Midnight Flit Read online

  At the entrance to Briers's building he paused and looked back again, then ducked inside and hurried across to the concierge's door. A tap brought her into view, large and beshawled, with her glasses a little lopsided.

  "Mrs Novak," Briers greeted. "I'm going to be away for a few days. If you could keep an eye on my place I'd be most grateful."

  She looked at him over the top of her specs. "Indeed, not that I need to ask what you'll be doing. I'll just remind you that this is a respectable building and I expect the tenants only to invite respectable people into it. Your guests do not look respectable."

  "Er - right," Briers felt his cheeks begin to ache with a hopeful and ecstatic grin. "When did they arrive?"

  "Just after you left this morning, for shame. Most demanding and very brazen. In future your floozies can wait in the café across the road."

  "Yes, I'll tell them." Briers tucked a couple of leu into her hand. "Thank you, Mrs Novak."

  He headed for the stairs, trying not to run, and wasn't surprised as he turned the first corner to the half-landing to see a familiar pair of black and red shoes, some very well-turned silk-clad ankles, and a dangerously short skirt.

  "Thank God," he breathed, looking up into Miles's smiling face. It had to be admitted that his makeup was of the racy variety but Briers didn't care. His knees sagged with relief.

  "Did she just call me a floozie?" Miles demanded, face bright with laughter. "She did, didn't she?"

  But Briers had other things on his mind. He dropped his briefcase and grabbed Miles two handed, one taking a good grip on his throat, the other low on his back. "Don't you ever scare me like that again," he whispered. "Dear God, Miles, when the Old Man said you were dead - "

  "Dead?" Miles made a soft choking sound and rolled his eyes upward to the floor above. "Ma's waiting for us, by your door."

  And if she looked over the banisters she'd have a good view of Briers kissing her son. With a snarl of frustration he gave Miles a last little squeeze and then let him go. "Up with you," he said. "I'll make us some coffee - floozie."

  Miles shot him a delighted grin then scampered up the stairs ahead of him, but Briers just stood for a moment letting all the morning's grief and fury ebb away before he snatched up his briefcase and followed.

  #

  Briers's apartment was typical of bachelor accommodation - it was untidy. However Lady Siward accepted her coffee with a smile, and appeared completely at ease.

  "Such lovely high ceilings," she said. "And you have all this space to yourself?"

  "I do," Briers said. "I'm sorry for the chaos, it's the cleaner's week off, and - "

  "We know how it is," Miles said. He was leaning back against the unlit fireplace in a much more mannish stance that he'd normally assume when wearing a natty little dark grey woollen two-piece suit. Briers had recognised the shoes as a pair of Millie's favourite Ferragamos, but none of the rest of his get-up was familiar. "Shall I brief you now?" Miles added. "Or should we get word to your office first?" He nodded towards the telephone on Briers's desk.

  "A phone!" Lady Siward almost spilled her tea. "Please, Mr Allerdale, might I ring home? We left messages in the room to be passed on to the embassy, but I assume from your shock they didn't get through."

  "No, they can't have done. As far as they know in Bucharest you're missing, Lady S, and Miles is dead."

  "Oh no!" Lady Siward put her cup down completely. "We must get them word. Clive will be frantic."

  "We'll get them word, safely. The minute it's clear you're both back in the picture the intelligence community will be buzzing like a wasp nest. For the moment, Miles, you're safer dead."

  "But why on earth would they think that?" Miles asked.

  "I don't know." Briers felt his fury rise again. "Maybe because of the man who had been shot in the back of the skull, and that without a face to go by they saw the Huntsman tweeds and shoes by Loakes and jumped to a bloody conclusion?"

  "Oh, good grief," Lady Siward's hand covered her mouth. "How horrible."

  "Allerdale," Miles snapped, "I'd prefer it if you moderated your language in front of my mother."

  Miles only broke out the surnames when really irritated. With his kohl-rimmed eyes flashing with annoyance he looked magnificent. Briers couldn't wait to get the little toad on his own to demonstrate just how glad he was to see him. He wanted to grab him and cover him with kisses, but here and now affection was out of the question so needling him would have to do.

  "I sincerely apologise, Lady Siward. As you can imagine it has been rather a hectic morning since word came through."

  "Apology accepted, Mr Allerdale, but I am very eager that my husband should be informed of our safety.”

  "I'll send word to the Ambassador," Briers promised, "but first the hows and whys."

  "We couldn’t wait for Miss Carey." Miles offered. He looked serious and businesslike, now, but when he met Briers gaze his eyes were warm. "I managed to disable and subdue the first man into the room. He said he was room service, but no hotel porter I've ever seen wore boots that dirty. I coshed him and hog-tied him with the curtain ropes. He was alive enough to be very foul-mouthed so I dumped him in the bath and shut the door on him. He was very much alive and fully clothed when we left - which was pretty rapidly, I can tell you. He implied that if he didn't report back in good time they'd storm the building."

  "I wasn't prepared to risk the civilians," Lady Siward said. "And since we had ample materials for this subterfuge and Miles seemed confident he could pull it off, we thought, 'why not?' Oh, Mr Allerdale," Lady Siward’s eyes lit up, "I would never have believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it. I so regret never seeing Miles as Portia or Rosalind when he was at college.”

  Miles had flushed a becoming pink. "Ma wore my overcoat and my hat, and I used some of the clothing from Diana Carey's case. I'll need to compensate her; I'm sure I felt a shoulder seam give as I was getting off the train."

  "Yes, train!" Briers interrupted. "Why not get a cab to the embassy?"

  Lady Siward picked up the story again. "A cab meant crossing the whole town centre, and there was a railway station just a few hundred yards away. The less time we were exposed the better. We intended to catch a train and ring up the embassy from a safe place but left a couple of notes just in case. I can't imagine what became of them. I have reliable friends with a telephone in Caracal, so we hopped onto the first train available."

  "The first available train to Caracal was the slow train to Belgrade," Miles said. "We saw a couple of ugly customers on the platform at Caracal so Ma wanted to stay on board and then," he met Briers eyes, "it seemed best to come here, where I knew we'd find professional help. We'd have taken a cab to your office if you hadn't been here."

  In other words Miles had panicked a bit, but Briers couldn't possibly blame him for that. He'd done something similar himself a year or two into his first posting, and he hadn't had his mother with him then.

  "Well," Briers said. "This might actually be for the best. If the opposition are looking for you in Bucharest or on the way to Constanta - nice thinking, by the way Lady S - a trip home from Belgrade might be arranged by air. First, though, we let the Old Man know so he can pass on the glad tidings, and then we arrange your accommodation."

  "Can you recommend a hotel?" Lady Siward gestured to their bags.

  "Not on your life," Briers laughed. "I'm not chancing you being spotted on the street. We'll stay here tonight: Lady S, you can have my room - it's a bit tidier than in here - and Miles and I can camp out here. It won’t hurt either of us to sleep on the floor."

  "Well if you're certain," Lady Siward said. "And, um, I would rather like to freshen up a bit."

  "Of course, there's every convenience just through here." Briers stepped into the hall and cracked the door of the bathroom, thanking the gods of chance that he'd given it a bit of a clean just the day before. "And there's a jar with bani for the gas heater by the sink."

  Lady Siward stared at him and Miles ch
uckled. "Come on, Ma," he said, offering his arm, "and I'll show you how the other half lives."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Miles

  Lady Siward grasped the principles of gas water-heaters very rapidly and Miles helped her to fill the bath, fetched her dressing-case, then left her to it. Back in the living room, he smiled to see Briers leaning against the writing desk with the stick and earpiece of the phone in his hands.

  "That's fine. If he's busy just take a message up and give it to Mr Bassett to pass on," Briers said. He grinned at Miles. "Tell him that both the packages that went astray have turned up. Yes, I've got them here, the wrapping's a bit battered but, honestly, it's looking pretty good. No, just delivered to the wrong address, that's all. But here's the important bit - can you ask him to get in touch with the senders and tell them that both parcels have been found in reasonable condition? Both. I'm sure they've been wondering. So there's no need for a courier to go there and collect; I'll take them on their way, personally. Fastest possible means of transport, if you please. And he'll need to inform the London office. Got all that all right? Yes, immediately. He'll be wanting to know." Briers grinned again. "Of course I'll check the contents carefully for damage. Oh yes, a thorough inspection. You can be sure of that." With a terse goodbye he hung up the earpiece and set the telephone down.

  "Damaged wrapping eh?" Miles said and rolled the shoulder with the parted seam. "Thorough inspection?"

  "Every. Fucking. Inch." Briers took two paces and resumed the grip interrupted on the stairs. Miles barely had a moment to see the rising warmth in his eyes, then their mouths came together in a much-needed kiss. It took a while before they could bear to pull away from each other, and even then it wasn't far.

  "God, I needed that." Briers sighed against Miles's temple, his hands moving, as though to reassure himself that Miles was all in one piece.

  Miles pressed his face into Briers's neck, slid both arms inside his jacket and clenched his fists on the back of Briers's Fair Isle pullover. He took a big breath of clean manly scent that melted away the knot of tension that had been cramping his neck since the first shot the day before.

  "All I could think of was getting to Belgrade and praying that you were still here," he whispered. "It wasn't until we arrived that it occurred to me I might be putting you in a really awkward position."

  "I don't mind that at all," Briers said. He groaned and tilted Miles's face up to kiss him again, with less desperation but a bit more purpose. He also brought his knee forward, his thigh applying pressure in the most delicious way. "Is your mum a fast bather? How long have we got?"

  "Like lightning, so not long enough for what I want," Miles muttered and bit his lip as Briers’s knee moved. "How soundproof are your walls?"

  "Hardly at all," Briers scowled.

  "Then it'll be like Albert Road all over again," Miles said. "With us both being very restrained, despite all the surreptitious teasing - " he ran the palm of his hand down the front of Briers's flannels, found the gratifying bulge and gave it a little squeeze " - and looking forward to bedtime."

  "Oh, you little rat," Briers gritted between his teeth. "For that you'll be biting the pillow tonight."

  "Oh yes? After the twenty-four hours I've had the least you could do is offer to toss me for it." The emphasis Miles put on 'toss' brought a big grin to Briers's face.

  "Well, that was what I had in mind for right now." The pressure of Briers's thigh against Miles's erection became too much to endure, so Miles stepped away.

  "We've waited six months," Miles said, aware that his voice was quivering. "Why rush when we can wait a few more hours and take our time? So, what's the plan? I know you've got one."

  "Not really interested in any plan that doesn't involve you and me naked with a pot of Vaseline." Briers made vague grabbing motions at Miles, then sighed again and rolled his eyes. "Oh, if we must be practical ... Well, first I need to make arrangements to feed us all. I might risk taking you out to my usual eatery, but it's not fit for your mother, and I honestly never bother much with cooking apart from coffee. I even buy breakfast on my way to work."

  "If you can get some basics, Ma and I might surprise you with how domesticated we can be. She didn't always have staff to rely on, and when I was laid up in the spring Ron gave me cooking lessons to while away the time. What the heck's that noise?"

  "Probably my stomach. I missed breakfast because I thought someone was fucking dead."

  "Oh, Briers." They paused for another reassuring kiss, then the appalling rattle happened again. "That wasn't your stomach."

  "No, it's an airlock in the drain. Happens every time I empty the bath," Briers said. "It'll clear in a moment - ah there it goes. She'll be out just now, I bet. Dear God, you look good enough to eat, but do you want to change? I’m sure I can find something that would fit."

  “To be honest, I’m quite comfortable. I’ve had a rough twenty-four hours, too, you know.”

  “And Millie is always a comfort. How did your mother take the - er - change?”

  “At first like the professional diplomatic adornment she is. But then, dear Lord, she began to have fun. You know, Briers, I suspect she’s always longed for a daughter - or the right sort of daughter-in-law. It - it’s nice. I’m enjoying it too.”

  “Oh, Miles.” Briers didn’t say anything else but the pressure of his arms across Miles’s back and the gentle drift of his lips expressed far more than words.

  Rather more purposeful sounds from the bathroom caused them to break apart and Miles turned to find a mirror and check that he didn't look too flushed. He looked at reflected Briers and smiled. "Have I told you how much I've missed you? How much I was looking forward to January and surprising you with my culinary skills - amongst other things?"

  "Same here," Briers murmured. "I was looking forward to surprising you with a few things too. But, Miles, you're here now, and in a few hours - you lovely little tart - I'm going to suck you until you scream. Ah," he raised his voice cheerfully as the bathroom door opened, "and here's the rest of the family. I was just saying to Miles, Lady S, that there's a bakery a few streets away that makes the most delicious blackberry tarts topped with kirsch-flavoured cream. I thought I might go and fetch us some supplies."

  "What a grand idea." Miles couldn't see his mother in the mirror, and at that moment didn't dare turn around for fear of making a spectacle of himself, but she sounded as though she was smiling. "Perhaps we could make a list?"

  "I was just looking for paper for that very purpose," Miles said, spotting and seizing a notepad and pencil. With that as a shield he felt able to turn round. Ma was pink and giggling as Briers ceremoniously seated her in the best chair, then stooped to kiss the back of her hand. Miles's heart swelled with the absolute contentment of having the two people he loved most getting on so well together.

  "Ma, stop vamping him," he said. "We need the poor fellow to have a clear head. Now," he sat down, pencil poised, "what shall we get?"

  #

  They spent the rest of the morning amusing themselves as best they could. Briers had a wireless so they could keep abreast of the news; there was also a chess set and cards, books, and a vast array of characters passing outside the window. Also, conversation. Miles was pleased to see how Briers warmed to Ma's careful probing, and amused when Briers took a moment to mutter "The woman's a menace, half an hour and I'd be spilling all my secrets."

  "Well, that's rather what seems to have got us into this situation in the first place," Miles pointed out.

  "I'm not complaining," Briers said. "It's brilliant practice!" And he went back to Ma's side and asked a question about the security of the embassy that he really shouldn't have been asking.

  At noon they had a telephone call that made Briers grin, and shortly after there was a knock at the door. "Hey, Bassett," Briers said. "So good of you to come round."

  Bassett was a cheerful rounded chap with gold-rimmed glasses - Miles had heard the name and it was nice to put a face to i
t - and he grunted as he stepped inside. "You lucky hound," he said, once the door was closed. "Only you could finesse a breakneck journey to Bucharest into a leisurely jolly to London. Oh, good morning, or rather good afternoon, Lady Siward." He doffed his hat, then spotted Miles and stared. "Is that... ?"

  "Yes," Briers snapped, "now hand it over."

  "All right, there's actually no rush for once." Bassett gave Miles another admiring glance, which made Miles wonder if he had more in common with Briers than place of work, then took a thick envelope out of his briefcase and put it into Briers's hand. "I just need to get a photo of Lady Siward and we'll have a good set of papers for her by the morning. I'll drop it round first thing."

  Briers grunted his approval then glared at the topmost papers. "I thought we were going by plane?"

  "Sorry," Bassett shrugged. "Cold front coming in from the north and they're anticipating bad weather. Rather than taking a chance they've decided to send you by train. "

  "Not a slow train?" Briers said, glumly.

  "Good grief, no!" Bassett grinned. "First class all the way for our visitors. We've booked you on the ten-thirty express to Budapest."

  "Really?" Miles glanced at Ma. "Isn't that a bit frying pan to fire? I understood that since Prime Minister Bethlen resigned - "

  "Of course, that was a bit of a shock - and conditions there are, shall we say, excitable?"

  "That's a mild description, I'd have thought."