Moses padded to the window and jumped up. He placed his front paws on the sill, and barked twice.
Outside, Sebastien climbed out of the Land Rover. He put his hands to his mouth and shouted Hannah’s name.
She joined the dog at the window and opened it. ‘Seb?’
‘I heard shooting. Anyone hurt?’
Hannah glanced down at Nate, at the glistening pool of blood in his lap. ‘No one was shot.’
‘He was here?’
Hannah nodded.
‘I’m coming in.’
‘Front door.’ Moving from the window, she handed the shotgun to Nate.
‘Mummy, what are you doing?’
‘It’s Sebastien, sweetheart. I’m going to let him in.’
‘What if it isn’t? What if it’s the Bad Man?’
‘I don’t think it is. Moses wouldn’t ride in a car with the Bad Man, would he?’
‘What if he trapped Moses in there with him?’
‘OK, Leah, here’s what you do. When I bring Sebastien in, I want you to watch Moses very carefully. If he starts acting strangely – hostile – I want you to nod at Daddy. He’ll know what to do. OK?’
‘Please be careful.’
Hannah went to the front door, seeing the distorted shape of Sebastien’s head through the central bulb of glass. She hesitated, hand on the latch, and then she opened it.
Sebastien stared at her, his emerald eyes unreadable. ‘Your father’s favourite Bordeaux.’
‘Château Latour. The name of your second dog.’
‘Cyrus.’ He blinked. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Follow me.’ Hannah led him into the dining room. Moses jumped up to greet him.
Sebastien ruffled the dog’s head. He turned to Nate, noticing first the pain in his eyes, and then the blood. ‘Hellfire. They’ve torn loose.’
‘Kind of bad timing,’ Nate replied.
Sebastien turned back to Hannah. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know yet. What’s worse, Seb, I don’t even know how you fit into all this.’
The old man frowned. ‘Meaning?’
‘We were out riding yesterday, near your cottage. Quite a party you were having. Not exactly the hermit lifestyle you’d led me to believe. What’s going on?’
‘Riding? Riding what?’
‘Answer the question, Seb. Who were those men you were with?’
‘It’s good that you’re suspicious. But there’s a time for that. You need to tell me what happened here. So I can help. Your husband is injured. We need to—’
Nate lifted the barrels of the shotgun. ‘Answer my wife.’
Sebastien hesitated. He looked from Nate to Hannah, and then back to Nate. ‘Bloody-minded, the pair of you,’ he snapped. ‘Fine. I didn’t realise you were spying on me. The two men you saw were Eleni.’
‘I thought you’d severed your ties,’ she said.
‘I had.’
‘So what? That was just a social visit?’
‘Of course not. I contacted them. Just one of them. In confidence. I thought they might be able to help.’
‘Just one of them?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘And yet two showed up. Some confidence, Seb. How many others know about us now, I wonder?’ She paused, expecting a reply, but he remained silent. ‘You didn’t think we might want to be consulted about that? It didn’t occur to you to ask us about involving another one, two, three or however the hell many more of those people now know about us?’
‘I was trying to help,’ he said quietly. His tone was so incongruous it made her pause, and with sudden clarity she realised how deeply she had wounded him.
And yet he’d had no right to do what he had done. She was absolutely right to be furious with him. ‘Where are they now?’ she demanded.
‘They’ve gone back to town. They’ve rented a place there.’
‘You tell them to stay the hell away from us.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Can I examine your husband now?’
Then, upstairs, Hannah’s phone began to ring. She had left it on the dressing table. ‘I need to get that,’ she said. ‘It could be him. Could be Dad.’
‘Mummy, don’t go.’
Sebastien moved to the door. ‘I’ll do it.’
Hannah locked eyes with him. Then she stood aside and let him pass. She listened to the tread of his boots as they moved up the stairs, on to the landing, across the first-floor hall. Above, the bedroom door creaked. A loose floorboard squealed.
Hannah moved to the window. She scanned the nearby hills, the river, the road. No one. No people. No animals. No movement. Sebastien’s Defender stood on the track, silent and alone.
Upstairs, the phone stopped ringing. A thump. Another creak, followed by footsteps back down the stairs and across the hall. Hannah opened the door and Sebastien slipped into the room. He handed the phone to her.
She checked the missed call log. No number had been recorded. She was about to put the phone on the dining table when it rang in her hands.
Hannah stared down at it, watching it warble and vibrate. She wondered what chance there was that her father was calling. Silly to torture herself. Thumbing the call button, Hannah raised the phone to her ear. She heard empty static. And then a voice.
‘This isn’t really working out, is it?’ Jakab said.
‘If I’d had another half a second to aim, it would have worked out a lot better.’
‘Ouch.’ He laughed. ‘Come on, this isn’t like you.’
‘You don’t know me.’
‘I feel like I do.’
‘Then you’re deluded.’
‘Ah, Hannah, it pains me to hear this anger in your voice.’
She stepped back to the window and looked outside. Was the purpose of his call a distraction? ‘You tried to kill Nate. What did you expect?’
‘We’ve talked about this. Your husband shot me. What did you want me to do? Lie down and die?’
‘That’s exactly what I want you to do.’
‘I have no interest in harming your family.’
‘You murdered my mother.’
‘Another misunderstanding. I don’t blame you for being confused. You’ve been fed so many lies over the years, so much vitriol. No one seems to recognise the truth any more.’
‘And you do.’
‘I know my truth.’
‘What do you want?’
‘The only thing I’ve ever wanted, Hannah. A small and simple thing: something so inconsequential it would cost you virtually nothing to grant it. I want to see you, just once. I want to sit down in a room with you and look at your face while I talk. I want to show you who I really am. And if at the end of all that, you still want to walk away, if you still insist that this has to end, then so be it. I’ll honour your wishes.’
‘As simple as that?’
‘As simple as that.’
‘What have you done with my father?’
‘He’s perfectly safe.’
‘Put him on.’
‘I can’t do that right now, Hannah. But he’s safe, I promise you. In fact, you’ll have him back with you very soon.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Lying gives me indigestion. I prefer to tell the truth.’
She turned away from the window. Saw her daughter, balancing the last of the shotgun cartridges at the rear of a curving line. Saw the fear and the determination in her face. She looked across to the armchair where Nate sat, met his eyes, glanced down at his abdomen and the spreading stain of blood.
‘OK. I’ll meet you.’
An intake of breath. ‘You will?’
‘I just said so. Come on, then. Tell me where.’
‘Tell you . . . now?’
‘I can’t think of a better time.’
‘This is unexpected. I—’
‘I’m sure it is. So you’d better hurry up. I might change my mind.’
Silence at the other end. Then: ‘I’ll call you back. Goodbye, Hannah. You’ve made the right decision.’
She hung up the phone and closed her eyes, leaning against the door.
‘It’s a trick,’ Sebastien said. ‘He doesn’t want to meet you like this. It’s against his nature. He won’t simply let you show up and confront him. He prefers masks. Subterfuge.’
‘I have no intention of meeting him. I have every intention of killing him. If he’s distracted, if he’s busy thinking about that instead, maybe it gives us an edge.’
Nate shrugged. ‘It’s the only tactic we have.’
‘Now we need to think about how we get out of here.’
‘We have to assume he’s watching the house,’ he replied. ‘We’ve got two cars. Only one obvious way out. Over the bridge and up to the main road.’
Hannah turned to Sebastien. ‘Any other routes out?’
The old man grimaced. ‘Plenty. But all across open ground. The river flows in and out of the lake. There’s no crossing to the east. To the west, about two miles upstream, there’s a ford. The other option is behind us. The long way round. But the terrain is pretty unforgiving. I don’t think we can risk it.’
‘We’ve got 4x4’s.’
‘It’s not that.’ He inclined his head, ever so slightly, in Nate’s direction.
She knew he was right. Now that her husband’s wounds had reopened, they couldn’t afford a lengthy traverse across broken ground. They needed to get off the mountain. Shake Jakab loose. Find a hospital. Fast.
‘So we take the main road,’ she said. ‘Assume he’ll follow. Try to lose him in the mountains. Some kind of diversion.’
Sebastien nodded. He looked about as pleased at the prospect as she felt. ‘Two cars or one?’
‘We go together.’
‘Two cars gives us more options.’
‘I’m not splitting the three of us.’
‘Then don’t. You go in one car. I’ll take the other.’
Her phone rang. They all stared at it. It rang a second time. She activated it and held it to her ear.
‘Me again.’
‘That was quick.’
‘I’m a quick worker.’
‘And?’
‘I’ve been thinking about something. You don’t trust me.’
‘Perceptive.’
‘If it wasn’t for the sarcasm I’d thank you. It’s clear I need to do something to build a little trust with you, before we see each other. A gesture of goodwill. Otherwise I fear we’ll both walk away from our conversation unfulfilled. First, a confession: I haven’t always made the right choices. There, I’ve said it. Some of the choices I’ve made have been bad, a few of them have been terrible. A lot of mistakes, but all of them in the past. Some made with worthy intentions, some without. When you live a long time, you get to collect a lot of mistakes. I won’t make excuses for all of mine, but I will tell you my story, when I see you. Some of it is distasteful. I’m objective enough to see that. But I’m hoping that after we talk you’ll at least understand a fraction of what I’ve lost, what I’ve suffered, what I’ve sacrificed.’ He hesitated, and she heard his breathing quicken. ‘Look out of the window, Hannah. I’m giving you your father back.’
The line crackled and died.
Nate raised his eyebrows. ‘What did he say?’
Hannah took the phone away from her ear. She frowned, staring at it.
‘Hon?’
Moving to the window, she looked outside. Dawn had coloured the sky with a wash of pink that seeped around dishwater clouds. In the distance, a black Ford pickup rolled over the stone bridge. It reached the side nearest Llyn Gwyr and slowed to a halt. As she watched, the driver’s side door opened.
Her father climbed out.
‘Oh, my God.’
‘What is it?’ Sebastien joined her at the window, and hissed out a breath.
Nate put out a hand to Hannah. She helped him to his feet.
Charles Meredith shut the door of the truck and raised both hands above his head. He looked towards the farmhouse. Then he walked to the front of the vehicle, knelt down and laced his fingers behind his head.
Hannah stared, unable to move, unable to think. It couldn’t be possible. Could it?
It’s clear I need to do something to build a little trust with you, before we see each other. A gesture of goodwill.
Could she even begin to believe that her father was out there, that he was really still alive?
‘I don’t like this,’ Sebastien muttered.
Her father looked tired, ill, but he seemed uninjured. She wished she could talk to him, validate him. But Jakab hadn’t offered that, had sprung this surprise on her. Why?
She couldn’t afford to take him at his word.
Could she?
When you’ve lived for a long time, you get to collect a lot of mistakes.
‘Mummy, look at Moses.’
I’m giving you your father back.
‘Mummy, look.’
Leah’s words finally reached Hannah and she switched her attention to the dog. Moses had trotted to the dining-room door, and now he sat an inch away from it, ears raised, deathly still.
She glanced back at the road. The truck was still parked by the bridge. Her father still knelt in front of it.
Moses began to keen softly.
She looked at Sebastien. ‘What is it?’
He put his hand into his coat pocket and when he removed it he was holding his knife. ‘Trouble.’
The dog rose up on all fours. Lifted his nose to the door jamb. Growled.
From the kitchen, a soft thump.
‘Mummy?’
‘Go stand behind Daddy, scamp,’ Hannah whispered. She took the shotgun from Nate. Took a step towards Moses. Towards the door.
A click, somewhere in the hallway. Footsteps? Then, the squeal of a door hinge. Living room. Had to be. The door from the kitchen stood permanently open. Someone had come through the back door of the farmhouse. They’d walked into the hall and then the living room.
The dog growled again. Sebastien clicked his tongue and the animal fell silent. If Hannah were to surprise their intruder, the best time was now – get into the hallway before he came back out of the living room. Be there waiting for him.
She reached out a hand to the door handle, touched its metal with sweat-slicked fingers, gripped it in her palm, turned it anticlockwise, prayed that its moving metal parts wouldn’t betray her, and pulled the door open, towards her, ready to let go of the handle and hold the shotgun in both hands the moment she saw movement.
The hallway was empty.
Hannah planted a foot on to a floorboard she knew was solid. She swung the gun to the right, advanced fully into the hall, blinking, itching, wanting to rub the graininess out of her eyes, wanting to rub her face and loosen the tension there, knowing that she should do nothing but brace the stock of the weapon into the meat of her shoulder. Gabriel walked out of the living room.
He turned towards her and raised his eyebrows when he saw her aiming both barrels at his head. ‘Have I come at a bad time?’ he asked. When he grinned, the expression didn’t reach his eyes. His cobalt stare measured her with frightening detachment.
‘Shut up.’ She backed away from him, keeping the sight hovering between his eyes. When she had given herself enough space between him and the dining-room door, she indicated where she wanted him to go with a flick of the gun. ‘In there. Now.’
Gabriel shrugged. ‘You really don’t need to point that thing at me,
Hannah. But I’m guessing you’re going to ignore whatever I say.’
‘Get inside.’
Hands raised, he obeyed.
Hannah followed, keeping the sight of the gun inches from the back of his head. ‘Take the chair furthest from the window. I’m sure you’ll figure out just how still you need to sit to avoid me unloading this into your face.’
As Gabriel slid around the dining table, Moses backed away from him until he was crouching in front of Sebastien, lips pulled back from his teeth, muscles twitching.
Gabriel sat down on the chair Hannah had indicated. He gazed about the room. Finally he returned his attention to Hannah. ‘Quite the welcoming party,’ he said.
She checked the bridge. Her father still knelt in front of the pickup. He wore a woollen winter jacket, but only a light pair of trousers. It was cold outside. Damp.
‘Little miss,’ Gabriel said. ‘That’s a pretty pattern you’ve made right there with those shotgun rounds.’ He looked back up at Hannah. ‘Nothing sinister about that at all.’
‘Don’t talk to her.’
‘You, by the window,’ Gabriel continued. ‘You must be Nate. I’ve been wanting to meet you, shake your hand and tell you what a lucky man you are. You’ve a fine wife.’
Nate’s expression hardened. ‘We’ve met before.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. Not like this. A man of your calibre – I think I’d remember. But I’d say that luck of yours has taken a bit of a knock, judging from all that blood. I’m no expert, but I’d say you need something a bit more comprehensive than a sticking plaster to fix you up. And you,’ he added, turning to Sebastien. ‘Sebastien, isn’t it? The old hermit guy. That’s what you’d like people to think. Always popping up, though, aren’t you? Like some persistently bad-tempered old leprechaun. OK, I place myself at your mercies. Perhaps one of you would like to tell me where we all go from here.’
‘Why is my father out there?’ Hannah demanded, edging towards him. ‘What do you hope to gain from this?’
Gabriel’s eyes never left her face. ‘I don’t intend to gain anything from this.’
‘What were you doing in the house? What was your plan?’
‘There was no plan.’
‘Liar. Why were you in the house?’
‘I heard gunshots. I came over. The back windows were blown out.’
The String Diaries Page 28