The Dark Side of the Road

by Simon Green

  ‘So you’ve never met Jeeves before.’

  ‘No. Is that significant?’

  ‘Beats me,’ I said. ‘I’m still getting the feel for this place and this family.’

  ‘And how do you feel?’ said Penny. ‘About … us?’

  ‘I’m worried that the Colonel has disappeared so completely,’ I said. ‘Jeeves seems very certain he isn’t anywhere in the house.’

  ‘Then let’s go outside and look for him!’ Penny said brightly. ‘We can take a walk through the grounds, see if he’s hiding anywhere.’

  ‘In this weather?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, we’ll be fine!’ said Penny. ‘Long as we bundle up properly. Come on; it’ll be an adventure!’

  ‘I have had enough of those, in my time,’ I said.

  ‘I could always ask Roger,’ said Penny.

  I sighed, quietly. ‘I cannot allow you to inflict such a penance on yourself. All right; let us go for a stroll and brave the sub-zero temperatures together. Who knows; maybe we’ll bump into a penguin.’

  ‘You only get penguins in the Antarctic,’ Penny said crushingly. ‘Though I did hear something rather interesting about polar bears, on some documentary, just the other day. Apparently, when they’re sneaking up on someone, across the snowy wastes, the polar bear always raises one arm up across his face. Because his nose is jet black and would stand out against the white background!’

  ‘Something to bear in mind, while we’re out in the snow,’ I said solemnly. ‘Though actually, that’s not why they do it. Polar bears always raise one arm across their face because they’re pretending to be Batman. Great fans of Adam West, the polar bears.’

  Penny giggled, despite herself. ‘Oh, you! Come on, let’s get you properly attired for the great outdoors.’

  ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘But I reserve the right to head back to the house, at speed, if certain important parts of me start dropping off.’

  Penny led me all the way down the hall, to an intimidatingly large cupboard by the front door. Big enough to hold a political gathering in, while swinging a whole bunch of endangered species in an entirely uninhibited manner, and absolutely stuffed full of dozens of fur coats, along with a huge and varied selection of fur hats, gloves, and really heavy boots. No skis or snowshoes, but then, you can’t have everything.

  ‘Who do all these belong to?’ I said. ‘Can we really just take what we want?’

  ‘That’s what they’re for,’ Penny said patiently. ‘For Daddy’s guests; as required. You’ve never been to a country house before, have you? Try this one on. It looks your size.’

  ‘It looks like someone skinned a polar bear,’ I said. ‘And a big one, at that. Does Greenpeace know about this cupboard?’

  ‘This cupboard probably pre-dates Greenpeace,’ said Penny.

  I took off my jacket, hung it carefully on a nearby hanger, and tried on a few fur coats for size.

  Penny looked me over, with a considering eye. ‘Nice body …’

  ‘I can’t take any credit for it,’ I said. ‘It’s what I was given.’

  ‘At least you’ve looked after it,’ said Penny.

  ‘Clean living and a vegetable diet … are two things I’ve always avoided,’ I said solemnly. ‘Can’t help feeling there’s a connection.’

  It took a while, but we both finally found something we liked; and, half-buried under fur coats, hats, gloves and really heavy boots, we looked each other over critically. Penny took in the tentative way I’d set a Russian fur hat on my head and shook her own head, more in sorrow than anger. She took a firm hold on the hat with both hands and pulled it down hard, until it settled just above my eyes.

  ‘There,’ she said, stepping back. ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Shoot me now,’ I said. ‘Before anyone sees me.’

  ‘You look very stylish!’

  ‘I do not do the style thing.’

  ‘You do now; unless you want your brains to freeze inside your head. It’s cold out there!’

  ‘I had noticed.’

  We left the cupboard and approached the front door. Weighed down by our big furs, we didn’t so much walk, as waddle. I pulled the door open, and we stood together in the doorway, looking out on a pristine white world. The harsh cold hit my face like a slap. Penny squeaked loudly and shuddered, despite her many layers of clothing. I didn’t.

  A light fog had descended since I arrived, pearly grey mists hanging heavily on the air, cutting off the long view. But the snow had stopped falling, and the wind had quietened down. The outside scene was all peace and quiet, and eerily serene, as though the whole world was waiting for something to begin. I stepped carefully forward, and my heavy boots sank deep into the snow. Penny followed quickly after me, slamming the front door shut behind her.

  I took my time, looking around. Snow-covered lawns stretched away in every direction, entirely clean and unmarked, until they disappeared into the flat grey mists. White shapes of covered cars crouched in front of us, while indistinct buildings stretched away to either side of the Manor. Certain vague shapes further away might have been trees or hedges. Winter had laid her hand heavily across Belcourt land, as though trying to wipe out every mark Humanity had made on the landscape. The air was savagely cold, searing my lungs every time I took a breath. Penny huddled in beside me, making quiet noises of distress with every breath, looking around her with wide startled eyes, like a child taken to see Santa Claus’s grotto for the first time.

  And then she grinned at me, delighted with her winter wonderland, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

  ‘If you see a sleigh with reindeer, grab the presents and run,’ I said.

  ‘The elves would take you down before you managed ten paces,’ said Penny. ‘This way …’

  She led the way forward, stomping clumsily through the deep snow, and I strode easily along beside her, kicking the snow out of my way. The grey wall of fog receded before us, reluctantly revealing more and more of the snow-covered grounds. It was getting to be late in the afternoon, and an ominous twilight was descending. There wasn’t a sound anywhere, apart from the crisp crunching of our boots in the snow. Penny looked this way and that, sometimes grabbing on to my arm for support. I let her.

  ‘I grew up in these gardens,’ she said breathlessly, and just a bit giddily from all the effort. ‘I remember running wild in the gardens, as a small child. I used to make a real mess of the ceremonial flower beds, convinced I was helping. No one ever said anything. I was an indulged child, then. See those great shapes, there, just looming out of the fog? Topiary creatures, cut out of hedges. Looking at them now, buried under the snow, you’d never know what they were supposed to be. I can only tell because I recognize the locations. That one is a giant bunny; that is a lion and a unicorn; and that’s a giant cock. Well done; you didn’t go for the obvious comment.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ I said.

  And then I stopped abruptly and looked back at the Manor. I could still make the whole thing out, even through the mists. I stared at the house steadily, for a long moment.

  Penny looked at the house, and then at me. ‘What? What is it?’

  ‘I thought … I saw a light,’ I said. ‘Shining out of one of the windows on the top floor. Just for a moment. As though someone inside had opened the shutters, to look out.’

  Penny stared dubiously at the top floor. ‘There’s no one up there, Ishmael. All those rooms are locked up and sealed off.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But I’m sure I saw the same thing when I first arrived here. As though someone was taking a look at me. Taking a specific interest in me.’

  ‘You think someone in the house is watching you?’ said Penny.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I wonder why.’

  Penny sniffed loudly. ‘If you ask me, it’s probably Roger. Spying on us. Let’s give him something to look at!’

  She grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me hard. I stood very still. Her mouth was warm and kind on mine, and her body was a co
mfort and a promise. Penny stepped back, looked at me for a moment, and then turned and waved cheerfully at the manor house.

  ‘Get a good eyeful, Roger?’

  There was no light at any of the windows, not the slightest movement at any of the shutters.

  Penny turned back to me. ‘I don’t normally throw myself at people, Ishmael. It’s just … there’s something different about you.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There is.’

  ‘I have to say, I usually expect more reaction from a man when I stick my tongue half way down his throat.’

  ‘I hardly know you,’ I said steadily. ‘And I will be leaving here, once I’ve finished my business with the Colonel.’

  ‘So?’ said Penny. ‘Carp that diem, that’s what I always say. Don’t you like me?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ I said.

  She looked at me. I don’t think she was used to such plain speaking. ‘Is there … somebody else?’ she said, finally.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘There hasn’t been anyone else for a long time now. Love … is for other people.’

  ‘You know,’ said Penny, ‘for someone who’s only a few years older than me, you do talk like an old man, some-times.’

  ‘I get that a lot,’ I said. ‘As a wise man once said: it’s not the years, it’s the mileage. Now, tell me about the other buildings.’

  ‘You’re sure that’s what you want to talk about?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re a mystery, Ishmael Jones,’ said Penny.

  ‘I get that a lot too,’ I said.

  We walked on. Penny didn’t try to hold my arm any longer. She pointed out the terraced row of Victorian cottages, set out on one side of the manor house, and the medieval tithe barn on the other. Just great dark shapes now, looming out of the thickening fog. Again, no lights anywhere, and not a sound to be heard.

  ‘All the cottages are locked and boarded up for the winter,’ said Penny.

  ‘No signs of habitation,’ I said.

  ‘Daddy rents them out as guest cottages, from spring to autumn,’ said Penny. ‘The weather’s always too harsh, come winter.’

  ‘And the tithe barn?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, that goes way back. Fourteenth century, if I remember right. Certainly it was here long before the manor house. Just a big old barn, originally, for storing the village’s grain. And then, more recently, for storing heavy farm machinery. If you’re thinking James could be hiding out in there, forget it. No doors, you see; just two great openings, front and back. Open to the elements … He’d be frozen solid, if he was in there.’

  ‘Think I’ll take a look anyway,’ I said.

  Penny shrugged, making a good show of indifference. I led the way, slamming my boots through the thick snow. Penny had to struggle to keep up. Our boots sank in deep, making loud crunching noises, as though warning the barn we were on our way. The front opening turned out to be an arch ten feet high and almost as wide. Great drifts of snow had blown through, covering large areas of the heavily ridged stone floor. I had to climb up and over the main drift to get inside. Penny made hard going of it, so I reached back, grabbed one arm, and hauled her up and over. She let out a loud squeak of surprise at how strong I was, and hung on to me with both hands till she got her breath back. I let her. I knew it wasn’t fair to encourage her, but I’m not always as strong as I should be.

  Inside, the tithe barn was just a huge open space, deep and dark and gloomy, with long shafts of grim grey light falling through slit windows high up on the bare stone walls. Rough stone, thick and solid, rising up to a high-raftered wooden ceiling. Just a place to store things. The only way the Colonel could have survived any time in here would have been to build an igloo, and I didn’t see one anywhere. I looked carefully into the shadows, but nothing looked back. Great hulking shapes took up most of one end of the barn: ancient farm machinery, under drooping tarpaulins.

  ‘Ugly old place, isn’t it?’ said Penny. ‘Daddy would love to tear it all down and improve the view, but officially this is a listed building. Part of our great English architectural heritage. So we can’t touch it. Even if it is butt ugly and half as useful. Even though one good fire would do millions of pounds of improvement. Honestly, darling; just because a thing’s stood around for a few years doesn’t automatically make it a thing of beauty and a joy forever.’

  I went back to the front opening to stare out over the still and silent world. Cold and white and pearly grey. Penny came to stand beside me.

  ‘How very peaceful,’ she said, after a while. ‘Such a shame it won’t last.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘It won’t. I can feel the storm building, all around us. Piling on the pressure till it breaks; and then the wind will hit us like a battering ram, and the snow will come down like the wrath of God.’

  ‘You’re not the most cheerful person I’ve ever met,’ said Penny. She put her head right back, to stare up at the iron grey sky past the rim of her fur hat, and then she looked at me. ‘Can you really feel a storm coming?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s a gift. But we’ve still got some time. Tell me about your family, Penny. The Colonel’s family. He never told me anything about you.’

  ‘If you like,’ said Penny. ‘I don’t mind. If you’re hoping for dirt, I’m afraid there isn’t any. Or, at least, nothing interesting. The Belcourts have lived in the manor house for generations, though Daddy will probably be the last to live here. He’s going to have to sell off the Manor soon, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. I don’t think he’ll really care all that much. He’s only hanging on now out of a sense of family duty. Mummy’s the one who’s desperate to stay on. If it hadn’t been for her, Daddy would have sold up and moved on long ago. To somewhere cheaper, and warmer. Daddy could use the money to prop up his business. That’s why Alex is here.’

  ‘What about you?’ I said. ‘This is supposed to be your inheritance. How do you feel about selling Belcourt Manor?’

  ‘I can’t honestly say I’ve any real fondness for the old place,’ said Penny. She stood staring out into the mists, her hands thrust deep into her pockets, her eyes far away. ‘And I’d hate to have the expense of running all this. The Manor’s upper floors were abandoned when I was a kid. I used to go exploring up there, even though it was strictly forbidden. Well, probably because it was strictly forbidden. I was always a wilful child. I used to steal the keys and unlock rooms at random, just to see what was in there. Searching for treasure and enjoying jumping at shadows. Pulling open drawers and peeking under the dust-sheets, making a mess … Eventually Mummy got tired of that, and all the other wilful things I did; and when shouting at me didn’t work, I was sent away.

  ‘I spent the rest of my childhood at boarding school and my adolescence at a very proper finishing school in Grenoble, Switzerland. From which I gained a first-class education, a posh accent, and a deep and abiding hatred for all forms of authority. I only ever got to come home for the holidays. Like being sent down to Hell, and then allowed brief trips back to Heaven. Just so you could appreciate how bad Hell was.’

  She turned her head, to look at me. ‘You’re really very easy to talk to, Ishmael. You know that?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Was school really that bad?’

  ‘No … But it’s the principle that counts!’ She looked back at the snowy expanse. ‘I loved the grounds here, and the luxury of the house, but I would have loved anywhere that wasn’t school. With all its petty rules, and regulations … What were we talking about? Oh yes … The family. The Colonel’s family …’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Daddy mostly gives in to Mummy, to keep the peace. He divorced Diana because she started looking her age, and he wanted a beautiful wife at his side. He met Mummy at a sales conference, where she was tottering around on high heels, handing out gourmet nibbles from a tray, while wearing hardly anything at all. Really; I’ve seen the photos. It’s a wonder she didn’t catch a chill. Daddy took a shine to her and brought her home w
ith him. And just like that, Diana was on her way. Replaced by a newer model. With a good enough settlement that she wouldn’t fight it. She’s always invited back for Christmas, and she always turns up. Daddy seems happy enough to see her. Mummy, less so, though she’s always polite. Mummy is still very wary of Diana, even though she won Daddy away from her. Heavy lies the head that bears the tiara …

  ‘Mummy’s never felt secure here. You see, she married into wealth and position. Never had any of her own. That’s why she was so keen for me to go away to boarding school, and then finishing school. So I could have all the advantages Mummy never had. No one ever asked me what I wanted. I think I would rather have had a mother. And a father.’ She paused there, as though waiting for a comment. But I didn’t have one.

  ‘What about the guests?’ I said, finally.

  ‘Roger is a bore,’ Penny said flatly. ‘Don’t know what I ever saw in him. I think perhaps … He was just my way out of the family. Cut my links, once and for all, by marrying someone I knew they couldn’t stand. If I had any conscience I’d do something absolutely beastly to the poor boy, so he’d go away and not want me any more. But it’s so hard to be rotten to him. Like kicking a puppy.

  ‘Alexander Khan … gets on my nerves, big time. Always has … on all the occasions he’s invited himself here to discuss business with Daddy. Which usually seems to consist of shouting sessions in private. Alex has always cared more about the business than Daddy has. He only ever turns up here when he wants more money for this great new scheme or that. I don’t like the way he looks at me or Mummy. I keep my distance. He’s been hovering around Roger all this weekend. Don’t ask me why.

  ‘And then, there’s dear little Sylvia. Seems a decent enough sort. Diana collects good-looking companions to remind herself of what she used to look like before her face wrinkled up into a road map. She says having bright young things around her helps her feel young again. I say she leeches off their youth and energy … Sylvia’s just the latest in a long line, and she won’t be the last, even if Sylvia hasn’t realized that yet. She’s more fun than some I’ve known, from previous Christmas gatherings. And fun’s always in short supply, this time of year.’