Like Father

by Nick Gifford

  Oma had retreated from the window to an armchair where she sat quietly, eyes still open, watching. Val sat on the sofa with Josh’s head in her lap, the little boy stretched out full length on the sofa, fast asleep.

  Outside, lightning still danced in the distance.

  Danny went through to the landing, paused to peer down the stairs at the locked front door, and then went to stand in the kitchen doorway.

  DS Fox sat at the table with a mug of tea, looking at one of Val’s alternative lifestyle magazines. She looked up at Danny.

  “All quiet in there?” she said, through a professional smile.

  Danny nodded. “Any news?” he asked her.

  “No, nothing. Sorry.”

  Danny’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it for now.

  “He’ll come here,” he said. “Why else would he have phoned after he’d got out? He’ll hitch a lift, or he’ll sneak a free ride on a train, or if it comes to it, he’ll just walk, but however he does it he’ll come here.”

  “Go to sleep, Danny. It’s late. We’re here to protect you, and to catch him.”

  “The prison guards were there to keep him in prison, but they couldn’t stop him, could they?”

  He turned and went back to the living room. He went to the window, where Oma had stood for much of the evening. He checked his phone.

  Fine here. Nite nite Danny Schmidt ...C xx

  ~

  The day broke, bright and hot. Danny sat in his room’s window seat and watched the steam rising from puddles in the car park below.

  He had slept little, but he felt strangely rested. Sharmila’s breathing exercises helped – there were benefits to living in a place like Hope Springs.

  Two plain clothes officers were in a car below. Danny couldn’t quite work out whether their strategy was to be visible in order to scare his father off, or to be hiding so that they could pounce on him when he marched up to the front door.

  He surveyed the trees.

  His father was used to hiding and watching.

  Nothing.

  As the sun rose, the ground dried. Soon you would be hard put to tell it had rained at all last night.

  Danny took his phone out and re-read Cassie’s last message. He keyed out a new one for her.

  Things happening. U should stay away from here 2day. CU tomorrow. DS.

  He looked at his watch. Six-thirty in the morning. It was going to be a long day.

  ~

  It was the church bells that set her off, ringing in the hour at ten in the morning.

  “But you haven’t been to church in years,” said Val, exasperated by her mother-in-law’s sudden, odd request.

  Oma stood on the landing, her arms folded. “My boy is in trouble,” she said. “I want to pray for him.”

  Pray to whom, Danny wondered. Or to what ancient god?

  “The church will probably be locked,” said Val, stubbornly. “They do that these days. How are we going to get you there? You can hardly walk all that way. Can’t you just pray here?”

  “I want to go to church.”

  “There’s the school chapel,” said Danny.

  Val glanced at him. He wasn’t sure if she was irritated or grateful at his intervention. The school chapel was attached to the east wing of Wishbourne Hall. It had been locked up and unused for years, but more recently, as HoST had started to offer more courses for its weekend visitors, the pews had been removed and the chapel had been used as a hall for yoga and meditation sessions.

  A short time later, Danny stood with DC Fox at the top of the stairs. “Give us five minutes,” he told his mother. “I’ll call to let you know it’s okay.”

  She nodded, and he went down the stairs after the officer.

  Outside, the air had that freshness of heat after rain, as if the world had been reborn. Danny waited while DC Fox spoke to her colleagues in the car.

  Danny rubbed at his tired eyes and waited.

  Then he turned and she was there, standing right in front of him. Cassie. Her dark hair was almost purple in the morning’s harsh sunlight.

  “I said–”

  “I know,” she interrupted. “So what is it? What’s so awful that you tell me to stay away, and that there’s a police car parked down at the entrance to the Hall and them here?” She nodded at the unmarked police car as she spoke.

  “My dad,” said Danny. “He’s escaped from prison.” He glanced at the police officers, and then added, “Hodeken helped him.”

  “Oh god, Danny. I knew something was happening. Something bad. I could feel it.”

  “Who’s this?” said DC Fox, joining them.

  “A friend,” said Danny. “Cassie. Let’s go.”

  The three threaded their way through the parked cars and then followed the path across in front of the Hall to the far wing. As they walked, Danny explained to Cassie about Oma’s sudden insistence that she should be allowed to pray.

  Around the corner, they could look out across the lawn to the lake. Someone was down there, riding the mower back and forth across the grass.

  Danny produced the heavy key Val had given him and unlocked the wooden door into the chapel. Light flooded in, through the doorway and through the tall windows. The walls had been whitewashed and in this light they shone a glaring white.

  Chairs were stacked against one wall, but otherwise the main area was empty. DC Fox went through to the annexe, where there was a small kitchen and some storage space.

  “Nothing,” she said, coming out moments later. “I think we can safely give the all-clear.”

  Cassie went to get some of the chairs down. “Might as well have somewhere to sit,” she said brightly.

  Danny took his phone from his pocket and fast-dialled the flat’s number. “Val? Danny. It’s okay. You can come over now.” Then he added, “I’ve got a friend with me. Cassie. It’s okay. She knows about all this.”

  DC Fox was in the doorway. “Back in a minute,” she said.

  Danny went to the door, and watched her head back around the building. He looked down across the lawn again. The mower was still riding from side to side of the wide green area. The air shimmered with heat haze.

  He heard a voice. Rick. Laughing and talking. Danny sighed. The last thing they wanted was Rick interfering right now.

  More voices, to his right. Danny looked, and saw DC Fox leading Val, Josh and the shuffling Oma around the side of the Hall.

  Danny leaned against the door-frame, suddenly dizzy. The voices, approaching from all sides... He struggled to piece it all together.

  Who was Rick talking to?

  He looked along the paved path that led through a narrow rose bed to the steps at the top of the lawn.

  Rick was approaching, looking back down the steps. He was still laughing and talking. He was a popular man, after all. People liked Little Rick.

  To the right, DC Fox, Val and Oma approached, Josh toddling around merrily at their feet.

  “Val? Yes. You know, I’m really lucky there. She’s a fine woman. I couldn’t be luckier, could I, Danny? Danny? Isn’t that right? Me and your mum?”

  But Danny was staring at the man who followed Rick up the steps and now across the path through the roses. The man was smiling, nodding, agreeing with Rick, one hand on his companion’s arm the other behind his own back.

  As the man half-turned, Danny saw that something part wood and part metal was hooked into the back of his trousers.

  “Hey, Danny, what are you doing in the chapel?” said Rick. Just at that instant, he seemed to sense something. A hint of strangeness. A tension. A suggestion that, even though the day was sunny and the woman he loved was now standing in a small group by the east wing of the Hall ... despite all this, just the faintest suggestion that all was not, in fact, right with the world.

  Danny saw this crossing his teacher’s mind, in the briefest flicker of confusion.

  “This chap,” Rick said, faltering, trying to pick up his momentum again. “He says he knows you, Danny. H
e...”

  “He’s my father.”

  Rick stopped, turned his head, stared.

  Danny’s father smiled and nodded. “You were saying?”

  And with his free hand, he pulled something from the back of his trousers. It was the hand-axe Rick had been using to split logs the previous day.

  The blade was a dull grey, all apart from the cutting edge which glinted now in the sunlight. These tools have to be kept sharp if they are to be any good. Rick was very careful about such things. Blunt tools are dangerous.

  But then, sharp tools can be dangerous, too.

  A sudden movement.

  So fast! Like a snake striking.

  The hand that had been on Rick’s arm shot upwards and grabbed him by the pony-tail. It yanked down, so that his neck was exposed to the sunlight.

  “I think you were telling me about my wife,” said Danny’s father, still in that slow, lazy tone he had used on the phone the previous lunchtime. He held the axe poised at about shoulder-height. Ready to swing it down onto Little Rick’s neck.

  Danny stepped towards the two of them. “Let him go, Dad,” he said softly. He could see the tendons stretched tight in Rick’s neck, his adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to swallow.

  “Danny?” His father stared at him, squinting a little.

  “Yes, Dad. It’s me. Let Rick go. We can talk.”

  DC Fox was at Danny’s elbow now. “Mr Smith,” she said. “Drop the axe and release this man. I’m a police officer and I’m not alone. Give yourself up now. It’s all over.”

  Danny’s father still smiled. “I can do what I want,” he said. “I can walk right through your lot and you won’t bat an eyelid.”

  Fox faltered, and that was when Rick spotted his chance.

  “Hey!” he called. “Hey, Josh! Look who’s here. It’s your daddy. Josh, come and see your daddy.”

  Danny stared at him, horrified, and then, following a movement of Rick’s and his father’s eyes he turned.

  Josh darted away from Val and Oma and ran across the paved area, chuckling away as he did so. “Daddy?” he called. “Daddy?”

  Danny’s father stared down at the little red-haired boy.

  Rick swung an arm up and batted the axe away from himself, then ducked, twisted, and pulled himself free. Staggering, turning, he backed away, stumbling on the path. “I...” he croaked. “I...” He looked around the small gathering, then turned and sprinted away.

  “Daddy?”

  Danny’s father stooped, holding an arm out to the little boy. Josh went to him, still chuckling away, waving a little hand as he was swept up off the ground.

  Please don’t let him work out who Josh actually is, Danny thought.

  DC Fox took a step closer. A step too close.

  In a single movement, Danny’s father straightened with Josh held in the crook of his arm and with his other hand he swung the axe upwards, straightening his arm, extending his reach.

  Danny flinched as the axe made contact. The soft thud it made against the police officer’s face would be with him forever. The faint, surprised gasp as she fell back, and then slumped to one side into the roses.

  It was over in an instant, and it was only in the long seconds afterwards that Danny saw DC Fox move a little after landing, saw the rise and fall of one shoulder as she breathed and he knew that, for now at least, she lived. It was only then that he made sense of what he had seen: the blade, pointing the wrong way so that the blunt end had struck the officer, not the finely-honed cutting edge.

  And now: a piercing wail burst out from Josh.

  “So...” said Danny’s father, holding Josh high on his left arm as the toddler squirmed and cried. “Who are you, then, young man?”

  “Put him down, Tony.” This was Val, standing with Oma by the chapel door. As Danny looked up at her, he saw Cassie hiding inside.

  “Put him down, Dad,” he said. “It’s over. Rick will have phoned the police by now.” He doubted that, but he did hope that his emphasis on those words might prompt Cassie into phoning for help, if she hadn’t already.

  “Val?” said his father, now. Josh was making a choked sobbing sound now, looking from adult to adult, confused. “Is that you, Val? Am I dreaming again? It always seems so ... real. Val, I’ve come for you, and for my little boy. Val, we’ll go away. Start all over again. We’ll be a happy family. You just need to give me a chance.”

  “Put him down, Dad. Will you put the little boy down?”

  “You...” His father’s expression changed now. His eyes narrowed, his skin became more flushed. He squinted at the axe as he raised it again. There was blood on the blade from where he had struck DC Fox.

  “You keep talking to me,” he said. “My head.”

  “It’s me, Dad. Danny. Your son. Put the little boy down.”

  His father shook his head.

  Josh was growing frustrated. He twisted, and called, “Mummy? Danny?”

  Just then, Oma slumped against the wall and Val caught her, held her, guided her so that she sat down slowly instead of falling.

  “I’ll have your tongue,” Danny’s father told him now. “Just like the others.” He shook his head again, as if trying to dislodge something.

  “Do it then,” said Danny. “But you’ll have to put the boy down first.” He put his hands out, as if to take Josh.

  The boy wriggled, and Danny’s father eased his grip enough for him to twist free and run to his mother.

  “It’s okay, Dad. It’s all over. It’s Danny. You know who I am, don’t you?”

  “The voices...”

  “I know. In your head. Hodeken. I know about him, Dad. I know all about him. He’s real. He’s tormenting you. Don’t let him, Dad. Stand up to him.”

  Just then, Danny was aware of a flickering in the corner of his vision, something flashing through the rose bed.

  A small figure. A little man with a pointed hat.

  “You can beat him, Dad.”

  And Hodeken stood by his father’s side. “It’s no good, Danny. That’s the trouble. Can’t you see? He hears me but he doesn’t believe. He won’t let himself see me. Here I am, trying to help, and he just can’t let himself see!”

  Danny glared at the little figure, its twisted, gnarled old features, its eyes that claimed to understand but didn’t really understand a thing.

  “Go away!” he snapped. “Leave us alone. We don’t want you. We don’t want you interfering and making a mess of our lives. You’re not needed – can’t you see?”

  Hodeken stared at him.

  “Just leave us alone. We don’t need you.”

  His father grunted, snatching Danny’s attention away from the kobold.

  He had raised the axe.

  He was staring at Danny, pure madness in his eyes.

  “Oh yes you do,” chirped Hodeken.

  He jumped up and slapped Danny’s father on the cheek. When the man looked down, he seemed to see something on the path and he stooped for a closer look.

  Hodeken darted around behind him, sprang into the air and gave him an almighty two-footed kick in the seat of his trousers.

  Danny’s father went sprawling on the paving slabs and Danny leapt on top of him.

  The axe ... it had slipped from his father’s grip. In the instant Danny saw it lying on the path, he reached for it, found the base of its handle and managed to flip it over, beyond their reach.

  Winded by the fall, his father gasped for air, but then with frightening strength he swung an arm, catching Danny in the side with his elbow.

  He swung again, and then bucked his body and almost managed to throw Danny clear.

  Danny hung on, desperate. It could only be seconds before he was toppled, and then his father would do whatever it was he wanted to do.

  Then there were hands on his back, and legs and feet in the corner of his vision.

  Someone pulled at him, and someone kicked him in the hip, sending a bolt of pain the length of his body.

  He
fell back, clear, and an elbow or a knee caught him in the face. He ducked his head and struggled out from the pile of fighting men.

  Lying on his side, he looked back and saw policemen, three or maybe four of them, pinning his father to the ground. He slumped back, almost blacking out with the pain in his side and his head.

  He felt a hand on his chest, gentler this time.

  Cassie.

  “You never told me you were a bloody hero,” she said, and flung her arms around him, sobbing.

  23 Hinzelmannchen

  They made Hodeken bread. They borrowed the strong organic flour, the yeast and the recipe from Jade. They mixed the ingredients and kneaded the dough, taking it in turns to press and fold, to knock it back and knead again.

  As they left the bread to bake, they sat in the window seat in Danny’s room. Outside, the sun was low, the light magical and golden through the trees.

  “So what did you see?” Danny asked her.

  “I saw what happened,” Cassie told him. “I saw you arguing with your father, persuading him to let Josh go after he had knocked out the policewoman. I saw him ... I saw the way he swung the axe up high and he was about to swing it down ... at you, Danny. And then as he swung, you sidestepped him, or ducked, or something. It wasn’t clear. It was so fast. And he went flying over you and you were on him and holding him down until the police came.”

  When the timer rang out, they went back to the kitchen and took the bread from the oven.

  “So,” said Cassie. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  Danny went to the fridge, and took out a carton of milk. “We’re going to say goodbye to Hodeken,” he said. “I’ve been thinking through some of the stuff we found, and some of the things Hodeken has shown me. He’s devoted himself to my family for half a century, probably far longer. Despite all the harm he’s caused, he’s protected us when he could. I think we should recognise that. Without Hodeken, Oma and her sister and brothers probably wouldn’t have survived the war.”

  He poured the milk into a simple china cup. “When Eva called to him during the war, they had to ask him three times in succession and they made him an offering. Kobolds like the simple things, plain food like bread and milk. They don’t like complications. I think our world is too complex for him. He’s trying to do his best but he just doesn’t get it. I think that if we ask him in the right way we might get through to him. Eva managed it, all those years ago: we just need to do it the way she did.”