Lauren The Butterfly Effect

Lauren The Butterfly Effect.

David Rory O’Neill.

Published by davidrory publishing at Smashwords.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Copyright David Moody 2013 and 2016. 4th ed.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in Belfast until troubles and tribal violence drove him away, David grew to be a non-conformist and independent soul clinging to his counter-culture ideals. He found peace and his true calling as a storyteller in the literary Irish tradition. He now lives in a lovely restored old art and book-filled house in the lee of the Silvermine Mountains, Tipperary, Ireland. He shares his life there with beloved Brigitte and a cat with issues, called Bobby. David Rory O’Neill has written twenty novels and more are bubbling and brewing. http://davidrory.com

Dedications:

Thanks go for editorial help to Miriam Drori.

For Ria who is my beloved legacy and who in June 2016, gave me a grandson: Art Leonis Parker Eliott.

For Brigitte who showed me what love can be.

For the Indie authors who have overcome self-doubt and embraced readers.

And to the readers who share the vision and have embraced the authors.

David Rory O’Neill. Ireland. 2016

Published books:

The Novella:

Leotie, Flower of the Prairie.

Animal

Rachel’s Walk

Rachel’s War

The Daniel Series:

1 Conflict

2 Challenge

3 Passion

4 Grip

5 Judgement

6 Pyramid

7 Trial

The West Cork Trilogy:

1 Surviving Beauty

2 Beauty’s Price

3 Blue Sky Orphan

4 The West Cork Trilogy Omnibus.

The Prairie Companions

The Butterfly Effect Trilogy:

Bonny The Butterfly Effect.

Lauren The Butterfly Effect.

Chepi The Butterfly Effect.

I welcome contact with my readers. Information on published and future work can be found on my website: http://davidrory.com

Or visit me on Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1myLoRf

If you enjoyed this novel please leave a review on your suppliers website – reviews are the lifeblood of the modern author.

UK English used so you will find grey not gray and colour not color – these are not mistakes. (Sorry Noel Webster)

Contents:

Introduction.

Chapter 1. Rock Crushers.

Chapter 2. Sneaky Beaky.

Chapter 3. In The Navy Now.

Chapter 4. Assassinations.

Chapter 5. Retribution.

Chapter 6. Romance.

Chapter 7. Recovery.

Chapter 8. Flight.

Chapter 9. Birth.

Chapter 10. Motherhood.

Chapter 11. Reconciliation.

Chapter 12. A Long Walk.

Chapter 13. Consolation.

Chapter 14. Last Battle.

Chapter 15. A Victory.

Forward:

What if the characters in my Daniel series had taken different steps, perhaps not formed their unique loving pyramid?

We must have all asked ourselves what if? What if I’d taken a different route, said something else, met someone else, been born in a different place. It’s an idea and question full of beguiling possibilities.

I am re-visiting three prime characters, Lauren, Bonny and the Cree shaman, Chepi. If you’ve not met them before that won’t change the pleasure you get from this novel, and if you have, come with me as we explore where Lauren’s life would have gone if she’d taken a different path. Let us explore the butterfly effect.

Introduction:

Having crawled into her tight fitting marine issue sleeping bag she lay with the tent open so she could peer out into the swirling mists that blanketed the mountains. A full moon gave the mists a silver backlight that made their motion visible as they danced in the eddies and swirls of a light breeze. The night seemed alive. Lauren found no fear in these conditions, darkness held no terrors for her. Her terrors lurked in her own unconscious mind waiting for sleep to free them. Sleep was therefore a state hard to find.

Commander Lauren J Greer-Bouchet RN DSC is a highly decorated officer of the Royal Navy. She earned these decorations not at sea in conventional warfare but in the murky world of anti-terrorist undercover work.

Lauren was a founder member of a top-secret covert unit called Detachment 16 formed in the turmoil that was Northern Ireland in the seventies and eighties.

During these formative years, Lauren uncovered a conspiracy reaching into the very highest reaches of the British establishment. Those who were threatened by exposure tried repeatedly to silence her. She survived many attempts on her life and lost lovers and friends. Her enemies fatally underestimated her, for her beauty and athleticism blinded them to a fierce intellect and indomitable spirit that is pure amazonian warrior.

Lauren is a woman of power and beauty who pays a heavy price for her unwillingness to conform to stereotypes and sexual roles. This is her path – her path to ultimate freedom.

Lauren The Butterfly Effect.

Chapter One. Rock Crushers.

Have you been running again Laurie? asked Margaret Greer. Her daughter stood at the back door to the kitchen looking sweaty but not out of breath. She wore her out of school uniform of running shorts and tee-shirt. Her long golden hair was tied back in a ponytail. As she reached her fourteenth year, Lauren was becoming a startlingly beautiful girl. She was tall at five-ten but not at all thin or gangly as so many tall girls are. She had inherited her mother’s Nordic high cheekbones and thick lips but she had not gotten her slim figure. Lauren seemed to have inherited her father’s, thickly muscled powerful build.

"It’s those steps down to the prom you speed up and down every day. They’re giving you those rock crusher thighs. It’s not seemly for a girl to have legs like that, Laurie. Why ever do you do it?’

Oh Mummy, you’re like a stuck record. I love running. Miss Clarke wants me to go for the trials next week. If I’m picked I will be competing for the national junior team. It’s a big deal. The 100 meters is the premier event you know. I might even get as far as the Olympics in four years’ time if I work hard, she says. Daddy thinks it’s great and he doesn’t go on about rock crushers.

"Laurie, he is not thinking long term. How on earth are you going to attract a young man when you are stronger than him?’

Mummy that’s absurd. I’m not interested in boys.

Oh Laurie, is it girls? Have they turned your head at that school? You can tell me. I know you can get a crush on other girls. I did when I was at school.

It gets worse. Leave it Mummy, no I’ve no crushes on other girls.

Lauren sprinted through the kitchen and bounded up the stairs, taking three at a time. She went to her bedroom, stripped off her shorts and top and had a quick shower. After, she stood at her window wrapped in a towel and looked out at the sea and the promenade below. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Rock crushers, that’s what they call them in school and bull-dyke and leso and all the other names. Why are they so cruel? I never stick up for myself either. Never say anything or fight back. I could bust their silly faces so easily but I don’t. What’s wrong with me? I’ve this really strong body but I’m weak and frightened inside. That Jena girl is the worst, she never leaves me be. She’s hit me twice and I did nothing.

Lauren watched a young couple laid on a blanket on the grass bank near the bandstand; they were lost in each other and didn’t seem to notice the crowds of older people sitting on deck chairs listening to the brass band play a selection of military marches. Bangor was crowded with day-trippers on this holiday weekend in July. Trainloads came down from Belfast fourteen miles up the lough.

The Greer’s house was a large detached art-deco-style villa built in a prime location atop the hillside overlooking Pickie prom and pool. Lauren’s father, Commander John Greer, had recently retired from a career in the Royal Navy. She saw more of him now and was glad to have him about the house when she was home from her private boarding school at weekends and holidays. Her relationship with her father had become a little distant. Ever since she’d overheard a loud fight between her father and mother when Lauren was seven, she’d been haunted by the idea that she must be as good as the son he’d loudly lamented not having. Lauren strove always to excel at anything she did. Her father’s study had a wall full of certificates and prizes from school and the Girls Brigade. She was a prefect and was on course to be head-girl at school. Lauren always had top marks in exams and tests. Every time he came home from sea, Lauren would have added to his wall and would have her school reports ready for him to see. Her running was now another area she could excel. Her athletic prizes and silver cups now lined a shelf she’d put up in his study.

John Greer was proud of his daughter but confused by her. He was a little daunted by her striving and her Tomboy attitude. She was becoming a beautiful young woman and he wished she’d let herself be more feminine and girlish. He’d missed having a pretty little girl to sit on his knee and make a fuss of. Lauren stopped all that around the age of seven when she’d no longer let herself be dolled and prettied by her mother. He’d never understood why.

The following year the bullying she suffered reached a crescendo when a younger girl got a big crush on her and was seen to grab her and steal a kiss in the library. The taunting grew intolerable and Lauren made a decision. Since the head-girl and other prefects refused to act to protect her, she would have to step outside the rules and take the law into her own hands. First, she went to the library in town and got out books on self-defence, karate and judo. She studied, practised and then she hunted down the prime bully, tracked her until she found her alone and gave her a serious beating. She stood over the terrified and bleeding older girl and said, From now on every time someone taunts or attacks me, I will find you and do this, and every time it well be worse. You are the ringleader of the bullies; stop or you will end broken. By stop, I mean stop all bullying. If I see you and your gang pick on someone else, I will find you. You cannot hide from me. Do you understand?

The whimpering girl said, Yes and got to her feet. Lauren said, You make fun of my body and strength. Now I will use that against you.

She punched the girl again in the solar plexus so she collapsed to her knees gasping.

Lauren ran to the toilets, locked herself in a cubicle and was violently sick. After, she went to the study room and tried to read but she couldn’t write her notes as her hand quivered. She waited to be called to the head but nothing happened. That night in her dorm, she lay awake thinking about the day and what she’d done. The thing that bothered her most was the pleasure she’d taken when having her revenge. That and how effective she’d been. I obviously have a talent for violence and am not afraid of it. I suffered all these years when I could have stopped it by making them afraid of me. I wonder is that the end of it or will I need to make good my threats and beat her again? They are not used to real violence, they use words and slap and pull hair. What I did really terrified Cavendish.

Two days later a friend of the beaten bully who was older and bigger decided she needed to get revenge and she and Cavendish and two others cornered Lauren in the gym changing rooms, as she was preparing for her evening run.

As soon as they came in, Lauren knew how it would be. She waited until they got a little closer to her and then attacked. She acted fast as she punched the biggest girl full in the face and hard. The girl staggered back with blood pouring from her nose. She hit the shocked Cavendish and the girl next to her. One girl fled screaming. Cavendish was on her knees holding her face and the nosebleed girl had run away and locked herself in a toilet.

Lauren remained defiant and unrepentant when called to the head. She was expelled. She packed her trunk and waited for her father to come to collect her. She was called back to the headmistress’s office two hours later. Her father was sitting in a chair opposite the head’s desk. He indicated the chair next to him and Lauren came and sat. Her father was wearing his naval uniform. She sat beside him, head held high. Commander Greer said, Lauren do you wish to leave this school?

No Daddy, I don’t but neither will I apologise for what I did. I will not promise not to do it again if I am attacked again.

No and nor should you make any such promise, Lauren. Miss Cathcart, you have a simple choice to make. Either Lauren remains or you face a lawsuit. I will not stand by and see my daughter punished for defending herself from nasty and weak bullies. Bullying can become the norm in places like this. Justice must be seen to be done. I do not insist you expel the true perpetrators of this incident but you do need to warn them what will happen if they repeat their mistake. I will support Lauren fully by all means at my disposal if she has to defend herself again. The essence of her policy is mine and was famously stated as: Speak softly but carry a big stick.

Lauren was not expelled and she returned to her room to unpack filled with pride and good feeling for her father. When they left the head’s office, he’d put his arm around her and said, I wish you’d told us you were being bullied, darling. Try not to use your power carelessly. Be just, be right before acting and try to know the power you have so you do not do more harm than intended. With the strength in your body, you could kill without ever intending to do so. I see you have been studying self-defence books. Books will not teach you the control you need. Let me introduce you to a teacher I know. He is an ex-Royal Marine and he can show you how to do these things in a controlled way. Controlled aggression he will call it.

Lauren was moved to private tears by her father’s support and began to think maybe he thought more of her than she supposed.

THIS WAS THE EVENT THAT SPARKED THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT, SETTING LAUREN ON A NEW LIFE PATH.

Without conscious effort, Lauren began to change after this day. She walked taller; she began to wear her skirts as short as the other girls did. She was more gregarious and made friends for the first time at school. Her schoolwork got even better as she stopped restraining herself for fear of drawing attention. Everyone noticed the change. Lauren noticed the difference most significantly when the whole school was bussed to the international junior athletic games heats held in Belfast. The cheers as she progressed through the heats to the 100 and 200 meters finals were deafening and gave her extra speed. She won gold and went on to the national championships to be held in Glasgow.

This achievement was all the more remarkable because Lauren would be only sixteen when she took part and would compete against girls of eighteen and nineteen. Her family and a coachload of sixth formers from her school were at the Glasgow games to see her win silver. The following year at Birmingham she bettered that and won Gold at both distances.

The national Olympic selectors took note and asked her to the training camps over the next three years, prior to the Montreal Olympics.

Athletics acted as a distraction for Lauren as she approached her A level exams and the important decision about what to do after school. Her parents assumed she would go to Queens University in Belfast. Her father encouraged her to think about medicine and her mother law. Lauren fancied neither. She was ambitious about athletics and wanted a profession that would allow her to pursue that as far as possible. She decided to go to Loughborough University to study Physical Education. She picked this university because it had a long athletics tradition and many British Olympians had attended this college.

As the final trials for the Montreal Olympics began, the Northern Irish selectors made it clear that if Lauren got through the selection races as well as she was expected to, she would be assured a place on the team.

Those final races where held at Stranmillis on the outskirts of Belfast. The 200 meters was first and Lauren won that easily with a personal best time that was within a hundredth of a second of the UK and European record. The 100 was the following day and as she lined up for the final of that, everyone assumed the golden girl, as she was now being called, would cruse to an easy victory. Had she done that – cruised - her future might have been utterly different. What happened sixteen yards into that sprint was to change Lauren’s life path dramatically.

As she rose from her lightning fast take off and began to apply maximum power, she felt and heard a click in her knee followed by agony the like of which she’d never experienced. She screamed and veered off the track unable to put any weight on her right leg. As she lay holding her knee, trying to stifle her screams, she knew her athletics career was finished. She could feel her kneecap torn from her knee and the muscle attachments at that point were torn too. She had studied enough anatomy to know this was serious and might be irreparable damage. There would be no coming back from this. It was this knowledge more than the pain that made her howl in outrage and frustration.

The team doctor confirmed what she already knew. Speaking to the trainers and her parents, he explained: The vastus intermedius muscle is one part of the large, fleshy group - quadriceps femoris - which occupies the front and sides of the thigh and is the primary extensor of the knee. These parts connect the ilium and femur to a common patellar tendon, which passes over the front of the knee and attaches to the patella. Lauren has somehow torn the patella free and separated the patellar tendon. This is repairable by surgery but she will never regain the same stability in the knee. Further training would risk a repeat injury that would be impossible to repair. I’m sorry but her sprinting days are over. Lauren, this may have been caused by the great power you have in your quads overcoming your skeletal strength. That remains slightly weaker in one of your age. It is one of the risks of intensive training before full adult maturity is achieved. I’m sorry, Lauren.

As she lay in hospital after surgery, Lauren had to rethink her future. Athletics was now out; her studies at Loughborough now seemed pointless. The solution was offered during a talk with her father. He said, Laurie, why not go to the navy. Go to Britannia and get a commission; become a Physical Training Instructor. As a Wren officer you will get the best instruction possible and you will have a profession to be proud of.

Yes Daddy but I’d never be able to go to sea. The Wrens do not serve on ships.

Yes that’s true but I’m hearing rumours that will change. I don’t agree it should but there is movement that way. There is talk at the admiralty of uniting the two services.

Lauren brooded about that for three days. She decided she would visit the Royal Navy recruiting office and see what was what.

Her application was less straightforward than she might have expected. She was well qualified, had the backing of her father, a respected senior reserve officer, and her entry should have been a formality. She was called back three times and given new aptitude tests, each more obscure than the last. Lauren sensed this was not usual and at the end of the last test said, These tests are not normal. I asked my father and he confirms this. Please tell me what is going on here.

The Wren doing the tests looked over her shoulder at a mirror and a few moments later a male officer came in and took her place at the desk. He looked at her notes a few moments: I am Commodore Ranson. May I call you Lauren, Miss Greer?

Yes.

Very well. As you say these tests are not standard procedures. They are designed to help me select candidates for a special unit I lead. This unit is new; it has been operating for just a year. Let me tell you that you have been accepted for officer training at Britannia and that is certain. However, before I go further I would like you to read and sign this document.

He slid a single A4 typed sheet in front of Lauren. Across the top it said, ‘Official Secrets Act.’ Lauren read it, paused a few moments, signed it and slid it back.

Very well, Lauren. Here it is. As you are no doubt aware, this country, your country, is in turmoil at the moment. Gripped by what amounts to a civil war. This war is getting very complex. It’s a very dirty little war. Intelligence gathering is critical to the government’s efforts to bring this war to a peaceful end. However, the established intelligence gathering apparatus of the Army and the civil powers, RUC Special Branch and the Security Service are all at odds. The army units have recruited agents, some of whom are also agents of SS or SIS or SB. These agents, whom we call Freds, are often active terrorists involved in crime and murder. It is all getting very messy. The government are getting conflicting and undependable intelligence from these various sources. I have been tasked with gathering intelligence that is free of these corrupted and partial sources. This new unit, called Detachment 16, is drawn mainly from the Royal Navy, since we have no history here and are not contaminated, so to speak. We are recruiting officers to this unit who are local, have local knowledge and can operate in the community undercover without drawing attention the way intelligence officers of the army so often and fatally do. These aptitude tests are designed to alert us to possible candidates. You show astonishingly high scores and aptitude so I am here to ask you to join my unit.

Lauren was not shocked by this revelation. The later aptitude tests had suggested they were testing observational skills, problem solving and logical processes. She looked at Ranson steadily for almost five minutes trying to gauge what he was not telling her. She smiled and said, OK now tell me the downside, what must I sacrifice?

He laughed and said, I see our tests and my observations have missed something important about you. Coolness under pressure and a clear concise way of seeing and speaking. Very well. The downside. You will have to tell your family you were rejected by the navy. You will find a new career in an area we suggest. You may tell no one and I mean no one, what you are involved in. Not friends or lovers and most especially not your father. To do so would endanger anyone you told and yourself. The training will be hard and testing and many fail at that stage. We will give you the best training we can, including the officers course at naval college and basic naval training. This however will not result in a passing out and commissioning like normal candidates. Some of the specialist training will hurt and I mean hurt, for it will involve resisting interrogation under extreme duress. Our enemy shows no mercy to agents it captures so you must be able to resist and never admit what you do. You must be prepared to use ultimate violence if required without hesitation. You may see people killed and must be prepared to kill others. There are high levels of stress this life will impose. We will not expect you to do this for more than a few years. Then you can continue your naval service and specialist training with fast tracked promotion. You will be paid to a secret account and your pension will begin immediately. You will not be on the admiralty lists until your undercover work is completed. Your rank will be Lieutenant from the start thus jumping several steps from the usual. On completion of the undercover work you will go to Britannia to be officially commissioned.

Again, Lauren watched and said nothing for almost ten minutes. What is your name, sir?

Ranson, Teddy Ranson.

Lauren cackled and said, Oh, so not Bond, James Bond then?

He too laughed and said, Well what is it to be Greer, Lauren Greer.

Where do I sign?

**

After spending nine months at Britannia and Greenwich Navel Colleges, Lt. Lauren J Greer RN travelled to Bovington Camp just outside Poole in Dorset to do her specialist training. A unit of the Special Boat Squadron of the Royal Marines. M squad, would be running the gruelling course there. Here Lauren would learn how to use a variety of weapons: handguns, sniper rifle, MP5 submachine-gun, knife, mini-baton, rope, explosives, hands, feet, stun, gas and smoke grenades, poisons and even rolled up magazines would be used as lethal weapons. There would be hand-to-hand combat, survival and escape-and-evade exercises on Dartmoor. Helicopter insertions and sea landing above and beneath the surface. All the specialist skills the elite SBS are so deadly with.

There was the dreaded resisting interrogation. The tradecraft of the undercover operator, avoiding surveillance, bugging, surveillance by sound and vision, breaking into secure buildings, lock picking, covert communication, lip reading and personal disguise. An intensive study of UK, Allied and enemy intelligence and security agencies. The RUC in the North and Garda in the South. And last an extensive course on all known Loyalist and Republican para-militaries, their methods, weapons, known personnel and political affiliates.

Lauren had spent her time at Britannia recuperating as best she could from her knee injury. Slowly and with the help of navy specialist physiotherapists, she had lost the limp she so hated and was once again working her legs in squats, leg presses and toe lifts. The massive muscularity of her legs had subsided during this enforced rest from the weights but she’d used the time to build her upper body and arms even stronger so that by the time she arrived at Bovington, she was at a peak of physical fitness and power. The fatigues she wore during training tended to disguise her build and prodigious strength. Most who met her tended to be blinded by her beauty and great mane of golden-blond hair so they underestimated her, something they only ever did once. During combat training, both instructors and fellow trainees quickly learned that this was one deadly beauty. Even tough trained Marines never bested her. Lauren showed not only prodigious stamina and determination but also smartness and quick thinking. The chief instructor was Captain Dave Hall of the SBS, leader of M Squad. He was one of the first to see Lauren’s potential, during the weeklong escape-and-evade exercise on Dartmoor. He also saw for the first time the body that Lauren had kept hidden.

During the exercise, the five trainees were left in the middle of Dartmoor with nothing but what they wore and were hunted by two squads of marines. Hall travelled with the trainees as observer but helped them in no way. The hunters had captured all but one of the previous trainee groups within four days. Seventy per cent of trainees failed to complete the course as a whole but Hall suspected Lauren Greer would not be among those.

On the first day, she had without fuss taken charge of the group and led them on the longest evade ever seen by Hall. She walked them such huge distance, they were well outside the hunters range by the third day. She stopped the group and said, "We do not have to eat snails and ferns. There is a village back there. I am going to pretend to be a fell runner, trot down there and buy supplies. We can hide up somewhere and take it easy. She stripped off her fatigues, revealing very brief running shorts and singlet. The sight stunned all four of her male companions and Hall. Suddenly Lauren’s prodigious feats of strength and endurance made sense, as they saw the rippling muscles on her belly, massive biceps, wide back, big round ass and highly defined and massively muscled legs.

One trainee, an ex-SAS trooper whom Lauren had taken over from as leader, made the mistake of saying to the others, Well it’s no wonder, she’s a bull-dyke with bigger balls than any...

He never got to finish, as Lauren struck. She caught him with a perfect upper cut that lifted him off his feet and laid him out in the heather, unconscious. When the others looked back at her she was sprinting away at a fantastic pace. She returned with a new rucksack on her back stuffed with drinks and food. Dave Hall watched her jog towards the group and smiled. He was beginning to feel an infatuation with Lauren Greer that would last the rest of his life.

The SAS trooper, Marty Smith apologised to Lauren when she returned and he meant it. He said, Please forgive me for my barrack-room crudeness. I was insecure and stupid.

He knew this woman was a natural warrior whom he would be glad to follow anywhere. Marty too would spend the rest of his service career in awe of Lauren. He became one of her most trusted, loyal and longest serving team members.

As she flew back to Belfast after a year’s absence, Lauren had time to reflect on what had been the most exciting and intense year of her twenty-one years. In her rucksack were pictures apparently taken in India, Indonesia and Australia. Some had been doctored to show her in some famous locations. Her passport had visas and entry and exit stamps for these countries. All this to support her cover story to her parents and friends, of a year taken to travel and decide what she would do after her rejection by the navy. In her shoulder bag were two other important items: a licence to carry a personal protection weapon world-wide and her diary, in which contact numbers and passwords for use in her operations were encoded and hidden in innocent notes. After a weeks rest at her parents home in Bangor, she was to report to an anonymous hut in a military compound in the grounds of Hillsborough Castle. There she would once again meet Teddy Ranson and be introduced to the cell or team she would work with under cover.

At Aldergrove Airport, she went to the British Airways desk and was given an envelope. In it were the ownership papers, parking ticket and keys to her car. As she walked to the long-term she looked at the keys: Renault, how boring. I guess I had to have something anonymous. The ticket gave a bay number. When she stood by the bay she grinned as she looked at the bright French racing blue Renault 8 Gordini. Now that’s more like it. A little blue screamer. Oh yes I will enjoy chucking this about. Rear engine you dope don’t try to put your kit in with the engine. She started it and let it idle as she got the handbook from the glove box and started to speed read. Among other things noted in Dave Halls report to Teddy Ranson on Lauren was her ability to speed read and retain information, perhaps indicating an eidetic memory. The other thing noted which was now being demonstrated by Lauren was thoroughness, tidiness and fastidious cleanliness. When she was satisfied she knew where everything was in the car, she closed her eyes and operated all controls so she could reach anything without having to look. She got her Berretta subcompact pistol in its special car holster and attached it by magnetic strips in the holster to the underside of the dashboard. Again, she closed her eyes and practised reaching for the weapon. Only then did she engage gear and drive away. On the road into Belfast, she explored the upper reaches of the hot little cars performance. She slowed and drove at legal speeds. She came to an Army/RUC road check and had a little flutter of excitement as she wondered if they would find her weapon. She had her driving licence in her lap when the cop approached the window. She handed it over and gave him a big smile. Where are you coming from Miss Greer? he asked.

Airport, I’m just back from a long break.

Ah that explains the nice tan. Thank you Miss, drive safe.

As Lauren drove up the gravel drive of her home, she saw her mother peer out the landing window. When Lauren waved, she waved back and ran. As Lauren parked alongside the garage, her mother was running down the steps towards her squeaking excitedly. Lauren quickly put her weapon in her bag and got out of the car. Her mother grabbed Lauren by the shoulders and looked at her carefully, Are you well darling? We have worried so. Those cards were nice but couldn’t you have phoned more than those few times? You are very tanned and fit looking. My goodness have you been working out more, you look so strong.

Lauren thought, Yeah a week of sun lamps not tropical sunshine. "Yes, I’ve been keeping in shape. Sorry but phone calls are so expensive abroad, I had to be careful."

Darling wherever did you get the sweet little French car?

It’s a company car. I’ve got a job Mummy.

"Really, already? However did you manage that?’

They are a London based company. I went for an interview there last week.

So what do they do?

They run driving schools. I will be managing their franchise in Belfast.

A driving school, oh Laurie, that’s not very challenging.

Don’t you mean not very prestigious, Mummy?

Margaret Greer looked wounded but Lauren knew very well that’s what her mother meant.

After she’d unpacked and showered she came down for lunch. She was wearing a tracksuit. Laurie you will need to get some good suits if you are to work in an office. Shorts and tracksuits seem to be all you have. I’ve made a ham salad, not very exotic after the rich stuff you must have had.

It’s just fine Mummy, I like your salads. Yes I will go shopping for some new outfits tomorrow.

Oh darling, you must let me go with you. I will take you to my dressmaker. Off the shelf and ready-made will never fit you and besides most of it is terrible tat.

Lauren started her salad and stopped talking, grateful for the household mannered rules that said that talking while eating was discouraged. When she’d finished she waited for her mother to finish and said, Where is Daddy?

At Clandyboy as usual. He plays everyday except Sunday. I’m a golf widow darling. I thought when he retired I’d get out more but he spends all day at the club. I’ve joined a bridge club out of desperation. I have to say I enjoy it. Oh darling you’ll never guess who’s a member. Your old piano teacher Miss… what’s her face, Joyce...

Pianoforte darling and she’s Miss Fortesque-Smyth.

Yes, that’s it. Dreadful stuck up bore she is and so full of airs and graces and that horrible put on speech.

I’m sorry, Mummy. About Daddy, I mean.

I suppose I should be used to it. I lived most of my life without him around.

Lauren watched her mother carefully. She had always struggled to know just how serious she was being. Margaret Greer had a way of making everything sound dreadfully serious, even when she was just having a minor rant. Lauren thought her mother was, for the first time, beginning to show her age a little. She was still a beautiful woman with the same perfectly proportioned high cheekbone Nordic looks. Her hair was a little less golden, fading towards fair and her eyes and mouth showed crinkles and lines that her foundation and impeccably applied make-up could no longer conceal. Her clothes were still as immaculate and expensively conservative as ever and her slight figure remained neat and shapely. She squinted a little in a way that suggested she was resisting the need for glasses.

Is Daddy still going on about me letting him down with the navy?

Yes sometimes, but he means well dear, he wants the best for you, as do I. So dish the dirt darling. Any hot holiday romances while you were in exotic climes?

Her mother’s question took Lauren back to her one and only sexual encounter. It was the night she decided to get rid of her virginity and succumbed to the advances of a drunken lad at the end-of-school party, when everyone including Lauren, had got smashed on a lethally mixed punch that had an entire cocktail cabinet’s contents in it. She recalled the event with horror and was sure that sex of that kind was not something she was in any hurry to repeat. No Mummy, sorry to report I was entirely and contentedly celibate.

Darling, contentedly celibate is an oxymoron. You’ve just not met the right man yet or…

Or what?

Or girl, darling. We would not be at all shocked if you happened to swing that way.

Mummy, once and for all, I’m not a dyke.

I didn’t say you were, dear.

Lauren stood and cleared the table; glad to hide her blushing face from her mother. I am tired from travel, would you mind if I go and have forty-winks? asked Lauren when she’d finished washing, drying and putting away the lunch things.

What time to you want me to call you?

Don’t bother I’ll be down long before dinner. Shall I cook?

No need, dear. Daddy has booked us in at the Culloden for dinner tonight as a welcome home. We’re in at eight. Formal, dear. Do you have something that still fits? You’ve gotten so big.

I’ll manage to squeeze into something suitable, said Lauren, trying not to give in to the temptation to be more sarcastic.

She lay on her bed and stared at