Ride On

by Stephen J. Martin

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she’s Amanda! We need a P, remember? That’s what she wrote on the door! A P and an A. It can’t be her. We don’t have a P.’

  ‘We have a P, Jimmy.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  ‘Paul. Isn’t that what she calls him?’

  ‘Oh … oh fuck! I never thought of that!’

  ‘Yeah, well …’

  ‘Christ, I don’t believe it!’

  ‘Jimmy, I have to go.’

  ‘Okay. But … well … can I do anything? Call someone or …’

  ‘No man. And listen, don’t call Susan either. Just in case.’

  ‘In case what?’

  ‘Just in case. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.’

  ‘What?! Norman, you don’t think …’

  ‘Jimmy I don’t think anything. I just don’t want any more people sticking their oar in until I find him.’

  ‘Okay. Jesus. Okay.’

  ‘I’ll call you, right? Keep your phone with you.’

  ‘Right. Thanks.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Norman hung up and handed the phone to Trish, gripping the wheel with both hands now and speeding up again. Trish put a hand on her seatbelt for about the fifth time to make sure that it was safely clicked. Norman tore through a yellow light and gunned across an intersection.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Trish, a hand clapped to her face. ‘Did you not see the truck?’

  ‘I saw it.’

  ‘Feck sake. And so this is what’s it going to be like going out with you, is it? Rock concerts and VIP rooms and mad dashes across the country to save your friend from a mad stalker? Is that what I’m after signing up for, is it? And me thinking you were a gardener.’

  ‘No Trish. I’m sorry about all this. This is a one-off.’

  ‘Me father’s poor car.’

  ‘I won’t hurt it.’

  ‘It’s bad enough.’

  ‘It’s grand.’

  She sighed and sat back against the seat as they got onto a motorway ramp. She needed to try and take her mind off his driving.

  ‘Your Mam seemed nice.’

  ‘She’s great.’

  ‘Although she was a bit worried when we bundled into the car and tore off without telling her anything.’

  ‘I’ll call her later.’

  ‘Right. So, have you ever met this Amanda one?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you’re sure it was her that pretended to be me?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You really think she’s in Cork?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How would she find the place? It’s in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘Mam told her.’

  ‘Eh … Norman?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Am I annoying you with all the questions?’

  He cleared his throat.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive.’

  She put a hand on his arm.

  ‘Okay. Well, I’ll stop anyway and let you drive.’

  ‘Thanks. And … and thanks for being here.’

  She kissed him on the cheek and looked out the window at the snow that had been piled up off the road onto the bank. Norman let a long slow breath out of his nose and unclenched his jaw. That was another barrel of porter for Jimmy. He really knew his shit when it came to women.

  *

  They got to the cottage in the late afternoon. Mikey Pat had already been there and had rung to say that it was empty. It had been since at least yesterday, because there was no footprints or tyre tracks in the snow. Aesop had been there, though. The kitchen was a mess and the bed in his room looked like he’d been playing football in it. Mikey was going to drop home and then head down to the sergeant’s house, to fill him in on everything.

  Norman got out of the car and looked around. There was nothing much to see. Everything looked normal. They went into the house and Norman checked all the rooms thoroughly. Nothing. It was all exactly as it should be. Well, exactly as it would be if that messy bastard had spent a couple of nights there. There was a bag in the bedroom. The one Aesop used to carry his music gear around. There were no drumsticks or anything in it now though, just a pair of jeans and some underwear. He went back out to Trish.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Does it look like anything’s the matter?’

  ‘No. Not really. Except that he’s not here. And he’s not on his way back to Dublin or he’d have brought his bag with him. And if he was going back to Dublin, he’d have cleaned up because he knows what I’d do to him if he left the place in this state. Christ. Where is he?’

  ‘No idea. He didn’t have a car, did he?’

  ‘Not unless he rented one.’

  ‘Could he have walked anywhere?’

  ‘No. Sure there’s nowhere to walk to. Not in this weather. And not Aesop. He’d get a taxi from the couch to the kettle if he could.’

  ‘I don’t know, Norman.’

  ‘You need to go, don’t you?’

  ‘Ah no. No, I could stay for a bit.’

  ‘There’s no need, Trish. Mikey Pat said he’d be here in half an hour. I’ll have his car then if I need it.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’ She checked her watch. ‘I could get home before it starts icing up too much again.’

  ‘Off you go. I’ll be grand. Really.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. Look, come on and I’ll walk you to the car.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re sure now?’

  ‘I’m sure. C’mon.’

  ‘Okay. You’ll call me as soon as you know anything?’

  ‘I will of course.’

  They went out and Norman looked around the landscape again, sighing. Then his eye caught something and he frowned.

  ‘What it is?’

  ‘The well.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The well. Look. You can’t really see it with snow all over it, but there’s a holy well over there. See it? In that field?’

  ‘I think so, yeah. What about it?’

  ‘I’m just going to check something. Hang on a minute, will you?’

  ‘Yeah. No problem. Can I do anything?’

  ‘No. Actually … just … see the shed there?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘There’s a length of rope in it. Will you get it for me? The shed’s not locked. The rope is hanging on a nail on the wall.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I just want to check something.’

  ‘Norman, you’re not going to do something stupid, are you?’

  ‘Of course not. Won’t take a minute. I’ll see you over at the well, okay?’

  He crunched through the snow in the garden and over the small fence that led into the next field. The well was about a hundred metres further on, and the snow was pretty deep. At least twelve inches. When he got there, he looked down the opening. It was less than a metre wide, but a good fifteen metres deep by all accounts. Or so Mikey Pat had once told him anyway. Obviously, Norman had never been down there. His Granny would have kicked his arse if he or any of them had ever tried that when they were kids. He started kicking snow away from around the base of the well to see if anything looked awry. But it was impossible to tell. The ground was hard with packed ice and muck. He looked up to see Trish coming over the field towards him.

  ‘You all right?’ he called.

  ‘Yeah. I’m fine. Jesus, like going out with feckin’ Indiana Jones this is.’

  She reached him and handed him the rope.

  ‘You’re not going down there,’ she said, when she saw him look over the side again.

  ‘I want to just take a quick look.’

  ‘Norman, no! What are you talking about? That’s just crazy! It’s dangerous and it’s stupid and you’re not to do it.’

  ‘Sure haven’t I done this kind of thing a million times. It’s grand. I just want to take a quick l
ook and I’ll be back up to you then. Won’t take a minute.’

  ‘Norman, you’re not in the army now. Will you give over? What happens if the rope breaks, or slips? Or if you slip off it and fall? Come on, stop being silly.’

  ‘Trish, I just want to check the place out properly before Mikey Pat gets here okay? Make sure the eejit didn’t fall in or something stupid.’

  ‘Jesus. Can you not use a torch, for Christ sake?’

  ‘Do you have one?’

  ‘Of course not. But there must be one in the shed or something …’

  Norman grunted.

  ‘I could be half an hour looking for a torch, sure. This’ll take me a couple of minutes. Get it over and done with. I’ll just tie the rope to the tree there and …’

  ‘You’re mad! Will you stop messing.’

  ‘I’ve done this hundreds of times, Trish. It’s grand.’

  ‘You’re not bloody Rambo, Norman! The rope is damp and … God, why are we even having this conversation?’

  But Norman already had the rope around the thick sycamore that stood about six feet from the well.

  ‘Won’t be a minute.’

  ‘Jesus, please Norman …’

  He had the rope wrapped around one hand now, slack in the other. He stepped up to the lip of the well and sat on it, swinging his legs around.

  ‘I’ll just …’

  ‘What the hell is that?’ she said, pointing.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That. Around your ankle.’

  ‘Oh. That’s … eh.’

  ‘Fuck sake, Norman, why have you a bloody big knife strapped to you? Listen, this is getting …’

  ‘Here. Take it.’

  ‘What? What am I going to do with it?’

  ‘Just hold it. I don’t want to lose it.’

  ‘Jesus … and … and how are you meant to see down there?’

  ‘I’ve a lighter.’

  ‘And what about the bloody water in the bottom of the well? How deep is it?’

  ‘Only about three feet usually. There’s a grate across it then. In case anyone fell in.’

  She sighed.

  ‘You’re going to go down there no matter what I say, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’ll be back up in five minutes. You can keep talking to me if you like.’

  ‘God. What’ll we talk about? The bloody weather? Football? You abseiling into a well in the middle of winter on a damp, oily tow-rope with nothing to stop you falling to your death?’

  ‘Whatever you like.’

  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then he was gone. All she could hear was the occasional mumble echoing up. She looked over the edge, but he was already just a murky shadow in the blackness. She waited for a minute or so.

  ‘Anything?’ she called.

  ‘Hang on,’ came the booming voice back up to her.

  ‘Okay.’

  Another minute or so. She could see the faint glow of his lighter, but she couldn’t make anything out down there. Norman’s voice came up again, but it was all muffled.

  ‘What?’ She leaned further in. ‘I can’t hear you.’

  ‘I said I think I … I think I found … something.’

  ‘Jesus. What?’

  ‘Fucking hell! Fuck!’

  ‘What? Norman, what is it?’

  The light went out.

  There was more mumbling, but she didn’t know what he was saying. She felt sick, her heart hammering. She jumped back from the well and over to the sycamore tree to check the knot. It looked fine. You couldn’t undo it even if you were trying to, not with Norman’s weight pulling it tight.

  ‘Trish? Trish, I’m coming up.’

  ‘Okay Norman. Come on.’

  The rope started to twitch and jerk even more. She looked back around at the tree, but there was no way it would slip and unravel on its own. No way. It was solid. She was sweating now, despite the cold. She looked at the knife in her hand and shuddered.

  ‘Come on up.’

  Chapter Thirty

  The door of the cottage opened and Aesop stood there.

  He stared.

  ‘What the … ?’ he said.

  Trish went to stand up from the couch.

  ‘Stay the fuck where you are, you mad cow,’ said Aesop, pointing at her and taking a step back. ‘I’m bleedin’ freezing and I’ve had enough of your psycho shit.’

  ‘What? Jesus, Aesop, where have you been? Everyone’s been worried sick!’

  ‘What are you doing here? Where’s Norman?’

  ‘He’s dropping Mikey Pat home and then coming back with his car.’

  ‘Me bollocks he is.’ Then he saw the knife next to her on the couch and took another half-step backwards. ‘Wha … why have you got his knife?’

  ‘What? Oh, he gave it to me to mind. He said …’

  ‘That’s his Da’s knife. No one’s allowed touch it, you lying fucker.’

  ‘Aesop, I swear, he’s just …’

  ‘Stay fucking sitting down!’

  ‘What? Aesop, I’m just …’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Norman!’

  ‘I told you. He’s getting Mikey Pat’s car. My car won’t start and he’s going to drop me to the train. The spark plugs are gone again. It keeps happening.’

  Aesop took a quick glance behind him.

  ‘That car?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s my Dad’s.’

  ‘The spark plugs are gone, are they?’

  ‘Yes! Look Aesop, will you come in and shut the door, for God sake!’

  ‘You think I’m a fuckin’ eejit? That’s a diesel car.’

  ‘What? I don’t …’

  Then he saw something else on the couch.

  ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s my phone.’

  ‘Norman found it.’

  ‘Norman found it? How did he manage that?’

  ‘It was down the well.’

  ‘I know where it was. It bleedin’ fell down there the …’

  Aesop’s eyes jumped from the phone to the knife and then to Trish’s face.

  ‘Holy fuck,’ he said, backing even further out the door and grabbing the handle. ‘What are you after … you sick fucking …’

  ‘Aesop? Aesop come back. Where are you …’

  ‘Get the fuck away from me!’

  She stood up and started to move towards him. He ran outside, slamming the door shut behind him. He heard the door open again but he just kept going, down the short gravel driveway and out the gate. He was twenty yards down the road, his name from her mouth echoing in his ears, when the car came bouncing over the hill.

  And straight into him. He just had time to jump a couple of inches into the air and then he was collected up by the bonnet, his legs flung in an arc over his head, which smashed against the windscreen. The car kept going, sliding over the black, packed ice on the road and colliding with the gatepost of the cottage. Aesop had a brief sense of cold and noise in his head … and then he was gone.

  *

  Jimmy was fuck-ways in the head with worry. There was no word from anyone. Norman hadn’t called and wasn’t answering his phone. Aesop’s was still dead. He called Dónal to tell him the latest and spent five minutes being told to sit down and try and relax. He couldn’t though. As soon as Dónal hung up he was back to pacing his living room, cursing at his phone and rubbing his face. At least the coppers knew. That’s what Norman had said the last time he called. Mikey Pat was with the sergeant and telling him what was going on. That was something.

  Jimmy was about to call Shiggy, just for something to do, when the phone rang and vibrated in his hand, making him jerk.

  ‘Jesus …’

  The screen said nothing only that a call was incoming.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jimmy?’

  It was Susan in London. Fuck, what now?

  ‘Susan?’

  ‘Yeah. Hi.’


  ‘Eh … hiya.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You sound awful.’

  ‘Nothing … eh, nothing. I’m grand.’

  Norman had asked him to say fuck all to her.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m sure. What’s up?’

  She spoke quietly then.

  ‘Jimmy, I can understand if you’re annoyed. I’m sorry I never got back to you when you called me in London.’

  ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘No. Listen, I knew you’d be around and I just didn’t want to deal with it.’

  ‘It’s okay, Susan.’

  ‘I went to my Mam’s for the weekend. In Surrey. I just couldn’t face the idea of seeing you and … y’know … getting into everything. So … eh …’

  Will you get to the fucking point, woman?

  ‘Susan, it’s fine, okay? I mean … whatever.’

  ‘Oh. So you’re pissed off. I see. Well I won’t keep you then.’

  ‘Look Susan, I’m sorry. There’s … stuff going on at the moment and I’m a bit on edge. Can I call you later?’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Well, no. Look, Aesop’s gone missing and we’re a bit worried about him.’

  ‘Aesop?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s been gone for a couple of days now. And someone’s been threatening him recently. We’re all … y’know? We’re worried that something might have happened to him.’

  ‘But Jimmy, that’s why I called. I wanted to tell you that Amanda is okay.’

  ‘Wh … Amanda?’

  ‘Yeah. It turns out that she was in Ireland. She went over to see Aesop. She hadn’t planned it, but … oh, I don’t know. She remembered the great time we all had in Thailand, and she just wanted to see him again. I don’t think she expected much, but she figured that Aesop was pretty easy-going and was hoping they could hang out for a bit. She was going to surprise him.’

  ‘Right. Eh … and have you spoken to her? I mean, today or … recently?’

  Christ, what was going on?

  ‘Yeah! I talked to her this morning.’

  What?! Jimmy swallowed. He might be able to find out something at long fucking last.

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She said that she spent the last couple of days with Aesop.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘Yeah. They went to see some dolphin or something? Aesop insisted. She had a car and they drove to the coast and went out in a boat. Had a great time.’