They sat on the floor in what was left of the drawing room, drinking coffee, surrounded by packing cases. All of the furniture had gone and only ten cardboard boxes remained.
“I can’t believe I had so much stuff,” said Jack scratching his head.
“And even after all the things you got rid of,” said Charlie sitting cross-legged on a mat next to Gavin who was stroking her hand. “You call me a hoarder?”
“Maybe I’ll just leave it in storage forever. Get everything new,” he said, glancing at Caitlín and giving her a sly wink as one of the removal men appeared in the doorway.
“Can we take these now Mr Fleming?” Jack nodded and they all got to their feet to make space. “By the way, there’s a bloke outside with a Range Rover on a trailer.”
“Now that’s what I call impeccable timing. Now I can take you all out for lunch.”
“Thanks Dad,” said Charlie, “but Gavin and I are busy redecorating the flat, so we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, if that’s okay?”
***
It had taken four weeks to get the car back. The Irish police had confiscated it as evidence but ultimately, were satisfied it revealed nothing about the terrible events at Drumloghan and insurers had arranged for its return after a quick visit to the body shop. He faced no charges other than flying without a valid license, but they both remained under caution and could expect further interviews with the Garda, the PSNI and British police, as well as officers from the counter-terrorism branch.
They’d had a terrifying, but mercifully brief journey across the black void of the Irish sea, the lights on the Isle of Man affording a useful visual reference in the dark. Twenty minutes later, they’d made landfall north of Blackpool and been talked down by Manchester Airport ATC, landing in a remote corner of the airfield, where police were waiting to meet them. They’d been bundled into an ambulance, where paramedics examined them and treated Caitlín’s cuts and bruises.
Barry had raced up from Oxford after receiving Jack’s call and after an impassioned conversation from the cockpit of the Bell which had involved an excessive use of four-letter words, Jack had convinced him to alert Irish counterterrorism authorities to a giant underground arms cache at Larnock Castle. It helped that the police already knew of the murders at Drumloghan and had arrested the alleged perpetrators in their tiny getaway car. The three of them had been released under Barry’s supervision and driven back to Oxford where they spent the night in a five-star hotel.
BBC news soon reported the arrest of Rowan Maguire, his wife and a dozen other men on charges of murder, the accumulation of illegal arms, conspiracy to commit a terrorist attack, together with allegations of drug and people trafficking, prostitution and blackmail. In addition, administrators had taken control of RBM Industries, where its financial arrangements, including an overdue loan from an obscure Italian bank linked to the Vatican, were suspected to have contravened European money-laundering regulations. Both the debt owed to the Banco della Sorellanza and the balance held in a Swiss bank in the name of a Cayman Islands subsidiary had been frozen, pending investigation by SOCA and the FCA.
Jack had also returned to the news that a new cash offer of £3m had been made for Milton Aston, provided both parties could complete the transaction within a month.
“It’s all been a feckin’ whirlwind, so it has,” said Caitlín as they watched Gavin and Charlie pull out of the drive. “I just can’t believe what’s happened in the last few weeks. And now, we’re both homeless.”
“Never bothered you before. Maybe we should go house sitting?” She laughed and put her arm through his.
“I think my house sittin’ days are over, don’t you?”
“I hope so. Unless, of course, it’s my house.”
She frowned playfully at him. “Not sure you’ve grasped the concept here Jack. You don’t need a house sitter if you haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Is that how it works?” He pushed back her red hair and kissed her. “Shall we go get some lunch?”
“Aye. Then we need to find a nice place to spend the night.” She winked and he kissed her again.
“I know just the place.”
“Where?”
“Trust me.”