We stopped to take our bearings. Behind us rose the house. It was huge, just as I’d thought. Almost a castle. Square, two-storey, built of whitewashed stone, with a kind of squat round tower at one end. The tower didn’t have a crimped top or a peaked witch’s hat thing like castles you see in pictures, but a plain tile roof. Yet the whole effect of the house was of a fortress. A shabby sort of fortress, with whitewash no longer quite white but greyish, and peeling off the stone walls, thorns twining up, the roof missing tiles, the whole thing clearly neglected, but still massive, formidable, like the stronghold of some ancient warrior lord or something like that.
‘How on earth did Radic find it?’ I said, shaking my head.
‘He or his friend must have scouted around. There are many old places like this in the countryside,’ said Daniel. ‘People own them but they’ve been let go, because they’re so expensive to look after.’ He looked around. ‘Over there’s a grass road but I think it just leads into the fields – we’ve got to get round the front of the house, and go down the driveway till we find the main road.’ He looked at Gabriel, who was standing silently, with drooping head. He said, gently, ‘Tu veux monter à cheval, Gabi?’
I was baffled. He’d just asked Gabriel if he wanted to go horse riding! What sort of mad thing was that to ask right now? But Gabriel nodded, his eyes brightening immediately. Then Daniel bent down and Gabriel jumped on his back. He threw his arms around his brother’s neck. I felt like a right idiot.
‘That’s called a piggyback ride in English,’ I said, as we jogged along the top of the orchard, towards the side of the house.
Daniel laughed. ‘Did you hear that, Gabi? You’re riding on a pig, not a horse, in English!’
Gabriel smiled. It was the first time he’d smiled since I’d woken him up. ‘Oh, I like pigs too,’ he said, and lay his head against his brother’s back.
We soon reached the front of the house. Sure enough, there was the driveway, shining gravel in the moonlight. It stretched quite a way into the distance, and we had no way of knowing how long it was. But we set off, going as fast as we could, not running exactly because we would soon have been out of breath, but almost. The driveway wound through an avenue of tall, tightly planted, prickly looking bushes that were so overgrown they had almost formed a canopy over the road. It was very quiet, nothing but the sound of our hurrying footsteps and our panting breath, but once I nearly jumped out of my skin as something silently swooped down from a bush above me and flapped on noiseless wings up into the night sky. ‘An owl out hunting,’ said Daniel, over his shoulder, and I nodded, my pulse rate slowly settling down.
We crested a rise and there it was, just a hundred metres or so away. The end of the driveway. The beginning of the road. ‘Nearly there,’ said Daniel, cheerfully, and then it happened. A flash of light, from the main road. A car, visible only as a dark shape behind blinding headlights, turning the corner into the driveway and heading straight for us.
Eye for an eye
No. No! He couldn’t be back already! It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t. Paralysed with horror, I was frozen to the spot for an instant, caught full in the glare of the headlights. But in the next moment, I was stumbling after Daniel as he plunged without hesitation into the roadside bushes, yelling at Gabriel to put his head down, so his face wouldn’t get scratched. Poor Gabriel was yelling too, in fear rather than pain. I tried to comfort him, to say it was all right, but my breath was too ragged and the words came out as a croak. And up the road the car was still belting towards us. The bushes wouldn’t provide much protection for long. He must have seen us. Must have seen me, especially, standing like a startled rabbit in the middle of the road.
A startled rabbit trying desperately to bolt now through a bushy jungle. It was dark in there, darker than on the moonlit road. Twigs and thorns whipped at my face and my hands, but I tried to see where I was going. Ahead of me Daniel powered through with Gabriel huddled up against him, hiding his face as he’d been told.
Where did we think we were fleeing to? Who knows? I certainly don’t because at that moment I heard the car stop on the road beside us and I knew he was coming to get us. I tried to run faster but forgot about looking where I was going, tripped over a root or a vine or something of the sort and fell headlong, awkwardly, twisting my ankle as I crashed down. And then I knew it was all over. I couldn’t get away. I had come to the end of the line. I screamed, ‘Run, Daniel! Run as fast as you can!’
Behind me, a crash in the bushes, a panting breath, and then – then I had the shock of my life. ‘What the hell? Sylvie, is that you?’
‘Mick?’ I said, weakly, hardly believing it.
‘Yep.’ He crouched down by me, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’
I grimaced and tried to stand up. But it hurt. ‘My ankle. I think I’ve twisted it.’ I looked at him. ‘I’m so pleased to see you, Mick.’
‘So am I,’ he said. ‘I thought you were a goner.’
‘And I thought you were.’
‘What?’
‘I thought he’d hit you over the head.’
‘Oh no. I didn’t get there in time. He had gone by the time I–’
At that moment, Daniel burst through the bushes. He didn’t have Gabriel on his back. But he had a ferocious look on his face, and a sizeable tree branch in his hand. He said, ‘Let her go!’ He raised the branch.
‘No, Daniel!’ I shouted. ‘It’s okay. It’s Mick. He’s okay.’
Daniel stared at Mick. He kept a tight hold on the tree branch. He said, harshly, ‘What are you doing here?’
Mick scrubbed nervously at his hair. ‘I was looking for her, mate,’ he said. He fished in his pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned card of matches, you know the sort, with a picture on the front and matches on a kind of tear-off tab inside. ‘I was about to tell you – I found this near the busted window. He must have dropped it.’
We looked at the match-card. It had a name, Chateau Espinous, Hotel – Restaurant,on it, and a silhouette of a building. I recognised it at once. It was the big house, back down the driveway. I said, ‘Mick, when you came into the house, did you see Freddy or Claire? My aunt and my sister,’ I explained.
He looked confused. ‘No, they must have slept through it all.’ He looked at the match-card. ‘Anyway, I didn’t understand what it meant, at first,’ he went on. But then I heard a car start up further in the village, and I thought it must be him. I ran like crazy but he’d already gone when I got there. And I know I should have alerted the police at once. But I was so angry. So fired up. I ran for my car and I went after him – but I lost him and I had no idea what to do – then I remembered the match-card and I thought, maybe. I put in the name on my GPS – you know the one on my phone – and it came up – so I just drove hell for leather – it was a fair bit of a trot from St-Bertrand and I missed the turn-off back down the road – and then I realised from the way the signpost looked that the place was hardly a going concern any more and I thought I must have made a mistake, but decided I’d have a look anyway – and well, here I am.’ His glasses fell down his nose again and he pushed them back up. He smiled nervously. ‘When I saw you standing in the road, Sylvie, I couldn’t believe it–’
‘I thought it was him,’ I said. ‘Thank God you went looking, Mick. Thank God.’
‘Yes,’ said Daniel. He’d lowered the tree branch and he didn’t look quite so ferocious any more but his eyes still didn’t look very friendly. I thought, surely he hasn’t still got a grudge against Mick? I mean, he’s just rescued us – he’s got a car, we can get away – no time now to rehash stupid old things! I said, ‘Where’s Gabriel?’
‘Just over the other side. Waiting. I’ll go get him.’ Without another word, he plunged back through the bushes.
Mick whispered, ‘Are they okay?’
‘Sure. I’m sorry he’s being a bit brusque. He’s been through a lot. That Radic guy – he’s a fruitloop.’
He looke
d at me. ‘What?’
‘Radic. That’s the guy’s name. Look, don’t worry, I’ll explain it later, we need to get away.’ I looked at Mick. ‘I think we better go to the police station this time.’
‘Oh, yeah. Sure.’ He shook his head. ‘My God, Sylvie, you’ve had a time of it, haven’t you?’
I sighed. ‘Yeah. And it ain’t over yet. Not till we’ve told the police everything and they can stop Udo from going to that rendezvous with Radic. Look, I’ll explain that later, too,’ I added, seeing a bewildered expression in Mick’s eyes. ‘You won’t believe it, it’s all so full-on.’
Daniel emerged from the bushes, holding Gabriel in his arms. The little boy turned his head to look at us. His eyes were huge, exhausted. Mick said, ‘Hello.’
Gabriel didn’t answer, but buried his head in his brother’s chest. Daniel said, in a more friendly voice than before, ‘I’m sorry. He’s just so tired.’
‘No worries,’ said Mick cheerfully. ‘He can have a snooze in the car. Come on, let’s get going before our friend turns up.’
How wonderful Mick’s old rattletrap seemed to me! How wonderful to sit back on the lumpy seat! I sat in the front with Mick – Gabriel didn’t let go of his brother – and as we pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road, I began to give him a precis of what had happened. He listened to me without interruption, his attention on the road, his jaw tightening as I described Radic’s background and the crazy plot he’d devised to take revenge on the man who he blamed for his nephew’s death. But his eyes widened with astonishment and he almost veered off the road when I told him how I’d been at Wedding Heaven that day. He said, ‘My God, how weird. How too bloody weird. It must’ve been awful. Do you remember much about it? I mean, about the guy – Thomas, was it? Could you tell, when you looked in his eyes, what he was about to do?’
‘No,’ I said, quickly then, more slowly, ‘Well, I don’t know. I’m not sure. There was something – or at least there was nothing – if you know what I mean. When I looked into his eyes, it was like a wall. Like there was no-one there. No expression.’ I swallowed. ‘Radic, his uncle, has the same look. It’s like he doesn’t see other people.’
‘And you think that guy was like that?’
‘Oh. I don’t know, Mick. I didn’t know him, really. I am sorry that he felt that way, but it wasn’t my fault – it wasn’t our fault.’
‘No,’ said Mick gently, ‘I don’t suppose most people would think it was anyone’s fault. Not even Udo’s. You certainly couldn’t bring a prosecution against him, could you? I suppose Radic knows that. So he’s taken another way. An old way. Blood for blood, eye for an eye.’
‘That’s crap, though,’ I said angrily.
‘Eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind, eh?’ quoted Mick lightly. ‘Sure. Problem is, that lets the guilty off scot-free. At least that’s what people like Radic think.’
‘Yeah, but they’re wrong. It’s not Udo he’s hurt so far – and me and Daniel – well, we’re pretty pissed off but we’re okay, but Gabriel, look at what he’s doing to Gabriel.’ I could see in the rear-vision mirror that Gabriel seemed to be asleep again, but I was whispering, just in case. ‘The poor little kid is probably going to be marked for life – he’s so sweet and trusting and gentle and now he’s so scared he’ll probably have nightmares for ages.’
‘Kids can be tougher than you think,’ whispered back Mick. ‘I know, it wasn’t like the best idea, but I reckon he’ll get over it quicker than you think.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ I said, soberly.
We had reached a crossroads. Mick took the one that was signposted for Toulouse. ‘We’ll stop along the way,’ he said, ‘just to call the cops and tell them to expect us. I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘We’ll have to use a payphone – I think I’ve got a phone card somewhere in my pocket – I dropped my mobile back at the house. I don’t suppose you’ve got yours with you? Or Daniel?’
I flung a glance into the rear-vision mirror. Daniel was being very quiet too. In fact I thought he might be asleep as well. I whispered, ‘No. I have no idea where it is. Radic got them both, I suppose.’
He nodded. ‘Okay. First payphone you see, tell me.’
It was about ten minutes later that I spotted it, standing lit up all by itself on the side of the road just after some village or other. I pointed it out to Mick, and he pulled up. He said, ‘I won’t be long,’ and headed for the booth. I saw him go in, and start making the call. I saw him begin talking. Then he looked towards me, and frowned. He talked a bit more, and then I saw him put the phone down on the bench and come out of the booth. He came to my window. ‘I spoke to the Captain. He wants to come and get us,’ he said. ‘At least, to send the St-Gaudens police to come and get us. They’re not far from here. The Captain wants to get a team together to go to Chateau Espinous, nab Radic and his mate there. I said I’d speak to you, see if it’s okay.’
‘Would we have to wait long?’ I said, a little fearfully, looking behind us in the dark night. But there were no headlights behind us, the road was empty and very quiet.
‘No more than fifteen minutes,’ he said. ‘Probably less. And they know where we are now.’ He looked at Daniel, who had just opened his eyes. ‘Is that okay with you, mate?’
Daniel shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
‘I’ll tell him it’s okay, then.’ He went back to the booth and talked some more. Then he smiled, and put the phone down. He said, ‘All set. We’ve just got to wait now. Tell you what, I’ve got a flask of hot coffee in the boot, almost forgot it was there. Brewed it up when I thought I’d have a long night looking for you. Anyone fancy any?’
‘Sure,’ I said, suddenly feeling how dry my throat was. ‘That’d be great.’
Daniel said he’d like some too so Mick went round to the boot and rummaged around in there, coming out a few moments later with two tin cups full of coffee. ‘I tasted it, it’s not that hot any more but it’s not too bad,’ he said, as he handed us the cups and went to get himself some too.
It was true that it wasn’t exactly piping hot but it was still warm and it smelled nice. I gulped it down, and felt it shoot pleasantly down my throat. Daniel sipped his and then Mick came back with his own cup and we sat there drinking, not talking much, but waiting for the arrival of the St-Gaudens cops.
Baits and traps
But the coffee doesn’t reinvigorate me. Quite the opposite. Sitting there, the tiredness suddenly hits me. Hits me hard. Very soon it gets worse and worse. My limbs get heavier, my vision starts to blur, my eyes want to shut. I don’t even notice that I’ve dropped the cup. I try to twist around in my seat to say something to Daniel, but the effort is too great. I turn my head slowly and see Mick looking at me. There’s an odd expression on his face – or is that because my eyes are blinking so much as I fight to stay awake that his cheerful, ordinary face seems to be dissolving into something else – a mask – an unpleasant mask, leering at me? I try to say, ‘Mick, I feel really strange...’ but the words are thick in my throat, my tongue feels made of lead. I’ve never felt as tired as this before. Never. Not even with the jet lag. I feel like I...
I pass out.
And woke I didn’t know how long after, with a banging head and aching eyes and throbbing ankle, into daylight falling unevenly through dirty glass. I had no idea where I was. I didn’t recognise this place. And I didn’t know how I got here. But what’s here,exactly? Not the car. Not that other place – my brain struggles with the memory – not the underground warren of Chateau Espinous. The walls are not stone, but thin metal.
I tried to sit up but couldn’t. My hands and feet wouldn’t move, they hurt – they are tied, I thought – no, I knew,with a great rush of bewilderment. But I could see more as my aching eyes focused better and now realised, with a jolt, that I was lying on the floor of a caravan.A small, boxy, shabby caravan, smelling of old fry-ups and smelly socks and damp. I
could see a tracery of tree branches outside the grubby window, a kitchen clutter, a half-drawn curtain behind which I could glimpse an unmade bed. I was alone. There was no-one here. But someone’s been living here, I thought. Who? And why have they brought me here?
I struggled to understand. But I also didn’t want to. It didn’t make sense, the knowledge that was trying to come up from the bottom of my brain. It scared me. It threw everything that had happened, everything I thought I knew, into confusion. I never suspected. Never once imagined. I trusted, completely. And now?
Now there was a rustle behind me. I heard the door open. Someone came up the steps and in, making the caravan shake a little. I was shaking a little too. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want him to know I was afraid.
‘Well, you’ve been asleep for quite a while! Hours. You must have been tired, eh? Welcome to my humble home.’ His voice sounded just the same as before. But why imagine it wouldn’t? He looked down at me. ‘I’m afraid I can’t untie you. But I’ll help you sit up, if you like.’
I was about to refuse – I hated the thought of him touching me, hated to think of him helping me to do anything – when it came to me that lying there with him looming over me, I was as helpless as a trussed-up chicken and about as dignified. ‘Whatever,’ I said, trying to sound uncaring.
He pulled me up against the kitchen bench, and stuck a cushion behind me. He looked no different from before. And yet how changed he was, to my eyes. How utterly changed.
I said, harshly, ‘Where are the others?’
He shrugged, saying, ‘We’re keeping you separate.’
‘I want to know.’
He looked at me. His eyes were twinkling. ‘Sorry, mate. No can do. They’re okay though. For the moment.’
He was enjoying himself, I thought, disbelievingly. No. I knew nothingabout this man, so familiar, so much a stranger. Nothing. The thought brought a renewed pulse of fear but I said, forcing my voice to stay steady, ‘If you or your friend hurt them in any way, I’ll–’
Bright Angel Page 20
