‘He can never be safe. You said that.’ Anger stiffened his voice. ‘Not even when his time is over and he lies beneath the soil.’
‘Don’t punish yourself, my love.’ She amazed herself at the sweetness of her voice. To anyone listening it would seem she idolised this man who was her husband. In truth, he was merely a means to an end. A single, destructive moment in her lonely life. A moment which seemed to go on for ever.
Throwing the cigarette to the ground, she stamped on it, grinding the soft, pliable mess beneath her heel. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘What question?’
‘That couple.’ Her gaze drew his attention to the spot where Dave and Libby had been. ‘Who were they?’
‘Just a young couple, celebrating a birthday.’ He paused, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. ‘Strange though. Did you see?’
She took her time answering. ‘Yes, I saw.’
When she had first seen Dave, she could hardly tear her gaze away. He was the key, she knew. The key to unlock the past and release the future. It didn’t matter if he was lost. It didn’t matter if they were all lost. All that mattered was that the bad ones should pay for what they had done. All these years she’d tried her mortal best. It was never enough. ‘You didn’t say anything, did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Only that the lane might be haunted.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘No.’
‘So he has no idea?’
He shook his head. ‘None.’
‘Hmm.’ In the half-light, she discreetly observed him; his expression gave nothing away. She grunted again, her gaze shifting to the road and the direction in which the car had gone. ‘It’s just as well he doesn’t know what’s in store.’
‘Poor devil.’ His voice trembled with emotion.
She remained for a moment, her face looking up to his, her heart breaking. ‘It’s been a hard day. I’m really shattered. If your father falls asleep, I’ll be in bed by the time you come home.’ She touched him on the face, a soft, intimate touch that made him smile at her. The smile faded when she added gently, ‘Try not to wake me.’
He watched her go, a tired, caring creature who had done nothing wrong, yet, like him, was being punished almost beyond endurance. He glanced up at the night sky, at the stars twinkling there, and for one magical moment he remembered how it had been before their whole lives had changed for ever. Still, it was not Ida’s fault. ‘I should remember that,’ he murmured. ‘I should treat her better than I do.’
Like his peace of mind, the moment of nostalgia was soon gone. Reality came rushing back and he turned, like an old man, his mind so weighed down he didn’t at first hear the head waiter calling his name. ‘Mr Fellowes, are you all right?’
‘For heaven’s sake, Carter! What is it now?’
‘This.’ Holding out a blue silk scarf, he said, ‘I think it belongs to the lady who just left.’ Carter was a slightly built man but as bright and fresh as the polished buttons on his jacket.
‘What would you like me to do, run down the road after her?’ Shaking his head impatiently, Larry took the scarf from him, crumpling it into his palm. It seemed to exude a natural, spring-like fragrance.
Suddenly he found it all too much. His mind slipped to another time, another place. Another younger, lovelier woman. The same woman who had left him only moments before, his own wife, now old and worn. Like him, she was chained by a love that grew stronger the more it was tested. ‘She was quite pretty, don’t you think?’ he said absent-mindedly. He clutched the scarf, wanting to keep it for himself, to feel the nearness of beauty once more, before it was too late. ‘The one who left this behind,’ he murmured.
‘I thought so, yes.’
Aware that Carter was regarding him with some slight amusement, Larry was suddenly repulsed by the feel of the scarf in his hand. Whipping it to the ground, he snapped angrily, ‘Put it somewhere safe, where it can be easily found when they come back for it.’
Carter bent to pick it up, remarking with some surprise, ‘Why? You don’t think they’ll be back for it, do you? I mean, it doesn’t look expensive or anything.’ He held it up to the light, showing how the silken fringe was frayed and worn. ‘I reckon she’s had the best out of it.’
Larry observed the scarf for a moment, then, with a small laugh, uttered softly, ‘Put it somewhere safe, like I said. They’ll be back. Or at least he will. Then get on with your work.’ Squaring his shoulders, he took a moment to compose himself before striding into the restaurant.
‘Bloody misery guts!’ Carter grumbled. ‘I could go anywhere and get a job.’ But it wouldn’t be so well paid, and so he stayed. One day, though, when he’d saved enough, he’d make his way in the world and have a place like this. Who knows, he thought with a burst of ambition that left him breathless, I might even buy this place. After all, Larry Fellowes is getting on a bit, and these days he seems to have his mind on other things. Miserable git!
In an instant Larry had shed his forlorn expression and painted on a bright, benevolent smile. Entering the dining room with an air of authority, he proceeded to make sure his guests would look forward to coming back. Over the years he had perfected the art of making people feel at ease and welcome, and now he was a master at it.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the head waiter looking at him. Turning quickly he was gratified when Carter seemed uncomfortable and flustered. For the sake of appearances he smiled and nodded. Through his teeth he muttered, ‘If you only knew.’ He drew on such a long, hard sigh that his whole body trembled. ‘Mark my words,’ he whispered, ‘we haven’t seen the last of that unfortunate young man.’ He knew.
He knew it was all part of a greater plan.
Dave had thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Now, with Libby curled up beside him, he felt immensely fulfilled. ‘Good job we booked you,’ he told the driver, a man of older years, with a kindly face. ‘It seems we both drank a little too much wine tonight.’ When Libby snuggled closer, he put his hand over her breast, thrilling at the small round curve nestling in his fingers. ‘We’re not used to the drink. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’
‘If you say so.’ She was incredibly tired, and glad to be on her way home.
‘Sounds like you had a good time, though,’ the driver remarked. ‘A fine meal, good company and a bottle or two of wine on the wife’s birthday – nothing wrong with that.’ He sighed. ‘My woman left me five years back. She took a fancy to my best mate and the two of them vanished from the face of the earth.’ He laughed cynically. ‘It’s a lonely life for some, so you enjoy what you’ve got. You never know when it’ll be snatched away.’
‘I’m sorry about your wife.’ Dave felt the warmth of Libby against him and his heart was full. The driver couldn’t know how he and Libby had gone through a trial separation and almost lost each other. Thank God they had realised how much in love they were. Now, it would take wild horses to drive them apart.
‘Don’t be sorry, mate.’ The driver looked both ways as they approached the junction. ‘It was my own fault. She said I never took her anywhere, and she was right. Working all hours and thinking more of my mates than my wife, that’s what cost me my marriage and serves me right.’ He smiled into the mirror. ‘It’s good to see you’re looking after your better half.’ The driver glanced at Libby in the mirror. Pretty little thing, he thought enviously. Yet he was glad to see them so happy.
Dave might have said how it hadn’t always been that way. He might have revealed how it had been the pressure of work that had almost cost him his family. That hard lesson had taught him to get his priorities right. Family and work were both important, but now, thanks to careful planning and some very motivated staff at the estate agency he owned, he had time enough for both. He might have explained all that, but he chose to say nothing.
‘Tired, are you, sweetheart?’ Bending his head, Dave brushed his lips along Libby’s cheekbone.
Heavy-eyed, she snuggled clos
er.
‘That’s it,’ he murmured. ‘You have a sleep. It’ll be a while before we’re home.’
He couldn’t sleep, though. He felt too restless. Unsettled somehow.
As the car left the inn further in the distance, Dave felt the urge to glance back through the car window. The road was dark behind them. Shadowy trees hung their great branches over the road, like monsters with outstretched arms. A wide, glowing shaft of moonlight threw a sinister glow over the landscape, and from somewhere in the forest came a shrill, unearthly cry.
‘Jesus!’ Glancing up into the mirror, the driver met Dave’s gaze. ‘What the devil was that?’
Dave shrugged. ‘Just some night creature. Shouldn’t worry about it.’
‘I’m out of my depth in the country. I’m only here because the boss is setting up a new base and the manager hasn’t recruited all his drivers yet. Six months, that’s how long my contract runs. Once that’s done, I’m back to the bright lights where the only screams and grunts you hear are two lovers having it off in a back alley.’
‘Where are you from?’ Dave felt he had to make conversation.
‘Liverpool, and proud of it.’
‘I’ve just sold a house to a man from Liverpool – retired, not short of money, by all accounts. He seems to have taken to the countryside like he was born to it.’
‘Good luck to him then. Not me though.’ He glanced sideways, out of the window. ‘I don’t mind telling you, mate, I’ve never heard the likes of that sound before. Fair put the wind up me, it did.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I expect you hear it all the time, eh? Get used to it, I suppose.’
‘It’s just animals. Fighting for territory or choosing a mate. Cats do it all the time. You must have heard cats yowling in the dead of night.’
‘Not like that, I haven’t.’ He laughed, at the same time pressing his foot hard to the accelerator.
Turning slightly in his seat, Dave stared out of the window into the darkness. He couldn’t rid himself of the uneasy feeling that they were being followed. He recalled what Libby had said about a storm brewing and the wind rustling the trees but this coal-black night and brooding atmosphere was like no storm he’d ever experienced.
As the driver accelerated and the car surged forward, Libby stirred out of a dreamy sleep. Half awake now, she looked up at Dave, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘Except for that sweaty little man hovering over us all evening, it’s been wonderful, Dave.’ She sighed lazily. ‘All the same, I’d like to choose where we go next time.’
His quick smile belied the anxiety inside him. ‘Are you saying you don’t like my choice?’ he teased. ‘That delightful inn? And that interesting little man, so attentive and all? Matter of fact, I think he took a real fancy to you.’
He wondered about the man in question. When they had walked away from the inn, he had felt the cold stare of his eyes in the back of his neck. The man was hostile, there was no doubt about it. But why? Before tonight, they had never set eyes on each other, hadn’t exchanged a word. It was his secretary who had made the booking. It was odd. And yet he knew there were people like that; people who took a dislike to someone else for no apparent reason. In fact, he might have been guilty of it himself at one time or another.
Libby stretched her legs. ‘How long before we’re home?’
‘Not long – half an hour.’
‘Where are we now?’ She felt too lazy to sit up; besides, it was comfortable having Dave hold her like this.
‘A few miles out of Ampthill.’
While he concentrated on the road ahead, Libby chatted about this and that. He wasn’t really listening. His eyes were scouring the way ahead; his mind up there, driving, overtaking; irritated and impatient.
‘Hey!’ He felt the tap of her hand on his arm. ‘You’re paying someone else to drive us home, remember? Relax. You’re like a cat on hot bricks and you’re making me nervous.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘It’s hard to relax when someone else is driving.’ All the same, for her sake, he made the effort.
In the dim light she regarded the sapphire and diamond eternity ring on her finger. ‘It’s beautiful.’ Reaching up, she gave him a fleeting kiss. ‘Thank you.’
‘I think you’re right, sweetheart.’ His attention caught by a swerving cyclist, he wasn’t even aware she’d spoken.
‘About what?’ It peeved her when he didn’t even glance at the ring.
‘You said you thought there was a storm brewing. I think you’re right.’
Opening the window a fraction, he let the night air bathe his face. Above them, the dark, seductive sky pressed so low, he could hardly breathe.
‘You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said,’ Libby groaned.
‘Sorry.’
Forgiving, she snuggled down again. ‘Wake me when we’re home.’
It was serenely quiet for a while. Too quiet, Dave thought. The driver evidently thought so too because he turned on the radio and began to hum along to the rich tones of Elton John.
The desultory rain suddenly became a fierce downpour, driven with such force it seemed the windscreen would shatter. Switching the wiper blades to full strength, the driver pressed his face closer to the windscreen, his eyes scanning the road ahead. The rain was drumming against the car so hard he couldn’t hear himself think.
Libby sat up. ‘I said there would be a storm,’ she yelled. ‘I was hoping I might be wrong.’ Her mind soon turned to other things. ‘I’ve left the washing out too. I hope the babysitter had the good sense to bring it in.’
Rain turned to hailstones and the noise was deafening. Just as Dave was about to suggest they ought to pull over until the storm had passed, the driver shouted from the front, ‘I think I’ll have to stop, mate. I can’t see a bloody thing.’ Looking for a suitable place to pull over, he kept his speed down. ‘Sit tight,’ he ordered. ‘Looks like there are deep ditches all along here.’ His head was stretched forward, his eyes skimming the road ahead. ‘I’ll need to find hard ground or we’ll end up axle deep in mud.’ He took a moment to glance at Dave who was also looking for a good place to stop. ‘I don’t mind telling you, I’d rather drive a hundred miles blindfolded than be stranded in this Godforsaken place.’
Dave knew what he meant. The road between Bedford and Ampthill was badly lit and flanked both sides by deep banks and ditches. On one side you could see for miles over the Bedford valley; on the other was a splendid view across the fields to the brickfield wastelands. This was not the best place in the world to be stranded.
‘If I remember rightly, there’s an opening just up here on our left,’ Dave recalled. ‘It’s the entrance to a small factory. We handled the sale some time back. Slowly now, it’s right on the bend. You could easily miss it.’ Straining his neck, he peered into the darkness.
Was that a woman standing there?
At first he couldn’t be sure, but then he saw her in the full glow of the car’s headlights and knew he was not imagining it. Standing beneath the tree, she seemed almost a part of it, wet and bedraggled, long brown hair and big sad eyes looking at him. It was as though she had deliberately picked him out. With a shock he saw her raise her arms and open them wide, entreating him to come to her.
It seemed an age before he could cry out, but in fact it was no longer than it took to blink an eye. ‘Look out!’ he screamed. ‘Don’t run her over!’
Easing the car to a halt inside the factory entrance, the driver screwed round in his seat. ‘Run who over?’
Flinging open the car door, Dave ran out into the road. ‘There was a woman. She was sheltering under this tree,’ he said, pointing to the big old oak. ‘Soaked through, she was. No coat or umbrella.’ He ran on, looking everywhere, frantic she might be hurt.
There was no sign of her.
Libby and the driver searched with him. ‘There couldn’t have been anyone there,’ Libby said. ‘It’s dark, and the rain was blinding. You probably saw a dog, or the b
ranches of a tree moving.’ She was wet through and growing more impatient by the minute.
So was the driver. Wishing he had never been given this particular fare, he was aching to get home. ‘You said you’d had a bit too much to drink, and it looks like you were right.’ At home he had a fire going, and a bottle of best whisky in his cupboard. With his feet up and a swig of that to warm his belly, he’d be a happy man.
As they walked back to the car, Libby commented on how quickly the rain had stopped.
‘As quickly as it began,’ the driver nodded, ‘and the wind’s dropped too. Just as if there was never a storm at all.’ He winked at Libby. ‘Like there was never a woman standing beneath that tree.’
They smiled at each other, but Dave wasn’t smiling. He had seen her, and nothing they said would convince him otherwise.
Resuming their journey, the trio settled into their seats. The driver turned the music back on and Libby relaxed, wishing they were home, hoping the babysitter had brought the washing in.
Dave was beginning to wonder whether he really had imagined the woman when instinct urged him to turn and look again. Though it was growing ever more distant, he could see the spot, the tree…
She was there! Just as before, she stood beneath the oak, long brown hair wet to her shoulders, big sad eyes following him.
Gently, he touched Libby, about to ask her to turn round and see for herself that he hadn’t imagined it. But before he could speak, the woman was gone, vanished like the clouds had vanished from the sky. Gone as though she had never existed, like the rain had gone from the ground. The storm must have been real though, he reasoned, because all three had experienced it. But only he had seen the woman.
Alerted by his touch, Libby turned to him. ‘What’s wrong?’
Instinct again urged him, this time not to make an issue of it. ‘Nothing,’ he said, and held her close. For a moment he wondered if he was going out of his mind.
Seeker, The Page 2
