Wild Fiction

Chapter 30

At the bottom of the garden a fox moved silently in the long shadows cast by the morning sun. Nobody actually saw the fox that was eyeing up the squirrels and nobody saw it jump over the wall later and disappear into the woods. At the same time, nobody saw a man, wearing army camouflage fatigues, climb half way up a tall tree that stood on the edge of the forest outside the author’s house. He looped a strap around the trunk of the tree and another around a branch. The tendons in his forearms twitched as he pulled the straps tight and joined them together. With a click, a carabiner fastened his harness to the straps and secured him safely in the branches. Expert fingers rolled the safety lock up the carabiner, preventing it from opening accidentally. He removed a pair of powerful binoculars from his bag and pointed them at the house.
The man wrapped the straps of the binoculars around his thin neck and let them fall against his chest. After wiping the palms of his hands against the seat of his trousers, he pulled a sandwich wrapped in greaseproof paper from his bag. He unwrapped it and stuffed his hairy face with the tuna-mayo-sam. There was a flask of tea next to the second packet of sandwiches.
The first note he scribbled in his notebook read: 08:37 - Redhead female + man, leave house in red Jaguar XKR convertible. He pulled a mobile phone out of the bag and selected Write Messages from the menu. With his thumb he tapped out an SMS and sent it.
The second time he wrote in his notebook his hand trembled slightly: 09:28 - 1 female, 2 males, leave house on foot via kitchen door. Direction: Epsom Town Centre.
Once the fictionals were out of site he scrambled down the tree and headed after them.

Chapter 31

They drove very quickly to London. They drove quickly because Genevieve was driving. Every speed camera they went through flashed a good-morning to them. At each flash Genevieve waved at the camera and smiled into the rear-view mirror. The author counted eight in total. She pulled over in the Brompton Road in front of Harrods and got out.
‘Come and find me when you’ve finished your chores,’ Genevieve said to him. ‘I’ll be in women’s fashions, lingerie, cloud 9 or the champagne and oyster bar.’
‘Yes dear,’ the author said unclenching his fists and nodding at her.
In Osterly Square, he found the last parking place left in London. ‘I’d like to access my safety deposit box,’ he said quietly as he sat in the car. Then he repeated the sentence in a louder and firmer voice a few times before looking at himself in the rear-view mirror. He entered the Overseas Bank of China with his briefcase held firmly in his hand and walked over to the Customer Information counter.
‘I’d like to access my safety deposit box,’ he said handing over a piece of paper on which he had written the account number.