Head Wound Page 21

  ‘To be brutal, I’d tell her to talk to a lawyer. He’s up to something, Jane. Looks smug sometimes but scared out of his wits others. If I were her I’d empty their account and talk about divorce.’

  ‘Any idea what the something is?’

  He paused while our plates were cleared. ‘How much do you know about them?’

  I shrugged. ‘I’m going to be their new neighbour, once both our houses are repaired. The village grapevine told you about their tree? We’d talked over the fence; Joy came to stay when her house become uninhabitable; Ken, who’d been on a model boat jaunt, came and joined her but was carted away in the night with acute diverticulitis. Then they invited me to a drinkies party at their new temporary pad, in an amazing building owned by a man called Tony Carpenter. Do you know him? No? Anyway, party or not, she seemed very much on edge. But all she would admit to was worrying she wasn’t paying the waiters enough.’

  ‘Waiters?’

  ‘I try to be gender-free. Pretty waitresses from Eastern Europe. I think she slipped them some more cash when Tony, who’d recruited them on the cheap, wasn’t looking. In other words, she’s a kind woman. She kidnapped me wonderfully when—after …’ For a moment he seemed about to take my hand; he ended up patting my arm, as I would a kid who needed a bit of sympathy. ‘And then we had a nice time today, most of the time, till champagne helped her open up a bit about Ken, who’s on another of his jaunts.’

  ‘Do you get the sense that his model boat trips are getting more frequent?’

  ‘I’ve not really known them long enough to know. But you do?’

  ‘I have this terrible fear he’s – I don’t know – doing something else. Something else as well, maybe. I don’t know. I’m not ready to confront him, being a bit of a coward, and I’m certainly not willing yet to take it to Elaine.’

  ‘What do you think the something else might be? Are you afraid it might be connected with …?’ I didn’t need to spell it out.

  ‘Dear God, I hope not.’

  ‘The funny thing is,’ I said slowly, sipping water as if to clear my head, ‘that—no, I’m seeing conspiracies where there may be none.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘He seems to have been encouraging my friendship with Joy. I’ve no idea why – he and I have scarcely exchanged a word. But he’s suggested I should stay with her, for instance, when he’s been boating – or whatever.’

  ‘Just being a decent husband, maybe?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Come on, Jane, you’re very shrewd – I’ve seen you in action, remember – and something is troubling you, however nebulous.’

  It was the last word that clinched it. ‘Foxes, Rufus. Do you know anything about them?’

  He laughed out loud. ‘Er … No. Why?’

  I spread my hands. ‘I lived in towns and cities for years. And though I saw lots I never heard one screaming. I’ve only seen a couple down here, but they seem amazingly vocal. Allegedly.’

  ‘Aren’t they supposed to scream like humans?’

  ‘What if it’s humans screaming like foxes?’ I asked quietly. But raised a hand to stop him replying. Our food was coming.

  It wasn’t the young waiter who’d taken our order who brought it, but someone I knew – a tall, heavy, bearded guy in his later forties or fifties; he looked remarkably like the pictures of W. G. Grace.

  ‘Dom,’ Rufus greeted him, rising and giving him a man-hug. ‘Dom, thanks for fitting us in. This is my friend Jane, who—’

  I was on my feet too, being bear-hugged.

  ‘I didn’t recognise you in your glad rags, Jane! How are you doing? Last time we met she was disallowing a dodgy catch and letting me get my fifty, Ruf,’ he explained, over my shoulder. ‘Oh, one of my specials on the house tonight!’

  I was laughing: ‘The fielder had both his feet over the boundary rope! And in the old days he wouldn’t even have appealed!’

  ‘Well, I’m your devoted servant for life. Never got a half-century before and I doubt if I will again.’ He pulled the chair out slightly and settled me back in. ‘And here’s Karen with your veg. Enjoy while it’s still hot.’

  ‘Just before you go, Dom – what do you know about foxes?’ Rufus asked.

  ‘There are more of them than before the ban, I’m told – not that I have any opinion to offer about hunting, of course,’ he added with an air of conscious virtue. ‘I’ve seen the odd corpse on verges, but that’s all.’

  ‘You’ve never heard them?’

  Dom looked blank. ‘Doing what? Singing the “Hallelujah Chorus”?’

  ‘Barking?’ I said vaguely. ‘Calling to each other in the mating season?’

  ‘They do it with eHarmony these days,’ he declared.

  ‘Of course,’ I groaned. After a decent interval I continued, ‘Screaming? I’ve heard them back in Wrayford – seen them once or twice. And they sound horribly like humans, to be honest.’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re thinking about that bad business the other day?’

  Rufus replied, ‘It was Jane who carried Lules away from … it. So she saw everything.’

  ‘So you’re doing a little sleuthing. I’d say I didn’t blame you, but if anyone’s asking questions, Jane, let it be the police. Just in case. What I will do is ask the kitchen staff if they’ve heard any screams. Or even done any screaming when they’ve been arsing around. Now, I don’t like seeing good grub go cold.’

  Although we both picked up our knives and forks, Rufus asked, ‘Am I guessing you really think what you heard were women’s screams? Why should other people assure you that they were just animals on heat? Who told you it was foxes?’

  ‘One of my neighbours – she actually threw water over them. And Joy – no, she didn’t throw water over her. Joy said it was foxes screaming, not women.’ Letting that stone sink into the pond, I applied myself to the guinea fowl. ‘Let’s talk about her later,’ I said. ‘This is food heaven.’

  ‘There’s one thing I want to ask first: the night you were staying with Joy and Ken—’

  ‘Not Ken – he was away.’

  ‘The night at Joy’s – did the neighbours mention foxes the next day?’

  My fork returned to the plate as if by its own volition. ‘Yes. And shouting and door-slamming. But no sighting of the vixen.’

  ‘Ah. Any moment now I can see you wanting to tell Elaine about this. But not until we’ve eaten, maybe?’

  ‘Maybe not until tomorrow morning.’ The ambiguity of what I’d just said! ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—It’s just we’re having breakfast tomorrow, aren’t we? God, it’s getting worse! Elaine and I are having breakfast tomorrow.’

  ‘What are you expecting? A takeaway McMuffin? On tonight’s evidence she might eat yours too.’

  ‘I wouldn’t offer odds against it.’

  ‘Given the not at all remote possibility that she will forget or be tied up, perhaps I might just tag along. How would you feel about breakfast at the Mondiale? Or brunch?’

  I think my flush went from my navel to my neck. ‘Just now I don’t know what I’d feel,’ I said when I could speak.

  ‘Let’s talk about it later, then,’ he said lightly. ‘How do you like Dom’s special secret recipe?’

  ‘Excellent.’ But I ate in silence: I was too busy inventing little speeches in my head to say anything aloud. Speeches about – well, one woman, one man. Do the maths. But I’d no idea what they might add up to.

  When our plates were clear, Rufus coughed gently. ‘When she was in her teens – no, early twenties – my sister was raped. There were – internal injuries. For years she couldn’t face the idea of sex, and she’d tear me to pieces if she knew I’d just made what I can see was a crass bit of innuendo. Except it wasn’t innuendo. What I really meant was that I will take you to your house and pick you up at a prearranged time to take you to see Elaine and maybe do breakfast, brunch whatever later. But she also said that what she did miss was normal non-invasive human contact – be
ing cuddled, that sort of thing. Something else occurs to me – that you may not feel you’re safe in that house of yours. Not with women or vixens screaming round you. Not after all you’ve been through. Sorry – long speech.’

  ‘Kind speech,’ I said. ‘I think I’d like your sister.’

  ‘I hope you’ll meet her. Lules’ favourite aunt. And I have to say you’re not the only one with hang-ups. I’m a widower whose wife died in stupid circumstances and whose daughter matters more than the world. God knows when I last dated anyone – I guess I’ve forgotten how.’

  I tried a dry laugh: ‘Dating? What’s that? Actually, I did nearly go on one last summer only my date got himself arrested instead. Dom will have played against him, if you ever want to ask him.’

  He took my hand and squeezed it lightly. ‘I did get round to taking this woman out not so long ago. Then she offered me a line of cocaine. Over. After Lules’ mum …’ He shook his head, removing his hand to make a slicing gesture across his throat. ‘So you can see employing a gay assistant, no matter how vocal in the bedroom, makes sense.’

  ‘Screaming again, is she?’ Dom asked, collecting the plates himself. ‘Like those vixens? And no, none of the team reports seeing any, not live ones. Henry’s dad is the master of foxhounds somewhere – he’ll ask him when he gets home. I’ll let Ruf here know, Jane, don’t you worry. Now, dessert, or are you ready for my special?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Police scene-of-crime tape still garlanded the paths into the woods Rufus owned.

  ‘Just close your eyes,’ he suggested as kindly as if he were talking to Lules.

  ‘I’d better just avert them,’ I said. ‘If I close them I’ll go to sleep! Goodness knows how much alcohol W. G.’s special contains,’ I added with pleasurable guilt. Then I succumbed to silence: what happened next was a topic we’d not got round to pursuing again.

  ‘A lot. Hello, what’s that?’ Pointing, he braked sharply.

  ‘Looks like – yes, it’s a woman.’ I was out and running towards her before she staggered to a halt.

  ‘Help! Please – must help me!’ she panted.

  ‘Of course!’ I waved Rufus over.

  ‘No. No car. They’ll stop you. Punish us all.’

  ‘Car as far as my school. You’ll be safe there.’ Between us we more or less frog-marched her to the car and shoved her into the back footwell.

  It only took a minute or so. ‘Get her out. I’ll open the door ready!’

  In fact, we had to carry her. She’d lost her shoes somewhere and her feet were bleeding.

  ‘Can’t risk putting any lights on. Just follow me.’

  ‘They search!’

  ‘They won’t search here. Rufus, can you shift the car – anywhere but here! – and call the police.’

  She grabbed his arm. ‘No. Not policeman.’

  ‘Policewoman,’ I said. ‘Elaine. Probably still working. Just go.’ I gave him two things – a kiss on the lips and a shove. Then I locked us in. ‘I’m Jane. I’m the head teacher here. I know a very safe place. Oh, dear, this’ll hurt your poor feet, I’m afraid,’ I said, opening the roof-hatch and pushing the ladder in place. Thank goodness I didn’t have to faff around getting the key from the safe. ‘Get up there. I’ll bring you water. No lights still.’ A bottle of fizzy juice someone had confiscated and – yes – a bucket. ‘Here you are. Take them. And though it’s hard, pull that ladder up. UP!’ I gestured. ‘Don’t open the hatch or let the ladder down till I come back.’

  The Audi stopped beside me. ‘You’ve locked the door again?’ Rufus said, hauling me in beside him.

  ‘Automatic. Key code, remember. Just drive. Pull into that lay-by by the tape if you want.’

  He kept on in the opposite direction, U-turning and pulling up in a gateway. ‘Now what?’

  ‘Pretend you’re snogging me. Just do it!’ Dear God, Will and I had once done just this. And he’d kissed me, but never again.

  ‘What idiot designed great consoles between the driver and his snoggee? Hell, we’ll switch on the satnav if we’re not careful. Shit. Company.’

  Company indeed. White van man. The one who’d smashed the Speed Watch team gear. Window-dressing time: I unzipped my trousers and pulled my top awry. I grabbed Rufus’s hand and laid it on my thigh.

  By now white van man was out and banging on Rufus’s window. Yes, the central locking was on.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ Rufus demanded through the half-open window.

  The voice that replied was remarkably accent free. ‘My girlfriend and I had a tiff. She ran away. I want to make sure she’s safe.’

  ‘Sorry, mate – we’ve not really been in a position to look at anything. So just push off and let us be, will you?’

  ‘You’ve seen nothing? No young woman? Oh, get back to your fucking whore.’

  Up went the window. ‘You better had, you know, just until he drives off,’ I said in my most headmistressy voice. But I did remove his hand.

  ‘But I’d better stop when the sixth cavalry arrives, I suppose?’ He leant over me, tidying my top for me as he did so. ‘What a shame – sounds as if they’re here now.’

  I wriggled my trousers back to decency. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Ms Matchmaker herself, I’d say. Yes, she’s erupting even now.’ He was up and out, perhaps to intercept her. I followed a moment or two later.

  ‘This had better be bloody good,’ she was saying.

  ‘And you’d better have armed backup,’ I retorted. ‘I don’t think white van man there was carrying a pea-shooter. He’s after a terrified woman – at a guess, one of the women from the close.’

  ‘Why the hell did she come here?’

  ‘Does it matter? I’ve locked her in the school in the cold and dark and the sooner we can safely retrieve her the better. And I meant what I said about extra bodies.’

  ‘God – now I know why I always hated teachers,’ she grumbled. ‘What a good job I’ve got a few grey cells of my own. The close is sealed off. Armed response is on its way – split in two, sadly. Why she didn’t have the decency to turn up at your other school God knows – it would have made our life a lot easier.’

  ‘I’m sure you can put that point to her later.’

  She surveyed the rapidly assembling vehicles. ‘Which door will you bring the woman out of?’

  ‘Whichever you can get a car closest to.’

  She put a hand on my arm. ‘You really are dead serious about all this, aren’t you? OK, I’d say we can take a unit into the playground if there’s a handy door there.’

  ‘And no one can take potshots at us from there?’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘I’ve told her not to come out for anyone else but me.’

  There were times when I could wring her neck, but this wasn’t one of them. ‘Let’s kit you up before you even think about trying to get in. Rufus, you too – but you stay exactly where I tell you. Ah, here’s the super. Jane, stay here while I brief him.’ She pointed to a spot two inches from her feet.

  A hand took mine and squeezed it lightly – very asexually, in fact. As if he was thinking about Lules. I squeezed back, equally lightly.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK with this?’ he asked.

  ‘Got to be. I can’t imagine I’ll be allowed to go in on my own: heavens, it looks as if I’m getting body armour and a helmet. Oh, and you too! Very fetching.’

  I also got a hug from Tom Arkwright, looking every inch a chief superintendent, who asked me the same question in the same words.

  My answer was more succinct. ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK. Then this is what you’ll do …’

  I was picking my way through the still dark school using the light on the helmet. Idly I wondered what other gizmos it might have – I should have paid more attention, shouldn’t I? Then I heard what I was sure was a shot. Please God, let Rufus be all right. Heavens, didn’t all the others deserve equal protection? And let me be all right too, I added.

  Al
though the young woman let down the ladder, she wouldn’t come down: she was too afraid of heights, it seemed. So I went halfway up, using the torch on my camera to light the way down. First, though, she passed me the bottle – empty, and the bucket – also empty. And still she didn’t want to come down. I went up myself. There was a hint of a sweet smell in the loft I’d not noticed before. Her fear, perhaps. This wasn’t the time to speculate, though.

  ‘You have to turn round. Come down backwards. I’ll make sure you’re safe.’ So I grabbed an ankle and placed it safely before reaching for the next. At last she was on terra firma. This time it was her wrist I gripped, leading her through the kitchen. I tapped the door gently.

  ‘OK, Jane.’ Tom’s voice. ‘You can open up. Push her out first.’

  ‘No! No men! No policemen!’ she screamed. ‘You promised no men.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said – to both of them. ‘Tom’s my friend. Let me just open the door.’

  She threw her weight against it. ‘Bad man! Very bad.’

  ‘I’ll get Elaine,’ Tom called.

  By now the woman had moved from the door, but not for a good reason. The helmet light meant she could see parts of the kitchen I’d rather had remained in the dark – like the knife rack. She seized a kitchen knife, which she flourished. ‘I kill if that man comes.’

  Kill him? Kill herself? Hell, the way she was crossing the kitchen, she could have meant me.

  All I could think of was to tell her, as if she was a five-year-old, to put the knife back before one of us got hurt. ‘Look,’ I added, ‘there are thirty officers here to protect you, half of them women. This is Saturday night. You’re ruining my date with the guy who helped you. Look, I even had my nails done. What do you think of the colour?’ I lifted them so the beam shone on them. ‘Tell me,’ I said, edging closer to the door, ‘which policeman are you afraid of?’

  ‘No. If he’s listening at door?’

  It only then dawned on me that I’d forgotten the very first, most basic rule of any human interaction. I’d not asked her her name.