Page 70 of Next in Line

‘Superintendents don’t call me sir when they’re off duty,’ said the Hawk with a wry smile.

‘That’s just not going to happen, sir,’ was William’s immediate response.

‘By the way, if Chief Inspector Brooks runs Royalty Protection as well as he’s captaining his side today, that will at least solve one of our problems,’ said the Hawk as an umpire stepped out onto the ground and loudly rang a bell to alert the players that the game would begin again in five minutes.

‘Good luck, chaps,’ the Hawk shouted as Ross and Paul made their way out to the middle.

Ross took guard. ‘Middle and leg,’ he said to the umpire.

‘If you’ll excuse me, sir,’ said William, ‘I’ve got an even more important match to attend.’ He turned his back on Ross and Paul to watch a game of tip and run that was taking place by the side of the pavilion. Peter was facing up to some fairly hostile bowling.

‘Howzat!’ shouted the bowler when he hit Peter on the shins.

‘Out!’ cried another boy, and Peter burst into tears, bringing Beth quickly to his rescue, but Peter just as quickly pushed her aside.

William smiled at his son, until he heard the sound of leather on timber and a cheer coming from behind him. Turning around, he saw Paul, head bowed, walking dejectedly back to the pavilion, having failed to score.

Paul ignored the murmurs of ‘Bad luck, old chap,’ and ‘Unlucky,’ both of which he knew were untrue. He just hadn’t been concentrating. After unbuckling his pads he grabbed a sandwich and went in search of an empty deckchair.

•••

‘Who’s that sitting next to Paul?’ asked Arthur.

Sir Julian glanced to his right. ‘Rebecca Pankhurst. She’s a member of William’s inner team, and has just been promoted to Detective Sergeant.’

‘That can’t be an easy name to inherit.’

‘William tells me she’s every bit as formidable as her campaigning ancestor, and that she regularly outshines the rest of the team, himself included.’

‘I’m an idiot,’ said Paul.

‘That can hardly be described as classified information,’ teased Rebecca.

‘I was determined to get fifty today,’ he said, ‘impress the boss and put us in with a good chance of winning.’

‘Perhaps you should have spent more time in the nets and less time chatting up Christina Faulkner.’

‘Touché. Though I think I’m in with a chance.’

‘With her, even the umpires are in with a chance,’ said Rebecca disdainfully. Paul looked even more hopeful. ‘I hear you spent last week with the Prime Minister’s personal protection officers,’ she added, wanting to change the subject.

‘Yes. Now that Colin Brooks has moved into Buckingham Gate to head up Royalty Protection, the Super asked me to keep an eye on the new guy who’s taken his place.’

‘Any good?’

‘He was doing well until a passing car backfired when the PM was on a Saturday morning stroll around her constituency. Her two protection officers grabbed the Iron Lady, almost threw her into the back of her car and took off.’

‘But isn’t that standard procedure if a PO thinks his principal might be in any kind of danger?’

‘Yes, but they left Denis Thatcher stranded on the pavement.’

Rebecca burst out laughing.

‘I apologized to him, and he told me not to worry, as it wasn’t the first time it had happened, and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last. Damn,’ said Paul as another wicket fell. ‘It’s not looking too good for us now. The Super’s the next man in, and as he was a sprinter in his youth he’ll probably run out Ross, who’s our only hope. Close your eyes and pray.’

‘Like you did when you were at the crease?’

Paul slumped back down in his deckchair, and looked to his left to see Christina smiling at him.

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