Chapter 11
Avril and Alan have gone back to College for the first day of their new term and in a little over three weeks I will be off to University for year one of my veterinary course. I should be excited, even nervous. But all I can think about right now is Harrison Marsden’s operation. He’s a man I hardly know but I can’t shake off the thoughts of how Danny is likely to cope if things go horribly wrong at the hospital and I sit in our local coffee bar in the town musing over how he must be feeling at this moment. Pretty desolate no doubt. I want to have nasty satisfied thoughts about the man’s inner agonies but that kind of mean streak isn’t in my nature and more than anything else, I feel sorry for him. Even my plans to save the wood are getting shoved further and further into the back of my mind. I know that planting Roman Relics all over the site amounts to little more than a stay of execution for the place and the end result is bound to be the same. Right now, I feel about as small and ineffective against the man as a fly biting a bull behind the ear and any new ideas that do occasionally materialise, I discount as daft and doomed to failure. I was an irritating nuisance and nothing more.
“Cathy!” Says a voice from close by. I look up startled to find myself looking into a pair of thick pebble lens spectacles which make the wearer’s eyes appear huge and cartoon like. The big blue pools magnified out of all proportion jolt me instantly back to my childhood.
“Tony Wallace.” I gasp, when the shock has worn off.
“Got it in one,” He beams. “How are you?”
Gone is the short, unhappy bullied child and in his place stands a man, a gangly six feet plus. He still has the scholarly old worldly look about him and apart from the height and the three day stubble he looks much as he always did. Even the glasses are identical.
“I’m fine. Where have you been hiding all these years?”
Tony grinned and blushed madly as he slid in behind the plastic topped table opposite me.
“Studying for my masters in electronics.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I say. “You were terrible at maths as I recall.”
Tony laughs, the sound as loud and childish as a five year old at a birthday party. “Yeah I know. I guessed it would be a challenge and I wasn’t disappointed.”
We sit and talk about the old days until the conversation wends predictably around to the development of Becmead Woods and how we used to play there together as kids. Tony loved the place as much as I did.
“I had to come back and have a last look round before they rip it all up.” He says. “It’s been in most of the local papers round my way.”
“So you don’t live round these parts anymore?”
“No, I only come back every few weeks to see the family. Mum and Dad bought a smaller place near the train station in Newquay a few years back.”
I explain the latest developments to him, telling him more than I intend. It’s almost a relief to be able to share my worries with someone other than Avril, who although a good friend, is hardly level headed or sympathetic enough to listen to anyone rationally for any length of time. “And as for a final look round,” I sigh. “You’re too late. They’re already putting up a high steel fence to keep the likes of us yokels out. So unless you’re still a brilliant climber.”
Tony frowns and slips his glasses off, breathing noisily onto the lenses before cleaning them with a dirty hanky. “I can still climb for England,” He says, “but the problem is, what can I do once I get in there. The Roman Relics were a brilliant idea, but we need something else. We have to approach this one from a different angle.”
He seems funny lost in thought. Electronics have clearly sharpened his mental processes to a high degree and he frowns off into the distance until I feel compelled to say something.
“Any ideas you can come up with will be greatly appreciated.” I say. “I’m sure I’ve fried way too many brain cells fretting about what else I can do. Most of the locals have lost all interest and who can blame them. Mostly they’re too busy trying to feed their kids and pay bills without having to worry about some ancient wood that means nothing to them.”
Tony sighs. “Yeah, but it meant a whole lot to us. Remember how we used to look for the fairies that were supposed to live there? Your old man has a lot to answer for.”
We giggle inanely, recalling fruitless Sundays spent searching for the little people while my Father craftily had an hour or two reading his newspaper or sunbathing in peace. It somehow seemed wrong to tell Tony he’d died. He looks so happy, I decide to keep the bad news under wraps for now.
“It would be great if some of the little folk were to turn up now, just when we need them most.” I say, wishing intently, but knowing my thoughts are silly childish daydreams I’m already embarrassed at mentioning. We both smile ruefully until Tony’s expression hardens. His soft baby face replaced with a deadly serious look at odds with his easy-going personality.
“Tony. Are you all right?” I ask.
He slips his specs back on and the huge eyes look a little glazed. “What sort of man is he?” He asked after a long moment.
“Who?”
“This Marsden of course?”
I hesitate, knowing Danny and his own problems had seeped too far under my skin for me to be able to call him a sworn enemy. But I begin to talk about him, surprising myself at what I have gleaned about his life in so little time.
“That sounds like one very screwed up guy.” Tony says.
I nod “First he’s horrid and then he’s nice and then he’s trying to bite my head off for practically nothing at all. Then he’s normal again. He has a deep sensitive side too. I can feel it. But you’d need a rock hammer and a few sticks of dynamite to ever get to it. But why the interest in Marsden anyway?”
Tony lapses into another long thoughtful silence. “We need a miracle right? Well maybe I’m just the man you need to supply it.”
“Do go on.” I whisper, leaning forward and waving at the waitress for another two coffees. I listen as Tony outlines an idea that is bizarre even in comparison with my own outrageous daydreams and he uses the back of a napkin to draw diagrams I can’t understand to emphasise his point. Just trying to concentrate on what he’s saying proves well nigh impossible though. Like most boffin types he assumes I know a whole lot more than I do. But I soak up as much as I can as he speaks and concentrate instead on marvelling at him as a full grown man opposed to the child I knew so well.
His plan at least has a fighting chance and together we work out the smaller details and more importantly, the role I will have to play in the scheme. Tony leans back in the red plastic seat. “Try to stay close to him as much as you can.” He says, “I know it’s tough, but just remember it’s for a good cause. I’ll call him in the morning on some pretext or other. All you have to do is make sure you’re around the woods tomorrow at sun up.”
“At Sun up.” I gasp. “How the hell am I going to do that without looking suspicious? He’s already paranoid about me and he knows I tried to have him over with those Relics.”
Tony shrugs. “I’m stumped on that one, but I know you’re wily enough to come up with something. You always were cunning. The whole thing hinges on you being around him at the crucial time. If you’re not, it won’t work. Surely you could use some of your womanly charms on him?”
I grinned now. Danny was impervious to everything from womanly charms to nuclear warheads and the pressing problem of how I could stick close to him at such an hour at all dominated my thoughts for the rest of the day. Now it was do or die and if we failed, that would be it. There was simply no more time.
I reach Fulton Manor at a little after 7pm and the horrible thought that I may be about to barge in on a very sad scene filled me with such dread I seriously consider turning the bike around and heading home. But I’ve promised to visit and I know I have no real choice but to go on and I leave the bike at the side of the porch before pulling on the old fashioned do
orbell. The door is opened by Amanda, looking typically resplendent and certainly happier in a red silk dress and flat satin slippers.
“Hi.” She grins friendly, “I’m really glad you could come Cathy. Danny hasn’t got back from London yet and I’m frothing with the worry of it all. He and Greta were there as soon as the old man got out of the operating theatre.”
“And?” I ask breathlessly.
Amanda frowns as she leads the way into the large sitting room. “No news yet. The Doctors can’t tell us anything until the old man comes round and they do their tests on him to see what feelings he has in his legs. Walking will be out of the question for a while, but they reckon they’ll be able to tell if he’s going to be all right.”
“How can they know that until he tries to stand?” I ask.
Amanda smiles as she reaches for a half-empty vodka bottle. “Nothing more dramatic than a few well-placed jabs with a needle can you believe? Now how about a little drink? I was just about to have another one to steady my nerves.”
I shake my head but accept the cola can Amanda pulls from a small fridge behind the bar and I sit down sipping it while I watch her. Clearly she’s had more than a couple and I struggle to keep the concern away from my expression as the willowy blonde pours herself a huge Vodka Martini.
“Knowing Danny, he won’t dream of phoning to tell me what’s going on either.” She slurs. “He has to tell you everything direct. He seems to have some weird idea that when he tells you something on the phone, you can’t have understood it properly.”
I grinned. “Yeah that sounds like him all right.”
I’m soon getting the distinct feeling I’m sitting on something of an emotional time bomb right now in the Marsden house. Amanda has problems of her own and if Danny and his Mother walk in bearing bad news it could be a real rough night for all of us. I think fleetingly about getting Amanda to phone the hospital, but give up on the idea for fear of being thought too pushy. After all, I’m a stranger among them and the whole business has little to do with me.
As we sit together on the leather sofa talking, I jump as something white flies over my shoulder and lands on my lap.
“Hello little lady.” I beam, as a familiar fur bundle purrs happily and tries to climb up inside my jumper. Snowy is now sporting a ritzy diamond collar which identifies her as belonging to Amanda.
“Oh that’s lovely.” I say, rubbing the kitten’s ear. “It suits her somehow. How do you like her?” The kitten is a welcome diversion and gets us off the subject neither of us wants to think about.
“I call her Marsha.” Amanda giggles, “Does that sound too much for a cat? I never get her to myself that’s the only problem though. She’s all over Danny like a hairy rash every time I look around, aren’t you?” She strokes the underside of the little beast’s chin as she purrs fit to explode with happiness as we fawn over her.
I raise an eyebrow. “You mean Danny really does like her?”
“Sure he likes her. Why, did you think he’d eat her or something?”
“Well, a similar thought had crossed my mind.” I blush. “That man doesn’t come over as being any kind of animal lover.”
Amanda grins again. “You’ve got a lot to learn about Danny. He has a very soft centre, believe me. It’s just that his outer shell is so damn hard, no-one gets to see much of what’s inside.” She leaned forward then, serious now. “I can see you like him. And underneath that leathery exterior..”
“You’re not going to tell me there really beats a heart of gold are you?”
We both laugh. “No I wasn’t. I’m sure it’s in there somewhere mind you but he keeps it carefully locked away. That’s the sort of man he is. He tends to treat everyone as a business associate who needs watching like a hawk.”
I agree as the kitten struggles to break free and I put her down on the wooden floor and watch her as she loses no time in trying to yank out a leather fixing button from the sofa. I quickly spin her around and throw one of her many toys towards the centre of the room the hope she might lose interest in attacking the sofa. But she turns and immediately tries to disembowel my trainers with her tiny threshing hind legs.
“Of course Danny’s worse than ever these days,” Amanda continues. “What with the worry of his Father’s operation. He doesn’t seem to understand that Harrison’s got nothing to lose, even if it does go horribly wrong.”
“Danny told me it was a pioneering procedure.” I say, “Something never tried before in this country. I hope and pray it all works out.”
The girl lights a cigarette and takes a long draw before replying. “Fingers crossed. Up until recently there would have been no chance of the Doctors even taking a look as it’s far too dangerous. Something to do with bone and lead fragments pressing against his spinal cord. If one of them were to start moving about he could end up paralysed completely.”
“Lead fragments?” I say, recalling the reference to pellets Greta had made at the party.
“Yes, from the accident he had about fourteen years ago.”
I sigh inwardly and Amanda picks up on it right away. She gives me a quizzical sideways glance as I continue. “I know it’s none of my business, but Danny didn’t really tell me what happened to the old man. With a mind like mine it’s like having just one square of chocolate and getting no more. What exactly happened?”
The blonde furrowed her brow. Oh dear,” she says, playing with the ash in the ashtray. “It looks like I just blundered into a minefield again. I just assumed that you and Danny were..well, having some sort of relationship and that he must have told you.”
“Danny and me?” I laugh. It sounds hollow and fake in the quiet room. “No. Danny Marsden and I are way too different, despite his alleged soft centre.”
I hope the burning sensation in my ears is not as visible as it is uncomfortable. But if Danny is incapable of telling me the truth, Amanda would, especially now she’s relaxed and has been at the vodka martinis for a few hours. “So just what is the story?”
“All right.” She begins. “When Danny’s Father had made a lot of money he started off a children’s home back in the states, I was one of his first little customers.”
“You!”
“Yes me. The police at Chicago’s 17th precinct found me abandoned in their doorway one Sunday morning and took me to the home. I was four years old, just another sickly poor kid with no Mum and Dad. I needed an eye operation which cost thousands of dollars and Harrison paid for it. After that I grew up feeling I owed him so much for my own life. He and Greta even adopted me legally, put me through school and as soon as I got my degree I came straight back to work for him. That’s why, if he doesn’t make it, we’re all gonna be in a lot of bits round here.”
I lean forward and squeeze the girls’ thin hand as she goes on. “I don’t know how I’ll take it if the worst happens. I don’t know how any of us will take it. He’s as much my Father as he is Danny’s.”
I close my eyes, kicking myself for my stupid thoughts. Danny was right about one thing. I did always barge right in without thinking.
“I’m really sorry.” I manage.
Amanda lit another cigarette from the previous one. “Don’t be.” She drawls. “Danny’s like my own Brother and he’s also my idea of a real man. But you know what it’s like growing up with someone from an early age. You .” She smiled, a faraway look in her eye. “You tend to see them warts and all, so the magic’s all gone before it can start.”
I nodded but suddenly the girl looked deadly serious and she gripped my arm.
“It was an accident.” She hissed.
“What was?” I whisper.
“The old man was mad on clay pigeon shooting in his younger days. He couldn’t understand anyone who didn’t relate to guns in the same way as he did. He had Danny loving them too, long before he even started school. There’s a trunk full of trophies upstairs in the attic but none of us can look at them an
ymore.”
“Poor man.” I murmur. The thought of anyone spending over fourteen years in a wheelchair horrifies me and I guess I’d never have the strength to cope with it. Then I remembered something Danny had said to me the night I’d fallen into the pit in the grounds.
“I thought Danny hated guns? He was very vocal on that point as I remember. He literally exploded with rage when I made some snide little remark.”
Amanda nodded. “He hates them now all right and he won’t have one anywhere near him.”
“Because of what happened to his Father?” I nod, understanding. “So Harrison had an accident with one of his guns?” It’s getting harder to decipher Amanda’s slurred speech and the American accent doesn’t help me. She’s fidgeting too and playing manically with a stray curl in front of her eye.
“He was shot in the back, accidentally as he went to reload the clay thrower and a lot of pellets lodged in his spine.”
“Oh” I say, studying the pale face for more. Amanda fixes me with a stare and quickly looks around the room as if expecting someone to be creeping up on us.
“You may as well hear all of it.” She sighs, before walloping down the last half of her drink. “Danny did it.”
For a moment I wonder if I’ve heard her right.
“What did you say?”
The blonde girl speaks deliberately, slowly and quietly as if it was something she never wants to repeat again. “Danny shot his Father.” She says. “I don’t even know why I am telling you this, but for God’s sake don’t repeat it to anyone. Danny seems to like you and I get the distinct impression you like him too no matter how distant you try to be. So I guess he’ll tell you in his own good time, but until then, try to understand him and know what he must have been going through all these years. That’s why he can be such an odious pain in the butt most of the time. It’s all come to a head now because of this damn operation.”
I watch her shuffle over to the bar again. “I blame the old man.” She continues. “He blames himself come to think of it. It was a moment’s carelessness that nearly cost him everything. Danny was ten years old. He just picked up the shotgun. It was cocked with the safety catch off just begging to go bang. And it did.”
I close my eyes at the thought of what Danny and his Father must have been through in the years that followed. Marsden Senior carrying around his useless legs as a constant reminder of his own terrible folly and Marsden Junior torn up and twisted with his burden of guilt during his important formative years.
“Danny was totally devastated.” Amanda slurs. “I was just a barely a teenager, but I remember he was in hospital for weeks in deep shock. He didn’t even speak for six months and the Doctor’s said it was only because he was so young that he was able to shake off the bulk of it at all. He idolised his Father. That’s the way it always was. They were inseparable. Danny was their only real child and Harrison was immensely proud of him. I suppose Danny felt he’d let the old man down. Probably why he strives so hard to never fail at anything he’s doing. No matter how insignificant it seems.” Her voice trails off until it’s barely a whisper and she empties what’s left of the bottle into the glass. “He’s so torn up inside with worry it amazes me that he’s still able to function at all. If the operation’s a failure... Jesus H, I don’t even want to know how he’s gonna take it.”
I sit trembling, unsure if I can cope with this bombshell as Amanda drifts on into her own problems, mainly with her estranged husband. But for all the attention I can muster now, the girl might well be talking Swahili. I feel guilty as my wandering mind keeps dragging me back to Danny and the horrors that must have been living in his own mind for so many years.
Eventually I can stand no more and I stand up and cross the room, forcefully having to wrestle the new unopened bottle from Amanda’s grip.
“Sandwiches first Amanda.” I say looking into the worn green eyes. “What do you say?”
The girl seems a little surprised at being mugged in her own home but she nods and I help her into the kitchen and sit her down at the table. It’s a relief to be in the cooler air out here and I set to work making sandwiches and coffee. Amanda seems to sober up a bit, though neither of us feels very much like eating and we chat away in the Kitchen until the sound of a car’s tyres on the driveway gravel grabs our attention just after eleven pm. Amanda looks as if she was about to burst into tears as we both focus on the front door and I slip my arm around the thin waist.
“Just relax.” I find myself whispering, which seems a bit hypocritical considering my own legs tremble uncontrollably. Danny walks in a second later.
“Well?” Amanda demands without preamble. He comes over and put his huge arms around both of us. He looks worn out but he forces a small smile that gives nothing away.
“He still hasn’t come round yet” He says. “Mum’s by his bedside and the hospital are going to put her up for the night.”
“Didn’t they tell you anything at all?” I say.
“They reckon he has a great chance of recovery but until he wakes up they can’t be sure.”
Amanda dabs her eyes with a handkerchief that somehow looked ridiculously small for the task. “Why didn’t you stay too?”
“I was worried about you being on your own.” He says. “I thought Cathy might have gone home by now.”
“She’s been a Godsend tonight.” Amanda sniffed. “So there’s still hope?”
“I’d say it looks hopeful. But just don’t build your hopes up too high? Let’s just say it feels good, but there’s nothing certain about it either way.”
It’s easy to see he’s stressed beyond endurance despite the typically brave face he’s putting on. “I’m only worried in case they’re wrong or some other unforeseen event occurs which nobody considered. God, poor Mum. She looks wrecked, but she won’t leave.”
I make him a coffee and together we head through into the sitting room. I sit back on the sofa and he collapses wearily into the space beside me, his leg brushing against mine.
“And you won’t be pleased when I tell you that I had a team of archaeologists from London poking and prying all over the site this afternoon.”
I cringe inwardly, wishing he’d just shut up about the whole thing but eager not to have a row with Amanda so close by.
“And what’s more,” he adds. “The council have agreed to accept their findings.” He let the statement hang in the air for an insufferably long time.
“So, what was the verdict?” I ask eventually, unable to suffer the suspense any longer.
“There’s nothing there of course. It was a hoax as you well know. Isn’t that a big surprise Amanda?” He adds. She scowls at Danny by way of reply and I refuse to bite too, knowing the hoax would have been discovered sooner or later anyway. I smile at him as if graciously accepting defeat while hugging myself with the secret knowledge that I had one more card to play and what that card turned out to be would depend on Danny himself.
He seems taken aback with my apparent ease at hearing the bad news. “Well, what can I say to that Danny?” I say. “There are some really strange types out there.”
He pulls a face. “Yes, aren’t there!”
“Come on Danny,” Amanda says. “Let’s not ruin everything by you two fighting about that bloody place. I’m tired of it and I don’t want to hear another word about Becmead Woods. We’ve got far more important things on our minds right now, haven’t we?”
The make up around her eyes has smudged even more and it confirms the statement well enough.
“When will you know about your Father for sure?” I ask.
“Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”
I study him as he munches a cheese and pickle sandwich and he seems marginally brighter but he’s still dogged by the uncertainty of his Father’s condition and it shows. Despite our differences, I feel deeply sorry for him.
I announce my intention to leave at a little after eleven thirty.
Danny and Amanda would want to talk and it didn’t seem right to hang around any longer.
“You don’t really have to go do you Cathy?” Amanda sighs. “It’s great having you round. You could sleep over you know. We’ve got stacks of room.”
I smile, pleased that the girl who had at first seemed to have everything was not so different to myself underneath the exterior gloss.
“I really do have to get going.” I reply. “My Mother will be getting twitchy and I’ve a long day ahead of me at the ARC tomorrow. We’re a bit light on staff just now.” Amanda’s face fell a little more before I added, “But we can do this again any time you’re in the mood you know. Or maybe you’d like to get out of here for a while and come round to my place sometime. My Mother’s a great cook.”
Amanda brightened immediately. “Are you serious?” She beamed.
“Of course.”
“Thanks. I’d love it.”
Danny stood then and threw his jacket on. “I hope that invite includes me?”
I try to scowl at him but it’s getting harder and harder to keep up. “I suppose so,” I concede. “And where are you going now?”
“I’m running you home.. and now you’re about to say...”
“I’ve got the bike outside.” I grin, finishing the sentence. “Danny, you know that bike and me can never be parted. Now please, do yourself a big favour and get some sleep. You look wrecked.”
He throws an arm around me and the sudden closeness of him makes me feel as if I’m about to melt all over him. He’s a strange one all right. Talk about blowing hot and cold.
“Nonsense.” He says. “I think I’m still good for a little eight mile round trip?”
I shake my head. “I doubt that. Besides, shouldn’t you stay by the phone in case your Mother calls?”
My protests fall on deaf ears as usual and I say my farewells to Amanda as Danny steers me through the front door. It’s impossible to put him off though and deep down I know I don’t want to. But it will be tough making conversation with him now I know the truth about his Father’s accident. I shudder to think what he might do if he ever finds out Amanda’s spilled the beans on such a closely guarded family secret. I determined to keep my mouth shut about it forever if necessary.
“Danny, you don’t have to do this.” I protest. “I need the exercise. I’m sure I’ve put on weight since I met you.”
“If you want my opinion, and I guess you don’t,” he begins. “You don’t look in any fit state to go cycling anywhere. What the hell have you and Amanda been doing? I noticed the old vodka has been looted.”
I gulp. “Not by me, guides honour. I’m just a bit tired that’s all. We chatted and then spent a bit of time watching the shopping channel. All very innocent.”
“Ah yes.” He nods. “You can always tell when Amanda’s a bit down. An overlarge parcel from the shopping channel usually shows up containing an overpriced wealth of tat she doesn’t really need."
He grins easily. Even in the glow from the security lighting I can see it’s as if some evil demon has been partially exorcised from him or at least had a handful of salt thrown into its face. Danny knows his Father’s life lies in the hands of fate now and no amount of worrying will make a jots worth of difference. “Besides," he went on. “It’s too late for you to be cycling along these quiet lanes. There are a lot of maniac drivers about.”
I pull a face at him as he stows the bike into the raised tailgate. It’s been in the car so often, he no longer has to work out the best angle to stow it. The idea of sitting alone with him fills me with dread though and I so want him to confide in me as he does with Amanda, but I’m guessing that day will never come. I will be heading off to Uni soon while he moves on to pastures new. Maybe it’s for the best. Underneath my confusing attraction towards him, I’m still the enemy and we both know it.
I realise he’s talking as we head for the main gates but I can hardly focus on what he’s saying until the sharp night air bites me as I lower my window to wave back at Amanda who stands shivering on the porch. How could I have been so wrong about this girl who has enough troubles of her own? All she wants is to see Danny happy.
The air around us feels unnaturally silent and it reminds me of the humming silence that appears to come and go over at the fairy dell and I watch him as he carefully manoeuvres the car down the driveway towards the double wrought iron gates which are already swinging open. He pulls out into the lane and I note the weather has worsened in the four hours I’ve been at Fulton Manor and patchy mist rolls up from the sea in eerie ghost like clouds, turning visibility from hazy to dense and back again every few hundred yards. He drives slowly and I wonder again if it’s for my benefit or because he’s worried in case he should have an accident in his hyped up state. I study his rugged features picked out from the glow of the dashboard lighting when an ominous clunk sounds from beneath the car.
“Stop.” I screech. The warning’s unnecessary and we’re already sliding to a halt. I climb out and peer through the gloom before running back along the lane. Danny appears at my side with his trusty penlight and the beam illuminates the crumpled form of a fox. The injured animal manages to turn to face us, a terrified look in his bright green eyes, before he slumps onto his side, gasping for air as he teeters on the edge of consciousness.
“Oh no,” Danny moans. “I didn’t even see him.”
“It’s all right, I know.” I whisper quietly, unsure which of them to feel sorrier for. “This is one accident that has been unavoidable. “I know it’s a lot to ask right now, but will you help me get him back to the centre?”
“You mean...you think you can save him?”
“If we’re quick.” I reply.
“Of course I’ll take you,” he says, as if the request for his help is insulting. “I’ll get the rug from the back seat.”
He reappears seconds later and as he bent to scoop the animal into the blanket I grip his hands, noting that he’s left them exposed. There was never any certainty that the fox wouldn’t suddenly liven up and try to take a lump out of a piece of nearby flesh.
“Not like that,” I order. “Here, let me.” I take hold of the blanket and carefully wrap it around my hands like a fire blanket before covering the quivering animal. The fox is large and old and the weight of it threatens to topple me over before Danny comes to the rescue. Our hands touch as he takes the weight and for a moment our eyes lock as if seeing something in each other we hadn’t quite noticed before. He looks embarrassed, as if I’d managed to get a glimpse of his soul through a door he’d accidentally left ajar.
“I’ve got him now,” I say. “You hold the door open.”
Danny obeys my order and I gently lay the fox on the backseat. The beast has a jagged tear in his side but he’s not bleeding from the mouth, indicating at least there are no internal injuries. I stay with him as Danny guns the powerful motor in the direction of the centre. He checks his watch and a worried frown creases his features.
“Cathy are you sure you don’t want some professional help with this. I could ring the vet right now.”
“It’s all right.” I say. “I’ll be able to take care of it.” If Danny has any doubts about my abilities he hides them well and for once he appears to have lost his traditional haughty air and he says nothing. Only his eyes, hard and thoughtful can be seen in the rear view mirror and they’re giving little away.
Traffic’s non-existent at this late hour and we arrive at the ARC within minutes. This time Danny carries the fox as he’d been shown, watching the beast intently as he walks, careful not to trip on the uneven earth in the yard as I race ahead to unlock the door and flick the light switch. He lays it on the main inspection table as the animals in their cages stare at us, to see who has disturbed their sleep. The good light enables me to check the casualty properly and it’s easy to see the cut is not as deep as I’d feared and I inject him with a painkiller before disinfesting and stitching the
wound. Danny winces with every insertion of the needle but he stands firm and tries not to crowd me as I work. At last it’s done and I begin to apply a bandage to the damaged area. The animal begins to tremble, a sure indication of shock. But to the layman it looks worse than it really is.
“Come on Cathy,” Danny urged, desperation in the deep voice “Help him.”
I turn, surprised. “That’s all I can do for him now Danny.” I whisper. “It’s all anyone can do. He’s not injured inside but I’ll have to stay with him until the morning.”
“Good idea.” He says, softly stroking the helpless figure as it shakes under the blanket.
“Surely, you’re not staying too?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Are you telling me to leave?”
For a moment I stumble, looking for words. “Well no ...But..”
The idea of the great Danny Marsden acting as ambulance man is surprising enough, but sitting up all night monitoring an injured fox is incredible in the extreme. He’s staring at me again, the rugged face showing nothing but concern for the creature’s welfare.
“You mean... You’re going to give up a well-earned night’s sleep for this fox?”
“Yes, aren’t you?”
“Well yes...but that’s me...it isn’t you.”
“And how the hell would you know what’s me and what isn’t?” he demands. But the fox breaks the uneasy moment with a sudden gigantic convulsion before relaxing again. His laboured breathing and the buzz of the strip light above the only sound in the room. We both look down at him and appear to share the same thoughts. But he’s still fighting.
”The old guys are always the toughest.” I muse. “Now it’s just a matter of watching and waiting.” Danny’s powerful hand closes over mine and for once I don’t feel the inclination to snatch it away.
“I’ll make us some tea.” He says, scanning around for the required equipment. “I can do that at least.”
“I can do it.” I reply.
“No.” He orders. “You stay right where you are. You’re the expert and I don’t want you to leave his side. Besides, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do if he starts fitting or something.”
I grin broadly at him as he stands in the small kitchen area giving his orders. He’s still a finger pointer, a demander, even a bully. But something’s changed in him. Something subtle and hard to define.
“Stop grinning at me will you and pay attention to that animal.” He growls, as if reading my mind.
“Most dog foxes are as tough as old boots you know.” I say. “Besides, isn’t the worry of one old guy enough for you without having to fret about another one?”
He hesitates before answering. “Yes, I’m worried. But I’m not the sort to sit in a corner weeping about it. I know I have to be brave and for the first time in my life, I guess I don’t feel particularly brave. Somehow, that fox pulling through and being able to walk out of here under his own steam when the time comes feels strangely significant. And I know you of all people can understand that.”
I nod sadly as I recall the last painful year in my own life and hardly dare to dwell on the possibility of Danny having to go through the same trauma very soon.
He sets two steaming mugs of tea gently down on the corner of the table, well out of the way of jittery paws before letting me use his phone to ring and tell my Mother about the emergency. We sit and talk most of the night away, checking our victim every fifteen minutes until he falls into a deep natural sleep.
At a little after 5 a.m. the sound of Danny’s mobile phone pulls me out of the troubled slumber I must have fallen into an hour or so earlier. He’s still wide awake and watchful as ever and I feel a sudden shock at the realisation that I’d been laying with my head on his shoulder and he’d had his arms around me.
“Good morning.” He hisses, frantically fumbling with the accept button to shut off the aggravating ring tone. I hardly dare look at him, the significance of such a call at this early hour could be terrible news and the results are something I will have to deal with as best I can. I brace myself ready for the scream or the tears or the dogged silence or whatever it was people like Danny Marsden used to get through a traumatic event and I wait, staring at him intently as he speaks.
“Yes.” He says. A long moment follows before the familiar scowl appears. “What? Are you sure? Right, I’m coming straight over.”
He cuts off the call and I hardly dare look him in the eye. “Tell me?” I gasped.
He leans across the table and squeezes my hand gently. “It’s all right. It’s not the call I was expecting. But I do have to go.”
He stands and throws his jacket on.
“At this hour.” I say, confusion reigning supreme. “Where?”
“Over to the woods.” He growls. “But I’ll come back as soon as I deal with this.”
Alarm bells sound deep within me. I have completely forgotten about my conversation with Tony Wallace and the plan that has stemmed from it. My mind goes into a massive stall. “What’s happened anyway?” I ask. But Danny is already striding for the door and he isn’t saying anything. “Wait then,” I add. “I’ll come with you.”
“All right.” He says. “But what about our hairy friend?”
“He’s going to be fine.” I reply. “And he won’t be awake for a couple of hours yet.” I slip through the door behind him and lock it. With all the upset the previous night I’d clean forgotten what was on the agenda for today.
Make a Wish Page 11