Chapter 3
The bike could do with oiling and a serious hose down and I avoid looking down at it as I power through the six miles to Fulton Manor. I don’t want to think about Avril’s plan either as I know it won’t take much to make me forget about the whole thing and turn back. A definite chill hangs in the air and a fine sea mist rolls eerily across the quiet lanes, making riding hazardous and uncomfortable. The narrow road slopes downhill for a while and although it makes riding less arduous, the chill becomes more noticeable the faster I go.
It’s easy discussing hare-brained schemes in the quiet cosy atmosphere of a saloon bar, but out here in the dark and the cold they never seem nearly so clever and I keep my head down, concentrating on the journey as I battle the familiar ache in my knees, allowing my anger to boil up inside me as a source of extra energy. Even in the darkness, the deep scratches on the crossbar are easy to spot and bad enough to allow the aluminium frame to show through. Revenge on Danny Marsden will be sweet indeed.
Within thirty minutes the Manor looms. The place is ancient and as old as the village itself and sits up on a slight hill. Its massive outline clearly silhouetted by a near full moon. I pedal slowly past, taking in as much detail as possible through the imposing wrought iron gates. The mist gives everything a sinister, unreal quality and the sprawling, overgrown grounds are guarded by huge trees, their limbs twisted into outlandish shapes by over a century of strong sea winds. It all looks about as inviting as a graveyard after midnight and a place where no one in their right mind dares to tread after dark.
Half hoping Avril and Alan have got involved in something far more enjoyable and might have forgotten our date, I head on to the blackened scrub where the barn once stood and I wait behind one of its ruined walls. But my hopes are dashed when I spot Alan’s battered hatchback pulling off the road fifty metres away from me. He carefully shunts it back and forth until it’s hidden among the trees, making the blue steel invisible to any passing traffic. Not that there’s even an occasional car to break up the humming silence that sits over the place like a damp blanket.
He flashes his hazard warning lights and only the sound of my own breathing breaks up the almost perfect still as I pedal over to the car’s open window.
“Didn’t think you’d come,” Avril whispers. She looks faintly comical, sitting well down in the seat like some daft secret agent, wearing black leather gloves and a black scarf pulled up around her mouth.
“I bought this gear in Anderson’s,” She said. “Do you like it? The scarf’s real silk you know?”
“Really?” I gush. “I’m sure that’ll make a hell of a difference in court.”
Avril scowls before rounding on Alan, her voice muffled. “You can stop grinning too. There’s no reason not to look the part you know. Now remember, Marsden might have a security guard prowling about in there so watch your step.”
I shudder, the possibility of security men hadn’t dawned on me.
“Chain your bike up to one of the trees over the back there Cath.” Alan whispers. “And make sure it can’t be seen.”
I wheel the bike in the direction indicated, but a bad feeling spreads through me as I chain it up out of sight among a clump of aged greenery. Tonight has a strangely ominous air about it that’s hard to ignore. I have the weirdest feeling of being watched and we’re not even inside the grounds yet. The house is surrounded by fields on three sides with the quiet lane passing by its front and Alan leads the way cross country to where he considers the best place to get inside.
“I had a walk round here a few weeks ago at about this time of night and it all seems pretty dead,” He whispers over his shoulder as we follow. “There are no lights on at the front of the house at all and with any luck, Marsden will be out living it up with the rest of the wasters.”
Avril’s eyes gleam and her voice cuts through the still air like a fog horn. “Won’t he get a shock when he gets back?”
“Shhhhh,“ Alan hisses, ignoring her hostile expression as we approach the low back wall raised up to a height of around 12 feet by green chain link fencing. There’s little point in expecting Avvie to do any climbing and Alan sets to work with a pair of mini bolt cutters, snipping the wire into a neat vee shape. He stoops to push his slim body through the resulting slit with ease but Avril, although slim herself, is not quite as agile and the jagged edges tear at her clothes and hair.
“You idiot,” She curses loudly. “I shall get filthy.” Alan turns to pull while I get one free hand on her well rounded rear end and push while keeping the other tightly clamped over my mouth to prevent myself erupting into helpless laughter at the dizzy blonde’s’ ridiculous position.
“Oh do shut up Avvie,” Alan hisses. “Maybe you’d like me to nip around the front and open the main gates for you?” He peers nervously into the gloom behind him as he speaks and I find myself staring too. It looks creepy in there and it’s easy to imagine eyes peering at us from the blackness. Images of cranky old black and white horror movies race into my mind but I shake them off. My eighteenth birthday is long past now, I reason. And I’m afraid of nothing. But the affirmation does little to soothe my jangling nerves. At last we’re inside and scouting around as we try to work out where the animal holding sheds are.
“Follow me.” Alan says boldly, striding off to the left when we fail to find them. We follow but it’s hard stay with him as he’s pretty hyped up and hasn’t made allowances for Avril, who strolls around as if she was visiting the local boutique for more designer gear. Her sense of danger appears to be non-existent and we both know her too well to think it’s bravery.
The sound of dogs barking somewhere ahead cuts through the still causing us all to stop dead. Avril puts her hands to her heart. “Oh my God,“ she gasps, the need for silence deserting her again. “Dogs, they’ve got dogs! Let’s get out of here.” She runs straight back into me, sending me tumbling into a dense clump of shrubbery where I bang my head on an ancient tree stump that feels as hard as iron. Alan is calmer and he hauls me upright and together we tear after Avril. Shrieks of “Help Me” guide us to the exact spot where we find her again caught amongst the severed wires of the fence. The sound of the dogs crashing through the vegetation somewhere behind us grows louder and Alan grabs her round the waist to pull her back inside.
“It’s too late Avvie.” he gasps. “We can’t go that way, they’re too close. We’ll have to run them round and then come back.”
We scatter and Alan instinctively stays close to Avvie as we flee the open ground just inside the perimeter and dart in among the trees. I assume the pair are running parallel with me but with all the zigzagging and thrashing through the dense undergrowth that doesn’t seem to have been pruned anytime in the last century, it’s hard to know just where they are. I crouch down and wait straining my senses for anything that might spell danger. But all remains deathly quiet and I’m guessing Alan and Avril are doing the same thing close by.
I wait until the silence becomes deafening and I can stand no more of it. “Avril, Alan.” I hiss as loud as I dare. Despite my heart hammering hard enough to pop I’m still confident of being able to outrun any middle aged security men who might be on the prowl. But the idea of being ripped to shreds in the darkness by vicious attack dogs fills me with dread and I risk a louder call.
“Avril, Alan. Where the hell are you? Stop kidding around. This isn’t funny.”
No sooner have I spoken than a twig cracks loudly nearby, the sound as sharp as a shot from a .22 rifle. I get down further and can feel some sort of sticky goo seeping into the knees of my jeans as I strain for further sounds that might spell danger. An age seems to pass until I’m certain someone is standing in the blackness a few feet in front me and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle until I can stand the spooky silence no longer. I bolt, still hunched over, away from the area, my feet causing dead twigs to crack beneath them with appalling volume until I’m sure every security man
must be zeroing in on me from all directions. Close to panic, I plough through a clump of bushes and hear my jacket shred as it snags in a hundred different places on invisible thorns. I force myself onward, constantly peering into the darkness behind me. I fail to spot a low branch a little further on and it smacks me on the forehead. I fall, badly winded onto my back. Too afraid to call out now I can feel a warm trickle of blood running into my left eye and I wipe it away with a sleeve.
My instinct to escape is still strong though and I scramble back onto my feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head. I manage to stagger, panting and confused into a small clearing, relieved to be away from the trees that seem to sidle up to me every time I stop for breath. I’m certain someone or something is in there waiting to leap out at me at any moment and I wait, my heartbeat hammering out its frantic pulse in more parts of my body then I’d ever have believed possible. I get my breath back to near normal and run again, intending to head for the next copse of trees but almost at once the ground gives way beneath my feet and I feel myself falling into a deep black pit.
Any thoughts on the need for silence evaporate as I scream in terror until the impact as I hit the ground, knocks the remaining breath out of me. I lay for a few minutes hardly daring to move before feeling around in the darkness to discover I have landed on a soft bed of leaves and straw at the bottom of a deep wide hole. But soon the pressing problem of how to get out of it again takes over and a close examination confirms that the sides are sheer and stretch up to over twice my height. There is no way out. I’m trapped and I teeter on the edge of blind panic, desperately trying to think in straight rational lines before succumbing to futile attempts to run up the vertical sides of my prison. At last, close to exhaustion and helpless sobs I collapsed onto my back. I think about my Father and I think about dying myself.
A dark menacing figure appears silhouetted against the starry sky above, at the holes edge. He is looking down, searching in the inky blackness all around me and I clamp my lips tightly together in a fruitless attempt to kill the sound of my laboured breathing. But it’s impossible and I’m soon gasping for air and my heart seems to be hammering loud enough for anyone in the district to hear. A bright shaft of light cuts through the darkness and the beam burns my eyes as it picks out my prone helpless figure.
“Well, well, what have we caught here?” A deep familiar voice says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a vicious looking brute.”
I raise my arm to blot out the light, but the wave of relief that sweeps over me far outweighs my inner rage at being caught in such an embarrassing position by Danny Marsden.
“You get me out of here this minute,” I manage.
“It speaks.” Danny says. “Who would believe such a thing? This one will be worth a fortune. I could tour the world with such a fine exhibit.”
He’s enjoying himself immensely and I remain still, knowing I’m totally at his mercy. It’s easy to imagine the black eyes glinting in the darkness. The man is so cruel and I can feel him watching me as I haul myself upright, my aching legs a long way down on my list of priorities. “Get me out,” I demand. “Or I’ll start screaming rape.”
I hear him chuckling quietly to himself, no doubt loving every minute of his game.
“Go ahead.” He replies. “Scream all you like. No one will hear you.”
A sudden chill passes through me and my imagination soon races away in all directions. “I’m not alone you know.”
“Yes you are I’m afraid. Your two friends managed to discover that the back gate was unlocked. Looks like you took a wrong turning.” He laughs again, mocking me, knowing I can do nothing.
“Just you bloody well get me out of here, this instant. Do you hear me?”
“Tut tut. Manners,” he replies lightly. “Isn’t there a little word we’ve forgotten?”
I could think of plenty that could apply to Danny Marsden, but it’s unwise to use them with the deck so badly stacked against me. I bite my lip until it hurts worse than my legs.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
I glower up at him, my eyes burning and watering under the strong glare from the lamp. I feel like a tiny mouse being played with by a very large cat. “What do you want me to say, damn you?”
He thinks for a moment. “Why don’t you try something like, Please Mr Marsden Sir? Help me out of here. I really am a stupid little fool.”
I have no chance of wriggling out of this without grovelling to the monster but I console myself with the thought that revenge will be sweet when my chance comes. I simmer in silence for what feels like a week.
“Well, I’m waiting?” He says.
I gulp down what little pride I have left. “Please Mr Marsden, get me out,” I pause. “I really am a stupid little fool.”
“There now.” He says. “That wasn’t too difficult was it? The truth can be so uplifting.”
I ignore him, afraid to say more in case my temper betrays me and Danny Marsden leaves me down here as some kind of warped punishment. He moves silently away from the edge of the hole and everything goes quiet and dark again. He’s gone. Left me alone with whatever’s crawling around down here for company and I shut my eyes, trying to fight off horrible visions of huge insects, more at home in the Brazilian Rain forest, crawling all over me. Shivering and ordering myself not to call out to him, I wait until at last the light returns and something slithers down the earth wall to my right. Danny manoeuvres the torch beam to illuminate a rope with fat knots tied into it every foot or so. I climb it quickly, overjoyed to be free at last. The overwhelming desire to escape giving my arms strength they had not felt for a long time. I guess the rope would be secured to a nearby tree but am surprised to see Danny had simply wrapped the other end of it around his free arm, supporting my body weight without having to lean back. He stands grinning in amusement as he scoops me up close to him with his free arm and eyes my dishevelled state.
“Don’t you own any clean clothes?” He asks innocently.
“How dare you!” I bark, pulling away from him.
“How dare I?” His eyebrows rise in disbelief. “How dare I rescue you from a damp dark place where you were frightened and all alone?”
“You know what I mean? Don’t play games with me.”
“So, you didn’t want to be rescued. Why didn’t you say that earlier? In that case, I shall drop you back down there until morning.” He raised an arm, an evil gleam in his eye as he made a playful swipe for me but I leapt past him, just missing the hole’s edge as I touch down, performing frantic windmills until I got my balance under control, narrowly avoiding plummeting back down into the void. He turns, grinning madly and makes another lunge.
“Don’t you come near me, you maniac?” I shout. “What in hell’s name is that hole doing here? You dug it with the sole intention of trapping people didn’t you?”
He comes in close, cutting off all avenues of escape with his huge frame.
“I haven’t got the time or the energy to dig a hole this size simply in the hope of catching the occasional trespasser.” He drawls. “This pit represents a week’s labour. Something you should try one of these days.”
I glare at him but he has the advantage of having my heels inches from the edge and being able to stand behind the light, making him virtually invisible.
“You’re lying. It can’t be legal.” I say.
“For your information, this hole was out dug by a local farmer two weeks ago. Some of his sheep have been killed recently and he thinks it might be a wild cat. My Father allowed him to dig this pit because there’s a possibility the predator cuts through here to get to his land. Satisfied?”
I look for another angle. “It’s dangerous, someone could fall into it. Someone did.”
“Yeah, I suppose trespassers, vandals and people generally up to no good could fall into it. People who have no right to be here. People such as yourself.”
“You’d better come back to the house.” He says, peering at my scratched face and gashed head. “I’ll patch that up for you.”
I hesitate. At this moment I just want to run away from him, find the tear in the fence and get away home. But I need help. I can still feel the blood running down my face and daren’t look down at the rest. All I can think about is Mother seeing me for the second time in one day, the victim of another accident and this time covered in blood too. I’m certain I’ve fractured my skull too on the tree bough and right now, there doesn’t seem much of a choice but to accept his offer.
“All right.” I murmur.
“I’ll lead, you follow,” he orders.
Thankfully he averts the torch beam to illuminate a slight path amongst the dense vegetation. “You’d better stick close.” He says over his shoulder. “We don’t want any more little mishaps do we?”
I ignore him and simply stare into his broad back as we head towards the house.
The grounds are huge and we walk for several minutes before coming to a wide clearing in front of the building. At its centre, a large circle had been asphalted over and a long way over to the right I spot a giant wooden animal shed that had been divided up into sections. One side of it is covered in the same type of thick wire mesh Alan cut through earlier. It’s empty and I silently curse Avril for bringing me out on another wild goose chase. So much for her friends in the Animal Rights crowd. Danny Marsden escorts me through the back door and on into the kitchen.
Inside, it’s large and old fashioned. Very dark with an oak beamed ceiling and a black iron range sited beside a large modern cooker. He indicates the wooden kitchen table and chairs that dominate the room and I sit, taking in my surroundings while he breaks open a comprehensive looking first-aid box and begins dabbing at my wounds with a mild disinfectant. Now I can see him in proper light I note he’s dressed casually in an old lumberjack shirt, jeans and working boots. There’s a quiet confidence about him as he works, as if he’d done it all before and I notice his for the first time his hands are large with wide veins running along the backs. Workman’s hands and not the sort normally associated with the idle rich. Whenever I look at him he seems to be wearing that infernal grin, as if he’s dealing with some naughty schoolgirl.
“Ouch!” I lie, determined not to allow him the satisfaction of a job well done.
“Don’t ouch me,” he growls, his voice hard and even. “You were the one silly enough to go blundering about out there at night without as much as a penlight. What did you expect? You didn’t get this cut by falling into that pit.”
“No. I hit it on an overhanging bough.”
Danny pulled a face. “Really. Quite the little commando aren’t you?”
“How did you find us anyhow?” I demand, fed up with his snide remarks. He seems to be much too close now and the closeness of him makes me strangely uncomfortable. As he works on the deep scratch running down the side of my forehead I notice small details about his face. One of them is a small scar about two centimetres long running along the left side of his jaw. It looks old and faded.
“I didn’t have to find you.” He says. “My Father’s very security conscious. The second thing he had put in after raising the back wall when we came here six months ago was closed circuit TV and alarms. Don’t tell me your little band of brothers failed to spot them?” I bit my lip lightly. We’d failed to spot cameras although it explained my earlier feeling of being watched as he went on. “I locked onto you as soon as you were inside the fence. An ultra sonic alarm followed by automatic camera scan. I didn’t even have to get up out of my armchair.”
He finishes off his work with two plasters that are too large for the injuries they cover and he stands back to admire his handiwork. “You little fool.” He says, “You might have been killed out there.”
I laugh now. My bravado back in full swing now I’m safe. “I think I can cope with falling into a pit full of soft leaves and straw don’t you?”
Danny nods as he puts the first aid box away up on a high shelf. “Yes you could. But I wonder how you would have coped if the creature that killed Farmer Bryson’s sheep had fallen right in right on top of you.” He turned, the dark eyes boring into me, making me squirm. “When I think of what might have happened to that poor beast I could weep!”
He laughs and I have to keep my face rigidly cold, swallowing the urge to laugh myself as he strolls over to me with a small glass of brandy, holding it out to me as he looks deep into my eyes.
“I don’t drink.” I say.
“Go on,” he orders. “It’ll steady your nerves.”
“I don’t drink. And there is nothing the matter with my nerves, thank you.”
He shrugs and takes a gulp from the glass himself. “You’ve had a shock you know. You may not think so, but your body will show some sort of side effects. One drink won’t kill you.”
“I never touch the stuff.” I reply flatly, determined not to let him browbeat me into anything just because he has the advantage.
“So drinking doesn’t fit in with your high ideals, is that it?”
“Yes I do have high ideals, unlike some people who appear to have none whatsoever.”
Danny grins again. “Meaning me I suppose?”
I say nothing as he slides his large frame up onto the corner of the kitchen table. He looks so different without the armoured grey suit. Almost normal. “If I have none, why didn’t I just turn around and leave you to your fate in the pit?”
I search for a plausible answer. “Because you wouldn’t want my body found down a big illegal hole on your land for one thing. There would be the most awful stink. Conservationist found dead at the Marsden place. That would make a lovely headline.”
“But you might never have been found.”
“Alan and Avril would have told someone.”
He drained the glass. “Alan and Avril. So that’s their names. Thank you for telling me.”
I mentally kick myself for the slip. Even a drunken Avril would never have dropped a clanger like that.
“You think pretty highly of your friend’s don’t you?” He says.
I don’t trust this change of tack, preferring a straightforward argument any day. “Yes.”
“They have high ideals too?”
“Of course.”
“Yet they leave you to fall into a dark pit where you could have broken your neck and then make off without even attempting to find out what happened to you?”
“They were scared.” I reply. “And they didn’t know I’d fallen into the pit. We all heard dogs barking and they ran for it.”
“You ran too.”
“Yes.” I agree, hating the idea of his getting satisfaction from knowing I was running scared out there in the darkness, a typically terrified teenager.
He leans close, his knees brushing against mine and I feel unable to move, as if I’d been glued to the chair by an electromagnet. I’m sure now he means me no physical harm but still feel threatened and invaded by him. I concentrate on my breathing, trying to shut out his forbidding presence and right now it’s about as much as I can do. The clean outdoor smell coming from him fills my head, making me dizzy all over again. I’m shocked and afraid at the odd, puzzling feelings that seemed to pulse through me and I avoid the steely gaze, trying to look as calm and laid back as possible.
“You should get a Doctor to look at that head you know.” He gently brushes my hair back from the plaster as he scrutinises me for any more damage.
“Yes, I’ll do that,” I croak, shaking him off.
“You’ll do it now, tonight. I’ll take you to the hospital myself.”
“I’m fine.”
�
�Have you taken a look at yourself? You can’t leave here looking like that.”
I look down at my dishevelled state, noting for the first time that the carnage is far worse than the afternoon’s calamity. Going home looking like a battlefield casualty twice in one day was really stretching credibility too far and a new rule about not going out after dark will probably be introduced, leading to another boring, very depressing summer. My Mother and Danny certainly have one thing in common. They both appear to view me as a silly child with my head in the clouds and with nothing better to do than make a nuisance of myself.
“You can use the bathroom.” He adds. “There are fresh towels up there and I’ll look out something of Amanda’s you can borrow. You’re both about the same size. Skinny.”
I squirm then. I hadn’t considered there might be other people around. “I hope I’m not intruding on anything.”
He smirked, reading my mind. “No, the rest of the upper class money grabbers are out for the evening. So we’ve got the place all to ourselves.”
I don’t like the tone one bit but right now I have to use his bathroom and we both know it.
“And I am not skinny.”
Danny grins but says nothing in reply before walking over to the door leading into the house. He points to the stairs. “Don’t worry, there’s a good lock on the bathroom door. Second on the right at the top of the stairs.” He doesn’t step back as I squeeze past him and again fixes me with that cool aloof look that aggravates me so much.
Upstairs the bathroom is large and functional and the first noticeable thing is a distinct lack of clutter. This is clearly a man’s bathroom, save for a little white plastic cabinet that looks like some sort of shrine to womanhood among the clean bare lines of the room. The bath is an odd shape too, bulbous at the middle with more normal dimensions at either end. I grin at myself in the mirror as thoughts on what the idle rich might get up to in the privacy of their own bathrooms flashed through my mind. But there’s no time to linger on it. I shower and treat myself to some expensive shampoo and conditioner I find and when I’m nearly done, Danny calls through the door to tell me he has left clothes outside.
“Thanks.” I reply, anxious at having to unlock the door to get them and relieved to find he’s nowhere around when I do. I struggle into designer jeans carrying a name I’ve never heard of. Clearly, they’re expensive and look as if they’ve been handmade for a skeleton. I’m slim and waif like myself but these look as if they would only fit one of those ultra tiny girls you see on catwalks the world over. There’s also a blue embroidered denim shirt. It’s not my sort of gear at all and too flash for one thing. The kind of get up an American would wear and it feels as tight against my body as the jeans. Horrified at the awesome swelling effect it has on my chest, I vow to get my jacket back on at the first opportunity.
Amanda. Who is she? Danny’s girlfriend or maybe his wife? No, I correct myself. Danny Marsden’s way too nasty and selfish to be married.
I eye myself critically in the steamy mirror as I brush my damp spiky black hair. Perhaps Mother’s right, the recent post hospital hair cut does look a little severe.
Danny’s voice crashes through my thoughts. He is calling from the foot of the stairs and I open the door before stepping out onto the landing.
“Wow.” He smiles. “So there is a girl in there after all. I was beginning to wonder.”
At this moment it’s hard to remember he’s the enemy. The man who’s about to sweep away my happy childhood memories with his bulldozers and earthmover’s. Walking slowly down the stairs, concerned at the odd expression on his face as he watches my progress, I feel compelled to say something.
“What did you think was in here?”
“I don’t know.” He laughs. “When I first saw you today on that bike of yours I thought you were a fella.”
I refuse to let the desire to punch him in the mouth anywhere near my hands. “Did you?” I reply coolly. “Well, I’d say that sounds like a deep psychological problem of your own and nothing to do with me.”
He shoots me an unfathomable look before leading the way back into the kitchen, where he offers food which I refuse and coffee which I accept. There’s no point in being too horrid to him as I have got myself into this mess and he’s got me out of it. There could be no arguing that. I swallow the brown liquid down, it’s not sweet enough for me but I don’t complain and instead concentrate on having to face the inevitable apology.
“Look Danny.” I say at last. “I feel I must apologise for ruining your evening.”
“Wow.” He says. “That’s the second surprise of the night. An apology! But let’s forget it.” He approaches again to eye the scratch on my head. “That is beginning to swell up you know?”
“Yes I know, I can feel it.”
“You have to go to the hospital.” He replies. “You might have got dirt in there. I’ll run you over to the general.”
The mention of being run over anywhere in Danny’s car brought the afternoon’s memories rushing back.
“No thanks. I seem to have been run over once already today in that car. I’ll go on my own if you don’t mind.” I wonder what Alan and Avril might say if they see me leave the Manor in the Marsden all terrain vehicle.
He retreats. “As you wish. I can see you’re the type who has to do everything their own way and usually make things a darn sight worse in the process.”
“No, it’s not that.” I reply, at a loss to explain my reasons to him. I drain the cup and stand.
“And as for this afternoon’s accident.” he adds. “I still say you caused it yourself. But just to show there are no hard feelings on my part, I’m prepared to replace your bicycle.”
“It was extremely expensive.”
“Not a problem. How much?”
“There’s no real damage.” I lie, avoiding his gaze. “Just a couple of scratches. But that bike is quite..... Irreplaceable.”
“You mean the cost? I told you it really doesn’t matter. I don’t mind if it was.”
I shake my head, loathing myself and him for making me think about things I’m worn out with mulling over. “It was my Eighteenth birthday present.” I manage at last. “I got it... Just before my Father.. went. And yes it was expensive. Quite a bit more than he could afford at the time.”
“Went?” Danny repeats. “Went where?”
“Well, died if you must know.” I stop speaking momentarily, knowing I will gladly die myself than ever shed a tear in front of this man.
“How old are you?” He asks, in a tone approaching kindness.
“I’m almost nineteen.”
He looks a little confused for the first time since I’d met him and his expression tells me he knows he’s blundered into a bad place. He speaks slowly as if hunting for words, the glib expression gone.
“So he was...how old when...”
“Forty nine. Cancer actually, of the stomach.” I hurry the words out, not wanting them loitering in my mouth for too long. “It wasn’t very nice for him and it wasn’t nice for us to watch either. That’s my Mother, my sister and me.. especially towards the very end.”
I half expect Danny to have the familiar condescending sneer back in place but to my amazement he seems be about to burst into tears and he quickly shakes it off before standing and turning his back on me. Mr Marsden really is full of surprises.
“I’m sorry.” He manages. “I didn’t mean to pry into your personal circumstances. I understand how you must feel. Look,” he adds, turning. “At least let me walk you to the gate. I really wouldn’t want you hurting yourself again.”
“There’s nothing you’d like better than to see me disappear permanently down one of your holes Danny. After all, people like me are a real pain in the arse to people like you.”
“You’re wrong you know.” He says, smiling again, “I wouldn’t like that at all. People like you keep people like me on my toes.”
“No thanks. I’ll go on my own,” I reply forcefully, allowing him no room for further offers. He stops just as we reach the gate and quickly turns before gripping my upper arms. He swings me round to face him and I find that being this close to him my head appears to be level with his chest, making me feel about as significant and as a ten year old. The power in his fingers is startling.
“Why don’t you give it up Cathy?” he whispers.
“Give what up?” I reply, struggling to break out of the fearsome grip.
“You know what I’m talking about. All this foolish behaviour. It really isn’t you?”
At last I manage to break away and back away from him. “And what gives you the right to advise me on what to do?”
“I’m just trying to give you some friendly advice that’s all. If you want to protest about something, use the proper channels. That’s what they’re there for. You were lucky it was me you ran into tonight. One of these days you’re going to run into someone who won’t mess about.”
“Well, thank you for the advice Mr Marsden.” I reply, sarcasm dripping off every word. “But I’ll do things my own way and I’ll thank you to keep your advice to yourself.”
“All right,” he replies, after a moment’s thought. “Just remember, there’s more ways of protesting than breaking windows just as there are more ways of taking out an enemy than bashing them over the head with a piece of lead piping.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me now?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t make me take you out of the game Cathy.” He says. “As much as I like you, if you force me to do it, I will.”
I throw my nose in the air and strut away towards my bike. Hoping it’ll still be where I left it. “Goodnight Mr Marsden.”
Make a Wish Page 3