‘Any idea how Lulabelle gets on with her?’ I asked, fastening Geoffrey’s lead firmly.
‘None at all. Now we’ve got no shop it’s hard to pick up gossip, isn’t it? Her dad’s a bit weird, though.’
The phone rang; Geoffrey had the temerity to scratch at the door.
‘It’s for you. Someone from the council. Look, shall I take him? We could go for a quick circuit of the village.’
I handed her a couple of poo bags. ‘Take your phone and make sure he stays on his lead, however much he pleads. Promise? I’ve never risked letting him off yet and he goes home this weekend.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was so absorbed first by the phone call and then finding the information that the caller needed instantly that I lost track of the time. It came like a slap on the face to realise Donna and Geoffrey had been gone an hour, and that heavy mist was now swathing the place in grey. Had she somehow lost him, but was determined not to come back without him? By the time the idea was fully formed, I was pulling on my boots with one hand and phoning her with the other. When I was sent straight to voicemail, I was ready to run.
Where to?
Towards the village, of course. Where else?
In my anxiety, I could almost hear him whining.
I could hear him whining. And scratching at the door. But when I flung it open expecting to see Donna’s apologetic face, there was no one there – just a small wet dog so dirty it was scarcely recognisable as Geoffrey.
His lead was still attached.
Though he was overjoyed to see me, and wanted to be fussed over like a prodigal son, he refused to come in. Refused. Back legs braced. No amount of cajoling would bring him in. Not even his favourite treats.
Where was my brain? I had to go with him, didn’t I? Yes, I had my phone. I grabbed the small first-aid kit I keep in the car and took firm hold of his lead. ‘Find Donna!’
I’ll swear I heard him say, ‘At bloody last!’ as he set off at a spanking pace.
The lay-by that Eoin and I had looked at. Yes, he was definitely heading there. Not the bloody woods! Not in this fog.
I tried Donna’s phone again. Nothing.
Now he wanted to go up the narrower of the paths.
As before, I saw Will’s broken body and battered face. Geoffrey was tugging the lead with all his might. But just as his legs had locked earlier, now mine did. I must have been crying because something dripped off my nose, my chin.
Geoffrey came back and put his paws on my legs. Then he backed off, growling. He’d registered what I must have heard but not responded to – the slam of a car door and rapid footsteps behind me.
I wheeled round to find myself facing a police officer in full kit, looking grim. He spoke first. ‘What the hell’s the matter? Hey, call that little bugger off me. My God – it’s Jean, isn’t it?’
And there I’d flattered myself I might have made a bit of an impression on him. ‘Jane.’
Geoffrey was still baring his teeth. Mud or not, I gathered him up. ‘It’s OK. It’s Eoin. He’s one of the good guys.’ Mopping my tears just spread mud all over my face. Any moment now I’d get hysterical. ‘Eoin, do you remember—’ I began, but then stopped abruptly. Keep to the facts. ‘I think the school secretary may be somewhere in there too injured to move. She took Geoffrey here for a walk and he came back without her. To find me. He brought me here. And wants to lead me to her, I think. But – it was in a similar situation I found Will, and—’
‘Flashback? Happens. OK, will he lead me up, do you think?’ It wasn’t the leading that was the problem, but Eoin’s safety, I rather thought, from Geoffrey’s teeth.
‘Do you?’ I asked dryly. I must be getting better.
‘Shall I come with you? He’ll be all right, will he, if I do?’
Forcing myself every metre of the way, I set out, trying to keep Geoffrey close to my side. Eoin followed me at a distance, muttering into his radio or phone – I was too busy keeping my eyes on the path ahead and trying not to think about anything to check. ‘Have you tried her phone? We might at least hear it, if that bloody animal would just shut the fuck up.’
I tried. Voicemail.
‘We’ll just have to trust him. He’s not done so badly so far.’
By now he was frantic, pulling me off what was left of a track. And there she was. Flat on her face. ‘Eoin!’
One moment he was behind me, the next pushing ahead and, his body between me and Donna, was calling her name.
‘No trauma that I can see,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘Not like Will at all. Understand? Not like Will at all. But we need to get her to hospital before she gets hyperthermia. I’m calling for help now.’ He spoke to me as if I was a child. In a sense I certainly wasn’t reacting like an adult. But soon I was beside him, stripping off my coat and handing him my first-aid kit.
‘I’d say she twisted her ankle and then fell and clunked her forehead,’ he said, pointing. ‘Come on, Donna, pull yourself together. We need to have a conversation here. Jane, you talk to her: she’ll maybe recognise your voice. And that bloody animal’s, of course.’
I waved Donna, protesting almost as loudly as Geoffrey had been, into the ambulance, thanking God that she had family and friends handy to meet her in A & E. At last, I turned to Eoin to apologise for making such a cake of myself. The question of how and indeed why he’d turned up when he did hung unspoken in the air.
‘En route from A to B,’ he said helpfully. ‘I like to go via lanes and villages I don’t know very well in case I ever need to go through them fast. So my A to B is often via G and H.’ His radio crackled, and he opened his car door. ‘And here’s a call to Z. You’ll be all right?’ he asked as an afterthought.
‘My car’s parked just up the road.’ But I would have welcomed a lift, even that far. Still, walking would maybe cure the shivers and shakes I was suffering.
So I trudged back to school to get Geoffrey’s toys and most importantly his towel to put on the car seat before I clipped him in. Then it would be bath time for both of us. And a very stiff drink for me. But not till I’d got rid of Brian Dawes, whose car drew up behind mine just as I parked on my drive.
‘My dear Jane!’ It sounded far more like an expostulation than an endearment. ‘What on earth!’
‘Geoffrey and I had a bit of a moment on our walk,’ I said vaguely. ‘I’m just going to hose him down a bit. And I’m not sure I’m going to enjoy it.’
Brian did something he rarely did. He laughed. ‘I’m not sure he will, either.’ His face remained amused. ‘I was going to say I’d found a dog-friendly pub and ask you to join me for supper, but I suspect you may be going to have your work cut out this evening.’ He smiled and got back into his car, waving as he pulled away. He headed not out of but into the estate. It was none of my business where he went, I told Geoffrey, but he was asleep in my arms. Not for much longer, however. I wasn’t dry for much longer either.
‘Dogs have won awards for less,’ Donna told me when I visited her at home the next morning. ‘Royal Humane Society or something. Aren’t you a clever boy, then?’ Neither of us argued. ‘I must have let him go when I fell.’
Donna’s nan arrived, bustling in still wearing her coat and producing shop biscuits and instant coffee. She declared he’d done all right for a silly toy dog. Then she said I wasn’t to tire Donna out.
Thanks for the warm welcome. But I was determined to stay long enough to talk to Donna a bit more. First there was work, of course, worth a mention since, as I told her, she was the cornerstone of the place. ‘But that doesn’t mean you have to come back a second before the medics say you can,’ I added. ‘Our dear old friends Elf and Safety for a start.’
‘Well, the good news is it isn’t actually broken. The bad news is that a sprain like this might take just as long to heal. And there’ll be physio, of course. But my boyfriend had an idea. Actually, he’s not quite a boyfriend yet. I only started seeing him a few days ago. He’s a geek. Ever so clever
.’
‘You don’t sound that keen, Donna.’
‘Well, as I said, we’re not an item yet, not by any means. It’s just—no … Anyway, he suggested I could always work from home for you, my computer talking to the school computer. Would that be OK?’
‘Let’s worry about that when you’re feeling better,’ I said, for Nan’s benefit. That door wasn’t left ajar for nothing. ‘A bang on the head like that might trigger headaches, mightn’t it?’
She touched her forehead. ‘It is quite an egg, isn’t it? Nan thinks I must have tripped over Geoffrey’s lead or something.’ She scratched her head idly, but winced. And then, with obvious care, went over the same spot. ‘I seem to have another lump here. Can you see? Pretend you’re the nit nurse Nan’s told me about.’
‘I wish they’d make a comeback. But the way the budget is now – hey, this is a whopper. Are you sure they didn’t see this yesterday?’
‘They probably did. But I was a bit out of it to be honest. Thank goodness for Geoffrey!’
Not that she’d have been there if she hadn’t been out with him.
‘It’s funny to bang your head on the front and on the back,’ I said. ‘You fell on your face, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. All this yucky stuff in my nose and mouth … So how did I come to get a lump here? Jane, am I going crazy, or could someone have hit me? I mean, Geoffrey was getting a bit agitated. I thought he just wanted to come back to you. And I was going to turn round, but then I fell. All that wet stuff. Ugh. Bugs, too.’
I took her hand. ‘It’s OK, Donna. You’re safe now. That’s the main thing. But I do wonder if you should talk to the police – at least that nice community support officer, Ian Cooper: do you remember he came to talk to the kids about rights and responsibilities? That wasn’t the title, but it’s what it was about.’
‘Oh, he’s lovely! But I don’t want to waste his time.’
‘Let me have a word with him – he’s due to talk to Wrayford School about the same thing sometime, so I can mention it then.’ I didn’t want to alarm her. But if someone didn’t want Eoin and me to walk up the paths into the woods, didn’t want his own daughter to go riding there, then was it possible he’d taken steps to ensure poor Donna went no further? I toyed with the idea of summoning him to the school to talk about Lulabelle, and raising the subject of the woods then. Or not. And since Donna’s face had lit up at the prospect of talking to Ian, one of the most delightful young men I’d met in a long time – with a degree in philosophy to boot – Ian it would be.
Nan’s eye appeared at the crack between door and jamb. It was clearly time Geoffrey and I made a move. ‘I’m afraid he has to go back home tomorrow,’ I admitted, as Donna fussed and cuddled him. ‘I shall miss him, you know. Shan’t I, Geoffrey?’ What was I doing, making an admission like that when I was used to being stoic?
‘Me too. Jane – this is an awful cheek – but I suppose he couldn’t stay with me just while you’re working at school?’
‘If it’s OK by your nan,’ I said, hoping it wasn’t.
But it was.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ian Cooper was already sitting with Donna when, soon after two, I went to collect Geoffrey. Apparently taking his cue from the humans, he was looking unwontedly sober. He was pleased to see me, and even more pleased when I sat down, letting him sit on my lap. My lap! What was I doing?
Only agreeing to take Ian up to see where Donna had fallen, that was all. There was nothing like confronting your demons, was there? Perhaps Geoffrey might help chase them away.
As we walked, I talked, prompted occasionally by intelligent questions. Ian must have been a delight to teach; I hoped some of my little flocks would develop as well as he had done – it’s a joy for any teacher to see a pupil blossoming.
He shook his head regretfully when I pointed to where Donna had fallen. ‘Unless she’s actually been murdered,’ he said, ‘I can’t imagine there being enough in the budget for a forensic examination, can you? It’s a shame the medics missed that second bruise on Donna’s head – or maybe they didn’t. I might just swing by the hospital on my way back to the office and check. And of course I’ll talk to my guvnor. And to Eoin Connor. What an amazing coincidence he happened to be passing and able to help.’
Come to think of it, I couldn’t have put it better myself. But I didn’t say anything.
He looked at me sideways. ‘Would you have managed to overcome your phobia and come up on your own, do you think?’
‘I hope so. I really hope so. With Geoffrey urging me on I might,’ I concluded with a smile.
‘I never met Will myself,’ he said, setting us back down the path again, but then stopping and sniffing as if he were a human Geoffrey. But he shook his head as if to clear it of fanciful thoughts, and continued, ‘but I can imagine – no actually, I can’t imagine, can I? – what you and his friends are put through every time you see him. Best not to go on your own, I’d imagine. Pity they don’t allow dogs,’ he added, nodding at Geoffrey who was bouncing along like Tigger. ‘He’d cheer anyone up.’
Did I too catch a whiff of something sweet on the wind? Now it was I who stopped and sniffed. Geoffrey, too, not to be outdone.
‘It’s a bit early for bluebells, isn’t it?’ Ian said at last.
If there was anything within a hundred yards’ radius of us, we couldn’t find it. Not even Geoffrey’s nose picked up anything more interesting than the remains of a hapless rabbit, supper to some predator, no doubt. All the same, Ian didn’t look any more certain than I felt.
‘You wouldn’t think of letting Geoffrey off his leash and telling him to find, would you?’
‘He’s not my dog to tell,’ I said. ‘But I’ll try going with him. Come on: find!’
He evinced no interest at all. Indeed, the dead bracken and other undergrowth were hard enough going for adult humans with long legs. He looked up with pleading eyes, for all the world like a child demanding a carry.
We headed back to the road where Ian had parked his car, waving as he got in. ‘All the same, you know,’ he said, before he closed the door, ‘I might just be able to find a friendly handler with a trained sniffer dog, though they’re like hens’ teeth. Tell you what, that little chappie looks done in. I know I shouldn’t ask, but would you like a lift back to school?’
Neither of us argued. About either suggestion.
‘Poor Geoffrey, having to say goodbye to Dolly. But she’ll miss you, sweetheart. And I’ll miss our little walks, Jane,’ Enid said, patting my arm as we embarked on our last walk round the close.
‘So will I. In fact, I enjoy them so much I might bring an imaginary dog to walk with you when I’m free. Would that be OK?’
‘Of course – that would be lovely. We always go out at the same time every night.’
‘But maybe I should have your phone number and you mine in case I have to miss coming for a couple of days – unexpected after-work meetings and such,’ I added.
Producing our mobiles, we exchanged details and then, encouraged by our companions, we set off. There was nothing untoward at all to see anywhere: it was as if a collective decision had been taken to draw curtains, pour a drink and switch on the TV.
‘It’s quiet enough now,’ Enid said. ‘But you should have seen it earlier. Police vans and such a lot of shouting. Number 4.’
‘Goodness!’ I prompted.
‘And then nothing. We saw them talking to a couple of people, three or four officers went in, and then they came out again. That’s all. Oh, apart from an ambulance half an hour later. And a depressed-looking woman in a tatty car – a social worker, I’d say.’
‘Did anyone leave in the ambulance?’ I should be asking Brian all this, not gossiping with an acquaintance.
‘Not that I saw. But then, I didn’t want to look as if I was spying on them, did I?’
‘You were just keeping a neighbourly eye on things,’ I murmured.
Did Brian really ask the police to raid his
property? A man who liked to play his cards so close to his chest he could barely see them himself? Geoffrey, to whom I addressed the question aloud as I gave him a vigorous brushing, had no more clue than I did. Perhaps, however, it was he who planted the idea in my head: why not phone Brian in a matey sort of way and commiserate with him on having such a problematic tenant. The trouble was that Brian and I didn’t do matey. He’d not, for instance, thought to get back to me about his prison visit, though he must have known how interested I’d be. Or perhaps his heart was being troublesome again. Hell, why was someone so confident at school such an inept idiot when it came to adult relationships?
The only person in the village with whom I was on really easy terms was Diane, but Geoffrey’s presence put the Cricketers out of bounds for another night, at least. However, I was now thoroughly in the mood for some human conversation and it dawned on me what a bad friend I was being to Joy: I had hardly been in touch all week.
‘Jane!’ she seemed genuinely delighted to hear my voice. ‘I’ve been dying to get in touch but I know how busy you are.’
I hung my head.
The news of Ken was good enough, so long as he took things gently and stuck absolutely to his diet. He’d started to take a few walks in the grounds of their apartment, but it was a bit remote for her, with no one to talk to. ‘Look, Ken’s well enough to be left on his own now: why don’t we meet up for a girlie coffee? Better still lunch! Tomorrow?’
‘Oh, dear – I’d really love to, but I’m seeing someone else.’
‘Ooooh! A he someone or a she someone?’
‘A she.’
‘Oh, what a shame. Everyone in the close wants you to have a nice he someone. It’d be so lovely to have a wedding in the village. But then, I suppose you might move away if you got married. Unless it was Brian Dawes, of course?’
I’d better break off that skein of thought. ‘It’s lunch with a woman friend – sort of work, really, I suppose.’ Hers, not mine, of course. ‘How about afternoon tea instead?’
Head Wound Page 11
