63

The squirrel sat on the stone balustrade, eating an acorn. Twenty yards from our party. He didn’t seem bothered by us.

We made quite a shooting party. Me and Margaret, Vaughn and Miriam, and Freddie.

I’d shown them how to load and fire a revolver. Freddie was waving his towards the squirrel.

‘Don’t!’ Miriam said, putting her hand on his arm.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ I said. ‘The thing about a handgun, it’s useless for accuracy, no matter what the gunfighters do in the pictures.’

‘Useless for you perhaps,’ Freddie said, fancying himself a marksman.

‘Freddie ...’ Miriam said. I shared her feeling. This was a mistake, letting the training session become some kind of social affair.

Freddie stood sideways, the way he’d seen gunfighters stand in the movies. Billy the Kid. Annie Oakley. The kind where the sharp-shooter could hit a coin at a hundred yards.

‘Don’t, Freddie,’ Miriam pleaded. She was excited, though. It was the guns. I’d seen the effect before, on people who hadn’t been on the receiving end, who hadn’t yet learnt that the world would be a better place if all the guns were melted and turned into plough shares.

‘Don’t worry,’ Vaughn said. ‘He’s got as much chance of hitting that as I have of becoming King.’

Freddie squinted. I’d taken him through the basics. Squeeze the trigger, prepare yourself for the recoil. I’d laid it on a bit thick. Wanted to let Freddie know that this wasn’t a toy. He was probably expecting his arm to fly backwards, the kind of kick you’d get from a shotgun.

He fired. The squirrel, unmolested, dropped its acorn and ran along the balustrade, leapt into a tree and dis-appeared.

‘Let’s see you do better,’ Freddie said to Vaughn, who took the gun and checked the chamber.

‘What am I aiming at?’ Vaughn asked, squinting into the morning sun. In his shirtsleeves and braces, he looked like he’d rolled out of bed.

‘As I said, with a gun like this, aiming is going to get you killed. I want you to practise drawing the gun, and firing forwards as soon as you can. The only way to make sure you kill a man with a handgun is to stand so close you’re touching him, and make sure you get your shot off first.’ These were things I’d learnt through experience, in the trenches, and in the crowded alleys of Hong Kong.

Vaughn ignored me. He strolled over to the balustrade and put down his teacup.

‘That’s Mummy’s best china,’ Miriam said.

‘It’s all right,’ Freddie said. ‘He won’t hit it.’

Vaughn didn’t comment. His standing as lord of the manor was suddenly at stake.

He fired. A stone chip flew off the balustrade, and I winced, anticipating a ricochet.

‘Nice try,’ Freddie said.

Vaughn wasn’t finished. He cocked the gun again, aimed and fired. No stone chip this time. He was rattled, and his aim was only going to get worse. He fired again, and again, but the family china was safe.

Margaret stood up, exasperated.

‘Give it here,’ she said to Vaughn. He handed her the gun carefully, making sure to point it away from her.

‘The bullets come out the other end,’ Freddie quipped, as Margaret took the gun.

She ignored him, and cracked open the gun, peering down the barrel. She flipped open the chamber and emptied the shells into her hand, then flipped it closed again. She pointed the gun into the air and dry fired it three times. Click click click.

‘It helps if you put the bullets in,’ Freddie said.

‘Thanks,’ Margaret said, as she opened the chamber again and fed in one shell. She closed the chamber and aimed at the cup.

She fired, and the cup disintegrated. She winked at me, and turned to Freddie.

‘Bombay shooting club,’ she said. ‘Gold rosette, three years in a row.’

‘Miriam, get another cup,’ Freddie said excitedly, now the gauntlet had been laid down.

While the others played with the gun, Vaughn nodded to me and strolled away from the group. I joined him at the far end of the terrace. He looked out across the Forest.

‘We’ve got a job to do,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘Aspidistra.’

“When?’ I asked.

‘As soon as possible,’ he said. ‘I’m getting pressure from the top. If I don’t show some results soon, they’re going to send someone to get things moving.’

‘Who would they send?’

‘Let’s not find out.’