On the other hand, he thinks they may be playing a long game, have him in their sights and are just waiting to pull him when it suits them. He decides he needs a beer, he is unaccountably thirsty until he remembers all the bacon, ham and crubeens he has eaten. Inside he goes to a table, sits with his back to the wall where he gets a clear view of the door. The waiter gives him La Rázon to read. Idly he flicks through the ads for prostitutes, is amused as always by the descriptions of what is available, as he tries to keep his mind clear. What Donnellan wants from him is one last job, he said. If it was only that, Hugh thinks, I'd do it with good grace. But he knows it won't be, that Donnellan is such a tenacious foe, so competitive, he always needs a fight, it is probably why he remains so sprightly, burning up his nervous energy. He looks up from his paper and feels the familiar tightening in his scrotum, he tenses across his shoulders, feels a cold sweat despite the bar's air conditioning. The two men who have slid into the adjoining table are speaking in English, which is unusual in this part of Madrid. And they are not loud and arrogant in the way of a lot of English tourists. They pay no attention to Hugh, talk quietly as one of them orders, 'dos cervezas.' So what Hugh thinks, they're probably a couple of tourists who have lost their way, or a couple of guys here on business. But he can't just accept that, their arrival has disturbed him, set his alarm system running. He sips his beer and waits to catch the waiter's eye. When he does so, he indicates by sign language he wants to pay him. As soon as the waiter puts the saucer with the bill on the table, Hugh gives him five euros and goes casually through the entrance to the toilets. He sees a door marked Privado, tries the handle; it opens into a small kitchen and storeroom. Breathing quickly Hugh scrutinises the room, spots an open window, which looks down into a dark alley, lit only by a distant street light. He climbs through and pushes the window behind him.
        Outside, Hugh is relieved when he leaves the alley and then the rather dark side street, to be back in the bustle, the brighter lights. Maybe it's nothing, he thinks, I'm just jumpy because Donnellan wants to drag me back into something dangerous, when I don't want anything other than the life I have here. Staying alive and being alert at all times is enough, he knows that. He walks quickly heading along the Calle de Arenal towards Sol, where the crowds are thicker, the chances of following him become more difficult. Unless they are just the front guys, there to flush him out, while the rest of the team have him covered. He wonders who they are. Irish, British, maybe a couple of IRA men come to pay him a visit. He knows he is of value to the IRA dead or alive, either way they will milk his appearance for all they can. Or is Donnellan having him tailed? Testing him in some way, to see if he is still able to look after himself.
        At Sol, he crosses the road to the entrance of the Metro, passes by, then turns quickly into the small crowd and descends rapidly to the trains. He gets line 2 to Ventas. The carriage is busy. Hugh is the last to enter. He is fairly sure he is not being followed. Nevertheless, he is wary, watches as he adopts the weary glazed look of a Madrilèno going home. At Ventas, he is first off, walks quickly to line 5, and takes the train to Pueblo Nuevo. This carriage is not busy, and again he is certain nobody has followed him in to it. He changes to line 7 and gets off at Gregorio Marañün, and takes line 10 to Plaza de Castillo, where he takes a taxi. At the first bar he sees, he gets out, and uses a payphone. 'Hola, Eduardo y Paco almorzaron.'
        Which is this week's code when he needs an emergency meeting with Donnellan. He suspects Donnellan is asleep, it takes him a moment before he says slowly, 'Vale. Ver es creer.'

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