“THE BOMB IN THE SHED…” - CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 …
Previously on “The bomb in the shed…”; Sunday lunch sees the tensions between Arthur and Camilla coming to a head but Arthur realises this too late. Kinga briefs in her security due diligence chief Gibson to dig into the secrets of Arthur’s past.
And here we go with CHAPTER 4…
Chapter 4
When Camilla awoke it took a moment for her to remember where she was; sleeping in a single bed in a room stacked with boxes. She was staying at David and Angela’s house. And right now they were arguing about her, that much was clear from the muted voices floating up from below. The cause of the argument wasn’t entirely clear though, as Camilla could only catch snippets that didn’t make much sense. How embarrassing. She waited until she heard David disappear off to work before going down to get some juice and toast.
Downstairs was open plan, with kitchen, dining table and TV area all in one space. David and Angela had done the conversion a few years ago, and although Camilla had been sceptical of this kind of modern living at first she’d grown to like it. Angela was at the table dressed in sweats feeding Gemma, working from home today once the nanny arrived.
“Morning.” Camilla tried to sound light and breezy.
Angela looked up with a big smile. “Good morning, sleep well?”
Her daughter in law deserved an Oscar. No hint of the argument from earlier. Barristers were actors though, weren’t they?
“Lovely, thank you,” replied Camilla,
She hadn’t slept well at all. The bed was lumpy and uncomfortable and the room was basically a dumping ground for all the stuff that didn’t quite fit into the couple’s lives, and most of it was David’s. Is that what Camilla was, just one more unwanted relic from his past? Still, it was kind of them to give her somewhere to stay at all. Space and time to think was what she needed, but she couldn’t bear the idea of checking into a hotel on her own.
Angela said, “There’s coffee, if you want to use the machine.”
Why did everything have to be so complicated these days? Machines and pods. What was wrong with a kettle and bit of instant?
“No, I’m ok.”
Angela left Gemma to wrestle with her porridge on her own and came over to the kitchen. “Let me, I was going to have another anyway.”
That was kind of her.
As Angela worked the machine, she said. “I got a chance to look at the heads of agreement last night. You know, entertainment law isn’t really my area.”
That was also incredibly kind of her. Angela hadn’t got back from work much before nine and she hadn’t even eaten. God knows when she’d found time for it all. And she was underselling herself, her help with Camilla’s book contracts had been invaluable.
“Really, that’s great. What did you think?”
“I think you must have very a good agent.”
Which was reassuring.
Angela handed her a steaming cup of coffee. “It’s not like your other contracts though, you’re giving up a lot more control.”
The coffee looked like a faff to make but it certainly tasted better than instant.
“Yes, I thought as much.”
That was the concern. Camilla was used to taking notes from Amira and the publishers. After all, writing is editing. But once she signed the deal with Netflix she’d be giving up Jacqueline Devereaux to the machine. Her stories and how they were told would be shaped by a procession of screen writers, directors, actors and editors. Their vision, not hers. And that’s before you got onto the marketing and merchandising. Amira had warned her she’d have to step back and watch it all happen.
Angela said, “Is it really what you want?”
She was clearly concerned, and apparently happy to let Camilla turn down a huge deal if it didn’t feel right. She should be all for it, if she was giving David’s inheritance a moments thought. But of course she wasn’t. If she was motivated by money she wouldn’t have become a human rights lawyer. It made Camilla feel bad. For causing the argument this morning, for hardly ever seeing Angela and Gemma anymore. Or David. Maybe this was a chance to clear the air.
She said, “David told me you don’t like to come round to the house anymore because of Arthur. Is that true?”
“Did he now?” Angela went back over to Gemma who had decided she wasn’t getting enough attention and had started to squeal. “Do you really want to have this conversation, Camilla?”
“I think I need to.”
After all, she was standing in her son and daughter in law’s kitchen having spent another night alone in a room full of boxes. She should be at home with Arthur, but she didn’t want to be, not yet. Things didn’t feel right between them, but why?
Angela started mopping up the mess on the high chair. “It’s how he treats you, and David. He’s withdrawn, obsessive and totally uninterested in anything apart from whatever it is he does in that shed of his. And he has no relationship with Gemma at all.”
“Oh he’s a little quiet, but he’s not that bad.”
The words came out before Camilla had really thought about what she was saying, or whether she meant it.
Angela rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem, you keep apologising for him. So does David. I think he’s treated you all badly for years. And he doesn’t know how to handle your new career, so he’s getting worse.”
Was she right?
“He’s not a bad person, you know.”
It was hard to know if she was trying to convince Angela, or herself.
Angela paused wiping. “Maybe he’s not, but good people do bad things sometimes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think Arthur is suffering from depression, I think he has ever since I’ve known him. He should get some help with it.”
Why would Arthur be depressed? They had a perfectly nice life. Ok, he struggled to adjust when he got back from New Mexico, but he got over it, didn’t he?
Angela sighed and said, “You don’t believe me.”
“I just don’t see it. Why?”
“Maybe he grew a conscience.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” replied Camilla.
She was definitely starting to sound defensive now, she couldn’t help it.
Angela undid Gemma’s cotton bib and carried it over to the washing machine. “He was a weapons engineer for the MOD, Camilla, you do understand what that means?”
Is that what this is all about? Arthur’s work? Camilla hadn’t given it much thought over the years, it was just what Arthur did. It certainly didn’t interest her. But it clearly bothered Angela. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised, given what Angela did for a living.
“You really have that big a problem with Arthur?”
Angela said, “Absolutely I do. I don’t like how he treats his family and I don’t like that he helped to build weapons that kill people. And I certainly don’t like Gemma being at your house. It’s not worth the risk.”
“What risk?”
“Do you even know what Arthur’s building in that shed? He could blow the whole house up one day for all we know.”
It all made sense now, the fragments of the argument she couldn’t quite piece together before. It wasn’t just Camilla’s unannounced visit that was the problem, or that David had come over for Sunday lunch. It was that David had brought Gemma with him on Sunday, without asking Angela.
The doorbell rang.
Angela said, “It’s the nanny, I have to go. But please just think about it. Something needs to change with Arthur, for his own sake as well as yours.”
She picked up Gemma and disappeared into the hallway leaving Camilla alone.
---
Jacob stared at Professor Winterbourne and tried to keep his frustration in check. Stay calm and confident, as if all of this was part of the plan all along, not the stab in the back it clearly was. Jacob had delivered the perfect pitch, knocked it out of the park, a compelling vision, jaw-dropping numbers, suitably vague on details. But now it was the technical Q&A and Winterbourne seemed set on screwing the whole thing up. Thank god it wasn’t the full investment board or it would have all been over by now. This deal was quick and under the radar so it just needed sign off from Kinga.
“Are you saying the technology doesn’t work?” she asked.
“I’m saying I can’t possibly know,” replied the Winterbourne, taking his glasses off and wiping them on his lab coat. “If this is all the work of one man then he’s obviously some kind of genius. I would have guessed this was a team of engineers, each expert in their own field, collaborating with a world class nuclear physicist. There’s definitely something in it, but is it the basis of a new clean energy technology? It’s impossible to say. I just think it’s highly unlikely.”
Kinga said, “But it’s at least possible?”
“You need to understand, in essence this is a kind of cold fusion were talking about. It’s hokum, totally debunked. It’s like asking a chemist to give their view on the secret of alchemy.”
He laughed uneasily as he said this, but Kinga didn’t. It was no secret turning base metals into gold was pretty much her life philosophy. Winterbourne had started to sweat slightly. It was like watching a novice pitching in the dragons den.
Time to step in.
Jacob said, “I think what Winterbourne is saying is that we definitely have something new here that’s credible. He’s asking if we’re one hundred percent sure. But are we ever? The beauty is, it doesn’t even matter. We don’t have to get the technology to market, we just need to demonstrate to the big players that it’s remotely possible. Doubt is ok. Imagine what they’d pay if they believed there was just a chance it worked.”
There was a flicker of a smile on Kinga’s face. Winterbourne looked like he was going to say something else but then stopped. If he’d wanted to fight on he’d thought better of it. Kinga was gone a few minutes later, off to another meeting. Winterbourne was packing his notes back into his briefcase, red-faced.
Jacob said, “What was that all about?”
They’d worked together for a few years and Winterbourne was Jacob’s go-to for technical due diligence. He’d always been reliable. Discrete. Until now.
“Everything I said was in the report, as always you only focus on the positives.”
Most technical due diligence was a balance of positive and negative, everything couched in caveats that protected its author from culpability further down the line. That didn’t mean you went around shouting the stuff out in the pitch. Even Winterbourne knew that. Jeopardising the investment didn’t make any sense.
“You’re really that worried it won’t work?”
Winterbourne snapped his briefcase shut. “No, Jacob, I’m no. I’m worried that it will work. And you should be too.”
“What do you mean?”
The scientist was already on his way out. Jacob jumped ahead and held the door closed.
Winterbourne glared at him. “Limitless clean energy is a wonderful idea, I get it. But what if that’s not all this technology can be used for, it’s incredibly dangerous. Have you thought about that?”
An image popped into Jacob’s mind. Bella lying on the rising platform. Just a big box of metals, wires and electronics. So innocuous looking. Winterbourne didn’t even know about the bomb in the shed, he was worried based only on the limited data Arthur had sent through. But Arthur would never actually finish Bella, right? Jacob just had to make sure that never happened.
Winterbourne was still staring at him, “Of course you’ve thought about it, you just don’t care.”
Jacob stepped aside so his colleague could leave.
---
Kinga’s phone erupted and dozens of eyes turned to stare at her. The instructions at the start of the performance had been crystal clear, all mobiles off or on silent mode. She’d ignored it. They were watching a year six school play for Christ’s sake, not the National Opera, and this one was particularly dreadful. All these parents staring at the kids through the lenses of their cameras phones, they probably couldn’t even tell which little bundle of joy was their own. Kinga certainly couldn’t pick out her Stella in all those crazy costumes. Her husband glared at her as Kinga stood, phone still ringing, and excused herself. Legs, bags and glasses were moved out of the way all along the row to allow her escape, a chorus of tuts following. It was a relief to be out of there and milling around the deserted lobby.
She answered the call, “Gibson, can’t this wait?”
“Something’s come up, I think you need to hear it.”
Jesus, not Arthur bloody Price. She’d just signed off on the deal.
“Go on then.”
“I think it’s better we talk face to face.”
That didn’t sound good.
“Ok, when?”
“Now. I’m outside the theatre.”
Fuck’s sake. Of course he was. Maybe he was watching her after all. She nipped outside, spotted his old Honda Civic just down the road and jumped in the passenger seat.
She said, “Can we be quick? I don’t want to miss any more of my daughter’s play.”
He laughed, like it was a great joke, and handed her a flask. “This should help you get through the rest.”
Whatever was in there gave her a warm burning sensation inside, it was just what she needed.
He said, “We got the basics on Price, he was at the MOD on and off, with stints at a number of defence contractors, nothing remarkable, clean record, so far so good.” He took the flask back and took a swig. “But there was an anomaly. A two year secondment in New Mexico, 2000 to 2002, working with the US government in the Los Alamos National Laboratory.”
“Doing what exactly?”
He shrugged. “It’s not clear, they do a range of research, from energy to nuclear weapons to environmental science. I approached a contact, asked him to find out what Price was doing there. He said he would do, no problem.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Complete radio silence.”
The first splatters of rain landed on the windscreen. They sat still and listened. In a moment the rain was falling hard, the sound of the raindrops echoing off the metal of the roof.
“So what does it mean?”
“I’m not sure. But when the walls come down like that it gets me worried. Something clearly happened in New Mexico, the question is, do you want to know what it was? If we investigate it could get messy, and expensive.”
Now wasn’t the time to take risks. “Ok, let’s do it, but we need to move fast.”
“Ok.”
Kinga said, “I really should get back inside.”
Gibson smiled, then handed her the flask.
Maybe she could wait a little while, until the rain died down a bit.
That’s it for Chapter 4, I hope you enjoyed it and are looking forward to more.
NEXT CHAPTER is out now - Chapter 5
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Great pace - it reads really well and I'm intrigued to find out more.
Some small errors spotted -
Writing is Editing. Bit once - should be But
In the dragons in the den - should it be to the dragons?
Notes into back into his briefcase - delete first 'into'
Still starred at him - should be staring?
He husband glared - her husband
Sorry I've done some editing before but hopefully this is feedback you want! Thought I may see you in the Oxshott gallery today to give in person!
Storey so far is exciting, looking forward to the next chapter