CHAPTER 12 SAS

  

For the next three years, Mary's life consisted of working hard, keeping fit, going on exotic holidays in the summer, ski holidays in the winter and visiting Scotland to see and attempt to spoil her goddaughter.

Then, one afternoon in the office, there was a sensation on the TV in the canteen area. There was a terrorist attack on the Iranian embassy, about a mile from where they were. Hostages had been held since mid-morning and negotiations were taking place but with no success. This had been happening for twenty-four hours but TV coverage had been curtailed. All work in the office ceased as everyone crowded into the canteen, spellbound by the drama that was unfolding on the TV.

Suddenly, hooded figures dressed in black could be seen abseiling down from the roof of the building and smashing through windows. Gunshots and explosions could be heard and smoke came from various apertures of the embassy. Then a hooded figure appeared at the main doorway and gave a wave of acknowledgement to the waiting police that everything was dealt with and it was safe for them to enter the building. When the hostages emerged, most of the women were in tears and clearly in shock, they were shepherded into waiting ambulances and taken away.

Everyone in the office, including Mary, started clapping and cheering. For about ten minutes on the TV, there appeared to be organised chaos as people went in and out of the embassy. Bodies were being carried into police vans and the TV commentator was getting excited. He interviewed a senior police officer, then a hooded rescuer who was a member of the Special Air Service. Before he answered every question that the TV commentator asked, the SAS man stroked his forefinger and thumb across his chin. Mary could not believe what she was seeing and the Scottish accent confirmed what she saw. It was without doubt she declared to herself. This was Jock Stewart! A sense of pride rose in her chest, followed by a touch of regret and longing. 'Will I ever get over this man?' she asked herself.

The following weekend, Mary hired a car and drove to Hereford where the SAS had their headquarters. Going to the heavily fortified gate she asked to speak to, or be allowed to meet with, Sergeant Jock Stewart. Her request was met with stony silence and then her identity was required. Her request to meet any member of the unit was strongly denied and she was told, in no uncertain terms, to leave the curtilage of the camp gate.

Shocked by the brutal manner in which she was dismissed, at what she considered a general enquiry, she went back to her car and tried to figure out her next move. She saw three women drive out of the barracks giving, what appeared to be, good-natured banter with the sentry. Mary thought that they might be the wives of some of the personnel billeted there and decided to follow them.

They drove to a supermarket car park in Hereford and Mary followed them into the store. She watched as the three women did their shopping and, when they retired to the cafe area, she approached them and asked about Jock Stewart. Again, she was met with complete silence and then strong denial that they came from any military area. As the women were getting angry at Mary's persistence, she decided to leave before a scene was created.

Driving back to London, she was overtaken by two police cars and ordered to stop. For the first time in her life, Mary was the subject of a police enquiry. She was told to get out of the car, which was methodically searched, and a policewoman gave her an initial body search. It was then that Mary noticed that two other policemen were pointing automatic weapons in her direction. Bewildered, Mary thought to herself that this was a bad dream but when she was informed that she was being taken to Hereford police office for further questioning, blind panic set in making her realise that this was grim reality.

On the journey back to Hereford, her questions to the driver and accompanying policewoman were met with a stony silence. She was frightened and close to tears when they reached the police office, where she was conducted to an interview room. Here she was confronted by two men in civilian suits. The policewoman stood, looking straight ahead as though devoid of any emotion. The two men had hard expressions on their faces and spoke in cold, short, direct questions. When Mary gave her name and address, one of the men left the room for about five minutes, during which time there was silence in the room. Mary gathered her composure and took stock of her situation.

When the other man returned, she asked for the services of a lawyer. On being told that she was a suspect of a terrorist organisation, Mary burst into hysterical laughter, so much so that tears rolled down her cheeks and her stomach ached. This outburst clearly shocked the two interrogators, causing them some embarrassment. Silent communication showed that the two men had lost their composure, so Mary seized the initiative and told them all about Jock Stewart, why she was there in a hired car and the position she held in Campbell Holdings. At one point she was on her feet pointing her finger at the two men as though they were junior staff at the office, to whom she was delivering a strong objurgation for a misdeed.

One of the men tried to interrupt but Mary continued unabated. When she finished and sat down her legs were like jelly but there was fire in her stomach as fear had turned to anger. She turned to the policewoman, who was trying to stifle her mirth and asked in a very polite manner if she could get something to drink as all the emotion had made her very thirsty.

A nod from one of the men and the request was granted. The two men looked at each other and informed Mary that the whole interview was being taped and that she had brought suspicion on herself with all the questions she had asked at the supermarket and at the entrance to the barracks. She was also informed that, as of now, her flat was being searched for weapons or anything to connect her to a terrorist organisation. At that moment, the policewoman entered the room with a tray of four mugs of tea and some milk and sugar. The atmosphere in the room changed from foreboding to one of relaxation.

After finishing their tea, the two men left the room and the policewoman sat down beside Mary. She told her that the two men were senior officers from the anti-terrorist squad and that she would not have missed that interview for anything. One of the men returned and informed Mary that her flat had been searched with negative results and that the senior concierge, a Mr Miller, had corroborated everything that she had said. No apology was given but Mary was just relieved to be out of that intimidating atmosphere.

On arrival at the flat, she was met by Dusty Miller who told her, in no uncertain terms, how foolish she had been in asking questions about the SAS in Hereford. Even he would be unable to contact Jock Stewart if that was what Mary wanted. Alone in the flat, she decided that their relationship really was over and she parcelled up all of Jock's belongings to take to the nearest charity shop on her way to work on Monday morning. She hesitated at her collection of dolls and figures that Jock had given her, so they were all put into a box, along with some photographs and were stored in the loft.

It disturbed her that her privacy had been violated by people searching her flat and her personal belongings but she was determined to put it all behind her and get on with her life.

 

Several years went by. Mary gained promotion at her work, she still went to the AGMs of Campbell Holdings, mostly in America, flying business class and going on shopping sprees with Beth Campbell. She continued to keep herself extremely fit, running, swimming and taking up Judo at her private sports club. She went to Memus at least twice a year, especially now that Laura also had a baby boy. Every year Mary went on exotic holidays with a firm called Exodus, hiking in the foothills of the Himalayas, cycling in Thailand and white-water rafting in Canada. She went on dates with various men but none of them measured up to what she wanted in a boyfriend.

One Sunday morning, she was finishing breakfast with a leisurely cup of coffee and a read of the Sunday newspapers when a headline on the inside pages caught her eye. A military helicopter had crashed on a flight from Northern Ireland, on a hillside in the Kintyre Peninsula, killing all personnel. One of the dead was named as a J Stewart SAS. Time stood still for Mary. An empty feeling came over her and she shed a few tears. She phoned Dusty Miller who said that he would try to get some more information for her.

Later in the week, he contacted Mary and said that there was a shroud of secrecy about the fatal accident and that no information was forthcoming. Mary was heartbroken at such a loss of young life but that finally put her romance with Jock to rest. After all she thought, it is better to have loved and been loved than never to have loved at all.