‘I don’t need a present Joe. I just want you to get home safely.’ Kevin said with resignation.
‘I will, don’t you worry.’ Joe said and offered his hand.
Kevin took it and they shook.
‘Thanks again.’ Joe said.
‘You’re welcome.’ Kevin replied with regret in his voice. Joe was surprised that he didn’t offer his usual ‘nae bother.’ For a moment he looked as though he was about to give one more word of caution, but he didn’t.
As Joe fired up the engine on the Nissan he saw Kevin come towards him from the back door of the bar. He wondered if he was going to start with more stories as he brought the window down. In his arm Kevin was carrying a bulky winter jacket.
‘Take this with ya. That fucking thing you are wearing could’nae keep a dog warm.’
‘No really it’s Ok...’ Joe started but Kevin pushed the bundle through his window.
‘There ya go. The next time I see you that’s a full set o’ winter clothing you owe me.’ Kevin forced a smile.
Joe took the coat and placed on to the passenger seat. ‘Thanks mate, you are...well you know.’
‘Aye. Go steady. The radio said the weather is going to turn to shite tonight and that it could get very bad by tomorrow.’
Joe had forgotten to check the radio and was glad for the heads up.
‘I’ll be finished within a few hours, should be fine.’ He gave a final nod of thanks and then pulled off the car park.
The journey out of the village and along the coastal road was starting to become familiar. When he reached the first place that the road split he pulled over and checked the scrap of paper with the directions listed on it. The route was straight on from here and this was the route he had taken for the other journeys.
A couple of landmarks were highlighted which he had seen but had not thought of as such, where the road veered around a large hill and forced him away from the coast, a passing place where just beyond it was a broken down barn with rubble strewn about it like little cake decorations covered with ice. Finally he came to the Cenotaph with the forest looming to the rear of it. The direction said to carry straight on from here and then to take a road off to the left.
Joe would have bet a month’s wages that there had been no left turning on the road for a good five miles after the Cenotaph and yet, after driving no more than a thousand yards a break in the dry stone wall that divided the road from snow covered fields, revealed a junction. There were furrows in the snow and Joe couldn’t decide if he had actually travelled along this route and forgotten in the confusion, or if these were perhaps the tracks left by the man who had delivered the Doctors letter.
He paused at the junction for a moment, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. The road was clear as far as he could see but at some point it would have to cut through the forest as the lay of the land suggested that it would end up going over a mountain if not.
He thought about the barn. Kevin’s voice drifted into his thoughts ‘there used to be a half dozen other villages around here.’
He indicated left, despite there being no car or person within view for miles, and started down the road towards Winter Falls.
Chapter Five
Joe noticed a steady decline in the road as he approached the forest ahead, the dip made the hills seem larger, and the forest more vast. The trees were incredibly tall and dense throughout. The foliage of the perennials was rich and dark and that darkness was amplified under the canopy it created as the Nissan entered it.
He couldn’t say whether it was the weird stories spun by Kevin that produced a chill in him as he followed the road though the trees, or if it was because the air was simply cooler, but he turned up the heat from the air-con to counter it. Despite the gloom and the danger of driving along a road that could have hidden potholes and icy sheets under the snowy cover Joe increased his speed.
After a while he had begun to wonder just how far the forest would stretch, it seemed that he had been driving for far more than the ten minutes the clock displayed. He pulled his phone from the canvas bag. He had bundled the coat on top of it which made it a struggle. As his attention was diverted from the road for just a second, to loosen the zip on the bag, something dashed past the front of the car.
Instinct forced Joe’s foot to hammer the brake pedal to the floor and the Nissan lurched for a brief moment and then began a graceful slide which in a heartbeat started to become a skid. Joe was struck with a mild panic and overcompensated on the steering wheel, exacerbating the angle at which the Nissan turned. As a dry stone wall came into view through the windscreen he managed to push away the panic and started to tap the brake pedal and carefully and eased the wheels against skid.
The Nissan did its job and regained traction bringing it to a halt almost sideways on the road and close to the wall. Joe let his head fall back against the padded seat and let out a long breath.
‘Jesus Christ.’
Sweat began to pour from his scalp. He looked out of the side and then the rear window but couldn’t see anything. The heat of the air-con seemed hellish and he felt a little nauseous. He opened his door and climbed out. Cold air raced around his body and quickly extinguished the sweat but Joe decided to stay outside until he was sure he wasn’t going to throw up.
He leaned on the bonnet and rested his forehead onto his forearms, breathing heavily.
‘This is too much.’ He said between short pants of breath. ‘This is getting way too fucking much.’ A series of loud cracks made him quickly lift his head and he spun to face the forest. He scanned the gloom, looking deep into the trees but couldn’t see anything, until suddenly ‘crack...crack...crack’ noises came from just beyond where dark began.
He stood and walked towards the wall. From the corner of his eye he detected movement, a flash of colour, brown, white. Joe felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck and just as he started to back up towards the car a stag bounded into view. It leapt in and out of the trees weaving through them with graceful ease. Joe gasped.
He had never seen a live stag before. The creature was magnificent, as big as a horse and sporting a set of antlers towering above its head. It continued its wild and erratic prancing through the trees and then abruptly turned back into the forest. Further cracking of dead branches could be heard as it galloped away,
Joe continued to gaze in the direction that the stag had run until he realised that his teeth were chattering. He gathered his wits and got back into the car. The warm interior was intoxicating and Joe took another moment before he manoeuvred it back into position.
He couldn’t decide whether he was more excited about seeing the stag, which he supposed had almost caused him to crash, or whether he was concerned at just how scared he had been that something weird had been in the forest.
Before he started off again he finished what he had been doing. He unzipped the pocket of the bag and checked his phone. No signal.
‘Brilliant.’ he said. ‘Fucking brilliant.’ He put the Nissan in gear and moved on through the forest.
The first sign of civilisation was a bicycle propped up next to a stile. Joe slowed the car and brought the passenger window down. On closer inspection he could see the bicycle was practically ancient. It looked like the type of bike he had seen in old movies the kind the police or postmen rode. The tyres were reduced to ragged strips of desiccating rubber and the paintwork had been replaced by a rough coat of rust.
The edge of the forest was the closest to the road he had seen so far and he half expected to the Stag to appear, leaping in and out of the trees. Ardach Coille didn’t not appear to thin out at all, it was just a solid mass of trees, gorse and bramble right up to its edge.
He closed the window and carried on along the road. Eventually houses began to appear, cottages with long gardens that led down to the road. Joe couldn’t help but notice that even with a blanket of snow covering the rooves and creeping up the corners, the cottages looked to be in a poor state. There was
n’t a double-glazed window to be seen and the wooden frames looked rotten.
As he progressed, still moving downhill, the cottages became semi-detached and terraced homes. The gardens became shorter and street lights appeared. What didn’t change was impression of dilapidation and age. The same rotten frames and soiled windows marked each house. Joe wondered how bad this place would look without the snow masking it.
The road curved and as the Nissan came around a bend the whole of the port was visible below. A cluster of houses interspersed with large buildings that Joe assumed were warehouses huddled up to the water’s edge.
Two jetties ran straight out into the harbour and a number of boats, fastened to posts that stuck up like twisted fingers from the jetties, bobbed gently on the water.
The road split here, he could carry on down and into the port proper or go straight across to where a row of large houses stood. Joe thought that they had an official look to them and decided to head there. As he pulled up outside a house that had a large wooden notice board outside it Joe realised that he hadn’t seen a soul on his way in. Nor could he see anybody now.
He took a look at the notice board. Faded letters at the top revealed that this was the ‘Winter Falls Police House.’ Underneath the notice board was free of any messages. No parish notes or lost dog posters, just worn wood and blistered paintwork.
‘Bingo.’ Joe said.
He decided to wear the coat. It had been insanely cold when he had got out of the car after the stag incident and it was not looking to get any warmer. He picked it up and also grabbed the canvas bag. The coat was too bulky to slip on inside the car so he got out and put the bag between his feet and he wrestled it on. It was a big coat, clearly made for Kevin’s stocky physique but it was well padded and lined. It felt good.
Joe zipped it up and reached for his bag. As he did so he felt something jab at his hip. He stopped and put his hands into the pockets. In the right pocket he felt something cold and hard. He gripped it and withdrew a revolver.
‘Fuck!’ He gasped.
His surprise was so great that he almost dropped the gun into the snow. He turned to face the car in case anybody was looking out of the nearby windows at him.
‘Jesus fucking Christ Kevin.’ He said. Carefully he broke the chamber open to see if it was loaded. The bases of six bullets started at him back at him. He snapped it shut and returned it to his pocket. He felt a little more carefully in the other. His fingers came into contact with the cold cylindrical cases of more bullets.
‘It’s not a big deal.’ Joe said to himself. ‘Kevin is just a little paranoid.’ He picked up his bag and turned back to the Police Station.
‘Now, I’m just going to stroll into this cop shop with a loaded gun and everything will be fine.’ He said, under his breath and with minimum lip movement as though someone might be watching from behind a curtain.
He walked up the steps that led to the front door. He wondered whether he was supposed to knock. This wasn’t like police stations he was used too. ‘Police station, police house,’ he thought, was there a difference? He decided to knock. Just a few seconds after delivering a short but audible rap he heard another door open inside the building and footsteps approaching.
Joe wasn’t sure what to expect. He recalled Kevin’s description of the men that came to buy goods in Roscregan. Strange people that hid their faces, revealing only widely spaced eyes, flat noses and thin mouths. Is that what would be on the other side of the door?
When the door opened Joe was not sure if he was not actually disappointed as the man before him exhibited none of these characteristics. He wore a police uniform although it looked a little worn and possibly not the cleanest Joe had seen. He was also an incredibly large man, easily six and a half feet tall and well built, although his gut revealed that he was not big through exercise, at least not these days. Joe thought him to be in his fifties but the thick black beard he sported disguised his age a little. His hair was thick and somewhat long and unkempt for a policeman.
A large hand with hairy fingers was offered and Joe accepted the handshake. He had half expected the big man to crush his fingers as some sign of dominance however the shake was firm but not painful.
‘Ye must be Mr Clarke,’ He said. His voice was surprisingly gentle and the accent mild. Much easier on the ear than those of the Roscregan villagers, Joe thought.
‘Yes that’s right, but please do call me Joe.’
‘As you wish Joe, my name is Alex Macgregor but just Macgregor is fine. I don’t think I’ve been called Alex since I was a bairn. Come in. I’ve a tea brewing.’
Macgregor stepped back from the door and gestured for Joe to enter.
It was just a few steps from the front door to a small room with a counter that ran the length of it. There were two doors in the room both behind the counter, on one it read CELL and the other read PRIVATE.
Macgregor moved ahead of Joe and lifted a portion of the counter up just like Kevin did to access his bar. This was clearly the business end of the station. A few official looking notices were tacked to the walls and a faded poster on the front of the counter announced that there was to be a SUMMER FAYRE.
‘Come through.’ Macgregor said.
Joe followed him through the door marked PRIVATE. To his surprise it was actually a living room on the other side. There were two large chairs and a matching sofa, a dinner table with four chairs set around it at the far side and an assortment of cupboards. A small fireplace burned gently producing enough heat to chase away the cold. On the right wall was another door and Macgregor made his way to it.
‘Take a seat and I’ll get ya brew. Do ya take sugar and milk?
‘Just milk please.’ Joe replied.
‘It’s only powdered milk.’
‘That’s fine, really, thanks.’ Joe said.
He settled into one of the sofa chairs. As he got comfortable he felt the hard shape of the gun barrel on his hip once again and stopped fidgeting. Macgregor entered with a large mug in each hand. ‘There ya go,’ he said handing the leftmost mug to Joe and sat on the sofa.
‘I was told to give you this note.’ Joe said. He placed his mug onto a small table he spied to the side. He was going to ask about a coaster but saw that the table was covered with rings from numerous hot cups and the varnish was worn away so took a chance. He reached into his jacket, withdrew the envelope and offered it to Macgregor who took it and placed it onto the arm of the sofa.
‘Thanks.’ He said, and then took a sip of his tea.
Joe was a little surprised that the policeman didn’t take out the letter to read it. He had been expecting him anyway he supposed but was assaulted by the nagging question, ‘then why have me bring it to you, you twat.’
‘Will the Doctor be coming over?’ Joe asked.
‘Aye,’ said Macgregor. ‘He has a few things to attend to in the town and then he is coming to meet you.’
‘Good.’ Joe said. ‘I’m hoping to get away before this evening, the weather is supposed to be turning tonight and I don’t want to be caught in it.’
‘Don’t you worry son,’ Macgregor said, ‘we want to get you finished up and on your way too.’ The policeman seemed to think about this for a minute and then added, ‘I mean, you know...the Doctor is a busy man, yer ken?’ Macgregor looked at Joe intently as if worried that he might react badly.
‘Hey, I understand. I’m sorry that I’ve had to take up any of his time at all.’ Joe replied apologetically. He sensed that this was all hard work for the big policeman, he was trying hard to appear congenial but really had no interest in Joe or his mission.
Joe studied him as he sipped at his tea. Even though the mug Macgregor held was a good size it seemed comically small compared to his huge fist, he was a mountain of a man. The uniform didn’t just show signs of age it actually strained at the seams. Macgregor’s broad back and meaty arms threatened to rip them open at any moment.
‘Have you got your tickets? The gun show is
in town.’
He examined the contents of the room. No photographs, paintings or decoration of any sort adorned the walls, other than wallpaper that wouldn’t have looked out of place in an episode of Downtown Abbey. No television or radios were visible, no books resting on the cupboards. Joe wondered what the huge man did to pass the time. He couldn’t imagine that there was a great deal of crime to deal with out here.
Macgregor said nothing. Small talk was obviously not his thing. Joe pondered what a man with nothing to occupy him might do on a day to day basis, a gym around here probably consisted of lifting boulders and chasing bears. The police officer sipped at his tea and stared malevolently at the fireplace.
Joe was startled as a clear ‘Ding’ rang out in the room. Macgregor rose from his chair and headed for the door leading to the reception room. Joe surmised that a bell, hidden somewhere, must be activated when the front door opened. A new voice could be heard as the door closed.
‘I see our guest has arrived Macgregor.’
‘Aye, he’s sat in ma livin room.’ Macgregor replied to the visitor. Shortly afterwards a slim man wearing a parka entered.
In contrast to Macgregor this man was short, no more than five foot five and had a thin, weasel face and equally thin hair receding from the temples. Joe stood to greet him. The man immediately offered his outstretched hand which Joe took.
‘Alan Peake.’ He said in a friendly and confident manner.
‘Joe Clarke.’ It’s good to meet you Doctor Peake. I was beginning to think I would never get here.’
The Doctor gave a good natured laugh. ‘Ha ha well, when I was advised that there was a young man driving up and down the length of Rhicarn in the snow I thought I had better act!’
Joe felt a little sheepish and started to redden in his cheeks. ‘How did you know I was looking for Winter Falls?’
‘Och, one of the lads from the town was in the Piper and overheard that you were looking for the Falls. Of course I didn’t get to hear about it until late yesterday but as soon as I did I got him to travel back with the letter and directions.’
Winter Falls Page 6