by Rachel Ward
Bea, Jay and Eddie looked at each other stonily.
‘Come on, Bea,’ said Jay. ‘Come over here.’ He drew her away from Eddie and they walked towards the cluster of people gathered round Tank. Ant was one of them. He was still crouching next to him. The other ambulance worker was there now. Bea leaned down and put her hand on Ant’s shoulder. He glanced round. His face was pasty, etched with concern.
‘Ant,’ said Bea. ‘Give them a bit of space.’ She helped him up and they walked towards the door.
‘He had a pulse and he was breathing, but he was out cold,’ said Ant.
‘You did everything you could. It’s their job now.’
‘Did one of you ring them?’
‘Yeah. I did.’
Ant shook his head. ‘It was crazy. He wouldn’t let me ring. He’s still got my phone. Here—’ He went over to Eddie. ‘Give me my fucking phone back.’
Eddie fished it out of his pocket and threw it towards Ant.
‘He needed an ambulance.’ said Ant.
Eddie shrugged. ‘He’ll be fine.’
‘You don’t know that.’ Ant was getting agitated again, ready to boil over.
‘Leave it, Ant. Leave him. Get some fresh air,’ said Bea.
‘Yeah, okay. I can’t stand the smell in here anyway,’ said Ant.
The chaos in the lane was subsiding. There were only a couple of cars left parked up, and the ambulance and police car had made it into the yard. They watched as Tank was loaded onto a stretcher and transferred to the ambulance. The doors were closed and the vehicle started making its way out of the yard and down the lane.
‘There was another phone, wasn’t there?’ said Jay. He darted across the yard and Bea could see the beam of his light playing on the hedge at one side of the lane.
‘Ken,’ said Ant. ‘I need to go and find him.’
‘What are you going to do to him?’ said Bea.
‘I want him to tell me how he got mixed up in all this. I want him to tell me the truth.’
‘You said you’d give him a pasting.’
Ant looked suddenly very sad. ‘I said it, but I never meant it. Even less now . . .’ His voice trailed off, and Bea realised he was close to tears.
‘Ant, you did your best. I was so bloody proud of you going in there like that. You didn’t think about your own safety.’
He clamped his lips together, struggling with his emotions.
‘I’ll second that. And you were right to make that call, Bea.’ They looked around. Shaz had come up behind them. ‘He’s not in a good way at all.’
‘What’s going to happen now?’ said Bea.
‘We’ll need to take statements from you, but I’m not sure there’s been an offence committed here.’
‘You’re kidding?’ said Ant. ‘There were two blokes trying to kill each other, and a load of other blokes cheering them on. You can’t tell me that’s legal.’
‘Well, the participants were all willing and the organiser’s claiming it’s covered by the Dangerous Exhibitions Act. We might be able to treat it as a public order matter, though. That’s why we need your statements, and any photos you took.’
‘Shaz, there has been an offence. That man, Eddie, he’s the one who kidnapped my dog. He admitted it to us just now.’
Shaz sighed, perhaps anticipating a long night of form filling ahead of her. ‘We’d better go to the station, hadn’t we?’
‘Can you make him open up the other buildings, please?’
Shaz raised her eyebrows.
Bea lowered her voice. ‘Shaz, this is where we found the white cat. It was inside the long, low building over there. It could be where they’re holding Goldie.’
Shaz held her hand up. ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. One thing at a time, Bea. I don’t think my notebook’s big enough for all this. Let’s pack up here, go to the station and put the kettle on.’
‘At least let us search the buildings,’ Bea pleaded. ‘I need to find my dog. I think they’re going to kill her.’
‘Bea, why would anyone kill your dog?’ said Tom.
‘They threatened to kill her to keep me quiet, but now that we’re here and I called the police and everyone saw me . . .he said I’d never see her again.’
‘Who did?’
Bea tipped her head towards Barbour Jacket Man.
‘Eddie?’ said Tom. ‘Doubt it. He looks after dogs, Bea. That’s his job. He’s one of the hunt workers.’
‘He just said it. Jay heard him too.’ Jay nodded vigorously. ‘And I’ve got a text. Let me show you.’
Bea scrolled through her messages until she found it. Tom and Shaz looked at her phone.
‘Same number as the one you sent me before. This is from Eddie, is it? I thought it was from Dean?’
‘I don’t know who it’s from, but he knows about it. Trust me, Tom, he knows.’ She looked at Tom, who returned her gaze steadily, then walked over to Eddie.
After a short exchange, Eddie got out a big bunch of keys and unlocked a padlock at the door. He flicked the light switch on, and he and Tom disappeared inside.
‘Can I look?’ said Bea.
‘Don’t push it, Bea,’ said Shaz. ‘Tom’s there.’
After a few minutes, the two men emerged from the building and Eddie secured the padlock. They met the others in the middle of the yard.
‘Nothing there,’ said Tom.
‘Am I all right to lock the barn up now?’ said Eddie.
‘Yes, sure. Do you want to do your statement now or in the morning?’
‘Aren’t you going to arrest him?’ said Bea.
Eddie flung his arms out wide. ‘What for? I’ve done nothing wrong. You assaulted me. I’m the injured party, and that’ll be in my statement.’
‘You’ve got my dog!’ Bea shouted. She lunged towards him, and Ant and Jay restrained her.
‘Okay, okay, let’s keep it calm,’ said Tom. ‘Eddie, have you got Bea’s dog?’
‘No.’
‘Liar! You told me—’
‘Bea, shush. Eddie, you lock up here and get off home. Can you call into the station tomorrow morning? Eleven?’ Eddie gave him the thumbs up. ‘The rest of you, have you got a vehicle here? No? Let’s get you back, then. We can take statements now, or we can drop you back home.’
‘Can we do it tomorrow?’ said Ant. ‘I need to get home.’
‘I’ve got to find Goldie,’ said Bea. ‘But if she’s not here, I honestly don’t know where to look.’
‘Come home with me. Let’s have a beer,’ said Ant. ‘Jay? You up for it?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’
‘Right,’ said Tom. ‘Get in the back, then.’
They piled into the back of the squad car, with Bea squashed in the middle between Ant and Jay. Ant had retreated inside himself. He gazed out of the side window, away from Bea. As they bumped down the track, Bea was overcome by a wave of exhaustion. Through the gap between the seats, she watched the tail lights of Eddie’s Land Rover, bucking and lurching as it hit the potholes in the lane.
‘We could do him for that missing brake light,’ said Shaz.
‘That’s the least of our troubles, Shaz. It’s gonna take bloody days to sort this lot out,’ said Tom. Bea shut her eyes. She must have drifted off, because when she opened them again, her head was leaning on Jay’s shoulder and there was a little stream of dribble seeping out of the corner of her mouth. She sat up. There wasn’t enough room to dig into her pocket for a tissue so she surreptitiously wiped the drool away on her hand and wiped that in turn on her trouser leg.
They were back in the sulphur yellow streets of Kingsleigh’s estates and it wasn’t long before they drew up outside Ant’s house. Ant, Bea and Jay bundled wearily out of the car.
‘Check in with us at two tomorrow afternoon, yeah?’ said Tom, out of his wound-down window.
‘Okay.’
The car pulled away and the three of them trooped towards Ant’s front door.
‘Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,’
said Ant. The house was in darkness, the curtains open. ‘I wonder where the little fucker’s got to?’
He unlocked the door which opened directly into the living room and flicked on the light. Bea and Jay followed him in.
‘Stevo usually keeps a secret stash of cans in his room. Hang on.’ Ant trotted upstairs.
‘I think I fancy a cuppa anyway,’ said Bea, going through to the kitchen and filling up the kettle. She was just looking for clean mugs among the rather unsavoury debris that littered every surface, when she heard a yelp. She and Jay looked at each other.
‘You all right?’ Bea called out.
There was no answer, so she and Jay headed towards the stairs.
Ant and a rather crumpled-looking Ken were standing at the top.
‘Found him,’ said Ant.
‘Did you wake him up?’ said Bea.
‘No, he was huddled in a corner on the floor, sitting in the dark.’
‘Turn the lights out,’ said Ken, his voice a low whine. ‘They’ll know we’re here.’
‘I’m not turning the lights out. Of course, I’m bloody here. I live here,’ said Ant. ‘Get downstairs.’ He bumped Ken’s shoulder with his.
‘Careful, Ant,’ said Bea. ‘Ken, do you want a cuppa?’
‘I’d rather have a beer,’ he said, eyeing the four-pack in his brother’s hand.
‘You’re not having a sodding beer. You’re fifteen,’ said Ant. ‘Get down those stairs.’
They gathered in the front room.
‘At least close the curtains, can’t you?’ said Ken. He was huddled at one end of the sofa. He’d pulled his sleeves right down over his hands and was hugging himself. Bea realised that he was very, very scared.
She drew the curtains and went and sat next to him. ‘There we go,’ she said. ‘No one can see in now. Who are you scared of?’
‘I heard all the sirens. I didn’t warn them, did I? They’re going to crucify me.’
‘They’ve got other things to think about.’
He shook his head. His bottom lip was trembling. ‘No. You don’t know them. They won’t forget.’
‘Well, we’re here anyway now. No one’s going to hurt you.’
‘He might,’ Ken said, looking at Ant, who was handing out the beers.
Ant’s shoulders seemed to sag. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just . . .I just . . .I don’t know what’s going on with you.’
Bea got up and fetched two mugs of tea, one for her and one for Ken.
‘Did you put sugar in?’ he asked.
‘Two and one for luck,’ she said, with a wink, and was pleased to get half a smile in return. ‘Why don’t you tell us what’s been going on?’
‘I can’t.’
‘I think we know most of it anyway. But we need to know the rest. This is serious stuff, Ken. Tank’s in hospital.’
‘Is he? What’s wrong?’
‘Beaten unconscious.’
Ken’s lip wobbled even more, and his eyes went pink as tears seeped out. He dashed his arm across to wipe them away. ‘My mates don’t want to know me,’ he said. ‘After what Dad did, they just said I can’t hang out with them any more.’
‘They’re not really mates, then,’ said Bea.
‘Yeah, but who else have I got? School’s fucking miserable enough. There’s no point if everyone hates you as well.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ said Ant. He was sitting on the floor opposite Ken, with his back against an armchair and his can on the floor next to him.
‘I dunno. We don’t exactly get on, do we? I didn’t think . . .I dunno . . .’
Ant lit a cigarette and blew a long trail of smoke up towards the ceiling.
‘Can I have one?’ said Ken.
‘No! Listen, mate, I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me. Tell me now. I’m listening.’
‘All right, if you give a smoke.’
‘No, you’re not having a fucking cigarette.’
‘Just a drag, then.’
‘Ant . . .’ Bea said, as Ant handed the cigarette over to Ken.
Ken took it and inhaled. Bea was expecting a coughing fit, but Ken dealt with it like a pro. He took another cheeky drag before handing it back to Ant.
‘So, I had no mates and I stopped going to school. I knew Dean from round and about and I just kind of fell in with him.’
Ant groaned. ‘Dean. It all comes back to him.’
‘Shh,’ said Bea. ‘Let him talk.’
‘Tank was training up for the fight and Dean was sort of his manager. They used to go out to the farm to train. There was a punchbag and weights and stuff there, and some old tyres. Dean made Tank run round the yard dragging tyres behind him. It was a laugh, but the fight was serious. Tank was being paid big money to fight.’
‘How much?’ Jay asked.
‘Six hundred quid. He was giving Dean two hundred.’
Ant whistled. ‘Six hundred quid!’
‘I know. And Dean talked to the organiser, a bloke called Eddie, and he fixed it that I’d be lookout and get fifty quid.’
‘Nice,’ said Ant.
‘Yeah, but I’ve messed up, haven’t I? I’ve screwed it up for them, they’re going to come after me.’
‘I don’t think so, Ken,’ said Bea. ‘They’ve got bigger things to worry about. Tank’s in a bad way.’
‘Is he going to be all right?’
‘No one knows yet. Anyway, we won’t let anyone get at you, okay?’
Ken looked unconvinced.
‘Is that everything? Have you told us everything?’
‘Yeah. Sort of.’ Ant glared at him. ‘Eddie was giving Tank stuff, drugs, to help him get stronger. He had something before the fight, too, to pep him up.’
‘The stuff I saw him get from Simon,’ said Bea. ‘Stuff meant for animals.’
‘Is that who you got the ketamine from?’ said Ant. ‘That bloke Eddie?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ken. ‘But don’t tell anyone, okay? He’ll kill me if anyone tells. He doesn’t look like much, but he’s a scary guy. And don’t tell Mum.’ He was looking back at Ant now, pleading.
‘Don’t tell her what – the sagging off school? The smoking? The drugs?’
‘Any of it.’
‘She already knows about school,’ said Ant, ‘’cos they rang her up.’
‘The rest, then.’
‘I’ve gotta tell her, Ken.’
‘If you promise not to, I’ll tell you where the dog is.’
Bea sat up now, spilling her tea. She clutched Ken’s arm. ‘Do you know? Really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Where? Tell me!’ Bea was almost squeaking now. The butterflies in her stomach were beating their little wings so hard it almost hurt.
‘If he promises not to tell Mum.’
Bea gave Ant one of her most ferocious stares.
He visibly quailed. ‘All right, all right.’
‘And you’ve got to promise not to tell the cops, about the dog.’
‘I’ve already told them she’s missing,’ said Bea.
‘So, just say she turned up. Please. Keep me out of it.’
‘Yes. Yes. All right. Just tell me.’
‘And you’ll give me a cigarette, and one of those cans,’ he said to Ant.
‘You’re just pushing it now, you little—’
‘Please, Ken,’ Bea urged. ‘If you really know, please tell me where she is. I’ve been going out of my mind.’ She was gripping his arm quite strongly now, and he moved to shrug her off.
‘She’s right here,’ said Ken.
‘What?’
‘She’s in the garage.’
40
They tore out of the house and round to the row of garages behind. Bea had been here before and knew it was where the Thompson family kept an unlikely number of bicycles. Her heart was in her throat as she raced behind Ant.
Ant undid the padlock and heaved at the heavy metal door. He pulled it up and over. The fug that hit them confirmed that an ani
mal of some sort was in there. Bea’s eyes were still adjusting to the relative darkness, the only lighting spilling from nearby houses. But there – yes! – was a pale shape at the front of the garage and – yes! – the familiar thump, thump sound of a tail wagging against the floor.
‘Goldie?’ she said, and the shape changed, as Goldie lumbered to her feet and padded towards her. Bea met her halfway, kneeling on the concrete and hugging the dog tightly, burying her face in the top of her head. A sob exploded out of her, the dam of the last twenty-four hours’ anxiety finally bursting.
‘Is she all right?’ said Ant.
Bea peeled herself away and Goldie took the opportunity to lick the side of her face all the way up from jawline to forehead.
‘Yeah, she’s fine.’
*
‘That’s it, then,’ said Jay. He was walking Bea and Goldie home. Ken hadn’t wanted to be left alone, so Ant had stayed with him. ‘All over. Goldie’s back. Case closed.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t feel like it is over,’ said Bea. ‘We’ll have to be careful what we say at the cop shop, so we don’t drop Ken in it.’
‘I don’t know if we can keep him out of it, but we can try.’
They walked through the familiar streets. Little groups of people were straggling home from the pub. Bea found it difficult to believe that for them this was just a normal Saturday night. She felt she’d been put through the wringer.
‘I still feel hepped up,’ said Jay. ‘Wish this town didn’t close down at half past ten.’
‘Ah, that’s one of Kingsleigh’s charms,’ said Bea. ‘No nightlife after closing time, dead on Sundays and even half-day closing on Wednesdays for the old-school shops.’
‘Half-day closing? Is that a thing?’
‘It is in Kingsleigh.’
It didn’t take long to get back to Bea’s road.
‘Bea—’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No, go on. What?’
‘It’s just that, when it was all going crazy at the farm, and people were running everywhere, and it looked like Tank was dead . . .’