Chapter Text
It was raining. Again.
Raindrops pelted onto the pavement, drenching everyone and everything who dared venture into it. The streets were paved with puddles, little mirrors reflecting the grey skies overhead.
This was British summertime at its finest. The forecast had been for warm weather, endless blue skies filled with nothing but bright sunshine; weather that would usually be expected for mid-July. They’d been wrong, as usual. It had been raining virtually non-stop since Thursday and now, as Aaron made his way through gloomy streets filled with equally gloomy people, that promised balmy weather seemed firmly out of reach.
He veered to the edge of pavement to avoid the spikes of a large black umbrella coming his way. As he did, a van drove by, splashing muddy water onto the right leg of his trousers. The material stuck to his leg, chilly water running down and soaking into his sock. He jumped back from the kerb, biting back a string of curses.
The weather wasn’t even at the top of Aaron’s list of things to moan about that morning. Firstly, it was Monday, which was bad enough in itself, then Aaron’s train had been delayed due to branches on the tracks, and now, worst of all, he had a soaking wet trouser leg. The pouring rain was just another addition to a long list of reasons why Aaron wanted to write today off and crawl back beneath the safety of his duvet. The journey from his flat to the station was a relatively short one; half an hour on the train, three stops on the Tube, and then a five-minute walk along the river. It wouldn’t be difficult to turn around and head for home. He was already late; perhaps no one would even know he was missing. It was surely his best option at this stage; it was a fact of life that no day that started with wet socks could ever turn out to be a good one.
A disciplinary for failing to turn up to work wasn’t ideal, though, so Aaron steeled himself and pressed on. He dodged around a black cab stopped at the lights, and then jogged across the street to the station. Pulling one of the glass doors open, he stepped back to allow a woman pushing a pram to pass by, and then ducked inside, releasing a sigh of relief. He pushed his sodden hood off his head and headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
The second floor was in full motion. Aaron melded seamlessly into the bustling flow of people, keeping his head down and hoping no one noticed him coming in late. People marched in all directions, some balancing multiple takeaway coffee cups in their hands, others clutching armfuls of files, all of them with an air of someone Being Productive. The beep and whir of the photocopier sounded from down the hall as someone forced it into action. By the tell-tale clunking sounds it was making as Aaron passed by, he reckoned maintenance would be called out to fix it again before lunchtime.
He slipped into the office, shrugging his jacket off and heading for his desk. Shaking a few droplets of water off, he hung it on the back of his chair and then set his bag down at his feet. As he bent down to reach the power button on his computer situated under his desk, he stole a quick look around the office. Most of his colleagues were sat at their respective desks, and already there was the staccato click-clack of keyboards from around the room. No one appeared to have paid him any attention. He exhaled a little sigh of relief.
“Late night?” said a voice from over his shoulder.
“Jesus!” Aaron started, jerking around in his chair. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me? One day I’ll have a gun in my hand, and then we’ll both get ourselves into trouble, won’t we?”
“Oh, someone’s in a sunny mood this morning.” Adam clapped a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and sat himself down at a neighbouring desk that didn’t belong to him. “Here,” he said with a grin. “Get this down you.”
He set a takeaway cup down in front of Aaron’s keyboard. Aaron groaned, curling his hands around it and inhaling the sharp smell of strong, decent coffee. “God, ok. You can scare me all you want if you keep bringing me coffee.”
“Deal.” Adam barked a laugh. A poor woman a few seats down startled and glared daggers at the side of Adam’s head.
If Aaron hadn’t become completely immune to Adams' laugh, it would have made him flinch too, but eighteen months of working alongside each other on the force meant that Aaron had become used to his lack of volume control.
They’d found each other in the station cafeteria at lunch time on their first day, when Adam had asked the person next to him in the queue for change for a fiver for the vending machine. That person had been Aaron, and from then on, they’d stuck together, muddling through the nerves of a new job. No matter where Aaron was in the station, he could guarantee that Adam wouldn’t be too far away. Not least because he took every opportunity to sneak up behind Aaron and make him jump. Aaron was working on honing his intuition, or ‘spidey senses’ as Adam called them, but he still managed to get his wits scared out of him on a regular basis, which Adam delighted in.
“Come on, then,” Adam said, setting his own drink down on the desk and scooting closer to Aaron on the wheels of the office chair. “What’s your excuse this time?”
“You make it sound like I’m late far more often than I am,” Aaron protested. He chose not to dignify Adam’s raised eyebrow with a response. “I forgot to put my phone on charge. It died in the middle of the night, so my alarm didn’t go off.”
“Likely story,” Adam said, and then stood, ignoring Aaron’s indignant noise. “Anyway, I just came by to tell you there’s a meeting in the briefing room at eight-fifteen. Not sure what it’s about but I heard that Sarge is going to be there, so I reckon it’s quite important. And you’re late already, so get your arse up.”
Aaron glanced at his watch, seeing the second hand resting on ten minutes past. “Copy that.”
“And,” Adam leaned in closer, “I heard rumours that there’s a new guy joining the unit today. Transfer from somewhere. Hope that doesn’t mean they’re kicking one of us out!”
“If they are it’ll be you,” Aaron said flatly. “Liability.”
“Piss off!” Adam aimed a slap at Aaron’s thigh. Aaron dodged it neatly and gave Adam a wink, which made him guffaw. The poor lady from a few seats down now looked positively murderous. “All right, up, come on.”
“Be there in a sec. Cheers for the drink.”
Adam tipped his own cup at Aaron, and then headed off out into the corridor. Aaron watched him go, shaking his head to himself. How anyone could be that cheerful at this time on a Monday was beyond him.
Five minutes later, he slid into the free seat next to Adam at a table at the back of the briefing room. The coffee was doing its job, caffeine buzzing along his veins and shocking his nerves awake. He dropped a slightly battered notebook he’d found in his desk drawer onto the table and flipped it open to a clean page. The Sarge wasn’t there yet, so Aaron took a moment to relax in his chair, warm cup cradled between his hands, ignoring the way his damp trouser leg stuck to his skin uncomfortably. There was a quiet hum of chatter around them, the rustle of people pulling notepads and pens from their bags, the occasional ping of an incoming message on someone’s phone. At the front of the room, a tv had been set up, the screen still dark.
“Look,” Adam murmured, nudging Aaron in the arm. “At the table at the front there. You ever seen him before?”
Aaron studied the profile of the man Adam had gestured towards. He sat by himself, writing supplies set out neatly in front of him, pen, pencil, notepad, lined up like waiting soldiers. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, around Aaron’s own age. Short, dark hair was combed neatly across his head. A pair of thick-framed, black rectangular glasses sat on his straight nose. He was looking idly round the room, sitting up a little straighter whenever anyone came through the door, and then relaxing again when he saw it wasn’t a person of authority.
“Don’t know him,” Aaron replied, barely above a whisper. “D’you reckon he’s the new guy?”
Adam nodded once. “Gotta be, hasn’t he?”
The door swung open with a rush of air, and a woman strode into the room. At once the whole room sat up straight in their chairs, silence rippling across them. Paper rustled and pens clicked, and then all Aaron could see from their table was the backs of people's heads. She stopped at the front of the room, and set a plastic cup filled with water and a brown file onto the table closest to her. She looked up, surveying the sea of attentive faces.
Sergeant Jeanette Williams stood at around five foot four, though she had a way of filling the space around her that made her seem bigger than even the tallest officer in the station. She had a stern brow and cold blue eyes, but her cheeks were soft, the corners of her mouth creased with laughter lines. Crow’s feet threaded from the corners of her eyes into her hairline, though Aaron had not seen her laugh once in the time he’d worked with her. If he had to guess, he’d place her in her early fifties. He’d never know for sure; no one had ever had the balls to ask her.
“Morning everyone,” she said, voice clear and level. “I hope you all had good weekends?” There was a collective murmur of ‘Ma’am’ by way of reply. “Thank you all for being here promptly; apologies for the lack of notice. I understand you’re all busy at this time on a Monday, but this requires our immediate attention.”
She paused, taking her time looking around the room at them. Her eyes settled in Adam and Aaron for a moment, and Aaron found himself sitting a little straighter, schooling his features into something appropriately serious. He set his coffee cup down, folding his hands onto his lap. Her gaze dropped away, down to the file in front of her.
Under the table, Adam knocked Aaron’s knee with his own. “What’s she looking at us for?”
Aaron lifted his shoulders and let them drop again. “Probably cos she’s kicking you out," he muttered back. His grin turned to a grimace when Adam kicked his ankle. The officer in front of them turned and gave them a reproachful stare, and they fell silent, turning their attention back to the sergeant.
“Let’s get to it,” she was saying. “I’ve called you here to make you all aware of a new situation we have been asked to assist with. The matter is of some delicacy; I’m sure I don’t have to remind you all the importance of confidentiality. Allow me to introduce you to our new client.” She paused to pick up the remote that rested in front of the tv and pressed a button. The screen flickered, and then a black and white photograph appeared on the screen.
There was a rustling of whispers as recognition swept through the room. Aaron frowned. That face was no stranger; it had been splashed across the front of every newspaper for months now. It was frequently on the evening news, too, highlighted with camera flashes from the paparazzi. The country’s media loved nothing more than hunting Robert Sugden.
“I can see by your faces that you know who he is,” Williams said a little dryly. “I’m aware that a lot of less than glamourous things are said about him in the press, but I do hope you all remember how highly this department regards professionalism.” She paused for a moment, watching them. Everyone stayed perfectly still in their seats. “His, shall we say, high profile presence has brought about some trouble for Mr Sugden. He asked us for advice a few months ago when he received some anonymous threats, but this has now escalated; over the last week the threats have increased in severity. We have now been asked to provide police protection.”
Adam nudged Aaron in the arm, side-eyeing him. Aaron shook his head back minutely, nodding his head towards the new guy sat at the front.
“So, we’ll be putting teams in place for Mr Sugden’s personal protection. A day team, and a night team, to provide around the clock surveillance. From the office, we will be opening an investigation to determine when these threats are coming from, with an aim to bring them to a halt. For your reference, please see these copies here of the latest threat Mr Sugden received.”
She produced a stack of paper from the brown file, and the copies were passed around the room. Aaron took one from the officer in front of them and set it on the table between them.
Adam let out a low whistle from between his teeth. “Ouch,” he said.
Adam frowned, looking down at the piece of A4 paper in front of him. It was a full body image of Sugden, one that had been taken by without him knowing. It showed his side profile, his ear and one eye visible as he looked down the street he was stood on. Half the photo had been obscured by a brick wall, obviously taken by someone who hadn’t wanted Sugden to see them. The photo had been printed, and then splattered with red paint, droplets in the blond of Sudgen’s hair, on the grey of his suit. Aaron swallowed.
“As you can see, this has escalated into a threat-to-life situation, so we need to move quickly. Now, before we go any further, I’d like to take a moment introduce you all to our newest member of the department here,” she gestured to the man with the glasses at the front, who stood and turned to face the room, hands neatly clasped behind his back. “This is PC Finn Woodall. He has experience in this kind of matter, and has kindly agreed to transfer in and provide his experience in this unique situation. I trust you'll make him feel welcome.”
PC Finn Woodall pushed his glasses up his nose. He nodded a greeting to the room, gave an awkward little wave, and then moved to sit down again. His foot caught on the metal leg of the table and he all but fell back into his seat. Adam snickered, and Aaron elbowed him.
“PC’s Dingle, and Barton,” Williams raised her voice to them, and they both froze in their seats. “The both of you, along with PC Woodall, will form the primary daytime team for Mr Sugden. You’ll escort him during the day, and a night team will take over from you each evening to be stationed outside his residence. Dingle, you’ll be leading your team. I daresay all the training you’ve had will no doubt come in handy.”
She smiled a smile that could almost be considered friendly, if you looked at it from the right angle. Aaron couldn’t work out the meaning behind it, because his brain had wiped itself blank. His mouth hung open, and he floundered under all the eyes in the room that had turned to stare at him.
It was Adam’s turn to elbow him this time, hard, and in the ribs. Aaron blinked, clearing his throat around the lump that had formed there. “Yes, Ma’am.”
He barely heard the rest of the instructions, didn’t even catch the names of the people who would be on the night team. Adam was virtually vibrating with excitement in the seat next him, but Aaron just felt numb.
Who on earth thought he could be in charge team on a case like this? He’d only completed his training a year ago, and had only done small jobs before, like escorting controversial politicians to and from meetings on the odd occasion. He was nowhere near as experienced as some of the other officers. There was no way he was ready for something like this.
“There will be another briefing for the office-based team in a moment, but field teams, I’m going to ask you to head down to the weapons lab now.” Aaron swallowed hard at that. “After, you’ll be provided with Mr Sugden's schedule. Spend the rest of the day getting to know each other and preparing yourselves. You’ll meet with him at 0800 tomorrow at his place of residence. I’ll check in with you soon, but for now, are there any questions?”
“Ma’am,” a smattering of voices responded. One by one they got to their feet, filing out of the room.
“Aaron, mate,” Adam said, picking up Aaron’s coffee for him. “We’ve got to go, come on.”
Aaron blinked, gathering up his pen and still-blank notebook. He followed Adam out into the corridor and closed the briefing room door behind himself.
There was nothing for it, he thought. He’d have to quit his job. He wasn’t cut out for this. All the training he’d undergone, with weighty guns and bulky bulletproof vests had seemed hypothetical at the time. To have to use it to protect a real, living person? For it to be Robert Sugden, no less? No, give him back his politicians, he was way out of his depth here.
The papers weren’t flattering about Sugden at the best of times, god knew what he was like in the flesh. Aaron had been right after all; nothing good ever came from starting a day with soggy socks.
“Mate!” Adam bounced into him, throwing the hand that wasn’t holding his drink around Aaron’s shoulders. “Proper field work! We get to be bodyguards, how cool is that?!”
“‘Personal Protection Officers’, Adam,” Aaron said, correcting him in a voice that sounded slightly hollow. “We’re not in a film.”
“Oh, come on, this is amazing! And you’re in charge! I’m gonna have to get used to calling you ‘Boss’ aren’t I?”
Aaron balked, feeling a little sick. He turned around, scanning the hall for the nearest exit he could sprint towards, and spotted PC Woodall hovering close to them, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Aaron side-stepped Adam’s excitement, making a beeline for their new teammate. “Sorry, mate,” he said, holding his right hand out. “I’m Aaron, this is Adam. Welcome to the station.”
“Finn,” he replied, taking his hand. “Thanks, it’s nice to meet you. I’m looking forward to getting started.”
Now Aaron could get a good look at him, he was a little taken aback. He didn’t like to stereotype, but Finn wasn’t someone he’d identify as being obviously involved in security work. He was slender, shoulders narrow and slightly hunched over. The lenses in his glasses were thick, and he pushed them up his nose every few seconds. He wasn’t unattractive, though; he might have been someone that Aaron approached in a club once upon a time. Aaron knew better than to judge people on their appearances, but he struggled to imagine Finn being threatening in any sort of capacity, much less firing a gun if required to.
“So, Sarge said you’ve done this sort of thing before?” Aaron asked, following Adam as he beckoned them in the direction of the lifts. They passed someone smacking the top of the photocopier with the palm of their hand while it beeped pathetically.
Finn nodded. “I was on another case not long ago, same sort of thing, though the client wasn’t nearly as high profile. Can’t wait to meet Mr Sugden,” he said, grinning.
“He might not be as bad as we’ve heard,” Adam said diplomatically, pressing the button for the lift and watching it turn green. “I mean, who can trust anything the media says these days?”
“No smoke without fire,” Aaron muttered, and then caught himself. Despite his inner turmoil, badmouthing the person he'd just been assigned to protect was no way to proceed. This wasn’t personal. It was business. “But we shouldn’t judge him until we’ve met him.”
Finn made a small disapproving sound which Aaron chose to ignore. He took his coffee back from Adam, disappointingly lukewarm now, and they stepped into the lift, heading down to the basement.
***
“Hi, Mum. Sorry it’s late,” Aaron said, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he stabbed the plastic film on his ready meal with a fork. He shoved it in the microwave and hit the start button before heading through to his living room.
“Hiya, love,” his mum cooed down the line to him, and Aaron smiled at the familiar fondness in her voice. “How are things?”
“Good,” Aaron threw himself onto the sofa in the living room. He felt for the remote blindly with one hand, finding it wedged down the side of the cushion and then pointing it at the tv. When the screen flickered, he pressed mute quickly and then leaned back, eyes on the screen as he spoke. “Just calling about some news I got today.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ve been given a new assignment. Field work, with a team and everything.” It someone felt even more real, even more daunting now he was saying it out loud to someone outside the force. “Personal protection for someone who’s asked the station for it.”
He heard Chas’ sharp intake of breath. “Oh, love that’s fantastic! See, I told you all that training would pay off, didn’t I? Come on then, who is it you’re working for?”
“Mum,” Aaron rolled his eyes even as he smiled. “You know I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential. And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t tell you; you’d tell half the family in ten minutes flat.”
“Cheek!” Chas huffed. “Oh, love, I’m dead proud of you.”
“Thanks. Everything ok up there? How’s Paddy?“
“Oh, you know, same old same old. He’s not been much company to me lately, ‘cos he’s obsessed with painting the nursery. Forest Green, Aaron. Who paints an entire nursery, floor to ceiling, Forest Green?”
Aaron snorted. “Reckon he’s the one with baby brain, not you. Are you ok? How’s little one?”
“Fine, love. She’s kicking, as usual. Her favourite time to move around is at about three in the morning, and then she settles herself right on my bladder.”
“Nice.” Aaron grinned. “Causing trouble before she’s even born. Sounds like a proper Dingle. Make sure you’re not doing too much though, yeah? Take care of yourself.”
“God, you sound like Paddy,” Aaron could almost hear her shaking her head. “Don’t you worry about me, just make sure you come home and visit your mum soon, ok?”
“I will.”
“And be careful in this new job of yours, ok? Be safe. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Aaron hung up, staring at his phone for a moment and biting his bottom lip. He really needed to go home and see her soon, especially if the baby was coming in a few short weeks. It was moments like this that he really felt the distance between London and Leeds. When all he wanted was to give her a hug, it felt like she was a thousand miles away.
From the kitchen the microwave beeped. He pulled himself up and went to fetch his dinner.
He put the ten o'clock news on as background noise while he ate, only half listening to it. Barely two mouthfuls in, his ears pricked up at the sound of a familiar name.
“...tricky for high profile businessman Robert Sugden,” the newscaster was saying. “It has been a controversial few months for him and it could be about to get even more challenging. Despite calls for him to step down as CEO of S.R Sugden’s, it is rumoured he could be about to unveil a new project to raise-“
Aaron paused the tv as they flashed up a photo of Sugden’s face. The file he’d been given earlier still rested on the coffee table he’d chucked it on when he got home. He reached for it, flipping the front cover open. A passport sized photograph of Sugden was stapled to the top right corner of a piece of paper detailing his full background. Aaron settled back into his sofa cushions to read.
Full name:, it said, Robert Jacob Sugden (RJS).
Age: Thirty-one.
Place of residence: Kensington, London.
Father: Jack Sugden, founder of S.R. Sugdens. Deceased.
Mother: Sarah Sugden, aristocrat, co-founder of said company. Deceased.
Aaron stared at that word for a moment. Deceased. He hadn't heard that both Sugden’s parents were dead. Despite all the media coverage on him, that piece of information had somehow passed him by.
Siblings : Andrew Sugden (Andy). Adopted. Estranged since 2013.
Spouse: None.
Children: None.
Pets: None.
Police protection in place at client’s request. Leading officer: Personal Protection Officer (PPO) Aaron Dingle. Team to be confirmed.
RJS radio alias: Gemini.
Below that were dates of upcoming public appearances with times and locations. Aaron scanned them briefly, and then looked back up at the top of the page at Sugden’s photograph. The dirty blond hair and green eyes were familiar to him; they’d been splashed across the front page enough times, but the rest of him was something of a mystery to Aaron.
He’d hesitate to label the thing he was feeling as sympathy, but he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of life he led out of the public eye. With no obvious family or close acquaintances to speak of, what did he do when he wasn’t busy having his photo taken by the country’s media? No wonder he looked so angry all the time. Aaron passed the play button on the tv, watching the photo morph into a clip of Sugden retreating into a waiting car with heavily tinted windows.
Outside the last remnants of the summer evening had given way to darkness. Aaron got up and drew the curtains over the windows without bothering to turn any lights on. By the light of the tv he moved to the kitchen, dumping his plate in the sink. He moved swiftly through his routine of checking the doors and windows were locked, and then finally turned off the tv and shut himself in his bedroom. He lay in bed, trying to get himself to relax but knowing, with the tight knot that had taken up residence in his stomach, sleep wouldn’t come easy to him that night.
***
Aaron rose before his alarm. He dressed in his suit, carefully checking his kit off as he put it on. Badge, gun, radio. Check, check, check. He clipped his radio onto the back of his belt, threaded the wire up his back and over his shoulder, then pulled his jacket on, leaving the earpiece dangling loose on his lapel. With a full half an hour before his team were due to pick him up, he sat at his kitchen table, a cup of tea held loosely between his palms. His team. Those two words alone made his stomach twist. Too late to run away now.
The only positive thing that Aaron was clinging to was that their first day wasn’t going to be as hectic as he’d anticipated. All they had to do was drive Sugden to his office, accompany him inside, stand guard, then take him back to his place of residence whenever he was ready. It was simple, he told himself. He’d done this before. He’d be fine.
A car beeped it’s horn outside the window. Aaron grabbed his keys and phone and locked his door behind him.
A fine mist of rain had started, drizzling down from dark clouds that looked heavy overhead, like they could burst at any moment and soak them to the skin. The wind was sharp, biting at Aaron’s cheeks.
“Morning, boss,” Adam said with a grin, leaning round from the passenger seat when Aaron pulled open the door of the black Range Rover that was waiting for him.
Aaron rolled his eyes at Adam. “Morning, Finn.”
“Boss,” Finn parroted, meeting Aaron’s eyes in the rear-view mirror and smiling when Adam laughed.
They were both dressed in dark grey suits matching Aaron’s, earpieces hanging over their shoulders. Aaron could identify with this; looking the same, acting the same. Being part of a collective and working together. He knew he could at least get that part of this job right.
“Ugh, please don’t make ‘Boss’ a thing,” he said, reaching for his seatbelt as Finn indicated and pulled out into the traffic.
“Well, calling you ‘Aaron’ isn’t very professional is it?” Adam replied. “What else are we meant to call you? Chief? Sir?”
“God, no,” Aaron said, grimacing. “Don’t even start with the whole ‘Sir’ thing.”
“‘Boss’ it is, then.” Adam nodded, satisfied, and settled back into his seat.
Aaron chose to leave that argument for later. “Ok, quick briefing. You both read the schedule, yeah?” He got affirmative murmurs from the front. “We pick Gemini up at 0800 for his conference at 0900. I accompany him in his car. We wait at his HQ for however long he wishes to stay there for, and then we return him to his residence in the afternoon. Simple enough. Clear?”
“Copy,” two voices answered.
“I don’t know what’s going to be waiting for us at his office, so eyes open, yeah? Let's be cautious until we know what we're dealing with."
“I’m actually looking forward to meeting him,” Adam said. “See what he’s really like. He can’t be as bad as what we’ve seen on tv, can he?”
“Probably,” Aaron heard Finn scoff.
“One more thing,” Aaron interrupted before they could go any further. “Let’s keep it professional. Personal opinions off the table.”
The drive to Kensington was painful, the car crawling along in the rush hour traffic. They seemed to hit every single red light they came across. Aaron watched the cars around them crawl along, broken up by the whir and hiss of red double decker buses roaring past in the bus lanes. At eight on the dot they pulled up to a set of iron gates. Finn flashed his badge to a man in a yellow high-vis who waved them through.
Aaron’s eyes widened at the complex they drove into. The houses were identical, one long line of tall white buildings curving around in a semi-circle. In front of them sat a large oval patch of grass, immaculately kept, not one blade of grass out of place. And the cars that were parked on the edge of the grass. They were the stuff of Aaron’s dreams. Porsche’s, Bentley’s, not a scratch on the bodywork, not a scuff on the wheels.
Halfway round the semi-circle, Finn slowed to a stop, pulling up behind a sleek black car, the same one with the tinted windows Aaron had seen Sugden getting into on the tv the previous evening.
“That’s Michael, right?” Adam said. “His driver?”
“I’ll confirm,” Aaron said.
He climbed out, buttoning his jacket and smoothing his hands down his sides. He tried to stop the tremble in his fingers, suppress the nausea rolling in his stomach, the desire to run away back to the safety of the office and his paperwork.
He looked down at his watch. Two minutes past eight. “Ok, here we go,” he leaned back into the car to say, “radios in.”
All three of them wound their wires around the back of their right ears, pushing the earpieces in. Aaron reached behind him, bypassing the gun on his belt to flick the switch on his radio.
Shutting the door behind him, he walked past the black car. The window wound down a little way, revealing a middle-aged man in a black suit, hair greying around his temples. The look he gave Aaron when he asked for identification was not a friendly one. He showed Aaron his license with a huff, and then rolled the window up and the engine rumbled into life.
Aaron shook his head, gave Adam a quick thumbs up and then moved to the cream stone steps that led up to house number fourteen. He jogged up them to press the doorbell, and then headed back down, standing a little way from the bottom step with his fingers folded together in front of him.
Mere seconds later, the door to the house opened. Aaron’s stomach lurched. He tried to breathe through it and kept his eyes forward as the man bypassed him, heading for his car. Aaron followed on, moving in front of the man to open the door behind the driver’s seat for him. Then, finally, they came face to face.
“Morning, sir,” he said, making sure to keep his voice steady. “PPO Aaron Dingle. It’s good to meet you.”
Robert Sugden took his outstretched hand, one foot inside the car. “Likewise. Look, we really must be going, I’m late already.”
“Sir.” Aaron held the car door for him, doing a quick check left and right as Sugden climbed inside. He shut the door and then crossed around to the passenger seat, reaching up to press the button for the mic fixed in his lapel. “Gemini on the move.”
“Copy that,” came Adams' reply in his ear.
Aaron seated himself next to Michael, ignoring the iciness that radiated off him, and pulled his seatbelt across his body. The car moved off, and Aaron checked the rear-view mirror, making sure the Rover behind them followed closely.
It was strange; all the times Aaron had seen Sugden in the papers or on the tv, he’d seemed like some sort of made up figure. Untouchable. It had been easy to forget that he was a real person. But now here he was, sat mere feet from him.
Everything about him screamed wealth. The navy suit he wore was tailored to perfection, effortlessly fitted to the angles of his shoulders. His burgundy tie looked as if it was made from silk, and probably cost more than Aaron made in a week. He’d pulled a tablet from a black leather briefcase he’d brought from his house and tapped away on it, head bowed so his gently styled blond hair obstructed most of his features.
Suddenly he looked up, catching Aaron’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. Aaron blinked and looked away, steadfastly watching the traffic around them.
“How long, Michael?” he asked.
“Few more minutes, sir,” the man in the driver's seat replied promptly. “Traffic is a little bad today.”
“No change there, then,” he said wryly. Aaron heard him rustling and then the sharp click of a briefcase being shut.
After getting caught at another set of red lights, they finally pulled up to the offices that acted as headquarters for Sugden’s company. Aaron watched a small crowd that had gathered at the front of the building, his stomach sinking when he caught a glimpse of bulky cameras hung around their necks.
As soon as their car was noticed people started moving, photographers crowding close to the curb, cameras raised. Aaron bit his lip.
“Boss,” Adam’s voice sounded in his ear. He was so focused on the scene ahead of him that he forgot to be annoyed at his new nickname.
“Sir, would you stay inside the car a moment please?” Aaron asked, glancing back at the car closely following them.
“Why?” Sugden said. When Aaron turned around in his seat to look at him, he had one hand on the door handle. “What part of ‘I’m late’ didn’t you understand?”
Aaron shoved away a pinch of irritation. “Just a small issue of security, sir. Won’t take a minute to sort out. Adam,” Aaron said into his radio.
“Receiving,” came Adam’s reply.
“Move those photographers and the civilians back. I’ll escort Gemini when there’s a clear path, over.”
“Copy that.”
Aaron watched Adam get out of the car and walk towards the photographers, arms outstretched. They protested, pointing towards the car a couple of times, and arguing with Adam, but on his insistence, they moved a few metres back from the front doors.
“That’s really not necessary, you know,” Sugden said, sounding a little weary. “I'm used to them; they’re everywhere I go.”
“That may be so, but it’s part of my job to make sure they don’t bother you, sir. It’s one of the reasons you hired us.” Aaron kept his voice carefully polite. He got out of the car without waiting for a reply, heading around to Sugden’s door and checking their surroundings under the guise of doing up his jacket buttons.
“Gemini on the move,” he murmured, and this time Finn's voice came back to him.
To his credit, Sugden walked into his building with his head held high, steadfastly looking forward and not at the photographers shouting his name and asking questions between the clicking of their cameras.
“Why do you feel you need protection now, Mr Sugden?”
“Are you scared, Mr Sugden? Is that why you’ve hired bodyguards?”
Aaron shot them a dirty look as he followed Sugden inside, hovering close to his right shoulder.
There must have easily been fifty people in the white tiled reception area alone. Men and women hurried around, some talking animatedly to each other, others gesturing at pieces of paper they held. A long glass desk sat at the front of the reception, phone ringing away to itself while the staff buzzed around it. There were two floors above them, with wide glass window, allowing everyone up there to see the hubbub in the lobby.
A few people had stopped to looked at the commotion of voices coming from outside the entrance doors, staring at their boss walk through them. Aaron felt their eyes on him as strongly as if they were actually touching him. Sugden, though, seemed unfazed. He simply nodded a greeting at the woman sat at the reception desk, and then strode towards the silver doors of the lifts at the back of the lobby.
They slid closed behind them, and a mechanical female voice announced they were going up. Aaron glanced at the hard set of Sugden’s jaw, and took a breath, steeling himself for whatever lay in wait for him on the other side of the lift doors.
***
By the end of the day, what little faith Aaron had had in his ability to do this job had evaporated. Sugden was an arse.
He’d requested them, but all he’d done was look at Aaron as if he was something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. If he deigned to look his way, it was only to sneer at him. Aaron couldn’t see how he was supposed to endure this every day without killing Sugden, which was the exact opposite of why he was there.
By five in the afternoon, they were heading back to Kensington. Aaron sank into the front seat of the car, a combination of nervous energy and a lack of sleep from the night before finally catching up with him. He did his surveillance of the drive home through eyes that felt like sandpaper, watching the rain being sluiced away by the wipers. Once or twice he glanced in the mirror at Sugden, who was looking out of his window, seemingly lost in thought.
When they finally pulled through the gates up to the complex Aaron got out first, checking his peripheral vision before opening the car door for Sugden. He followed on his heels as he hurried up the steps to get out of the rain.
‘We’ll wait for you here, boss,’ Adam said in his ear and Aaron nodded back at the car.
“Sir, if you don’t mind, I need to conduct some checks before you go inside,” Aaron said to Sugden’s back as the man slotted his key into the door.
“Checks?” Sugden said, with all the indignity as if Aaron had just asked him for a strip search. “What on earth for?”
“For your safety and security, sir. I just need to check all the rooms; it won’t take me long.”
“Oh, for the love of- Fine. Just make it quick.” Sugden pushed the door open. He stepped inside and to the left, setting his briefcase onto the floor.
“Thank you, sir.” Aaron passed him. The heels of his black shoes echoed in the polished wooden hallway.
There was nothing on the ground floor except a flight of wooden stairs, spiralling up to the second floor. Aaron climbed them, conscious of Sugden’s eyes following him, and then turned left into what appeared to be the kitchen.
He reached for the light switch on the wall, blinking at the sudden brightness. A quick look round, and he moved on, heading for the living room. He looked behind the tv, behind the curtains, behind the door. In the bedroom he opened the wardrobe, parting a couple of the shirts hanging up to see the back of the unit. He glanced into the bathroom, and then into the study, taking a quick look under his desk.
At first look, the house seemed immaculate. The decor was modern, all black and varying shades of grey, and the furniture, though minimalistic, looked expensive. As Aaron moved from room to room, though, he noticed things that made that impression begin to fade. A couple of mugs and plates lay unwashed in the sink, and the cutlery drawer had been left open. In the study, documents had been piled into a messy mound instead of being immaculately filed as Aaron had assumed they would be. In the bedroom, pillows were strewn haphazardly across the unmade bed.
The notes had said Sugden lived alone, had no family to speak of. His isolation was becoming increasingly obvious the deeper Aaron dug. That flat was grey in a different way to the weather outside.
A voice echoed up from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you quite finished?”
Aaron left the bedroom and headed for the hallway. He looked over the bannisters down to where Sugden stood, briefcase still in hand. “Yes, sir. All secure.”
“Wonderful,” Sugden said with a roll of his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Aaron inclined his head and headed down the stairs. “Of course, sir. You have my number if you need anything. The car will be here at eight tomorrow morning.“
“Yes, yes, thank you.” Sugden waved him off.
Aaron bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from retorting with something he knew he’d regret. Instead breathed out, forced his fists to unclench and then opened the door, resisting the urge to slam it shut behind him.