The Hit List by Anne Brooke

Author:Anne Brooke [Brooke, Anne]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The next morning, Robert turned up.

Jamie had wakened far too early, stuffed the list into his dressing gown pocket and wandered downstairs, leaving Dad to lie in bed for a while. Both of them could do with the rest. The house was quiet, the sort of quiet you got in the country when winter moved into spring. No traffic, no people, no noise. Not even the birds were up yet. After making himself toast and coffee, he took it into the living room, turned the fire on and looked over what he’d written down again. It made him laugh, but it was a thin kind of laughter.

A faint knocking made its way into his consciousness. What the hell was that? And where was it coming from? Getting up, he traced the noise to the front door and, puzzling over who it was at this time of day, opened it.

“Robert?”

He was standing, one hand leaning against the doorframe, hair un-brushed, and dressed in a way that looked as if he’d simply 191

THE HIT LIST

thrown on the first things he came to. Not at all like the Robert Trevelyan he knew. Not having a clue what to say or do, Jamie stared at him.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s me.”

Jamie blinked. No, this was real. Robert still looked the same.

His voice sounded as if he’d been smoking too many cigarettes without the soothing benefits of coffee to ease the rasp, and his face looked grey.

“Come in. Are you okay?”

Robert stumbled past as Jamie stood aside in the hallway. In the living room, he braced himself against the window and took a deep and shuddering breath.

“Rough night?” Jamie asked him, and was rewarded with the tremor of a smile.

“Yes, you could say that. What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

“God, it’s early. I’m sorry, Jamie. I didn’t realize.”

“Forget it. Do you want some coffee? Whisky?”

He nodded.

“Which?”

“Coffee. Please.”

“Okay. You sit down and I’ll get it.”

It was only after Jamie had put the kettle on and washed out the coffee machine that the realization hit him.

The list.

He’d left it in there with Robert. On the table.

Jamie legged it down the hallway and burst through the living room door. “Robert, I—”

“What?”

From one of the armchairs, he looked up with a start and 192

THE HIT LIST

almost dropped the paper he’d been reading. On the table, the hit list was lying where Jamie had left it next to his half-drunk coffee.

“Nothing,” he said. “I…I was wondering if you’d like toast as well?”

“No, but thank you.”

“Good. Good. I’ll just tidy up while the kettle’s boiling. You look better now. That’s good.”

He folded up the offending article, pleased beyond measure that Robert hadn’t seen his insanity, and picked up the mug.

As Jamie turned to go, Robert said, “Sorry, I forgot to ask. Is your father all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine. Well, he’s sleeping now, but he’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”

“That’s good. It’ll be a relief for everyone.”

“Yes. Yes, it will. I’ll get the coffee then.”

In the kitchen, Jamie closed his eyes and once more felt relief racing through his body.

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