‘Were we?’
‘You’ve gotta let me know next time – like, the next Frack-Free Foxover protest – and I’ll join you.’
Bede exchanged a look with Elin. ‘I sincerely hope it won’t get that far. That the local authority will see sense before it gets to large-scale protesting. If it has to be, I won’t let the side down, but in general I prefer to put my energy into all we’ve got going here.’
‘Talking of which,’ Elin said, beckoning to Tamsin, ‘we can’t sit around all day. You can put the world to rights later. Right now, there’s a greenhouse full of plants calling.’
That evening, Elin pedalled her way along the lane, trying to ignore the drizzle borne on the insistent wind and the scattered puddles weakly illuminated by the beam of her bike light. After her afternoon shift she’d stayed behind to help with redecorating the shop, and felt too tired to call in the pub for a chat with Bede and the regulars. The sky to the west was heavy and grey. If it weren’t for the clouds, it would still be light. It hadn’t felt like a proper spring evening for weeks – or maybe spring would be like this from now on? If Bede had said that, she’d have told him off for being negative.
A gust swelled the treetops as she pedalled past Holtwood. Even the pheasants were silent. The gloomy weather and forbidding yellow signs made her angry. She was too tired right then, but she’d come back in the morning with their flyers. It felt petty. She made herself feel better by thinking she could combine it with a walk beyond the woods to check for signs of activity. While she stopped short of believing in outright corruption, she still didn’t trust Northcote, or the contractors, Prospect G, not to be engaged in inappropriate preparatory work.
As she left the woodland behind, a lone crow flapped low overhead, looking abashed as though it were late home without phoning through. Elin wondered what had got into her.
In the warmth of the kitchen, Kip leapt up at her as if she’d been gone for days. She muttered nonsense words of reassurance and stood in the back doorway shivering as he went nosing busily around the yard. A glance at the clock told her Bede would be in the Horseshoes for at least another hour. Kip curled up beside her on the sofa as she picked up her book, ready to escape to someone else’s world. Her mug of hot chocolate and the crackling fire began to lull her.
The phone rang and jolted her awake. The dog ignored it and she was tempted to do the same. If it was important they’d leave a message. But it was after eleven – the caller must really want something to be ringing at this time. She grabbed the handset, interrupting the answer machine as it began to cut in.
‘Tamsin! Do you know what time it is?’
‘Sorry. This is important. Elin, please, can you get down here? We…we don’t know what to do.’
Her irritation gave way to a hollow fear.
‘What’s wrong? Where are you?’
‘On the lane by Holtwood. Lauren was giving me a lift home and we saw… She’s phoning an ambulance and I had to phone you. Elin, he’s just lying there! I don’t know what to do!’
She was on the verge of tears.
‘Who, Tamsin? What’s happened?’
Elin’s hands shook as she jabbed the telephone off, grabbed her still-damp coat and ran out. Rain lashed the windscreen faster than the wipers could clear it. As she rounded the corner where the woods began, she thought momentarily of that solitary crow.
The two girls were standing guard over a huddled shape at the side of the lane. Elin jerked to a halt in the middle of the road. The first thing she saw was a shiny pink raincoat draped incongruously over his shoulders. The wrongness swelled and threatened to engulf her as she ran over and knelt by his head.
‘Bede?’
No response. She clutched at his hand and absently brushed a strand of hair from his face. He was breathing. She should have been reassured by that. She said his name again.
‘The ambulance and the police are on their way,’ Tamsin said. Elin looked up reluctantly. ‘We didn’t want to move him or the bike in case…you know…’
‘It’s OK,’ Elin said. ‘There’s a blanket in the back of my car, and a groundsheet. Can you—’
Tamsin was on her way before the words were out, clearly relieved to be able to do something. Elin bundled her own coat into a pillow and gently eased it beneath his head, hoping the blood pooled at his temple was only from the graze she could see. The lack of response in his familiar features terrified her. She tried to extricate the bike from his leg, but soon gave up. She felt as helpless as the girls.
Tamsin returned with the blanket and groundsheet and Elin covered him over. She handed her the pink raincoat, then tried again to talk to Bede, all the while clutching his hand.
‘What happened?’ she asked the girls.
‘We came round the bend and saw him lying there. Lauren just managed to stop in time. She only passed her test last month. This is one of the first nights… Sorry.’
Elin couldn’t help glancing at the girls’ car for any sign of an impact, then immediately felt guilty for suspecting them.
‘What time was it?’
‘Sorry,’ Tamsin said, ‘I never looked.’
‘Just after ten past eleven.’ Her friend spoke for the first time. ‘I remember the clock showed 11:11 as we were going through the village. We commented on it.’
‘Well remembered. Did you see him leave the pub? Or anyone else?’
‘Sorry,’ Tamsin said again. ‘A crowd of us left early to watch a film at Ryan’s. Then I wanted to get back ’cause we’re supposed to be making an early start tomorrow…’ Her eyes filled with tears. She looked down at Bede. ‘I’m glad we left when we did.’
Elin gripped Bede’s hand as she caught a glimpse of headlights and heard an approaching engine. The blue light flashed eerily, lighting up the hedgerows in a macabre dance.
A show of politeness
Tap, tap, tap…
He’d been hammering something. With Elin. Where was she now? Some stupid argument; something was wrong. He realised he was in a hospital ward, nothing else, no context, no reason. Where was she? He closed his eyes. It felt wrong to think.
He became aware again, a vague headache hovering beneath the surface but the gap in his life filling itself in. Herding a gaggle of escaped sheep with Frank Barnham. Helping repair the hedge. Fixing timbers together to form the frame for the caravan. Yes, the hammering. Elin smiling. Maybe there was nothing wrong after all. Warm relief washed over him. He opened his eyes, saw the hospital room again. Closed them in denial.
‘Bede?’
Sitting in their kitchen, chatting with her and the girl… Tamsin, that was it. He dared to look, saw Elin sitting by the bed, felt her squeeze his hand. She felt warm. Which meant he must be cold.
‘Thank goodness you’re all right,’ she said.
‘Am I? Are you?’
‘Of course I am. You…you will be.’
‘What? What’s happened?’
‘Don’t worry for now. Just…’
‘That’s making me worry.’ He looked around, saw his leg cradled and raised. Realised there was a pain as dull as the one in his head coming from his foot. Painkillers must be damping it. A drip fed a cannula in the back of the hand she was cradling gently. The other arm was immobilised in a brace. He fought down the fear. ‘Don’t mess about, El. Tell me.’
She glanced at the door, then back to him. ‘You were knocked off your bike. On your way home from work.’
‘Work? With Steve? That was days ago, wasn’t it?’
‘No, not that. At the Horseshoes. Late last night.’
The ache nagged and he closed his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with me?’
He waved the hand she was still holding towards his feet.
‘You…you’ve got a broken ankle. The way you fell. They’re going to operate, set it as soon as you’re ready to take the anaesthetic. Shouldn’t be too long now you’re awake.’ She stroked his hand with her thumb. ‘Your arm…you broke your wrist as well. Presumably s
ticking your hand out to cushion the impact. It’s a clean fracture, tiny bone – nowhere near as bad as the ankle. They’ll put it in a cast when they do your leg.’
Instinctively, he braced himself with his elbows and shifted his left leg. The pain in his foot intensified, as did the ache from his left wrist. He made himself relax.
‘So…how did it happen?’
From the expression on her face, he almost felt like telling her not to worry.
‘We don’t know. Hit-and-run. The bike was buckled – you were hit. The police found a car burnt out on the Halbury road. It was stolen – joyriders, probably. They want to talk to you when you feel ready. Do you remember anything? Anything at all?’
He closed his eyes; saw the scene in their kitchen. Whenever that was. It didn’t lead anywhere. The headache was getting worse. He raised his hand, felt a dressing at his temple.
‘Maybe you’ll remember to wear your cycle helmet next time,’ she said, clearly trying to sound light-hearted about it.
‘On my feet?’
‘Not funny.’ She smiled all the same.
‘Seriously, I can handle a headache, but how long’s this going to take? What about Alderleat, what about the Sunny Days job? I’m not going to be much use to anyone on crutches.’
She indicated his arm. ‘You’ll have to rely on my wheelchair driving skills to begin with.’ She cut off his expletive. ‘You’re supposed to rest anyway after concussion.’
‘The pub? We can’t afford—’
‘We’ll sort it all out. For now I’m just glad you’re here and talking to me. It’s been hell today.’
A nurse came over and cheerfully introduced herself. Bede forced a smile as she asked him how he was and went through a series of routine checks, but hoped she wouldn’t chat more than necessary. Others might find small talk reassuring, but Elin was the only one he could face speaking to. The nurse handed him a glass of water; he realised how dry his mouth had been.
‘Steady, take it gradually at first. Do you feel like something to eat?’
No, I feel like roadkill. He stared into the water glass.
‘Bede…’ Elin prompted.
‘Yeah, suppose I ought to try something.’ He waved the empty glass towards the over-bed table and she took it from him. ‘Vegetarian,’ he added.
‘You’ve missed lunch but I’ll see what I can find you.’
Elin looked between him and the nurse. ‘That’d be lovely, thanks.’
Bede thought to himself that lying in a hospital bed with a worsening headache and a smashed foot was a perfect excuse for forgetting to say please.
‘Thanks for all this. I really appreciate it.’
Elin straightened up, the sofa bed finally manoeuvred into place, and Carole helped her extend it. The small dining room looked cramped, the table and chairs pushed to one side, but she really hadn’t the energy to move anything else.
‘I told you,’ Carole said as she flapped a sheet and watched it float gracefully down into place, ‘you should have got a couple of lads from the Horseshoes to give him a fireman’s lift up to the bedroom. At least he’d be stuck up there and forced to rest.’
‘He’d only lie there wasting energy devising escape strategies. Then fall down the stairs trying, and make things worse. Thank goodness for the downstairs shower-room.’ Elin positioned the pillows and straightened the duvet. ‘There, that’s about done. I really shouldn’t second-guess him; he’ll probably amaze me and turn out to be the model patient.’
‘You just keep believing he will – you need to stay optimistic.’ Carole followed her through to the kitchen and began tidying the breakfast things, waving away Elin’s protests. ‘You’d better be on your way soon. Once you’re gone I’ll go out to the greenhouse and help myself to what we need for the shop. I’ll rearrange the rota to cover for you.’
‘Thanks. You must have—’
‘It’s fine. And if you’re not back, I’ll call round this evening – chickens, Kip…’
Elin found her calm efficiency soothing. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’
‘People turn to you often enough, Elin. It’s my turn now – I’ll do anything I can to help. This is such a shitty thing to have happened.’
‘What do you think did happen?’ Elin glanced at her then stared out of the window.
‘The police said it was joyriders, didn’t they?’
‘Yes, but…’
‘What?’
‘They haven’t spoken to Philip Northcote yet.’
Carole clattered some dishes on the draining-board. ‘Philip? Why on earth would you think he had anything to do with it?’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter.’
‘You can’t be serious. Has Bede done something else to piss him off?’
‘Why does everyone always suspect Bede?’ Elin grabbed a cloth and scrubbed at the table as if she could wipe away the recent events.
‘I don’t. Sorry. I meant because he’s a leading light in the campaign.’
Elin decided to give her clumsy change of tack the benefit of the doubt. ‘He dropped a careless hint about bribery and corruption last week. So it could have been some kind of warning.’
‘Honestly, Elin! Whatever Philip’s views, surely you can’t believe he’d actually do something like that.’
‘It could’ve turned out worse than he intended. Or he could’ve employed someone.’
‘Bloody hell, girl, you want to be careful what you say.’
Elin felt defensive. ‘We want to know what happened.’
‘Bede was unlucky, that’s all.’
As she dried the last of the pots, Elin heard a car pull up outside and glanced out of the window. ‘Silvan.’
She went to open the door.
‘Hi.’ He indicated his muddy boots and hovered on the doorstep. ‘Tammy told me at the weekend what happened. She’s really worried; asked me to tell you she’ll be round as soon as she can. I thought I’d call myself to see how the man is.’
‘I’m just off to the hospital to find out,’ Elin said.
‘That bad? He’s still in?’
‘It was a while before they could set his ankle, and in any case, he had concussion so they wanted to keep an eye on him for a couple of days.’
‘What a bummer,’ Silvan said. Carole looked unsure what to make of him. ‘Does he play draughts? Cards? Tell him I’ll be round. We need to keep that genius brain exercised.’
Elin snorted. ‘Please don’t go inflating his ego. But thanks for the offer; good idea. He’s meant to rest, but I doubt he’ll be very good at enforced inactivity. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.’
She watched him go, then turned back inside to Carole’s inquisitively-raised eyebrows. ‘He seems to have his feet under the table.’
‘He’s called by a few times,’ Elin said. ‘Seems OK. It was nice of him to come.’
‘That’s not what I meant. I take it “Tammy” is Kate’s Tamsin?’
Elin nodded.
‘Since when?’
‘Not long. They were supposed to be going to the coast together last Sunday but with all the drama they hardly got to see each other, so she told me.’
‘I can’t imagine Kate’s very happy. He’s a good few years older than Tamsin, isn’t he?’
‘And hardly Kate’s idea of a nice young man.’ Elin smiled, then narrowed her eyes. ‘Actually, I don’t think she knows. Though I guess it won’t be long now before she does.’
‘You malign me,’ Carole said. ‘I’m the soul of discretion. About your Northcote hints, too, don’t worry. Anyway you’d best be off.’ She glanced at the clock with a conspiratorial wink. ‘Damn. Even if I give you a lift to the village you’ll have missed the bus. You’ll have to take the car.’
‘Don’t be like that. It’s unnecessary journeys we object to.’
Carole smiled as if indulging a favourite child. ‘In oversized vehicles like mine.’
‘I didn’t say—’
‘He has. More than once. Oh, sorry I mentioned it. Time to get moving.’
Elin gathered up a pile of papers and books from the living-room floor to provide a clear passage for the wheelchair the occupational therapist had offered to obtain for him. She stood for a moment, inexplicably lost, until Carole ushered her out.
‘It’s not like you to fret. Come on, he’ll be waiting for you.’
Bede sat listening to the comforting sounds of Elin pottering in the kitchen. Kip gazed up at him, nose in his lap, calmer now. He’d hindered their awkward progress into the house by leaping up at the wheelchair as though his master had been gone for weeks, sniffing at the plaster cast from knee to toe, looking suspiciously as though he were about to mark it as his own. Bede gazed at the stiff lump that was his leg, the dull ache frustratingly encased out of reach, ironically less painful than the more minor injury of his wrist.
He thought about the weeks to come. Steve had phoned to express his sympathy and to reassure Bede that even if he was laid up for a while, he could still be involved with their new project, doing the calculations, dimensioning and design while Steve saw to the practical side. He’d probably intended to make him feel better, but in fact he felt trapped – however much he enjoyed all aspects of a project and its challenges, the prospect of being cooped up indoors filled him with claustrophobic horror.
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