The Nemesis Program. Scott Mariani

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       Chapter Four

      Ben and Roberta left her blue Vauxhall and followed the footpath that skirted the edge of the sunlit park. They’d spoken little during the short drive through the village. Ben could feel the tension emanating from her. Whatever was scaring her, it seemed genuine, but he didn’t know what to say. He waited for her to speak first.

      Perhaps because of the unseasonal heat, or perhaps because the new generation of British kids preferred to sit stuffing their mouths at the computer rather than play outdoors any longer, the park was almost deserted. In the distance, a petite young mother was lifting her son of four or five onto one of the swings. An elderly, fragile-looking couple were making their slow way arm-in-arm along the footpath towards Ben and Roberta. As they passed, they both smiled at Ben and greeted him with a reverential ‘Good day to you, Vicar’. Taken aback for an instant, Ben managed to mumble a reply that seemed to please the old folks before they hobbled on.

      ‘Sure fooled them,’ Roberta said drily. After a pause she added, ‘So if you’re not an ordained minister—’

      ‘I’m not.’

      ‘—isn’t it against their rules to wear that outfit? Kind of like impersonating an officer or something?’

      ‘It was only meant to be … oh, never mind. Just don’t look at me.’

      ‘That’s hard to do. You have no idea how weird it is for me to see you dressed like that.’

      ‘That makes two of us,’ Ben replied. ‘But it’s a sight we may all have to get used to.’

      ‘You’re not kidding, are you?’

      ‘This is the future I’m set on now, Roberta. It always was, I think. Just took me a long time getting there.’

      ‘I had no idea there was this side to you.’

      ‘There are a few things you don’t know about me.’

      ‘Pretty major life change,’ she said. ‘Especially for you, of all people.’

      ‘I just want a life of peace,’ he said. ‘I made a vow to Brooke that that’s how things would be from now on. Settle down, try to do something better with my life. No more crazy stuff.’

      ‘You doing it for yourself, or for her?’ Roberta asked a little too sharply, then immediately made an apologetic gesture. ‘I take that back. None of my business, I guess.’

      Ben didn’t reply. The footpath ran alongside an old stone wall, through the trees on the other side of which could be seen the heavy machinery and distant half-erected buildings where a construction company were putting up the new housing estate after the villagers’ protracted protests against expansion had been overruled by the local council. The workmen seemed to be packing up early for the day, vehicles rumbling out of the site’s mesh gates.

      ‘Let’s sit,’ Ben said a few yards further on, motioning towards a green park bench under the shade of the trees.

      Roberta nodded. She sat on the bench beside him and gazed across the park in the direction of the kiddies’ roundabout and swings in the distance. They could hear the child’s gurgling laughter as his mother began to swing him gently back and forth.

      Ben said, ‘Start from the beginning.’

      ‘Claudine and I went back a long way. When I was teaching in Paris years ago, she used to lecture at the Sorbonne. We met through some mutual acquaintance I don’t even remember now. We hit it off, became friends, stayed that way ever since. After I went to live in Canada she used to call me every so often, birthdays, Christmas, and emailed me now and then to keep me updated about her work projects. Some of them were real fascinating. I hadn’t heard from her in a little while, just assumed she must be busy at work or something. Then yesterday, I get this letter from her by registered mail.’ Roberta glanced anxiously at Ben. ‘I thought it was strange that she’d write me that way, instead of the usual email. When I opened it I saw it was more like a note, real short, and you could see it was written in a hurry. She said she was in deep trouble, that she was certain she was being followed and that something bad was going to happen to her. Said not to contact her by email or phone because they’d know. They were watching every move she made.’

      ‘Who was?’ Ben asked.

      ‘If she knew, she didn’t say.’

      ‘Have you got the letter with you? Can I see it?’

      She shook her head. ‘The Paris cops have it now.’

      ‘Did СКАЧАТЬ