The Spy Who Loved Me

"Practically home from home," I smiled.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," said Beth. "If you need anything, there's a phone by the bed, just dial 134 – that's me. Otherwise I'll come by about seven to take you to breakfast."

I thanked her, then as the door closed behind her I sat down on the bed, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

After a while I decided to take a shower before bed, finding soap and shampoo in the generously-sized cubicle. I dried myself with one of the large fluffy towels, then cleaned my teeth.

I realised I didn't have any nightwear, but I shrugged, deciding it didn't matter. I got into bed, and switched out the light, and despite the thoughts still whirling in my head, I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

***

When I woke in the morning, I was temporarily disoriented, then the events of the previous day flooded back. I lay for a while, wondering what today would hold. A flight to Geneva, I reminded myself.

I decided to shower again, grateful for the apparently limitless supply of hot water, and I was just coming back into the bedroom in a towelling robe when I heard a knock on the door.

I opened it to see Beth standing there, a large bag in each hand. "I brought clothes for you," she said.

She came into the room and began to lay items out on the bed. "Underwear, of course. Skirts, blouses, a couple of dresses for the evenings. And I found you a pair of jeans, I hope they're a good fit."

She glanced at her watch. "Do you think you can dress and pack in half an hour?"

I nodded. "No problem."

When Beth had gone, I sat down for a moment looking at the clothes she'd brought. Despite what she'd said about knowing my favourite brands, most of the garments were much more expensive than I'd have been able to select for myself.

"Your taxes at work," I said under my breath, smiling.

I dressed, feeling the unaccustomed luxury of the underthings, and choosing a low-key skirt and blouse combination for the long day's travelling ahead.

Just as I finished fastening the catch on the suitcase I'd found in the bottom of one of the wardrobes, I heard Beth's distinctive knock again.

"Come in," I called.

She walked in, and nodded approvingly at my outfit and the closed suitcase.

"Leave the case here, the driver will pick it up. Come and have some breakfast."

She led me back past the conference room and into a spacious, well-lit dining room. Tim was already sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Morning, Jenny. You OK?" he asked.

I nodded. "What's the situation outside?"

Tim glanced at Beth. "There haven't been any more explosions," she said. "Things are getting back to normal – you'll be able to take a scheduled flight to Switzerland. And we have some more leads."

"That's good," I said. I took a roll and started to butter it, while Tim poured coffee for me.

When we'd finished breakfast, we went outside, and I looked around the Farm for the first time in daylight. We'd been in the main building, but other facilities – some with communication dishes – were dotted around the central space.

A car – I thought it looked the same as the one we'd travelled in the previous day – was already waiting, and Tim and I got in the back, Beth in the front. Again the partition closed off my view forwards, and I heard Beth's voice over the intercom.

"Sorry to keep you in the dark still, but the Farm is one of our key facilities, and the fewer people who know its exact location the better."

After a journey of about the same length as the previous evening, the car stopped and Tim held the door for me as I got out. I recognised the airport, though we seemed to be nowhere near the usual departure area.

"This way," indicated Tim. We went through a door into what was obviously a security area, and Tim motioned to me to pass through the scanner. I was relieved when the alarm didn't sound, and turned to wait for Tim.

As he passed through the arch, there was a loud beep, and Tim stopped. He reached inside his jacket and showed his gun, his hand spread flat, his fingers away from the trigger. The uniformed guard glanced at Beth, and nodded.

Tim holstered his weapon, and Beth said, "OK, this is where I leave you. Good luck."

To my surprise she leaned over to kiss first Tim, then me, on the cheek. I watched her walking back to the door, then turned back to Tim.

"She seems to really care," I said.

Tim nodded. "The training manual tells us to avoid getting too close to people, but Beth and I have worked together for years – it's just not possible."

"Are you two....?" I said, letting the end of my sentence hang in the air.

Tim shook his head, smiling. "Come on, we have a plane to catch."

We walked across the tarmac to where a stream of passengers were already boarding the aircraft. Tim showed his identification to the stewardess, and she smiled.

"Mr Scott, sir, welcome aboard. And your wife, too, of course."

I was momentarily confused, then smiled as we walked past her and up the stairs to the plane.

Another stewardess greeted us. "First class to the left, sir, madam."

Tim found our seats and we strapped in. He reached inside his jacket and produced a bundle of papers.

"Sorry," he said, "there wasn't time at breakfast to go through these with you. I'm Tom Scott, and you're my wife Jane. I'm over in Geneva on business, and you've come with me to do some sightseeing. We won't need much in the way of background for this trip, but read over these notes and remember as much as you can."

I took the papers and started to read, realising that my cover incorporated as much as possible of my real life – birthplace, education, jobs.

The plane's engines started to spool up, and I put the papers in my lap as we taxied down the runway. The sound of the engines built to a scream, and I closed my eyes as the plane lifted into the air.

"You OK?" asked Tim.

"Sure," I said. "My first time flying, though."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I never thought."

"It's OK. Actually I like it – the acceleration pushing me back into the seat, it's what I imagine it must be like being an astronaut."

"You do have some imagination," chuckled Tim. "Fortunately the food in first class is rather better than that 'food in a tube' the NASA guys used to have to put up with."

As if on cue, I saw a steward approaching with a tray. No trolley here, I thought.

"Drinks, sir, madam?"

Tim grinned. "Why not. It's a long flight, and we'll be arriving in the evening local time so we'll have to sleep when we arrive. Jane, what'll you have?"

I blinked at his use of my cover name, but managed to reply. "A Bloody Mary."

"And I'll have a vodka martini," grinned Tim. "Shaken, not stirred."

The steward departed, and I said in my best Sean Connery accent, "Sho, Mr Bond."

Tim smiled. "I really do like martini."

Our drinks arrived, and the steward offered us menus. I sipped my Bloody Mary – just the right amount of Worcestershire sauce – and looked at the choice of food.

"Can I really have a steak?" I grinned.

"Sure, why not."

The steward returned, and we ordered lunch. "I know it's not that long since breakfast," Tim said, "but we only get a snack towards the end of the flight. We can have dinner in Geneva."

When our lunch arrived I tried the steak. "Mm, delicious."

As we ate, I looked out at the clouds, still hardly believing where I was and what had happened in the last two days.

When we'd finished eating, Tim closed his eyes and settled back in his seat. "I always find the best way to deal with jetlag is to sleep whenever you can," he said.

"OK," I said, following his lead. The warmth of the cabin and the steady hum of the engines seemed to help lull me to sleep, and the next thing I knew was Tim softly touching my shoulder.

"We're only an hour or so out now," he said. "They'll be bringing refreshments again soon."

I saw the steward approaching with a tray of pastries. "Mm, Danish. Can I have the swirly one?"

I realised I must sound like a little girl, but Tim just smiled. "Sure."

We nibbled on our pastries and sipped coffee, and after a few minutes, the captain's voice came over the address system, announcing that we were beginning our descent into Geneva.

I fastened my lap belt, and glanced across at Tim. To my surprise, he looked a little nervous.

"Landing is my least favourite part," he said.

I reached over and rested my hand on his. "Maybe this'll help."

He nodded, and closed his eyes. The note of the engines changed, and the plane wobbled slightly as it hit some minor turbulence. I watched out of the window, fascinated, as the ground appeared to rush towards us, then there was the unmistakeable bump of the wheels hitting tarmac, and the engines went into full reverse, pushing me forwards against the strap across my stomach.

The plane slowed, and Tim opened his eyes, looking across at me. "Thanks."

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Geneva," announced the captain.

***