Chapter 57
In the building at Vauxhall Cross, known to some as Legoland and others as Babylon-on-Thames, Fionnula Bickford-Smythe, hair tied back in a ponytail, hints of grey, removed her reading glasses, gazed out of the window and looked forward to success in the recent round of interviews. It would mean a change of section but most importantly a change of office. A river view, not this, Vauxhall station and the Oval, awful! She turned around to the tap on the door.
“What now, Pippa?”
“I’ve just spoken with George Tambling. He confirms our friend is in Liverpool and wants to know if there is anything, in particular, you want him to do.” Pip smiled. She was a good looking girl though not one to stand out in a crowd; an asset in her line of business and, at thirty-five, ten years younger than her boss.
Bickford-Smythe, tired of the vista, sat down at her desk. “Do Five know?”
Pip’s expression surrendered nothing of her opinion of the woman in front of her. “No. We agreed at the meeting after the request that it would be better if they were left out of the loop, at least for the time being. Don’t you remember?”
Reading glasses back on, she sorted through some papers on her desk. She didn’t look up. “Well, tell Tambling to monitor and report for the time being. No action without my approval. I may have to refer this upwards. I don’t want any unfortunate incidents in the meantime.” She glanced up. “Why are you still here?”
Pip began to move but checked herself. It was a valid question. “What if something unexpected happens or a situation gets out of hand?”
Bickford-Smythe sighed and peered over her glasses, her irritability evident. “Well, then benign intervention only... and only if absolutely necessary. If there’s nothing else run along. I’ve a lot to get through.” She waved her hand dismissively.
From the safety of the corridor, Pip Scrivener clenched her fists, middle fingers extended, and waved them towards her boss like a juggler then returned to her tiny office with its view of the wall opposite.