonne said quietly. “They do so take it out of you...”
“All right – you two have fun,” Mark’s mother said as he and Yvonne got into the car, Charlie and Lisa waving to them as they reversed down the driveway and set off.
“Well now,” Mark said as they headed down the road, “I know this nice little country bar we could get some lunch in once we’ve checked in, and still have time to get to the rendezvous.”
“That sounds divine,” Joyce said as she looked out of the window, “when are we meeting them?”
“Three o’clock, at the John Lewis car park in Hugh Wycombe...”
The car park at this store is on several levels, and often very busy, so nobody paid much attention to the white transit van as the three men walked towards it, collars turned up to keep the early autumn wind out before they climbed in one by one.
“Afternoon gentlemen,” Jay Edwards said as they climbed in, “ready for an honest day’s work?”
“No – but we’re ready for work,” one of them said as the other’s laughed.
“Fair point – Mrs McPhee is up front, but I hope you have all come prepared to help out with party games?”
“Party Games?”
“That’s right – one of the girls has their birthday today, and we’re going to give her a day to remember...”
“So how are we going to do this?”
“Patience my boys,” Mrs McPhee said in her soft Scottish accent, “all in good time...”
It was about four thirty when Carmel Portnoy pulled up outside the family home. She had just passed her test, but only Cathy had the courage to come back early with her. The seventeen year old was wearing a red padded jerkin over a blue jumper, the fur lined hood down her back, as well as a pair of old blue jeans. Knee length black leather boots completed her outfit.
“Well, at least we got back before the others,” Cathy said as she got out. The fifteen year old had long blonde hair, which fell over the shoulders of her striped blouse, black leggings and knee length black boots. Her sister smiled as her chestnut brown hair blew in the wind, and said “okay then – we put up the decorations before we went to the cinema, so now let’s get her presents inside so she can open them later.”
She quickly unlocked the front door, and stood back as Cathy carried in two large reusable supermarket bags, brightly coloured and wrapped packages protruding from the top. Carmel smiled as she locked her car, and then closed the door behind herself – not seeing the white van as it came up the driveway and parked out of sight at the far side of the house.
“You want these put in the front room?”
“If you could, Carmel said as she walked to the kitchen, “I’m going to put the oven on so that we can start cooking some of the party food.”
“When’s Granny going to get back?”
“She went to pick up the cake, so she should not be too far behind us – in fact, that might be her now,” Carmel said as she heard the front door open, but then several people come in.
Walking out of the kitchen, she saw Roberta Portnoy standing in the doorway. Her grandmother was wearing a brown cardigan over a woollen multicoloured dress, with a white top visible at her neck. The dress came down to her knees, her brown tights visible down to a pair of short ankle boots, and her grey hair was neatly cut.
But there was a look of fear in her eyes as she stood holding the cake box, with four masked men and a masked woman behind her, all dressed in boiler suits, wearing black gloves and with balaclavas over their heads. One of them had a sawn off shotgun pressed to her grandmother’s side, as he whispered in a Geordie accent “Not a word pet – take the box from your grandmother, and Mrs McPhee will accompany you while you take it to the kitchen.”