by Alan Norris
It was low and heading straight towards me. Its searchlight tracking a bright column of blue-white in the deluge of water that fell from the sky.
It would be on me in seconds. There was no cover. I pulled my bag off, dropped it to the ground and curled myself over it. Tucking in my arms and head, I hoped to disguise my shape and look enough like a wet rock to escape notice.
The chopper suddenly lost height, dipped and rolled in the stormy air as it felt the wind coming off the rock-face. The probing beam of the searchlight swept over me, its engines howled as the pilot fought to bring it back under control. It gained height as it moved away from me, its beam of light flashing off the smooth wet surfaces and across rocky ledges.
My heart was thumping against my chest. I was shivering, trembling all over. The muscles in my arms became bar-tight as I clutched the backpack to my body. A twist in my brain had thrown my mind into memories of an action my team had done years ago. We were in the desert, behind enemy lines and the chopper had been well armed. At first we’d thought it was one of our own, come to lift us out, but the spray of machinegun bullets sent us diving for what little cover there was. I lost two very good people during those moments, one was a close friend that I’d joined up with.
I breathed deeply, slowly calming the demons that fought in my mind. A warning from my pounding heart brought me back to the present with a gasp. Angina, I could do without that problem. This time I had my little box of pills and, careful to keep them out of the rain, I popped one of the tiny things into my mouth and swallowed it, cupping rain in my hands to help it on its way. I think some of the relief must be psychosomatic, because the tightness in my chest that had been building to a painful spasm started to dissolve almost immediately.
Shrouded by the rain I saw the helicopter do a swift touch-and-go manoeuvre. I hoped it had picked up the search team and was going home. I watched as it continued to scour the rocky cliff top before banking away and being lost from view in the stormy night.
I pressed on, it was fully dark now and, although the rain had eased, I couldn’t see well enough to be able to make a descent. When I did chance going near to the edge of the outcrop, I couldn’t see any sign of the bottom. It must have been a half-hour later that I stumbled into the edge of a shallow stream. I followed it up the short slope and came across what felt like a shallow cave. Must be a spring, I thought, easing my bag off and pulling myself into the shelter of the low overhanging granite.
It was the work of a few moments to find my tiny camping stove and to set a can of water to boil. The yellow light from the flame showed me that the sheltering overhang of rock was quite deep, I needed to rest and it’d be perfect.
~ ~ ~
It was still dark when I woke. I had slipped inside a plastic survival bag the night before, fully dressed, boots as well, I was a bit too warm. Maybe that’s what woke me. I hoped so. But I had a vague recollection of there being something else. A noise. A scratching sound came from the edge of my shelter. Then silence, I strained to catch the slightest clue. A smell. A sound. The darkness was a solid thing. All was quiet. Perhaps it was a dreamt sensation. But I didn’t think so.
There it was again. A snuffling noise. Could it be the tracker dog. No, I thought. There’d be more noise.
Something touched my boot. As slowly, as quietly as I could, I reached into my shirt pocket for the box of matches I’d brought. I held the match well out, as far as I could reach without moving, so’s not to blind myself with its flash. The flare of light, harsh in the darkness, showed me the wide-eyed fright of a brown, fur covered head, before it was gone. Just an inquisitive deer, probably stopped by for an innocent drink. It had stopped raining and was as still and quiet as a church crypt.
Well, I thought, time to get up and get back to the job. If there’s deer about, there must be grazing close by, maybe even an easy way down. In the softening darkness, I made coffee and used some of the water to fix a can of porridge. I sat at the edge of my shelter and watched as morning gathered itself in the east to peep under the skirts of the night.
I’d stay up here for a while, I thought. Get a good look at the land below, see if I can spot any tell-tale smoke that might giveaway the position of a poacher’s shack. Or, I suppose, renewed pursuit from the tracking team. I knew they’d be back, if I could count on anything, it was that.
Chapter 19
Leaving the ward had been one of the most difficult things Marie had ever done. She had longed to push open William’s door and hug him close. Kiss away his hurt and pain. But fear of his reaction had held her back, she imagined a look of accusation, anger, rejection even revulsion. Her son had done this. Her own flesh and blood, how could William even look at her now. How could he?
The handwritten statement had been an inspiration and, perhaps years down the line, it would help to ease the pain of her splintered conscience. She’d felt upset to ignore the pleading of the young nurse, who was only trying to do her job, but Marie hoped that the young woman wouldn’t rush away to a telephone.
~ ~ ~
The lift seemed to take forever to arrive, my shoulder ached and my left arm was almost useless. When the painkiller wears off, it’s going to be hell, I thought.
But go, I must. Call it a woman’s intuition if you will, but after I’d heard what happened to William out on the hunting moor, I’ve a notion that I know who else was involved. I can’t believe he shot anyone, he wouldn’t do that. But I know someone out there who is violent enough to have got mixed up in it. He was always there to watch these ridiculous ceremonies. Often he’d brag of his closeness to them, of watching the near accidents with the shooters during the hunting. I was convinced that he had something to do with it, especially as someone had been hurt.
It’s good of Rachel to have sent my clean change of clothes for me, even my purse had been in the shopping bag. Dear girl she must be, and William will be very proud of her. If Jacques had only been half the person Rachel is, we’d not be in this mess.
Somehow, of course, it is all my fault. I should have done more to keep Jacques out of trouble. Done something to show him the hurt he was causing and the damage that he was doing to himself.
There’s a million excuses, I was having a tough time with his father, then later I was having to do everything myself, the house, the land and the tenanted farms. But I was alone and I hated it, hated who I had to be.
I was about to turn back for the stairs when the lift door slid open. ‘Ah, at last.’ I told no one. Stepped in and pressed the button for the Foyer.
The Hospital’s main entrance and waiting areas were completely empty. I’m not sure what I expected, but the chilly silence took me by surprise. The reception desk was empty too, but there was a small card that invited a visitor to press a button to call the duty person. All I wanted was a taxi, or a phone to call one myself. I dreaded the thought of going home, going into that place on my own. But I won’t go near the kitchen, I thought. I couldn’t do that.
On a pillar near the entrance doors was a free-phone that connected directly to an enterprising taxi firm. I picked it up and pressed the button. It must be something about tonight, everything seemed to take forever, the ring-tone went on and on. I was on the point of giving up when a sleepy voice answered. I asked for a woman driver, as I was on my own, but only got a disinterested “We’ll see.” sort of answer, so I didn’t hold out much hope.
The taxi took an age to arrive of course. While I waited, I found enough small change for a coffee from a vending machine, but my shoulder had begun to ache horribly and I just wanted to get home and lie down for a few hours.
‘Where to ma’am?’ came a cheerful voice from the door.
He’d been so quiet I’d not heard him arrive. He seemed a bit put out though when I asked him for his identification card, but having been through what I had, I wasn’t going to take chances. It was beginning to spot with rain and he wasn’t happy about going back out to the car for his badge. I guess that’ll cost
me another ten percent on the fare I thought, but what the heck. He was soon back, dangling his ID badge on its lanyard.
‘Be a good idea to hang it round your neck. Like you’re supposed to.’ I said rather snappily.
‘Yes ma’am.’ he grinned. ‘Where to ma’am?’
~ ~ ~
I shivered as I got out of the taxi, the rain was a steady drizzle and the air had a definite hint of the winter to come.
‘You ok ma’am?’ asked the driver. ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’
‘I’m fine thank you. Goodnight.’ I said as I paid him.
He drove off and the solid, wet blackness closed around me as his headlights swung away towards the road. At the door I found a yellow police security tape, telling me it was a crime scene and not to cross the barrier.
‘Well,’ I muttered. ‘Where would they like me to go?’
The chilly air and soft rain had an easing effect on my painful shoulder. My hand trembled as I fumbled in my purse for my keys and it was uncontrollably shaking when I tried to put the key into the lock. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate, every sinew stressed taught with an irrational fear. I had to stop, force my breathing to be steady and try again, If it hadn’t been for the porch, I’d have been soaked to the skin.
I stood in the hallway and, still trembling, turned on the light. There were footprints on the once shiny floor, they all led to and from the open kitchen door. I had to do it. I had to look, perhaps just close the door. The house was silent. My imagination went wild as I reached the door and I clutched at the door frame to help my weakening, reluctant legs support me.
The smell was not as bad as I expected, The strong odour of vinegar seemed to have cleansed or overpowered the expected butcher’s shop stink of blood. I remembered the jar of beetroot. I remembered seeing it falling, tumbling and then shattering, spraying the reddened vinegar over the floor. Stupidly, I had thought Madeleine will be mad at me when she sees the stain. But of course, she was already dead by then. My son. My son, Jacques had killed her. Before he stabbed me with the very same knife. Of course, I knew that it had happened but it hadn’t seemed real. Until now.
I could feel my knees beginning to fail me. There was a tingling sensation in the top of my head and my sight seemed to become hazily dark. I was going to faint. I could feel my hand sliding down the wall.
‘Breathe deeply. Breathe.’ I told myself. With an effort I pulled myself away from the shadowy sight and stumbled toward the stairs. Somehow, as if in a dream, I went up to my bedroom, closed and locked the door behind me. There was a bottle of painkillers in the bathroom, I shook out two, it might have been three, then gulped a glass of water to send them on their way. My night things were somewhere, I couldn’t think where, it looked as though someone had been through all my drawers. Police, I wondered. Or could it have been Jacques, searching for the money he seemed sure I’d hidden.
Despite what he’d done. What he’d become. My memories of him as a small boy, a child, flooded into my mind. I could see him on his tenth birthday sat on the floor of this very room opening a box almost as big as himself. I could see his beaming face lit with a huge grin as he found the train set that he’d been hinting at for months. Then, just a year later, he’d been packed off to boarding school. And that was the beginning of everything bad, I’m certain of it. He was never the same again.
I peeled off my rain-damp clothes and naked, climbed into bed and pulled the duvet around my body. Tears welled up and slid down my cheeks. I’d lost my little boy a long time ago, now I’d lost him again. And I’d lost the only thing in my life that I hadn’t wanted to change. I’d lost my William.
~ ~ ~
With all the troubles and sadness in my life at that moment, I should have had a restless night. But I slept soundly and, as far as I’m aware, quite dreamless. When I woke the following morning, I found that my mind had been busy while the rest of me had slept and I knew what I had to do next.
I would follow my dream, sell this lovely, but sad house. There’s no way that I could stay here a moment longer than I needed. I’d find a restaurant in a good area, perhaps with some accommodation and an apartment for me and do what I really wanted for myself. Be me.
And, I’d not avoid my William. I’m sure that our feelings for each other could climb over the obstacles of that horrid Sunday.
First though, I will set things in motion with selling this place and its tenanted farms, close or sell the hunting club and then I will ask William if he will help me find a business. Somewhere for both of us to settle in and somehow work together.
Pleased with my thoughts, I was on my way downstairs when I thought I could hear someone moving about. Yes, there it was again and the unmistakeable sound of running water. Quietly, carefully, I went towards the kitchen door and pushed it open. In the centre of the room, mop and bucket in his hand and looking quite startled, stood my gardener.
‘Thierry, what are you doing?’ I asked in complete surprise. ‘I thought the police were back.’
‘Well ma’am, thought you was in the Hospital still. It’s good to see you though.’ he mumbled. ‘I was coming by the old place to do a few chores in the yard when I saw that the door was wide open. I had to come in ma’am. Just to see where it happened. He looked down at the floor, the spot where Madeleine had fallen. ‘Then I thought how she’d be upset with all the mess, proper fussy my little wife could be. So I set about cleaning it up.’
‘Oh Thierry, I’m sure she’d be very proud of you.’
‘Well, to be truthful ma’am, I guess we weren’t very close. Not like you and your young man. But we were happy and as close as she could be with anybody.’ he sat on one of the stools and blew his nose noisily.
‘What will you do now?’ I asked.
‘Well, ma’am. I’ve been thinking about that this morning. And if it’s ok with you, I’d like to move on. Coming here every day will just stir the memories. More than I could cope with I think.’ he stared off into nowhere. ‘Thought that maybe I’d go stay with my brother for a bit. He’s in Canada you know.’
‘No...I didn’t know you had a brother in Canada. I suppose I should have done.’
‘No, no I didn’t mention him much. Madeleine didn’t like him. He made a pass at her once, before we were wed, and she’d never forgotten. But, we should let bygones be gone I think.’
‘I’d be really pleased if you could stay here for a little while Thierry. Just till I can find a buyer. I’m going to move on too. There are too many hateful and sad memories here now.’ I reached out for his hand. ‘I know how you feel, and you can say no, I’d understand. But if you’d be a sort of caretaker for a while I’m sure there’ll be a bonus for you...help out with your travels maybe.’
‘That’s right generous of you ma’am. And yes....I’ll do it for you. It’d probably be best to go across to Canada in the springtime any-road. Their winter’s can be right harsh say’s my brother. Even the sea can freeze, if you believe it.’
‘Oh good, I need someone I can trust. And I’m sure a Canadian spring will make a good new beginning.’ I hugged his shoulders. ‘We’ll start by closing up all the shutters. I’ll get a removals company to shift all the furniture and things into storage as soon as I can.’
‘Right you are ma’am. Madeleine would be right upset to see you go. But, don’t matter anymore does it? Bygones have to go and we’ve to move on.’
‘Yes Thierry, I believe you’re right. And it’ll be a good motto for us to have. I’ll bring the car round to the front and go pack a suitcase or two.’
‘I’ve a bit of cutting-back to do in the garden ma’am. But we’ll see to the shutters first.’ Thierry looked at me in that lop-sided way of his. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying ma’am, but, wouldn’t your shoulder feel a bit easier if you was to put it in a bit of a sling?’
‘You could be right. I’ll try it.’
Decision made and wheels in motion, I felt quite relieved. I’d got some he
lp and felt a lift in my spirits at the thought of....well, moving on, as Thierry would have it.
But first, I had another task, one that had become quite detestable. I had a box of medicine from the Army Medical Clinic to deliver. It’d be the last time. After this he’d just have to see to himself. Somehow.
~ ~ ~
Thierry was pruning some rose bushes in the back garden. I’d packed my bags with what I’d need for now and had left them in the hall.
‘I’m just going to pop into town, Thierry.’ I called across the terrace at the back of the house. ‘I’ve an appointment with an estate agent at four and while I’m there I’ll get you some money for house expenses...Oh and a set of keys, I’ll have that chap at the supermarket cut a couple of sets. I should be back by half-past five.’
‘That’ll be fine ma’am. But I might be gone home before you get back. Be getting dark by fiveish.’
‘No problem. I’ll put it all in an envelope and drop it off at your cottage.’ I looked across the fields, towards the rocky hills and the Forest. ‘Hope I’m finished before that storm breaks, it feels thundery and those clouds over there are as black as ink.’
‘You’ll be alright ma’am. They won’t cause any trouble ‘til after dark...you see if I’m not right.’ he stood up massaging his knees. ‘Oh and ma’am, don’t know if you noticed. But a crew of police come by a while back, lights all-a-flashing. I reckon they was heading towards your young man’s house.’
‘Oh, I think Monsieur Blake....er….William, will be in hospital for a few days yet Thierry.’
‘Ah...just like you eh...ma’am. I reckon you two is pretty evenly matched. If you don’t mind my saying so ma’am.’
‘Thank you Thierry, and I don’t mind. Not at all. In fact I’m hoping you’re right.’ I felt a little-girl blush come to my cheeks. ‘I’ll see you later then, either here or down at your place.’
‘Right you are ma’am. Drive careful.’ he said, then looked up into the sky. ‘Is that a helicopter over there. Looks like one of them police things.’ he said pointing.