Guy Adams - The Clown Service

Toby checked his watch. Only five minutes to go before the planned meeting.

He took another sip of the lager and lit one more cigarette, gathering his cover around him as the clock ticked closer to his rendezvous.

A woman entered the quad dressed in standard office uniform, a light raincoat, dark blue skirt and matching jacket. Toby pegged her as a civil servant and immediately focused all his attention on her. She loitered by a takeaway baguette kiosk, glanced at her watch and looked out over the people around her, clearly searching for someone she was due to meet. As her attention swept over him Toby lifted his lager can to his mouth, blocking what little view of his face she might have had. Her gaze passed by him and she looked towards the entrance from Euston Road. She seemed innocuous enough, skin pale from too much office strip lighting and not enough sun. Her brown hair came from a supermarket shelf, and she wore no discernible jewellery. Probably born blonde, Toby decided she was a woman on the defensive in an aggressively male environment, trying to avoid preconceptions. London was full of such women, trying to dismiss their femininity in an environment that might see it as weakness. She certainly could be in intelligence. Despite a series of successful female operatives, the old guard could be a bigoted, patriarchal lot. The only thing that concerned him was that she seemed…

‘Far too obvious?’

He turned to find a woman had joined him at his table. She could hardly have been more different from the one he had been watching: brash in appearance, her hair a violent shade of red with streaks of white, face heavy with make-up and a neck laden down with so many bead necklaces she could have substituted for a grocer’s curtain. Toby placed her in her late forties.

‘Sorry to sneak up on you,’ she said and reached for his pack of cigarettes. She paused while withdrawing one, raising an eyebrow by way of asking permission.

‘Help yourself,’ he said, ‘they’re obviously no use to me.’

‘Now don’t be like that, they were a nice touch. I’m just exceptionally good at finding the people I want to find.’

Patronising bitch , he thought and scooted the lighter across the table to her with a flick of his fingers. He looked over at the civil servant that had caught his eye, watched her greet a man with little enthusiasm – a colleague not a friend – and vanish into the station with him.

‘Thanks for coming to meet me,’ the woman said after lighting her cigarette, ‘I felt sure you would. After a day in Section 37 you’re bound to be curious. It’s not the world you’re used to, is it?’

Toby shrugged. He had already decided to say as little as possible, let her do all the talking.

‘And Shining is hardly the most conventional section head in the Service, though he may well be the oldest…’

The table of girls with smartphones erupted into a brief and universally fake explosion of laughter at a YouTube video.

‘Have you considered applying for another transfer yet?’ the woman continued. ‘You might think that they won’t grant you one but don’t discount it. There are those in the Service who are far from happy to see Section 37 allocated an extra man; you might be surprised at how easily you could be elsewhere.’

Toby remained silent.

‘I see, you want me to do all the talking.’ She smiled. ‘You young officers are so charming; every move comes straight from a manual.’

‘Perhaps I just don’t like being played?’ he replied, his anger finally coming to the surface. ‘If you have an issue with Shining might I suggest you take it up with him direct? Given how few people take him seriously I’m surprised he’s worth this bother.’

‘I take him seriously,’ she said. ‘You’re quite wrong about that. This isn’t about petty, inter-departmental politics, this is about people who stick their noses where they’re not welcome. I met you as a point of courtesy, a polite opportunity for you to step off the field.’

‘Really? In my experience there is very little courtesy in our line of work. If you want me gone then it’s because I’m an inconvenience to you.’

Her smile switched to a sneer. ‘Get over yourself.’ She stubbed the cigarette out on the surface of the table. ‘You’re nothing to us. You’re a silly little child that’s about to get caught up in matters he has no hope of understanding.’

Toby felt his anger suddenly dissipate. ‘If I was nothing you wouldn’t be wasting your time here. You may be good at finding people but you’re a lousy liar. Perhaps it’s you that needs to rethink your career.’

She stared at him for a moment and then stood up and walked away.

Well now , Toby thought, this transfer might be interesting after all.

a) Shad Thames, London

‘You know,’ said Toby on meeting Shining the next day, ‘I was thinking of offering my resignation this morning.’

‘Really?’ Shining’s face fell. ‘It would hardly have been the first time, but I had hoped you’d stay a little longer.’

They cut through the train station, emerging onto Tooley Street and then moving up towards the river.

‘To be honest,’ Toby continued, ‘I think I was just panicking a little. I couldn’t see what my place was in the section. It was all weirdness, a world outside that which I’d trained for. I couldn’t see what use I would be. I could think of nothing worse than spending the rest of my days watching on in confusion while you explained some new and unbelievable bit of nonsense.’

Shining laughed. ‘So what changed your mind?’

‘I met a woman who tried to convince me I was right, that it was all beyond me. I reasoned she’d hardly be saying it if it were true.’

‘A woman?’ Shining stopped walking. ‘What woman?’

Toby told him everything that had happened the night before.

‘How interesting,’ said Shining, as they continued on their way.

‘I assume it was something to do with that enemy of yours in Whitehall, Sir Robin?’

‘I doubt it, it’s not his style at all. He’d just have threatened to cut your pension.’

‘Great.’

‘Stick with me and you won’t live long enough to claim one.’

‘That’s a relief. So who do you think she was?’

‘No idea – isn’t that lovely? You can’t beat a bit of intrigue. I dare say you’ll hear from her again.’

‘I look forward to it.’

They emerged onto the riverside, went past HMS Belfast and towards the lopsided glass onion of City Hall.

‘For now,’ Shining continued, ‘let’s keep our eyes on the road. I took a gamble yesterday as to the location of the numbers broadcast and Oman has confirmed my suspicions.’

‘Well, that makes things easier.’

‘Actually, probably not; it opens up a whole new can of worms.’

‘Oh good.’

Shining patted him on the shoulder. ‘You’re a new man this morning! Where’s the sullen cynic of yesterday?’

Toby shrugged. ‘He’ll be back soon enough. For now I’m taking the path of least resistance. No doubt I’ll be up to my neck in something utterly impossible before the morning’s out. Until then I may as well just enjoy the walk.’

It was a pleasant day for a walk. The sun was bright, and had brought the tourists out to stare at the water and photograph one another’s fixed smiles.

The two men worked their way along the waterside, past Tower Bridge and on towards the scrubbed, false world of Shad Thames.

‘We love our history with all the soot removed,’ said Shining, ‘Industry as a charming ghost rather than a grunting, sweating, creaking beast.’