“We’re gonna have to improvise a bit here, I didn’t intend for us to have to go out this way,” Jimmy explained quickly. “These coats are gonna attract too much attention up here. We need to ditch ‘em and get something else, preferably servers or cleaners uniforms, something that the Ministers aren’t going to look too hard at. Simple.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ridley muttered.

Jimmy yanked open the door and the three of them walked out, their heads down as they made their way down one of the first spotlessly clean and well kept hallways Nairo had seen since entering the Houses. It had all the usual adornments of oil paintings and presumptuous furnishings but no blood or discarded weaponry. The floor was still quiet and the only noise to be heard came from inside the offices.

“This is about the time when the higher ups get their after lunch tea delivered to their offices,” Jimmy whispered. He then indicated over the balcony of the open foyer down to the floor below where they could see two servers pushing a silver cart with immaculate white linen and sparkling silverware. “Luckily, due to all the madness that goes on in these halls, there’s usually spare uniforms in the janitorial closets for any… mishaps.”

After taking a quick look around, Jimmy darted over to a dark, bland, wooden door with the words ‘Janitorial Store’ in peeling gold letters. Jimmy pulled the door open and they followed him in. The storeroom was cramped with barely enough space for the three of them, but Jimmy was right, there were spare uniforms folded neatly on a rack at the back of the closet. There were three pairs of trousers, shirts and waistcoats with little black bow ties.

“Good thing you two are average server height,” Jimmy said with a grin as he chucked the uniforms to them.

“How fortunate,” Ridley said, his eyes narrowing.

“Strip down and let’s get out of here,” Jimmy said, reaching up to yank off his shirt.

Nairo looked at Jimmy and Ridley with a pointed eyebrow.

“Right,” Jimmy said as he and Ridley turned around.

With their backs to each other, they fought to get changed in the cramped closet. Eventually, they gave up on modesty as the confined space and their multitudes and varieties of injuries made it almost impossible to change themselves. Jimmy’s rib were so banged up he couldn’t lift his arms to pull his shirt off, while Ridley’s hand was so swollen he was unable to button up his shirt and Nairo had to use Jimmy as a leaning post as her hip was so stiff and bruised she couldn’t lift her leg to pull on her trousers. Their bodies were livid purple and black tapestries to the chaos of their journey through the Houses.

“We all good?” Jimmy said, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow.

“Just about,” Nairo said as she straightened Ridley’s bow tie for him.

They walked out of the store cupboard and into two servers pushing a silver trolley with all the components of a satisfying cup of tea on it.

“Oi oi,” one of the men said, he was young with a smooth, greasy face, and a wonky tooth smile. “You lot having a quick break?” He waggled his eyebrows at Nairo and winked at her.

“Err… yeah,” Jimmy laughed nervously.

“I wouldn’t mind a go if you got a couple minutes,” the other man, who was more portly and pockmarked, said eyeing Nairo lasciviously.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Jimmy said.

Nairo’s mouth dropped open but before she could beat one or all three of them bloody, Jimmy opened the store cupboard door.

“In you go lads,” he said as he eyed Nairo, his eyes pleading.

“Alright!” The younger man said as he eagerly hopped into the store cupboard.

“I get to go first!” The portly man cried as he waddled in after him.

Jimmy then promptly snapped the door shut and jammed the tool they had used to pry open the window into the door jam.

“Hey!” the men shouted as they pushed and banged at the door.

“Now we got a trolley,” Jimmy said breezily, avoiding Nairo’s acidic gaze. “Told you this would be easy.”

He pushed the trolley quickly away and Ridley followed with a smirk on his face.

“Come on Sarge… unless you want a couple minutes with your new mates.”

“I will shove my fist…” Nairo began.

She shut up quickly as two Ministers and their goons came round the corner. She nodded and curtsied to the Ministers, who looked her up and down once before dismissing her. Nairo hurried after Jimmy and Ridley, silently mouthing as many foul curse words as she could think of. Nairo looked up from her silent rant to see that Ridley and Jimmy had been stopped by two black shirted thugs. One of them had laid a black gloved hand on the trolley while the other grilled Jimmy.

“Who did you say this was for?” he asked.

“Mr Stubbs sir,” Jimmy answered, keeping his eyes low.

“Mr Stubbs’ office is back that way,” the other black top said, his eyes narrowed in permanent suspicion. There was an animal like intelligence in his eyes, clouded by a fog of ignorance, but it was there.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re looking for the new girl,” Jimmy said.

“She keeps getting lost,” Ridley added. “You know what women are like.”

“There she is now! Sally!” Jimmy waved her over. “What did I tell you about staying close to us?”

“Oh ermm… yes I’m sorry I must have got turned around,” Nairo replied, trying to look as lost and dense as possible.

“You need to be careful, miss,” the guard said, his suspicions easing after Nairo’s appearance. “Dangerous round these halls for a little girl all by herself.”

“Yes, of course, sorry.”

“Right, you lot get to where you’re going and word of advice, I wouldn’t be bringing Mr Stubbs cold tea.” The two men guffawed as they walked away.

“We’ll be having words,” Nairo said when Jimmy opened his mouth to apologise. “Let’s just get out of this bloody place.”

“We better deliver this tea first,” Jimmy said.

“You know we’re not really servants.” Ridley said, irritated by the suggestion of doing work.

“Those guards are walking the way we need to go,” Jimmy explained as he wheeled the trolley around. “If they see us with a full trolley still, they’ll know we aren’t who we say we are.”

He pushed the trolley and led them back the way they had come. As they passed the store cupboard, they could still hear the two locked up servers arguing.

“You think she’s coming back?” one moaned.

“Shut up Eric!” The other one barked. “This is all your fault! Just like the bloody snake charmer at the Winter Leaf fair all over again!”

“You’re the one that wanted to see a reticulated python coz you thought it was something dirty!”

The rest of their argument was drowned out by the sound of punches being thrown.

“Is anyone who works here sane?” Nairo asked.

“Would you be?” Ridley replied.

“Good point.”

“When we get in there, keep your mouths shut.” Jimmy warned. “Stubbs is a nasty bastard, he’s always looking to make someone’s life miserable.”

“Stubbs?” The name prickled a memory in Nairo’s mind. “Albert Stubbs?”

“Infamous sack of shit himself,” Jimmy said.

“No… wait! We can’t go in there!” Nairo said as they stopped in front of a heavy dark stained door with the words:

Albert Stubbs MP

Chief Whip

Rep. Tamworth

Written in gold gilt lettering.

“Why not?” Jimmy asked.

“Stubbs was the MP who threw me off the case! He’ll recognise me!”

“Shit,” Jimmy cursed. “We need to…”

“That fellas bleeding,” Ridley interjected, pointing down the corridor.

Jimmy and Nairo turned to see a man in a midnight black suit staggering down the hallway clutching his side.

“Are you alright?” Nairo called to him as she ran down the hallway towards him.

“Oh nothing, just a scratch in the line of duty,” the man said, sweat pouring down his bald crown and across his ghostly white face.

“You sure?” Ridley said, eyeing the dark stain spreading across the side of his suit jacket.

“Quite alright.” He gave Nairo a smile and a genial bob of his head that reminded her of Barney. “I say is that for Mr Stubbs?” he asked, pointing to the trolley as he limped the final few steps to the door.

“It is sir,” Jimmy said.

“Good, ‘at least he might be in a good mood. Have you knocked?”

“Not yet,” Jimmy answered.

“Well now’s the moment and all that,” he said before clearing his throat and rapping his knuckles on the door politely.

There was no answer. The man winced in pain as he straightened his tattered shirt collars and then tutted at the blood down the front of his shirt.

“Been a morning?” Ridley asked him as they waited.

“You could say that.”

“Me too.”

“Quite.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment more. The only sound was the steady drip of the man’s blood.

“Come in.”

With a swift turn of the heavy brass handle, the man stepped inside, and held the door open for them to follow.

The office was simply adorned, its walls absent of any diplomas or pictures, the squat heavy mahogany desk, equally absent of personal effects. The desk dominated the office, somehow too big in the empty room, on either side was a single chair. Behind the desk sat, a uniformly weighty figure, barrel chested with thick shoulders and a heavy jaw: Chief Whip for the Men of Now Albert David Stubbs. His thick lips split into a cold smile, mirroring Herbert’s, almost genuinely.

Nairo looked at Ridley who signalled for her to stay behind him. They entered the room and Ridley’s powers of inconspicuity led Nairo around the edge of the room and into a pool of darkness in one corner while Jimmy drew attention by pulling the tea laden trolley to the edge of the desk.

“Ahh, Herbert, so good of you to see me at such short notice,” Stubbs growled.

Nairo felt a cold thrill of hate stir in her for the cold eyed minister. He was wearing a dark navy suit today, but his menacing presence seemed to bleed the suit to grey anyway. He puffed on a cigar almost as broad as him and centred his predatory attention on Herbert, the balding man they had entered with.

“Of course not, Albert,” Herbert said with a weak twitch of a smile. “One can never be too busy to have tea with an old… chum.”

Stubbs blew a thick cloud of smoke and beckoned for Herbert to sit, on the noticeably less cushioned chair opposite him, and offered him his scarred paw.

“Thank you yes,” Herbert shook his hand enthusiastically, but Nairo noticed it was in the same way a man pets a tame tiger.

“I trust you didn’t face too much hardship on your way to my door?” Stubbs asked, his inch perfect smile never faltered, but his little mean eyes were sharp and uncaring.

“Oh no, no bother at all,” Herbert said, dabbing at his bloodied lip. “But I would be remiss if I didn’t remark on the…” he paused, searching his vocabulary for the safest vernacular. “Well, the lads seem rather… enthusiastic today.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Damned Party men are all excited,” Stubbs growled, banging his meaty fist on the desk. “What do you think you’re doing?” Stubbs barked at Jimmy, who froze while bending to pour tea into the cup on Stubbs’ desk.

“I… I was pouring the tea sir,” Jimmy explained, not daring to make eye contact with Stubbs.

“It’s customary to wait until asked,” Stubbs breathed the word ‘asked’ with all the sulphur and heat of an erupting volcano.

“My apologies sir,” Jimmy said bowing and retreating from the desk.

“They think this Lock Out is a sign of weakness,” Stubbs continued to Herbert as if nothing happened. “That this is somehow a desperate attempt to stop them calling chambers.”

“Huh… what do they know,” Herbert snorted with a sycophantic lean to his posture.

“Not a great deal, but definitely more than they should…” Stubbs left the words hanging in the air while he puffed on his smoke. “But more importantly, it’s about what they think they know.”

“And what’s that?” Herbert asked, shifting in his seat and grimacing from the wound in his side.

“That Pleasently’s time is limited. That he’s barely keeping that bloody seat with his fingernails and this is just a last ditch effort to stave off the wolves. Especially with our Faye friends in an uproar.”

“Right,” Herbert said, nodding enthusiastically, although Nairo was sure he didn't really understand what Stubbs was talking about.

“But we’ll discuss business later, first, a spot of tea,” Stubbs said and he leaned back in his chair.

“Tea!” he commanded. “Not you! Her.” Stubbs jabbed a thick finger at Nairo and she almost gasped in horror.

Jimmy looked at Nairo with panicked eyes. Feeling Stubb’s hot gaze, Nairo walked out of the shadows and took the pot from Jimmy. Fighting with every ounce of will in her battered body, Nairo fought to stop her hands from shaking as she poured the tea. Despite her best efforts, the pot rattled, drawing Stubbs’ curious gaze on her. Sweat trickled down her lower back. She kept her eyes low and gently poured out two cups of tea. Stubbs blew a cloud of smoke and turned his attention back to the more responsive play thing.

“Got caught unawares by some pup with a razor, Herb? Not slowing down in your grey years, are you?” Stubbs asked with a wicked smirk.

“Can you believe it? Jolly good punch up and some cad pulls a blade! Never would have happened in our day,” Herbert said indignantly.

Stubbs nodded sympathetically, even managing to tut as Nairo placed his cup and saucer in front of him.

“You should have that seen to,” Stubbs said, that wicked smirk still on his face, as if the scent of blood excited him.

“Oh no… don’t trouble yourself…”

“Nonsense, no trouble at all. Barkley! Bring the tray!” Stubbs barked, making Nairo almost drop the teapot.

A small door opened to their left and a little old man shuffled out, an almost perceptible creak accompanied every agonising bend of his arthritic joints. He was all tufts of grizzled grey hair and thick spectacles; his bristly moustache appeared to be more of a shock of hair than a design feature. He was plainly dressed in a baggy knitted sweater over a faded green shirt that was buttoned wrong. He gave a wispy cough and shuffled in, a silver tray with a medley of medical supplies rattling on it.

“Sir?” The old man Barkley rasped dryly.

“Sort Herbert’s wound would you?” Stubbs said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Don’t want him getting blood on the shag.”

Nairo looked from the shaky scarred hand of Barkley, up his creased sleeves, stopping at the ugly knotted scar that ran across his throat and the apostrophe-like scar tissue around his uneven brow. She watched Herbert’s eyes follow a similar path to hers, and then she saw him visibly flinch when he caught Barkley’s comically magnified eyes behind his thick glasses.

“Yes sir.” Barkley set down the tray and knelt slowly by Herbert. “If you wouldn’t mind, sir.”

Barkley gestured to Herbert’s jacket.

“Oh yes, of course.” Herbert slowly peeled his blood soaked jacket off and then lifted his shirt to reveal a nasty slash across his side.

Albert looked at it with gleaming eyes and then tutted.

“That looks nasty. Must hurt terribly?” No one in the room missed the eagerness in Stubbs’ eyes.

“Oh, it’s just a scratch really… Ow!”

“Frightfully sorry, sir.” Barkley said, as he pinched the wound shut and inspected it through his thick spectacles.

“So, how are the children, Herb?” Stubbs asked with little intonation to suggest he cared.

“Oh just fine, thank you Albert, little Emily’s just beginning her first term at Ruthger’s in the Elmen Groves.” Herbert winced as Barkley began to clean the wound.

“Ahh yes fantastic school, she’ll do wonderfully, smart as a whip that one,” Stubbs said offhandedly as Nairo placed Herbert’s tea in front of him.

“No, that’s Lucy, Emily is… the pretty one,” Herbert finished lamely and they both shared an awkward moment of staring into their cups.

Nairo quietly retreated until she bumped into the wall, her heart thumping in her chest.

“The wife?”

“Just fine, bought a new cherry oak divan for the bedroom, said it matched the beetle hide curtains.” Now sweat trickled down Herbert’s bald pate as Barkley threading a needle with trembling hands.

“How wonderful… your tea’s going cold”

“Oh yes.” With his one free hand, Herbert reached for his cup.

“This will hurt sir,” Barkley said as he pierced Herbert’s flesh with his needle.

“Quite right,” Herbert grimaced.

“Does it Herb?” Stubbs asked, leaning forward. “Does it hurt?”

“Oh it just smarts a touch.” Herbert replied nervously, trying to smile and Stubbs sat back grumpily.

“Hmm, it’s been so long since I’ve got my hands bloody,” Stubbs sighed, showing the first bit of genuine feeling since they had entered the room. “I do miss cracking heads and upholding democracy in our fine Houses.”

“Oh yes Albert, you were one of the greatest,” Herbert said, still managing to sound sycophantic through gritted teeth.

“Oh I was a terror of the halls. But that time has long gone. Now I sit in my office and I hear things. All day long I hear the twitterings of old buffoons and eager young up starts. Do you know what I’ve heard, Herb?”

“I-I couldn’t imagine, Albert.”

“What happened to Mabard.”

“Oh goodness, yes. How awful,” Herbert said, as he blew on his tea. “Honestly, I’m all for a spot of pugilism, nothing wrong with that, but this new generation of louts, not a shred of honour between them!” He furiously sipped at his tea, almost forgetting to extend his smallest digit in his agitation. “You know I just saw one dastardly individual knock a man down and kick him in the unmentionables!”

“Well… just spirited youthfulness Herb,” Stubbs replied.

“No, no Albert, it’s more than that! Ever since, and of course speaking as old friends, but ever since we started working with that… chap from out West, you know the one, and brought in all of his thugs from the back alleys and brothels well… I’m hesitant to note that, it seems like we’ve been losing our traditions.” Herbert spoke excitedly, his eyes watching for Stubbs’ reaction.

“Ahh yes, in times such as these we find ourselves reaching out to friends in… low places.”

“The man’s a cretin. That whole Human First mob are. Have you seen what they are doing out there? It’s anarchy! And I’ll be guessing he’ll want a slab of flesh for his support.”

“Quite,” Stubbs replied in a manner that let Herbert know he had stumbled into a conversational byway he had no business being in.

“Of course, I’m sure the Mayor will steer us through these troubled waters,” Herbert said hastily, wincing under Barkley’s needle.

“You know, more and more I’m coming to recognize less and less faces in the chambers,” Stubbs sighed and set down his cup, changing the topic.

His well worn frown lines buried deep furrows across his forehead and his thick lips descending into a well used frown of consternation that marked him as a lifelong admirer of politics.

“I know what you mean,” Herbert said, nodding. “What with Fergus popping his clogs, Shelby’s got one foot in and Regus’ sudden retirement.”

Stubbs’ heavy snort cut him short, his deep gravelly voice rumbled in his chest, derision slapped across his round face.

“Come now Herb, let's call a spade a spade! Regus didn’t bow out gracefully of his own accord,” Stubbs leaned forward, hands folded before him, his great girth threatening to burst across the desk, a sight many an ill behaved Member had seen just before they took an involuntary nap.

“Well of course, there were… whisperings,” Herbert muttered.

“Jump or get pushed,” Stubbs sat back and relit his cigar, a thick cloud of smoke obscured him, a small halo of smoke fought through the smog, disintegrating above his head.

“I would… would not be able to make any informed comment on that, Albert, I am merely a back bencher,” Herbert said, a trickle of sweat worming its way past his thick eyebrows.

“Of course not,” Stubbs replied, his canine scowl replaced with a placid smile. “Just Backbench gossip.” He gave out a short bark of laughter, Herbert only managed a weak smile, tinged with relief, in return. “Now let’s actually get down to business… that will be all.”

Without looking at them, Stubbs dismissed them from the room. Jimmy grabbed the trolley handle and made a beeline for the door, with Nairo and Ridley close behind. Only when the door finally snapped shut behind them did they breathe.

“He didn't know who I was,” Nairo said, wiping the sweat from her face.

“What d’you expect?” Ridley said. “You remember the face and name of every insect you squash? These lot don’t see normal people as real. Just a bunch of little ants running around the world they built for us.”

“Thanks,” Nairo replied, sarcastically.

“Come on,” Jimmy said, fiddling with his waistcoat. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

He pushed the trolley at just a step under a full jog and led them around two corners and across the floor eastwards.

“You know where you’re going?” Ridley asked him.

“Of course,” Jimmy said confidently and Nairo caught the look of suspicion that Ridley gave him. “Right round this corner.”

They came to a dumbwaiter, which was really just a window carved into the wall and a lever next to it.

“What’re we doing now?” Ridley said.

“This is our escape route,” Jimmy said with a grin.

“So we’re gonna ride the dumbwaiter down?” Ridley asked sceptically.

“Naa,” Jimmy said as he discarded the trolley. “It would never hold our weight.”

“How are we getting down then?” Nairo asked, sharing Ridley’s scepticism.

“We slide!” Jimmy announced proudly.

He threw open the doors to the dumbwaiter to show them the thin black cable of the dumbwaiter’s pulley system.

“Really?” Ridley said with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s easy, trust me.” Jimmy was already clambering into the hatch.

“How many times are you gonna say that today?”

“Just once more!” Jimmy flashed him a wolfish grin before he disappeared into the hatch.

“Come on,” Nairo sighed. “Hopefully, if we fall we’ll break our necks and that will be that.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Ridley helped Nairo manoeuvre her battered body into the hatch and then followed.

“All you gotta do is keep your feet wide, hold on to the rope and walk yourselves slowly down,” Jimmy’s disembodied voice floated up to them.

Nairo planted her feet and fell almost immediately as her hip spasmed. She grabbed the rope in front of her and clenched her jaw until it passed. Panting, she took stock of their situation. The hatch was barely wide enough for a person to fit in, so keeping her feet pressed against the wall was easy enough. But her hip was crying out in agony and her lower back throbbed uncomfortably. She grunted as he forced her feet to start moving, feeding the rope between her hands. It was a long way down and she dared not look. Above her she heard a constant stream of grumbled curses and squeaking shoes as Ridley followed her down.

She wasn’t sure how long they had been going for but she was drenched in sweat. Her hands ached from gripping the rope. Her legs wobbled with fatigue and every muscle in her body begged for reprieve.

“Nearly there!” Jimmy called up to them. “Couple more floors.”

“I’ll kill him,” Ridley wheezed.

“Just let go and you can kill us all,” Nairo muttered, spitting sweat out of her mouth.

The sounds of the kitchen and the smell of cooking food wafted up the dumb waiter to them. Nearly there. Almost. She heard the sound of feet hitting the ground and a hatch being slammed open. She guessed Jimmy had reached the bottom. Her legs quivered and then gave away. Nairo slipped and lurched forward, slamming her face off the dumbwaiter’s shaft and then fell. It was only a few feet but she landed hard, crying out in agony as pain lanced across her lower body.

“Sarge! You okay!” Ridley shouted down.

“C’mon.” Jimmy reached a hand through the hatch and pulled her up and out.

Nairo hopped gingerly and blinked in the bright light of the kitchen. They had made it! It felt like days, weeks, since she and Ridley had first entered the demonic kitchens. She heard Ridley tumble down just behind.

“Quickly! Let’s go.” Jimmy hauled Ridley out and then flitted across the busy kitchens with his head down.

They stumbled after him, too exhausted for questions. Jimmy led them through the kitchen to another closet. He rapped on the door three times, then waited, and knocked once more. There was the sound of lock clicking. Jimmy pulled the door open just wide enough for them to fit through and ushered Ridley and Nairo in. Nairo squeezed through the door and instantly felt her heart lighten.

“Barney! Cripper!”

Their two compatriots were sitting around a makeshift table with five chairs. They beamed at them.

“Miss Sally! Master Ridley! James! So awfully good to see you all!” Barney leapt to his feet and greeted them all with enthusiastic handshakes. “I was having palpitations awaiting your arrival! Was I not Cripper?”

“Yer,” the big man grunted.

“Fish ‘n’ Chips!” Ridley said, barging past Barney as he saw the table was laden with five heaping portions of fried cod and chips.

“Don’t forget the tartar sauce!” Barney said, clapping Jimmy on the back. “We were successful?”

Jimmy nodded and winked at him.

“Jolly good show.”

Nairo stumbled into the seat next to Cripper and they tucked in to their hard earned lunch. The fish was piping hot and flaky. The chips were thick and fried to a perfect crunch. The tartar sauce was tangy and creamy. Nairo felt like she could weep but she was too busy stuffing her face. Barney popped open a bottle of wine and served a healthy helping to all. He stood and raised his glass.

“A bloody perfectly executed caper! If you pardon the language, Miss Sally.”

“A bloody good caper!” Nairo said through a thick mouthful of cod while holding up her wine glass.

“It has been a tremendous honour escapading and fighting by your sides. Shall you ever call again, know that Barnabus Reginald Archibald-Sterling will answer day and night!”

“Here here!” Jimmy laughed and clinked his wine glass with Barney’s.

“It was a successful caper for all of us, right Jim?” Ridley said, looking up from his food for the first time.

“You got some of the info you needed,” Jimmy replied.

“And so did you.”

Nairo looked from Ridley to Jimmy.

“What does that mean?” Nairo asked.

“You wanna tell her or should I?” Ridley asked.

Jimmy hesitated and looked at Barney.

“That pipe never broke,” Ridley said, swallowing a mouthful of chips. “James here needed us to get stranded so we could drop in on Stubbs. Right?”

Jimmy looked at Barney again.

“That’s also why Cripper decided to take a powder halfway through, right big man?”

Cripper looked uncharacteristically sheepish.

“What? Why?” Nairo asked.

“Cripper would never have fit down the dumbwaiter and Barney would have been recognised by Stubbs. I thought it was a little suspicious that there just happened to be three neatly folded and washed uniforms in our sizes in that cupboard. Not to mention the fact you had the perfect escape route already mapped out.”

“No, I mean why did they need to see Stubbs?”

“I’m guessing it had something to do with the datebook Jimmy took a sneak at when he was tryna pour Stubbs’ tea.”

“Gosh Master Ridley, you are a dab hand at detectoring,” Barney said, deflating slightly.

Jimmy sat back and ran his tongue across his teeth.

“Party needed us, Rid. I wouldn’t have put you two in any danger…”

“Any more danger than we’ve already been in?”

“It was the only chance the Party had to get eyes on Stubbs’ day planner. There was no way we could have done it without two outsiders that Stubbs wouldn’t recognise.”

Ridley nodded and took a bite of cod.

“Killed two birds with one stone?”

“Only way we could get permission to run this mission.”

“Oh dear, I feel awful,” Barney said, lilting in his seat. “This level of dishonesty is unbecoming of an Archibald-Sterling! But I assure you both, it was the only way and it was absolutely necessary.”

Nairo looked around the table and sighed.

“I supposed all is well that ends well.”

“Yeah,” Ridley agreed. “But you still owe me one, Jim.”

Jimmy grinned and winked his blackened eye at him.

“Anything for a mate.”

“You gonna tell us what you saw in that datebook?”

“Nope.”

“Fair.”

“Fish ‘n’ Chips good though,” Cripper said.

The tension broke instantly and they shared a laugh.

“I’ll drink to that,” Nairo said.