Laurence Hardacre stopped for a moment in
the hall, checked that Mr Ismay was nowhere to be seen, and then pulled on his
gardening gloves. He had about twenty minutes before his master came home from
his meeting at the University and he had somehow found time to spend it in the
garden. There was so much to do, but at least he could make a start; he could prune
back some of the spring foliage and prepare for the summer blooms.
The door opened in
front of him and a rather flustered John raced through it. He hurried through
the hallway, murmuring ‘stay there for a second, Laurence – I need to show you
something… ’ then he disappeared into his study.
Hardacre allowed
himself a brief, deep sigh, and began to peel off his gloves. He took a few
steps back so that he could see the garden through a side window. It looked
rather overgrown but so inviting: he’d got so close.
He forced himself to
focus on something else, and so his mind moved on to his travelling clothes –
he sensed that he’d need them again very soon. He also remembered with a shock
that he no longer had a hyper-dimensional bag and so everything would have to
be packed in a conventional one.
John reappeared with
a piece of paper. He was quite
breathless. He waved the paper in Hardacre’s face.
‘I think that I’ve
tracked down Macrocephalos; but we have to hurry if we want to talk to him. He’s
giving a talk in Ponwy tomorrow. So, you’ll have to get your skates on…’
Hardacre’s eyes
widened no more than a fraction.
‘I will, will I,
sir?’
John nodded.
‘I can’t go – he’ll
know immediately who I am…’
‘Will that matter?
Why shouldn’t you go to one of his lectures and talk to him?’
‘Ah well, it’s a bit
more complicated than that…’
‘And why is that, sir?’
John was still excited,
but he hesitated before answering.
‘Because he’s talking
at a secret CRS meeting, we believe’
Hardacre’s face
betrayed no emotion.
‘I see, sir. So,
you’d like me to spend an evening at a CRS meeting. I’m wondering – should I
pack some sandwiches or do you think that a light supper will be provided?’
John wrinkled up his
face. He should have realised that this would happen. Once again he had got
caught up in the moment and had not thought things through fully.
‘I suppose I could find someone else…’ he
said, his voice weakening
Hardacre blinked
twice and swallowed. His expression changed not one mote but John had learned
to recognise all of these tics as indicating extreme shock.
‘Am I to assume that
you have some doubts about my ability to complete this mission, councillor?’
John sighed and
glared.
‘Don’t punish me,
Laurence – you know how these things work…’
Hardacre turned
briskly on his heels and walked towards the stairs. He didn’t look back.
‘I need to go and pack’
he said, and then he was gone.
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