The Final Flight by James Blatch (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📗

cheek, with Rob just behind her, grinning.

“Roberto! How was the shopping expedition?”

They shook hands.

“Delightful, naturally. You must let me know your secret for getting out of it.”

They climbed into the car. Millie glanced across at Rob in the passenger seat. “Sorry I wasn’t there to help you through what must have been a difficult afternoon.”

Rob laughed. “I won’t say you weren’t missed. Anyway, how is Charlie?”

“He’s very well, very well.”

He heaved the heavy vehicle around the final bend, onto the straight that ran up to the main gate, and immediately had to brake hard.

A line of stationary cars ran along the main road.

Millie craned his neck to try and get a better view of what was happening. A car door was open at the front of the line. Had there been an accident?

He spotted two uniformed security officers, one of them leaning into a vehicle. The driver—an RAF colleague in his suit—was out, standing on the grass next to the road.

The officers appeared to be searching his car.

The tapes were still under the passenger seat.

A prickly heat rose up Millie’s body and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Is this about the new fence?” Mary asked.

“Looks like it,” said Rob. “Security chaps have upped their game.”

He turned to the women on the back seat.

“This gives me time to debrief you on your dress selection procedure.”

They laughed.

“It’s a very inefficient process, if I may observe.”

“Oh, is it, Mr Dress Expert?” said Mary.

“Yes. You see, I watched you put on that dress, Mary. I made a note of the time. 11.02AM. I think it was the second dress you tried on. Do you know what you said when you tried it?”

The car crawled further forward. Millie could see more clearly now; the officers were opening boots and back doors. One man had a torch.

He could grab the cardboard sleeves containing the tapes and throw them into the bushes. But how could he? How would he explain it?

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention, husband,” said Mary.

Millie glanced at his rear-view mirror: smiles and laughing faces on the back seat.

“I was paying very close attention,” said Rob, “mainly because I didn’t have my partner in crime here to distract me.”

Millie tried to smile, but his heart was pounding.

They crept forward again. The security men were now three cars ahead.

Millie’s eyes urgently scanned the scene. How hard were they looking?

If they found the reels, they would arrest him.

In front of everyone.

He cursed his stupidity at leaving them under the seat. He’d simply forgotten.

“You said…” Rob waved his finger at the two women, who seemed to be enjoying the inquisition. “You said, ‘this is perfect’.” He shouted the word again. “Perfect.”

A gap appeared as the car in front moved forward.

He could pull out and drive home.

He could claim he’d forgotten something.

“And yet… you then tried on five more dresses. Five. Before, guess what? You bought the one you had tried on at 11.02. Two hours earlier. Because, and I quote, it was ‘perfect’.”

The car in front stopped; the gap wasn’t big enough to get out cleanly. Millie willed it to move on, to give him space.

“Of course,” said Georgina. “She tried on five more dresses. It’s an essential part of the process.”

“Is it?” said Rob, with more than a hint of doubt in his voice.

The vehicle in front was on the move again, but just as Millie prepared to pull out, a security man appeared and walked directly toward them.

He felt his hands become slippery with sweat on the steering wheel.

Rob settled down from his goading of the woman and put on a more serious expression.

“Here comes the plod. I do hope you two paid for those dresses.”

The officer leaned down and motioned for Millie to open the window.

“Good evening. We need to search the car, please. Can you open the boot?”

The women stifled giggles in the back.

Millie could barely breathe. He nodded, afraid to talk in case it came out as a croak.

He opened the door and stepped out, glancing back at the bottom of the passenger seat, where Rob sat inches away from stolen Top Secret information.

As Millie got to the boot, he realised he didn’t have the keys and went back to the driver’s door.

His hand shook as he reached in to the ignition.

“You OK, Millie?” asked Rob.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice just about holding.

He opened the boot and the security man looked in at the spare tyre, jack and rusty foot-pump, before walking around to the far side of the Rover.

The man arrived at Millie’s open driver’s door, glancing back at the long queue of traffic caused by the delays. He leant in to the car, where the women were still giggling.

Millie took a step closer as the officer reached in and retrieved something from between the two seats.

Millie froze as the officer backed out and turned the object over in his hands.

It was Millie’s tatty AA road atlas.

“There you are, sir. Sorry for the delay.” He handed the map book to Millie and moved quickly on to the car behind.

After he’d climbed back in, Millie made deliberately slow movements to start the engine again, put it into gear and drive off.

He could feel Rob watching him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No. Just annoyed at all this palaver.”

Rob nodded and turned back to face the road. “Yes, it’s silly. They’re getting their knickers in a twist about this peace camp. Paranoid that one of the hippies is going to get smuggled in, I suppose.”

“Well, they’re just doing their jobs,” said Millie.

“I think the peace bunnies add a touch of glamour to the place,” announced Mary in the back.

“For god’s sake, don’t let Kilton hear you say that,” said Rob.

Millie turned into the main gate and wound down the window; he had his identification form ready and handed it over for inspection.

His hand was still shaking.

The corporal glanced at the paper and lifted the barrier.

They joined the throng in the large mess ante room. The furniture was pushed