Stealth Associates Pt. 04

"Who?" She raises a confused eyebrow.

"She was in the Avengers..."

"There's no one called that in the Avengers shug," she interrupts me, "unless it's the Wasp's real name."

"Not Marvel's Avengers, the real ones, the British TV spy show from the sixties," she keeps giving me a blank expression, "they're on Britbox, we binge watch them one weekend, it'll be fun."

"OK babe," Nell sounds as enthusiastic about that as I would if she invited me to binge watch Strictly Come Dancing. She purses her lips and takes a sip of wine,

"damn that's just what I need."

We chat and drink. The pub begins to fill as rush hour drags itself into early evening. It seems that most of the regulars at this time on a Friday are commuters, manager misters by the look of them, and they cloister round the bar making with boisterous banter. School's out and the weekend starts here.

A big guy walks in. He's bulky, bald and walk with the same wide-legged gate as Pitbull Terrier. He pushes his way to the bar, shouldering some of the regulars aside. The human Pitbull is oblivious to the dirty looks he's attracting, he just doesn't give a damn.

"So babe, I got myself a new jam jar," Nell's dabbling with Brit speak again, dropping British slang into the conversation.

"What did you get?"

"Only a Porsche baby, a Boxter, and it's a convertible," she beams with pride and excitement, "I'm gonna give y'all a ride in it back to my place after we've finished up here."

"OK," I nod enthusiastically.

I'm spending the weekend at her place. There's no need for me to worry about not having a change of underwear or toiletries. My toothbrush, a pair of jeans and a three pack of Sainsbury's men's briefs have taken up residence in Nell's flat. It's now become sort of assumed by both of us that when I graduate and I'm no longer eligible to live in student accommodation I'll move in with her.

"My round, yeah?" she holds up her wine glass and waggles it at me, "I drove over, so no more of these for me, I'm gonna get an orange juice, I don't want to fall foul of a British Bobby's sobriety test."

She heads for the bar and the Pitbull. My Spidey sense starts tingling. I sit a little straighter in my chair and watch, aware that this unsavoury character could cause trouble.

Nell speaks to the Pitbull. She's got her back to me and there's too much noise for me to hear what's been said, but I assume that she's asked him to budge up. He makes a big production out of standing aside, even sarcastically pantomiming bowing and scraping to her.

While she stands waiting for the barmaid to notice her, Pitbull edges closer to her and whispers something in her ear, then stands back grinning Nell doesn't respond to whatever he says to her. In fact she makes a thing out of not responding, turning stiffly and walks towards me without being served.

At that moment Baldy faces me. He grins, our eyes lock and winks.

"You OK?" I ask as soon as Nell sits down.

"We should go," she says tersely. Her lips are tight and she screws her fists up until her knuckles are white.

"What did he say to you?"

"He asked me if you know that I'm a... he called me a tranny," she replies, "then said you looked like you had a micro dick, but if he screwed my ass I'd be walking funny."

"I'll make the bastard walk funny!" I snarl quietly.

I'm half way out of my seat when Nell grabs my hand.

"Babe, I'm touched that y'all want to defend my honour, but it's nothing that I haven't heard before," she says sadly, "I guess we should head back to my place and order in from Uber Eats."

We stand and walk out of the pub. I make a big thing out of holding Nell's hand in mine. I wonder if the Pitbull can take a hint.

+++

53 - Head On

Nell handles the Porsche with skill and panache. She obviously likes speed, but more than that she obviously likes to be in the drivers seat. This probably explains why she's a bit shy about riding on the pillion of my motorbike, where she's not in control.

We're taking the long way back to the city. This means heading out onto Cannock Chase, a forested area that's allegedly home to werewolves, big cats, hell, there's even been reports of Bigfoot stamping about round here.

The road's a narrow back country lane that will eventually link up to the A34 main road to take us into Birmingham. Right now the road follows the undulating terrain.

"Used to be I couldn't hack a stick shift," she puts the clutch in, nonchalantly slips from third to fourth gear and let the clutch out, "but almost every car's a stick shift over here, so I've had to get used to it. I don't have problems now, besides, it'd be pointless having an automatic gearbox on a performance car like this."

Nell's showing off her new toy. She's trying to impress me with the skill she handles the sports car. To be honest, it's working.

"So I didn't buy the car, I got a lease," she guides the car through a sweeping turn, "there are drawbacks, I guess the main one being I'll never own the car, but the benefits are the lease company picks up the tab for maintenance and repairs. Hell, they even tax and insure the thing for me. Pretty much all I've got to do is put gas in the tank."

"Sounds like you got a good deal love."

She gives me a swift eyes left and smiles. It seems that my approval is important to her. She flicks a quick glance in the mirror and gives an annoyed snort.

"Y'all have made me kinda paranoid babe."

"Why?" suddenly my Spidey sense's tingling again, "what's the problem?"

"I got some asshole tailgating me," she replies, "now I can't get it out of my head that we're... what's the phrase you used?"

"Wagging a tail?"

"Yeah."

I pull the sun visor down and angle it so I can use the vanity mirror to check out what's going on behind us. I can see headlights, a mile or so behind, playing peek-a-boo as they sank into a dip before climbing to the rise of a crest.

"Do you think we got a tail?" she asks.

"Don't know, yet," I reply yet. "But this makes the presence of that hulking great brute of a human Pitbull back in the pub seems less and less like a coincidence."

"I think y'all are right," she says through tight lips.

"Ease up on the speed," I speak as calmly as I can.

"Say what now?" she sounds alarmed, "they'll be right up my ass."

"Let them, I want to see how they react" I tell her. "If they overtake us we don't have a problem, but if they don't overtake..."

"...We got a real big problem," she says tensely, and lifts her foot off the accelerator to bleed off speed.

The following headlights clear the rise fast. The driver sees that we've slowed down and accelerates fast. The car, a Subaru Impreza, overtakes us fast and close. Just as I'm about to let out the breath I've been holding since Nell slowed down, the tailing car's rear end clips the Porsche's drives side front wing.

+++

54 - Run Hide, Fight

The Porsche ran out of road and nose dived into the vegetation at the side of the road. It came to a halt suddenly enough to activate the air bags. It takes a few long seconds for Nell and I to regain our senses.

"Debus!" I tell her.

"What?" she sounds confused.

"Out!" I snap, "get out!"

We're out of the car and charging through the bracken. We come to a a long shallow rut in the ground, possibly the remains of one of the training trenches dug during World War One and lie low panting and sweating from a combination of effort and stress.

"So what do we do now?" Nell puffs.

"I'll phone the police," I tell her, "and say that a dickhead's forced us off the road."

"You mean you don't have a special number to call that'll whip up a black ops team?"

"Nope," I shake my head, "unfortunately this is the real world."

My thumb dabs the nine button three times. We wait with baited breath, listening to the dialling tone on speaker-phone.

The car that hit us had charged off down the road, but now it's returned and pulled up. Pitbull get out and goes up to the Porsche. He opens the door and looks inside.

"Hello, emergency services, do you require police, fire or ambulance?" a man's voice asks.

"Police," I hiss hoarsely.

"Putting you through."

"They're very polite," Nell grunts softly.

"Yeah I'll give them that," I reply. "Do you recognise tall, dark and ugly over there?"

"That's him!" Nell gasps and nods in the direction of the biggest of the four, "that's the asshole who insulted me in the bar."

"Your phone's got video you can use in the dark hasn't it?" I ask.

She doesn't reply but roots about in the pocket of her jacket. She pulls the phone out and starts videoing.

"Staffordshire Police," a female voice from my own phone announces, "what's your emergency?"

"We've just been forced off the road," I tell her.

"You've been forced of the road," the call handler repeats what I've said, "were you in a car?"

I want to make a sarcastic comment, suggest we were in a flying saucer, but what's the point?

"Yeah!" Nell leans over and snaps at my phone, "my brand new Porsche which is now pretty much wrecked."

Having confirmed that we're not hiding in or around the car, Pitbull's pulled his own phone out of his pocket and is using it as a torch.

"There was a car tailgating us, it was a deliberate attempt to force us off the road."

"Are you at the accident site now?"

"No, we're in the woods about a hundred metres away, but we can see our car," I tell the call handler. "The driver of the other car's got out and is searching for us."

"Where are you located?"

"I'm not sure, we were heading across the Chase from Penkridge to the A34."

"OK I can find you using your phone signal. Just hold on and I'll get someone to you."

Pitbull reaches behind his back. His hand re-emerges, there's something in it.

"Jesus Christ!" Nell gasps, "he's got a gun."

"What's that?" the call answer picks up on Nell's comment. "Did you just say the man looking for you is armed? Are you sure?"

"I'm an American damn it, I was brought up around guns. I know what a one looks like," Nell snaps back.

"So you're certain he's armed?"

"Lady, I'm videoing this on my God damned phone," Nell hisses, "when y'all find our dead bodies you guys can watch it and confirm it for yourselves."

"OK, stay calm, there are people on the way to you," the call handler's trying to sound reassuring, "I've put out an urgent response call, there will be someone with you within five minutes."

The four of them spread out in a line with their backs to the Porsche. They begin to walk slowly forwards, like beaters at a pheasant shoot.

"They're coming straight for us," I his urgently to the woman on the other end of the line, "we might not have five minutes."

"Stay on the line," the woman urges us, "somebody will be with you very soon."

"Run, hide, fight," I mutter, "we've done the first two."

"Say what now?"

"We've run and hidden," I whisper, "now it's time to do the last. Fight."

"What y'all got in mind?"

"See the way he's searching for us?" I ask, "he's far enough away from us that if we lie doggo he'll walk right past us. When he does we ambush the bugger from behind."

"Please don't do that," the voice of Staffordshire Police interrupts our impromptu planning session. "This could be a dangerous man. Stay hidden help is on the way."

"Keep your hair on." I reply, "we know what we're doing."

In the distance I hear the sound of a siren and hope that it's the cavalry coming to our rescue. But on the off chance that it's an ambulance or a fire engine and it'll come nowhere need us, we'd better be prepared to defend ourselves.

The flashing blue lights are getting closer. Meanwhile Pitbull stops looking for Nell and stiffens when he notices the approaching police cars. He turns and heads back to his car and gets the hell away before the fuzz arrive.

"I feel kinda cheated," Nell announces as we stand, "I was really looking forwards to getting some payback on that asshole for wrecking my new car."

"He had a gun and we're unarmed, don't you think we might've had a few issues?" I ask thoughtfully. "Now we're in a really tough spot."

"How come?"

"The police are going to stick their beaks in," I sigh, "which means I've got to answer their questions and then go through the some thing with our Duty Officer via Teams. Oh, and come Monday Dirty Harriet's going take the piss out of me under guise of an inquiry."

+++

55 - Glorious

It's Sunday evening and the train's taking us back to Birmingham after a weekend break in a country house hotel in leafy Warwickshire. It was a good time and more than anything else, a necessary period of R and R for us both.

The idea of spending the weekend in country came as an impulse on my part. I literally dreamt it up. I woke early and was aware that I wanted to cheer Nell up after the nasty sod who insulted her on Friday evening in the Greylag goose. Oh, and then tried to kill us by running us off the road, damn near writing off her new Porsche in the process.

Yeah, under the circumstances Nell needs to have her spirits lifted. Who wouldn't?

I woke up earlier than Nell and sneaked into the living room where I fired up my laptop and booked us into a country house hotel. Next I added first class train tickets and the job's a good un'.

Nell is still asleep when I sort out the surprise. I came into the bedroom with her breakfast on a tray and the reservations printed out. To say she was gobsmacked is putting it mildly.

It's really the first of two surprises I've got planned for this weekend. To be honest, however, the second surprise is a lot less spontaneous than the weekend in Stratford. I've been planning this for weeks, well, months really I suppose. To be honest, the only thing that's been preventing me is a spot of bottle trouble on my part, I just can't summon up the courage to go through with it.

The hotel's website says: "the grandeur of this Neo-Gothic mansion may be almost overwhelming at first sight, but once inside you can expect the warmest of welcomes as well as indulgent bedrooms and irresistible cuisine." For once the real thing lives up to the hype.

That evening as we walk into the restaurant for dinner I stuff my free hand into my jacket pocket and nervously check that my ultimate surprise for Nell's still in there.

I steel my resolve and bring my hand out of my pocket. We're seated at a table next to a big picture window, it gives a vista out over the parkland and the sight of deer coming to a trough for an evening drink.

"Nell, when we went on this break there was something I wanted to say to you, ah well, maybe I mean ask you," I tell her. "It involves giving you something, this..."I reach back into my pocket and loosen the drawstring on the burgundy velvet bag to show her what's inside.

"What?" she looks surprised "what y' got there hun?"

"A ring; nine carat white gold, with a solitaire claw-set pear cut diamond, surrounded by a mini halo of sparkling round stones. A total stone weight of point three of a carat to be precise," I say, "at least that's what the bloke at H Samuel told me when I bought it."

I don't point out that the ring set me back twelve hundred quid, or that it's been living for the last month in the one part of my student flat I know that Nell won't look - my underwear draw. It was there until Friday morning when I finally summoned up the courage to propose to her. I'd planned to ask her on Friday night, but the clowns who ran us off the road spoiled that.

Nell is, frankly, blindsided. She has no idea that I've been planning to propose to her, let alone that I already had the ring.

"Should I get down on one knee?" I ask.

"Later maybe babe," she grins wickedly, "when I've got you upstairs alone."

Out of the corner of my eye I can see a knot of waitresses dressed in black dresses with white collars and aprons watching us intently. They're joined by a bloke in a suit who ushers them back to work.

"In that case; Nell Madison Mackenzie, will you marry me?"

"Yes sweetheart, of course I will."

I slip the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. From out of nowhere a waitress appears at our table with an ice bucket on a stand and two champagne flutes. She opens a bottle of Brut Réserve and pours for us.

"With the compliments of the house," the waitress smiles, "and congratulations on your engagement."

"Damn they're good," Nell gasps after the waitress retreats. "They see you propose to me and make with the chilled fizz.'

"Eh up lass, y' aren't wrong. But if y' want quality y' must pay a pretty penny for it," I reply in my best Yorkshire accent, "and trust me, this place is top quality."

When we do finally get upstairs we don't head straight to bed to celebrate our engagement. Instead Nell pulls her phone out and hits the speed dial for home. It's early evening in Texas.

"Hey Mom, yeah, ah, no everything's cool here now, I'm gonna get the accident sorted with the leasing company Monday. How are you and dad?"

I listen to the one sided conversation for a while but eventually head for the minibar and break out a miniature Glenfiddich that will probably cost more than a full bottle from a supermarket. I sit back in a leather Chesterfield and continue to monitor the phone call with one ear though.

"I've kinda got some good news, well, pretty big news to tell you. You know me and David have been going steady, yeah? Well, this evening he popped the question." She pauses while he mum asks something and replies, "what do I mean popped the question? I mean he asked me to marry him." There's another longish pause before Nell says, "of course I said yes.'

I could hear the excited shriek from Nell's mum all the way from Texas and without the aid of a phone. It's safe to say that Mrs Mackenzie's happy with the news.

To be honest, I've never been offered the chance to speak to any of Nell's family.

That's almost immediately rectified.

"Mom, this is David," she changes to speaker phone and thrusts her phone under my nose.

"Ah, hello Mrs Mackenzie," I'm cautious. Perhaps understandably, this is the first time I've been introduced to my soon to be mum-in-law.

"So, you must be the David she's always talking about," Nell's mum gushes excitedly. "Oh, is it David or is it Dave?'

"I really don't mind either Mrs Mackenzie.'

"Mrs Mackenzie is my mom, now you call me Eleanor, y' hear.'

"Yes, ah, Eleanor.'

"So when are we gonna meet y'all face-to-face?"

"Maybe after finals," I suggest and glance at Nell.

"Yeah mom, in the summer, we'll come to the States in the summer."

The rest of the conversation with my soon to be mother-in-law is hazy. A combination of wine and fizz at dinner followed by the scotch may have something to do with that.

Sunday has flown by. A big breakfast is followed by activities; Nell opts for a spa treatment while I head off to the gym in an effort to work off my hangover.

Lunch is the traditional British roast, a choice of beef, lamb, turkey or a vegan option. Nell keeps taking sneaky peeks at her left hand. Evidently the experience of wearing an engagement ring's something that will take some getting used to. I'm just glad the ring fits.

After lunch we spend time walking in the hotel's grounds. Now Nell's snoozing with her head on my shoulder now, her arm is wrapped around mine. My earbuds are pumping Glorious by Andreas Johnson into my head, and it reflects the way I feel with Nell's warm body snuggled up next to mine.

Nell's eyes blink open and she smiles. She raises her left hand, looks at the new jewellery on her left hand. Her smile becomes broader and she kisses me on the cheek.

"Babe," she whispers, "you're all mine now."