by Claire Peate
“Good. Well, you stay in the vehicle. Don’t get out. Not even if you hear us shouting.”
“Fine,” I said, smiling with pursed lips. Suddenly I wanted my contact centre headgear and Catwoman outfit. Then I’d feel more the part.
“Is there anything you want to ask before we go?”
“Erm.” I thought hard. Nothing. My mind was blank. “No?”
“Right then, come on Tomos, let’s get this cat into the trailer.” And with that the two farmers silently got out of the vehicle, pushing the doors gently closed and disappeared round the farmhouse and towards the barn.
The address! That’s what I needed to ask them. How would I direct the emergency services to the scene of mutilation if I didn’t know where we were? Did we turn right or left out of the Crossed Keys? Maybe while they were still in sight I should get out and go to Tomos’ house to get the address, he’d be bound to have some post somewhere. Then I could work out where we were to send the paramedics.
I went to open the door and then thought better of it. Can’t they do satellite tracking of mobiles these days? They’d know where I was. Surely? But then do satellites pass over Wales? They must do.
I checked my mobile again. No signal! How? I hadn’t moved. I had one small job to do and I’d not been at all prepared for it.
I checked my mobile again – one bar of signal! Someone at Vodafone was having a laugh at my expense.
I sat back in my seat. How long would it take to catch a puma? Days and days if the police marksmen were anything to go by. How long were Gwyn and Tomos going to give it before they gave up? It was nearly midnight. Midnight! How had it got so late? But then, now I started thinking about it, it did seem a long time since I had been sitting on the sofa with Joe the policeman and learning all about pumas. In fact, it seemed more like days than just hours ago. Five hours ago I was taking the rollers out of my hair, for goodness sake. Five hours ago I had no idea I was going to come face-to-furry-face with the puma, find out the secret of the sightings and go big game hunting in the Beacons. I just imagined I was going to get off my trolley on cheap wine and have a bit of a dance. Funny how things turn out.
Had anyone from the party even noticed I was missing yet? Was anyone concerned? Perhaps they just thought I’d gone to bed early. Perhaps my Dull Life Crisis aura was enough to convince them I’d just left to get a good night’s sleep. I wonder how the party was going? Had Henna worked her charms on the policeman? Maybe I should give them a call, tell them I was OK. Would they even hear the phone though?
I checked my phone again. The single bar of signal had gone again now and the display was void of any network. Shit. Why should signal suddenly disappear like that?
I put it back on the dash.
Remembering what Tomos had said about no sudden movements I stealthily wound the seat back to make myself more comfortable. After all, I might be here a long time.
I looked out. Nothing.
I hadn’t even seen Tomos leave the barn and go into the woodland. Was he still with Gwyn, setting up the trailer?
Quarter past twelve.
He must have gone into the woods by now. Surely? Perhaps there was a route into the woodland via the barn that I couldn’t see.
“Ouch!” I’d moved my leg onto the rough seam of the seat. I shuffled across and examined the rip in the moonlight. It must have been made a long time ago as I could see in the dim light that there had been at least three attempts at patching it with tape. Not a vehicle for women; perhaps the rough one from Merthyr had said the very same thing to him. Had tried to get him to buy a white BMW to take her round the shops? I had to concede that however knackered and unbelievably filthy the Land Rover was, it was such a very suitable vehicle for here and I couldn’t imagine it down in the city, crawling along the main roads in nose to tail traffic jams. Up here, covered in mud and dented and scratched, it didn’t look out of place but if it was parked outside the offices where I worked it would instantly be towed away for looking like an abandoned vehicle. The only off-roaders I ever saw were the ones with leather seats and tinted windows.
It was getting cold. I looked around and saw an old blanket on the back seat. Slowly I reached back to get it, but shrank away when I caught a whiff of it. It was absolutely disgusting. I left it where it was and rubbed my arms instead, trying to restore some heat. What time was it now? Twenty-five past twelve. Still no sign of the puma.
The rug really stank. How come I hadn’t noticed it before? What on earth had Gwyn kept wrapped up in it? Did he keep his torn-in-two sheep in it? Had he never heard of washing powder? All my womanly instincts, which up to now had been entirely non-existent, were overflowing. The man had no food in the place, was disorganised and lived in a sparsely furnished, although quite homely, house. How long had it been since the scraggy Merthyr girl?
And just what did scraggy mean, anyway?
I stared out of the windows, gazing into the blackness around me. Something scurried across the yard and my heart leapt but it must have been a mouse. I could understand now why Joe the policeman had shot a squirrel by mistake – once you’re wound up and expecting to see a puma, that’s all you will see.
An owl started its spooky hooting from the woodland right beside me.
Then some birds near the house started squawking. I sat up, stiffened in anticipation. Had the puma disturbed them? Or Tomos?
I angled my wrist to check my watch in the moonlight.
One o’clock.
I was really cold now, and there was no way I could warm myself up. Holding my arms wasn’t working, nor was drawing myself up in the seat – it just made my back ache.
Gwyn had left the keys in the ignition and I was sorely tempted to turn the heating on. It wouldn’t make much of a noise to have the engine running for a little while, would it? But then maybe it would. And it would be pretty bad to jeopardise the whole evening by starting the engine up. The farmers would more than likely be very cross with me.
So there wasn’t much I could do, bar going indoors or putting that stinky blanket around my shoulders.
I looked back at it on the back seat. It looked very thick and warm. Tentatively I reached out and bought it to me.
URGH!
It really did smell very, very bad indeed. Now that it was near my I knew there was no way I was prepared to cover myself in that smell. It would never come off my clothes. Or my skin.
Throwing the rug onto the driver’s seat, I huddled back and put my arms around my waist, resolutely staring forward into the night.
At half past one I put the blanket round me. It was warm.
At thirty-five minutes past one I stopped feeling nauseous from the smell of the blanket.
The moon had moved over to the mountains in the distance and a different set of shadows were cast onto the moonlit yard. The trees looked as though they were actually creeping slowly towards me, the black branches scratching long shadows reaching for the Land Rover. There was now less visible distance between the black gloom of the woods and me. Even less chance to see anything.
Oh my God.
She was watching me.
Even wrapped in my blanket safe inside Gwyn’s Land Rover, I thought my heart was going to give way it was banging so violently in my chest. The puma was standing a metre away looking in at me.
I didn’t move.
Crap. Was my presence going to jeopardise the whole thing? Where was Tomos? WHERE WAS TOMOS?
I turned my head slowly to look into the woodland while keeping the cat firmly in view. I couldn’t see anything. No sign of the farmer. Maybe Gwyn could see what I could see – maybe he was going to come round and entice it in to the trailer?
I turned back slowly to the animal, standing right in front of me and looking right at me. She was a beautiful thing. Lit by moonlight, her coat was wonderfully soft-looking, with a white nose and chest. She had a way of looking very calm and her eyes were almost docile.
I looked at her mouth. I couldn’t see any
blood. It was a good sign; hopefully Tomos wasn’t lying bleeding anywhere clasping the back of his neck, taking his last shaky Welsh breaths. I stayed absolutely still, hardly breathing, clutching my stinky blanket closely around me.
Then, from beside the puma, I saw Tomos emerging from the black woodland into the moonlight, so slowly, hands held out at his sides. It barely looked as if he were moving.
He was saying something to the puma, which turned to him now and watched with such a casual, disinterested expression it was hard to imagine there was any real danger involved. But I’d seen those wildlife programmes where a perfectly docile-looking lion yawns, stretches and then rips apart a bouncy gazelle without batting an eyelid.
Tomos, still holding out his hands beside him, spoke to the cat again. It began to move gradually towards him and the pair inched towards the barn. It was working!
I stayed frozen still, scared stiff in case I ruined the whole thing.
They disappeared from view.
Sinking back into the seat I took a few deep breaths. Tomos had been right, the cat must be really tame, judging by the way she followed Tomos’ directions. Poor thing – to think of all those men with guns hunting her down. We were definitely doing the right thing.
I think.
I threw the stinky blanket back on the seat behind me. I’d generated enough heat to last until daybreak.
I kept my eyes fixed on the corner of the farmhouse where I’d last seen Tomos and the puma disappear. No one emerged. I stared and stared until I knew the shape of each cornerstone of the house perfectly, but still neither Gwyn nor Tomos appeared from behind them. I checked my watch. It was now ten minutes since Tomos had walked round the corner with the cat. I gingerly reached out and took my phone. No signal. Damn. Replacing it, I paused, still leaning forward. Had I just heard something? The faintest of clicks? I couldn’t be sure.
“All right there?”
“Fuck!” My hand flew up my chest. Gwyn was right outside my window. How had I not seen him walking towards me? Tomos was coming up to the Land Rover and within a moment they’d both climbed in.
“Bit jittery?” Gwyn grinned and flicked on a light.
“Bad language never did any lady any credit,” came the quiet reproach from the back.
“You scared me!” I defended myself. “So how would a lady deal with being terrified?”
Tomos thought for a moment. “She’d come over all faint, I reckon.”
“Anyway…” I decided we should move on. “Well?”
“She’s in the trailer having her steak.” Gwyn smiled and then yawned.
I clapped my hands together in excitement.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to make you guys jump. That’s amazing though!” I turned to Tomos. “She just walked alongside you like a dog! She must really trust you.”
“Yes. Yes she does.” The old man nodded, lips pursed tight and head bowed. He took a deep breath in and clapping Gwyn on the shoulder said, “You two ought to be getting back. I’ll keep her in the trailer tonight – she’ll be safe there. She’s got food and water, and Gwyn put straw in for her to sleep on so she’s got it good. Come back tomorrow and we’ll take her away.”
And with that the old farmer shook Gwyn’s hand and muttered a few words to him before getting out of the Land Rover and heading indoors.
I buckled my seat belt.
It was over!
The cat was captured and we were safe. I yawned. Gwyn wearily started up the vehicle and we left Tomos’ farm and headed up the road again. I turned to wave at Tomos, who was standing in his doorway, watching us go.
“Are you sure he’ll not let it out into the wild tonight?” I asked as we turned a corner and he disappeared from view.
Gwyn yawned again and rubbed his tired eyes – no mean feat when you’re trying to manoeuvre a four-wheel drive up a potholed twisty road at two in the morning. I gripped the dash.
“Absolutely sure,” he said. “I think Tomos is rather attached to that animal, and if it stays out in the wild here it’s bound to get caught. He’s a sensible man, is Tomos, when it comes down to it, and he knows he’s doing the right thing by letting her go.”
“Poor Tomos,” I sighed, my thoughts filled with the image of the old man waving us off from his front step. “First he lets Angharad go, and now he has to let his beloved puma go. It’s just not fair, is it?”
Gwyn looked over at me, the Land Rover juddering into a pothole. “Who said things are fair?”
“I know that. It’s just … well, he deserves a break doesn’t he?”
“Rachel, Tomos hasn’t suffered too badly.”
He said my name! “Yes but…”
“He still sees Angharad you know.”
“Yes at the pub but…”
“No. He sees her.”
I looked straight at him but his eyes were fixed to the road. Surely not? Surely not in the sense of “seeing” someone?
“Do you mean –?”
“Yes,” Gwyn laughed, wrenching the wheel to avoid us plummeting into a steep wooded ravine.
“Oh good God,” I laughed, despite the terror of the drive.
“And not just Angharad either. There’s Gwenda: she works over at the post office. He’s been seeing her off and on for years now.”
“No way!”
“And another woman over at the market but we haven’t worked out her name yet.”
“Now you’re joking! You must be.”
“Not a word of a lie, Rachel. The lads round here call him Casanova Bach; it means ‘little Casanova’ in Welsh. Right old dark horse, he is. He’d be after you if you were up here any longer.”
“I wish I was.”
“What, with Tomos?”
“No! Gwyn that’s just – just wrong! I mean, I wish I was staying longer.”
The words hung in the air and there was nothing more to say. We bounced round a rough corner and I settled back into the seat and let Gwyn concentrate on the difficult drive. I surreptitiously looked at him as he drove me back to the Hen House. His hair was ruffled and pulled, and his shoulders were slightly hunched with tiredness and concentration on the road ahead. He still looked devilishly handsome. Should I invite him in for a drink? Surely at 2 am some of the girls would still be around? It would be a pretty poor party if it had finished by now.
28
As we neared the Hen House I began to realise just how tired I was. Wound up and nervous in the Land Rover waiting for the puma to appear, I hadn’t given much thought to dozing off, but now that I was safe, the heating was on and the Land Rover was rocking backwards and forwards on the bumpy track, I realised I was actually completely exhausted.
Still, I must have used up a lot of calories with all that muscle clenching, heart pounding anxiety. Maybe putting myself in terrifying situations was yet another solution to a newer, slimmer me. What with that and the lusting, I would soon be one of those size zero women and I could sit next to Marcia and make her look like a hot air balloon in comparison to my newly trim frame.
We pulled up at the house.
“Looks like that party’s still in full swing,” Gwyn said without much enthusiasm. And really, I couldn’t blame him. The wine and policemen had definitely lost their appeal and there hadn’t been much more to the party than that. What was more appealing was the thought of my newly acquired king-sized bed in my newly acquired king-sized bedroom. Sleep…
The lights were all on, and as we watched the front door was pulled open and a figure lurched outside, hanging on to the doorframe for support.
“That’s odd,” I began, yawning and peering out into the night, trying to make out who had just left the house. Being so tired was like being drunk; things blurred and distorted and nothing made much sense any more.
“What?” Gwyn asked.
“I don’t recognise him.”
“Who?”
“That person.” I pointed in the direction of the man that had gone outside and was now throwing up viole
ntly, leaning for support against Laura’s car.
Something was definitely not right.
“Eurgh!” Even though it was truly appalling, I just couldn’t take my eyes off the vomiting man. Now he had partially turned to Laura’s car and was covering that. God, she was going to go ballistic.
“Who is it, then?”
“I have no idea.” I watched the man sink lower and lower. His knees buckled and in one movement his hand slipped off the puke-covered bonnet and he fell face down into the pile of vomit on the ground. Silence again.
“Isn’t it one of the policemen or that big game hunter chap?”
“Josh? No, I don’t think so. The men who arrived when I was at the party were all pretty stocky chaps, but Mr Vomit here is really skinny. Urgh!” I held my head in my hands and groaned. Why was this happening? I hadn’t realised that coming back to a party still in full swing would mean no sleep – and sleep was now my number one priority.
“Do you want me to come in and see if everything is OK?”
“Would you mind? I’m really sorry but...” It was probably nothing. One of the policemen had probably invited their mate or something. We walked past the man that had collapsed onto the ground. Gwyn bent down and put his hand on the man’s neck.
“He’s still alive,” he laughed but I didn’t find it very funny. Maybe because I’d come face to face with the puma that evening and death seemed a whole lot closer than it had done in my previous thirty years. Or maybe it took a lot more to shock me now that I knew Tomos was the local stud.
Inside the Hen House the smell was the first thing that hit me, which was surprising because after Gwyn’s manky blanket I thought my ability to smell anything would be disabled for the next couple of months at least.
The haze of fags and weed in the air was inescapable. And worrying. Because when Laura had run through the house’s Health and Safety regulations when we’d first arrived, there were pretty strict rules about not smoking in or around the premises. We’d never get rid of the smell by the time we were due to leave the place tomorrow. Today! I kept forgetting it was the early hours of the morning. If we had to leave the house by 10 am we had less than eight hours left.