“It’s hurting less and I don’t feel sick any more.” The man took a gate off its hinges to save me from climbing it.
At last I could see the yard dotted with people – and Phantom. I wished I could run. People were coming up the hill towards us calling, “Jean, are you all right? What happened?” I wished I could run to meet them.
The man called, “She’s hurt. It’s her back. She shouldn’t be on her feet.”
Mr Carruthers, who is tall and lean, called, “Shall we bring a hurdle, Jean?”
I called back, “No, thanks. How’s Phantom?”
“Bloody but unbowed.”
“Bloody?” I yelled.
“Yes. Jonathan is ringing the vet now. I presume Phantom’s had his tet …”
“Yes.” It hurt to talk. Sometimes it hurt to breathe. But every step was one step nearer to safety.
I looked back. My pursuers had disappeared and everywhere was quiet and calm. Even the birds were quiet, while down below the posh yard was swept clean, the centre grassed over and bright with flowers. The house was newly-painted and an elegant car parked by the front door.
I could see Mrs Carruthers waving, coming up the hill towards me, then Mr Carruthers was with us, saying, “Shall I carry you, Jean? You can’t weigh anything.”
I said, “No, thank you. I don’t want to be bent,” and both the men laughed.
“ We’ve sent for the police. ,” said the man in the yachting cap. “ She was being chased and they were shooting at her! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life!”
“They wanted to kidnap me. I don’t know why. We have nasty neighbours you see, and Dad’s work is top secret,” I said.
“Are you sure you’re not concussed?” asked Mr Carruthers, smiling gently at me.
“Absolutely certain.”
“Well, you do seem to be talking absolute rubbish.”
“I saw her being chased with my own eyes,” said the man from the river. “I couldn’t believe it at first. The men were wearing masks. It was like something on telly.”
“You’ll be a witness, won’t you?” I asked. “Because I’m going to need witnesses.”
“Of course I will, love.”
“There’s the vet,” said Mr Carruthers. “You can’t grumble about that for speed, can you?”
Mrs Carruthers brought a chair out and I sat in the yard while the vet examined Phantom, who seemed to have blood mixed with sweat all down his legs. Now I felt very cold.
Alison Carruthers, who’s seventeen and a top rider, fetched me a mug of tea with sugar in it. Mrs Carruthers wrapped me in a rug, while Mr Carruthers rang up home and the man from the river stood watching, not sure whether to go or stay.
Then the vet, who was about forty with brown eyes, looked at me saying, “He’s in a terrible condition, Jean. What have you been doing to him?” I tried to explain but none of it seemed to make sense, except that the man from the river, who said his name was Alan, kept confirming everything. When I had finished the vet said, “I think you should send for the police.”
“That’s been done,” said Alan. “As soon as we saw what was going on my wife called them.”
“Has he had his tet?”
I smiled at the vet. “Yes, he’s up to date.” Marli had been vaccinated, too, and so had I, I thought, so we were all in the clear.
“Okay. He’d better stop in tonight. Have you a box?” asked the vet.
“No trouble,” said Alison. “I’ll just get some straw.”
“I’ll give him a vitamin injection, and some penicillin just in case. He doesn’t need stitching,” continued the vet.
Jonathan, who had been holding Phantom all this time, exclaimed, “Thank God for that.”
I could not look at Phantom because every time I did I wanted to cry. He looked so forlorn, so broken down, as though I had been riding him to death for weeks instead of for minutes.
“Okay, Jean, we’ll see to Phantom,” Jonathan said. “You go in and rest. You look as though you need it.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t mean it to happen like this.”
“Of course you didn’t, darling,” said Mrs Carruthers. “We’re only too happy to help you.”
“The vet will send the bill to us, won’t he?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
The house smelled of furniture polish and flowers. In the hall Alan said, “Well, goodbye. All the best, Jean. I can see a police car down by the river so I’ll scoot.” He held out his hand.
It felt hard and warm. “I don’t know how to thank you,” I said. “I think you saved my life. I expect we’ll meet again in court.”
“All in a day’s work, Jean,” he answered, and was gone, running towards the river, silent in his trainers.
“I hate not being able to help. I would like to look after Phantom,” I told Mrs Carruthers, who had followed me inside.
“Don’t be ridiculous. This will stop you shivering, Jean. What on earth were you doing riding hatless and with nothing but a head collar?” she asked, handing me a drink.
I said, “It’s a long story. Can it keep?”
“Yes, of course, darling. Your parents will be here soon.”
“They were at home then?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
I imagined them arriving, the telephone ringing, Dad suffering from jet-lag, Mum exhausted by the traffic around London.
“What a homecoming. Were they cross?” I asked.
“Of course not.”
“Phantom won’t eat. I’m giving him a mash. Is there anything he particularly likes?” asked Alison, standing before me in jeans and a green shirt.
“Grated apple.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best.”
There was the sound of tyres on the gravel outside. Then Dad, Mum and Angus came rushing into the house like a whirlwind. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a nuisance,” I said, but Mr Winter and his friends wanted to kidnap me.”
Dad said, “Yes, I know. The police already have most of them in custody.”
“And Rachel?” I asked through chattering teeth.
“She’s at our house.”
“How did you know?”
“Rachel told us,” explained Mum. “We kept ringing to see if you were all right, and you weren’t there. You see, Dad’s plane was delayed and we were torn apart. I was so afraid something had happened to you, and yet we had to meet the plane.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“You should have left a note,” said Angus.
“Then we found Rachel waiting for us, shaking like a leaf. She threw the door open and screamed, ‘They’ve got Jean and Phantom. She’s gone to the Devil’s Churchyard!’” Mum continued.
“She was a heroine,” said Angus. “I know you never liked her, but you were wrong, Jean.”
“I like her in bits,” I said.
“David Winter was using her as a pawn,” said Dad.
“I always knew there was something wrong,” I told him, while Mr and Mrs Carruthers brought us soft drinks. Then Alison reappeared to say, “It’s all right Jean. Phantom’s eating.”
“What about the police?” I asked.
“I saw them on the way. They were by the river,” Dad said, sipping apple juice. “They’re calling in the experts – the Special Branch.”
I lay back in a chair while the adults talked; then Dad said, “Come on, we must get back. We’ve left Rachel.”
Then I cried, “ Rachel’s where? Why is she in our house?”
“It’s a long story. We’ll tell you in the car,” Dad said.
“Her own house is full of police,” Angus told me. “She has nowhere to go.”
“What about Phantom?”
“We’ll look after him, Jean,” said Mr Carruthers, his arm round my shoulders. “No need to worry, Alison has just got her H certificate and Jonathan is training to be a vet. When he’s better we will box him over to you.”
“Yes, home will be the bes
t place for him,” agreed Jonathan, who was tall like his father, with a long, straight nose and greyish-blue eyes and dark hair – a real Celt, Mum called him.
“But he won’t box.”
“Then I’ll lead him over off one of my horses, no problem,” replied Alison quickly, smiling at me. “They need all the exercise they can get.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything then.”
Angus was talking to Alison now, asking about the approaching long-distance ride. The sun had dipped below the river and nearly all the boats had gone.
I stopped to speak toPhantom. He was standing at the back of an enormous box, resting a leg and wearing a posh checked rug.
“Don’t worry, Jean,” said Jonathan. “We will look after him and send him home to you good as new.”
“They kept him in that ruined yard above the old churchyard with nothing to eat for days and not much to drink either,” I told him.
“Yes, our vet said he was dehydrated, but he’ll get over it. He’s a wonderful little horse. When we saw you coming down here, we couldn’t believe it – bareback, without even a headcollar! It was unbelievable. At first we thought it was a stranger. Then we saw it was you, riding straight at the fence and we just held our breaths and prayed.”
“So you saw me approaching?” I asked.
“Just the last bit. Then Alan rushed up from the river panting like mad and Phantom came into the yard half dead, steam rising off him in clouds, his sides going in and out like bellows. We thought he was going to drop dead in the yard. We all started screaming at each other like lunatics – ring the vet, ring the doctor, help Jean, see to Phantom … What an evening!”
“Thank you anyway,” I said.
Dad was hooting now. I climbed into the car slowly, and waved and waved.
“You like him, don’t you?” asked Angus.
“Who?”
“Jonathan.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“He’s a real sweetie, a real Celt,” Mum said. “A lovely family altogether.”
“We used to think they were stuck up,” I remembered. “But what about Rachel? Why is she in the cottage? You haven’t explained anything properly.”
“It’s a long, long story,” Dad replied.
“I think she’s having a nervous breakdown, actually,” said Angus.
“Is she alone?”
“No, Mrs Parkin is with her.”
“Mrs Parkin?” I shrieked so loudly that it hurt my back. “Why Mrs Parkin?”
“Because there was no one else and we couldn’t leave her on her own,” said Mum wearily.
“Why didn’t you leave Angus?”
“I thought you might need me,” Angus replied. “I thought I might have to bring Phantom home.”
“We’ve all got a lot of talking to do. Leave me at the top of the lane and take Jean to the surgery,” Dad told Mum. “Angus can come with me and get dinner, and don’t argue.”
“There are chops in the fridge, ice cream and lots of fresh veg in the larder, and soup in a tin,” Mum told him, changing seats with Dad.
“Do I really have to see the doctor?” I said.
“Yes, just to be on the safe side,” replied Dad, climbing out of the car and taking his case with him, looking incredibly tired – so tired that for a moment he swayed on his feet …
“My hat is in the woods,” I said, as Mum turned the car. “I’m sorry to be such a nuisance. Is Rachel really ill?”
“I don’t know. She was screaming and incoherent. She answered when we rang – but we were ringing for nearly two hours before anyone answered. What a terrible day it’s been!”
“What did she say when she answered?” I asked, leaning over from the back seat.
“She said that you had been kidnapped and that we must hurry. We didn’t know whether to believe her or not. It was terrifying. Your father drove like a madman; don’t ever let me hear you say he doesn’t love you again, because it simply isn’t true. Of course there were roadworks on the M4, so we drove through Slough, and then back on to the M4 near Maidenhead. Dad was hooting at everyone and Angus was screaming in the back. If only you had come with us.”
“Then Phantom might have died,” I said slowly. “But I still don’t understand why I was nearly kidnapped.”
“All will be revealed tonight,” said Mum, parking the car.
Dr Richardson was in his house when we knocked. He appeared and unlocked the surgery saying, “Not another riding accident?” before telling me to bend over a chair, then feeling my back until I screamed.
“Okay,” he said at last. “You can stand up again. I’m absolutely sure you have cracked a vertebra and there’s nothing we can do about it; just try to walk straight, don’t stoop, and I’ll give you some painkillers.”
“How long will the pain last?” I asked.
“About six weeks.”
“And she’s not to ride?” asked Mum.
“Better not,” he said, handing me a bottle. “Take two, four times a day.”
“Is that all then?” I asked.
“Yes, unless it gets worse. Then come back and we’ll have you X-rayed. But I thought you were a good rider, Jean?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“She’s lost her hat too. She might have been killed,” Mum told him. “Thank you for seeing us.”
“Come on – home. What a day it’s been,” exclaimed Mum as we got into the car.
I thought of Phantom standing in his enormous box, looking forlorn, lost and thin – oh, so thin. I won’t be able to ride him for months, so we’ll be invalids together, I thought, as we reached the lane. It seemed to me at that moment the most beautiful lane on earth, and Sparrow Cottage dreaming in the dusk looked like paradise.
10
Mrs Parkin was sitting in the kitchen, and stood up as we entered. Dad was on the telephone. Angus was washing lettuce at the sink.
“How is Rachel?” Mum asked, shutting the back door after us.
“Asleep, poor kid, worn out. Whatever will become of her?” asked Mrs Parkin, looking for the mackintosh she always wears outside, winter and summer, wet or fine.
“How much do we owe you?” Mum asked.
“Nothing, absolutely nothing. She says her ’orse is dead. She says Mr Winter shot ’er. She ’eard the shot. What a terrible business.”
“What, Marli?” I cried.
“The one you found ’er.”
“Angus, do you hear? Marli’s dead!” I shrieked.
“There’s no need to shout. If she’s dead, she’s dead. It’s a quick way to go, one shot straight through the brain. Better than the abattoir, she won’t have known a thing,” he said, shaking lettuce in a tea towel while I sat in a chair and started to cry.
“I’ve made a salad to go with the chops. They’re in the oven and I’ve done some potatoes,” he told Mum. “Anything else you want?”
Mum laid the table while I stayed in the chair, feeling too weak to do anything. I seemed to have lost all sense of time. I saw that the clock said eight-thirty, but eight-thirty when? Was it Saturday or Sunday?
Dad was letting plainclothes policemen through the front door. Then he opened the kitchen door to call, “Sandwiches and coffee, please,” as though we ran a restaurant.
Mum fetched a sliced loaf from the bread bin and asked Angus for some lettuce leaves while I repeated, “Marli dead? I don’t believe it. I simply don’t believe it.”
“David Winter was a spy, you know,” Angus told me, dishing up chops. “He was trying to sell secrets: trade secrets, defence secrets; whole systems. Communications, too – secret ones. He was a traitor. He wanted Dad’s secrets. He was using Rachel, too. He was our burglar – or his accomplices were.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Rachel told me before you came back. After she had told me she went to bed. She said she couldn’t sleep until she had told someone. He had to get one more plan, apparently, and
then he would have the whole system. And Dad had the plan. You were to be ransomed for it – that’s why he kidnapped Phantom.”
“It could all be fantasy,” said Mum calmly. “Sit down and eat.”
“Why didn’t she tell us before?”
“She was too scared. Marli’s life was at stake, even her mother’s. Her father had tapped our phone, that’s how he knew when we went to the airport. He was getting desperate …” continued Angus.
“They kept Phantom a long time,” I said.
“Rachel didn’t know they had him, not at first; then she overheard something and as far as she was concerned from then on it was you and Phantom, or Marli and possibly her mother, and she chose you …”
“I saw David Winter and I thought he was a friend. I rode right up to him and he called me ‘dear’,” I remembered, shivering again.
“Dad says you won’t be needed as a witness, because they’ve got enough evidence. He wants to keep you out of it, but I think you’ll be needed for an attempted kidnapping charge,” said Angus, happily.
“Have the police got both the Winters, then?” I asked.
“Yes, both of them.”
“Who will look after Rachel?”
“Her granny. She’s got a granny,” Mum told me. “The mother of her real father. She lives in Hampshire. She’s arriving here in the morning.”
“Does Rachel know?”
“Yes, we fixed it before we fetched you, because the Carruthers, bless them, said that you and Phantom were okay, so we thought we had better deal with Rachel first. Her granny sounds a real honey,” Mum told us.
Suddenly I could not eat any more. I was now unexpectedly and overwhelmingly sorry for Rachel. “It’s all such a mess,” I said wearily. “There’s Rachel having a nervous breakdown, Phantom ill, me with a cracked back and Marli dead. And all for what?”
“It was all for money. The Winters had bought tickets to go abroad somewhere,” Angus said. “Was Rachel going, too?”
“Yes. She didn’t have a choice.”
“But surely they could have been extradited, couldn’t they?” I asked uncertainly.
“I don’t know, it depends where they were planning to go,” Mum said.
Phantom Horse 6: Phantom Horse Wait for Me Page 9
