Fit For Purpose by Julian Parrott (scary books to read .TXT) 📗

he thought, an enemy of the state masquerading as a journalist. He examined some file photos of her although he already knew her face well. He felt that she was pretty; small, thin, short dark hair and even darker eyes set on high, sharp cheekbones. But he didn’t feel the stirrings of desire as he once did. The helicopter accident had damaged more than his face. He put his feet up on his desk and opened the SVR watcher’s porn file and clicked through a number of the photos. He felt nothing and returned to the Kirov file. Neutralising Kirov would be his third successful operation and would mean a promotion, perhaps his own Rezidentura. He licked his lips in anticipation.

***

Llangollen Canal and Rachel’s Farm, December 21st

The morning was one of those sunny winter mornings all bright and blue sky that made the chilly bite of the temperature all the more surprising. The Periwinkle was the only boat on the canal as it slowly nosed out of the wharf. Tom skilfully reversed the boat to a watering stop and filled the boat’s water tank as Nia held the narrowboat calm by its centre rope. The plan for the day was a trip down the cut to the Shropshire market town of Whitchurch, moor up at its reclaimed small wharf and grab a ride with Rachel or Owain to the farm for dinner. Once underway, Nia took the tiller and Tom went inside to make cups of tea.

The journey was uneventful. Nia and Tom talked constantly at the tiller with Nia occasionally popping inside the Periwinkle to get warm. They encountered a swing bridge and Tom moored up and he and Nia, along with Jack, walked down the towpath to raise the bridge. Tom returned to the boat and gently moved past the bridge which Nia, still on the towpath, lowered and then ran back to the boat. Tom warned her about the dangers of running on canal verges especially near locks and swing bridges as a hidden bollard could trip the runner leading to a nasty fall on the towpath or into the canal itself. Nia answered with an, “Aye, aye, captain”. After a couple more swing bridges, which they took turns in raising and lowering, Tom nosed the Periwinkle into a sharp right turn into Whitchurch’s small basin. Once again, the Periwinkle was one of very few boats moored up.

Nia wanted to run again, so they ran along the path that followed the route of the old canal into the outskirts of town, then up a slight rise, around the town’s ancient parish church, and back down to the narrowboat basin. After their showers, Tom and Nia dressed casually for dinner at Rachel and Owain’s. Nia wouldn’t admit it to Tom, or herself, but she was nervous to meet Rachel. It wasn’t only that she hadn’t met a lover’s family member, formally, since Goldenboy, it wasn’t even that she was aware of Rachel’s important role in Tom’s life, it was the simple desire to connect to someone close to Tom. Nia wore jeans, a little less tight than usual, brown boots, a lavender shirt, untucked, underneath her Aran sweater. As the forecast was chilly, she wore a Berghaus quilted coat.

***

Dinner went well. Rachel was surprised as to how natural, thoughtful, and witty Nia was. She quickly became aware that Nia’s connection to Tom was obvious and deep. Dinner over, Owain took Tom out to see a new piece of farm equipment. It was a move that Rachel had prearranged. With the boys out of the house, Rachel brought tea on a tray to Nia at the dining room table. Nia would have preferred coffee post dinner but hadn’t said so. She knew that Rachel was quite an authority at the farm and in Tom’s life.

They chatted about the cycles of the farm and some of Nia’s work. Rachel laughed at the appropriate stories and punchlines and Nia felt that they were connecting.

“Why is Tom still barging?” Nia asked. “If he loves boats so much why isn’t he sailing the coasts?”

Rachel laughed.

“It’s because he’s actually a terrible sailor. He gets nauseated watching the sea on TV. There aren’t many waves on a canal,” she replied. Then, more earnestly, “Tom is a lovely guy,” Rachel said. “He’s had a tough go of it for a few years now but he’s more like his old self again, and I think that’s due to you Nia.” Nia smiled almost shyly. Rachel continued, “But I don’t want you hurting him.” Rachel’s stare was chilling.

“I don’t intend to,” Nia began defensively. “I really, really like him.”

“Like him how much?”

“I’ve rather fallen in love with him.”

Nia’s declaration surprised Rachel, who gawped a little. The words surprised Nia too, they sounded rather loud, but she liked the way they sounded. She liked the way they felt not so much in their production but in her core. In her soul.

“Quite a bit actually.”

“But,” Rachel stammered. “But you don’t know him.”

Nia sat back in her chair feeling affronted, she made a gesture with her hands, “Well, do we really know anyone?” She felt stupid as soon as she said it. “Sorry,” she said. “You’re right, but what I know of the Tom I have been with is that I want to spend all my time with him.”

Rachel leant forward, “Look, Tom’s been through so much over the last fifteen years or so and he’s kind of shut all the pain, his and others, inside. He’s been going through life on autopilot. Did he tell you our parents died when he was still in sixth form?”

Nia shook her head.

“Oh my God. I knew they had both passed away, but he never really mentioned when,” Nia answered.

“It was unexpected, a train derailed injuring about thirty passengers and killing two of them, both our parents. Just incredibly shitty bad luck. I