by Scilla James
Hannah pictured her freezer, and doubted it.
‘Doesn’t your gran want to know why you’re asking her to have them for the evening?’ she asked.
‘Not really,’ said Jess, ‘she may suspect that I’m planning to come down to the village or something, to see you, and that I’m afraid Pete might stop me. She’s always on my side. I often hear her say that no one should ask questions they don’t want to know the answer to, so I guess it’s something like that.’
‘So what do you want me to do?’ asked Hannah.
‘I just need some booze,’ said Jess, ‘gin or whisky, and a DVD, a horror if possible, anything with violence and murder in it. Pete’s favourite is The Texas Chain Saw Massacre but he’s seen that loads. And will you look and see if you’ve got any steak in your freezer?’
‘Steak!’ said Hannah, ‘now you are joking!’
‘But surely you must have that sort of thing,’ said Jess, ‘you’ve got a family, you must have food?’
‘You’ve got completely the wrong idea,’ replied Hannah.
The DVD wasn’t a problem, as she knew that Liam kept a stack of scary films under his bed, and he’d never miss one or two if she borrowed them. But she was appalled at the thought of burgling her father’s store of alcohol.
‘Please,’ begged Jess, ‘if we can’t get Pete out of the way it’ll be hopeless. But if we can keep him in Gran’s caravan until midnight, we’ll be on our way. I don’t think we can risk going earlier in case we meet any cars when we’re leading the ponies, and once we get to your field there’ll be nothing he can do. But I said I’d help Gran get stuff together. She finds it hard to get out and she doesn’t drive anymore.’
‘I’ll see if Tom can help,’ said Hannah, and then she remembered.
‘Jess,’ she said, ‘there’s something I should have told you yesterday and I forgot. Don’t freak, but I’ve told the boy who lives over from my field what we’re going to do.’
‘What?’
Hannah found it difficult to explain. ‘Well, I used to think he was a pain but he’s been all right lately and he’s opposite the field so he knows about Jack. He even got talking to him yesterday while I was at yours. I’m positive he won’t tell anyone,’ she added, ‘but I’m sorry. I know I should have asked you.’
‘Whatever,’ Jess said, though she sounded put out. ‘Only just don’t tell anyone else, all right?’
‘I won’t, honest,’ said Hannah. ‘And I’m sure he’ll be a help.’
‘Will you try and get some things for Gran then?’ Jess asked again.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ promised Hannah, ‘but don’t you think we could just wait till Pete goes to sleep tomorrow night? Then we wouldn’t have to involve your gran.’ And I wouldn’t have to nick Dad’s whisky, she thought.
‘And what if he doesn’t go to bed until 2 in the morning?’ asked Jess. ‘On Friday nights he often stays up really late and he’s got ears like a bat. He’ll hear me creeping out for sure. I’d feel much safer if I knew he was in Gran’s caravan. By the way, I went to the shed after dark last night,’ she went on, ‘Pete told me to check on the chickens and while I had the chance I ran down there. The moon was bright so I didn’t need a torch. I want the mares to get to know me, so they’ll come quietly tomorrow. Those foals are really thin. I let them all off their ropes and gave them some fresh water. Pete gets mad when he knows I’ve been there but he doesn’t care enough to make a really big fuss, so long as I keep my mouth shut.’
Hannah stomach gave a jump as she thought about the following night. Was there really no easier way?
‘What if you told your gran about what’s happening and she could call the police? They’d listen to her.’ It suddenly seemed to Hannah that this should be possible. But as she asked the question she could sense Jess shaking her head at the end of the phone.
‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen one of Pete’s rages,’ she said, ‘and if Gran told on him Cyn would go nuts. It’s no good Hannah, it’s got to be us that report him.’
Hannah was glad that Jess didn’t know that she’d once tried to report Pete. She still felt guilty about what she’d done. Why was nothing simple anymore, the way it used to be?
‘OK,’ Hannah said, ‘but I must go now. They’ll be wondering where I am and I don’t want them coming up to the field. I’ll text you in the morning if I can help with the stuff, and you’ll have to meet me here. I definitely can’t risk coming all the way to your farm and getting seen.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Jess, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks,’ she added.
‘I was beginning to think you’d got lost,’ said her dad, when Hannah finally arrived home.
‘Sorry,’ said Hannah, ‘I was talking to Polly. Has Charley rung?’
‘No,’ her dad said. ‘Why don’t you try and ring her? I’m off to bed. Liam’s watching some rubbish on telly and your sister’s out with a friend. Someone’s got to get up in the morning and go to work, and looking round this house, that someone appears to be me.’ He pinched her cheek kindly, gave her a kiss and went upstairs.
It was nearly 10 o’clock and there was no answer from Charley, so Hannah sent a text to say she was thinking of her friend and hoped that there’d be some news soon. It occurred to her to have a look in the freezer, just in case there was anything that could become dinner for Jess’s family the following evening. Six fish fingers and a bag of peas, one beef burger, half a packet of instant pastry and some turkey stock dated Christmas 2011. About to give up hope, she saw a large frosted-over object in the corner of the bottom drawer. She got a knife and levered it out, sending a spray of dry ice all over the kitchen floor.
Lamb! An ancient leg joint, which even her mother must have forgotten. The sell-by date, when she finally managed to get the outside wrapper off, was no longer legible. Probably just as well, she thought as she reached for a carrier bag and slid the freezing lump of meat into it. Lamb would be just as good as steak.
She went upstairs and hid the bag under her bed, and then went back to the lounge where Liam was on the sofa with a duvet, still watching television. It didn’t take long to lean quietly into the cupboard and remove the only half-bottle of whisky she could find, while her brother wasn’t looking.
‘Why aren’t you in bed?’ he asked.
‘Why aren’t you?’ Hannah retorted.
As he turned back to his programme, she pushed the bottle up inside her t-shirt and left the room.
‘Night night,’ she called, knowing that her fate was now sealed. She had stolen her father’s whisky and soon, probably tomorrow night, the bottle would be missed.
Confident of Liam not hearing her, she went upstairs and into his room. She reached under his bed and grabbed a DVD: Night of the Living Dead. Perfect! Surprised at herself, and the ease with which she had committed such crimes, Hannah stashed the film and the whisky with the lamb. She would take everything to the field in the morning and give it to Jess.
She got ready for bed, remembering that she was supposed to be emailing her mum. Tomorrow, she thought, and got into bed. She fell asleep at once, exhausted by all the riding, cycling and worrying.
9
Midnight at Owls’ Wood
Hannah woke early as usual but this Friday morning it was pouring with rain. She lay in bed listening to the sound of it. What effect would the rain have on her plans with Jess? Well, for one thing the ponies would leave tracks. They’d been lucky this far as a combination of Pete’s lack of care and apparent inability to count, coupled with the dry weather, had helped them a lot. Jess had been able to lead Jack away without leaving any clues as to their whereabouts. Even if Pete had noticed they were missing he wouldn’t have known where to look. But now, the tracks would point clearly in the direction of Polly’s field. In addition, from her experience with Polly and Delia, rain would probably make the ponies less happy to be led, especially if there was wind too. Still, there was a whole day to go and by tonight, the weather
might have cheered up again.
Hannah got dressed and went down to the kitchen. Her father was there, getting his things ready for work. He was trying to find something for breakfast.
‘Hello love,’ he said, ‘I can’t find any cornflakes. D’you know what’s happened to them?’
‘Well,’ said Hannah, ‘I could guess, but there’s not much point. I saw a couple of bits of bread yesterday but I’ll bet he’s eaten those too.’
‘I’ll get some breakfast on the way to work,’ said her dad, ‘and I’ll try and remember to go shopping on the way home. Here,’ he put his hand into his pocket, ‘you go along and get yourself something from the shop, and get some rolls or something for the others.’ He handed her a £5 note, and Hannah felt her spirits lift. She could get something for Talia and Liam, and a bun for herself, and hang on to the change, at least until tomorrow. It would be good to have some emergency funds.
The morning passed horribly slowly. Up at the field by 10 o’clock, she sent Jess a text to say she’d got the stuff. There was no sign of Tom but, thanks to his work, Jack seemed a little more relaxed. She managed to bathe his neck again and would have liked to give him a brush, but the rain was falling sharply and neither he nor Polly would consent to being groomed. Hannah was wheeling the barrow round the field with rain dripping down her neck when Jess turned up.
‘You look stressed out,’ said Hannah.
‘I am,’ Jess replied. ‘Pete’s in a foul mood and he’s been hanging about all morning, talking on his mobile. I’m sure he’s planning something. What did you get? Gran said she’ll repay you when you next come up.’
‘Oh, I didn’t spend any money,’ said Hannah, ‘but I’ve got some bits. Dad’s going to go crazy when he can’t find the whisky. It’s about the only thing he ever puts back in the right place.’ She showed Jess the bag with everything in.
Jess was delighted with the lamb, which by now had thawed and looked rather bloody and unpleasant, but she looked doubtfully at the whisky.
‘I don’t think that’ll last long enough,’ she said.
‘Well it’s all I could get,’ said Hannah. ‘There was a bit of gin, but I didn’t dare take that as well.’
‘Thanks anyway,’ said Jess. ‘And the film’s great. If I tell Gran not to put it on till later; it should keep him in her caravan while we get away.’ She picked up the bag.
‘I’ve got to get back now and start looking sick, otherwise if I suddenly turn it on tonight he’ll guess something’s up.’
‘Just keep having a look at the lamb,’ said Hannah, ‘that should do it. I hope it’s all right, it’s really old.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Jess, ‘Gran can cook anything and make it nice. Well, see you tonight then? What about your friend Tom, is he coming?’
‘Yes.’ said Hannah. ‘Will you meet us where the path ends so we won’t get lost in the dark? I can bring a torch, but I’d probably better not turn it on till we’ve got the ponies safely out. Have you got enough head collars or do you want me to bring some? Tom’s never led a pony before but I suppose he’ll be all right. If the foals run loose we can share out the others between us. What do you think? ‘OK,’ said Jess, and more headcollars would be good. I’ll give this lot to Gran and go and be nice to Pete.’ They promised to text each other if anything looked as if it was going wrong, and Jess left to go back to the farm.
Hannah felt surreal, and very nervous. The night loomed ahead of her, full of threats and darkness. And now rain, she thought. We could have done without that. But she made herself remember those poor ponies, and also all the owners who were even now grieving for their lost animals. As if on cue, a text came through from Charley:
Been at the Police station most of night. Think they may have lead. X fingers. CXX
Hannah replied:
Great! Rescuing ponies midnight don’t tell. X fingers. HXX
She found herself wishing that Tom hadn’t gone out for the day. It would have been good to have someone to talk to. She thought about Jess back at the farm, trying to act as if nothing was going to happen and pretending to feel ill. She wished the night would hurry up and come so they could all get on with it.
She had to pass the time until it did, however, and, as the rain appeared to ease after the last downpour, Hannah decided to concentrate on her own animals for the day. She rubbed Polly down, trying to dry her enough to put on her numnah and saddle. She took her for a ride in the opposite direction to the Chase. They had an exciting canter along the river path, with Polly swerving and spooking as gusts of wind pushed at her tail and made her jump. She didn’t like the damp, but was glad to get out of the field and have a good run.
Hannah looked a little ruefully at her tack when they got back to the field. It was wet and smeary and would need time to dry out before it could be cleaned. But Polly was certainly looking thinner, at least from some angles.
‘You’re not exactly Skinny Pony of the Year,’ Hannah told her, ‘but you’d get a prize for effort.’ She gave her half a carrot.
Time, which usually passed so quickly, dragged today, and Hannah couldn’t believe that it was only 3 o’clock when she’d done everything and was free to go home. She’d cleaned the buckets and washed out the trough, filling it with clean water from the tap, and she’d even swept out the shed where the tack was stored. Then, just as she was wondering when Tom would be back from his day out, a text came through from him that made her heart sink:
Disaster. Mum booked theatre not back till too late, tried looking ill no good. Tom.
Perhaps Hannah hadn’t realised how much she’d been counting on Tom, but she knew now. The butterflies in her tummy, which had been lurking all day, set up a full clamour. Trying to ignore them, she got her bike and cycled home.
When her dad got back at six he’d been as good as his word and called at the shops.
‘I’ve had enough of not being able to find any breakfast,’ he said, ‘and you, Hannah, are beginning to look pale and skinny. I’ve bought a lot for the freezer, and six packets of cereal. Biscuits were on offer and I’ve got ten packets of Jammy Dodgers so I hope you like those. Liam, you are forbidden to scoff the lot. And this evening, we are all going to sit down together and eat. And finally, Hannah, you are to email your mother this very night and tell her whatever news you have. She’s beginning to worry.’
This was a long speech for her father and it made Liam get up off the sofa and sit at the kitchen table in shock. Talia came in, too, and seemed more cheerful than usual. Must have a new boyfriend, thought Hannah.
So between them they made a grand fry up, with sausages, bacon, eggs and oven chips. It was great, but Hannah couldn’t help feeling as if it was the last meal of her life. Did this big dinner mean that they’d all stay up late so that she wouldn’t be able to get out of the house?
‘You’re a bit quiet Poppet,’ said her dad. ‘What have you been up to today?’
‘She’s been at the field, of course,’ said Talia, ‘the same as every day. Are you going to tell us what’s keeping you up there for so much of the time? I was talking to Mrs Berkeley in the shop today and she asked me whether you’d started taking liveries. Said she’d seen another pony in your field. Is that right?’
Hannah knew that Talia had saved these questions for when their dad was there to have maximum effect. The kitchen went quiet as everyone looked at her.
‘What’s this?’ asked her dad. ‘How have you got another pony Hannah?’
Hannah shot a pleading look at Talia, who smiled.
‘Not really,’ she said, ‘well, just one. But I’m trying to find out where he’s from and I’ve been asking around my friends.’ This had a bit of truth somewhere in it. She couldn’t think of any way to change the subject and, for once, the full glare of parental interest was focussed on her.
‘What’s been going on?’ pressed her dad.
‘Nothing much. It’s just that after I put my advert on the gate a new pony was left in the field wit
h Polly. But it’s not a problem. He’s helping to eat the grass and I’m sure someone will come and claim him soon.’ She tried to sound offhand.
‘How odd. Are you sure that’s all you know? What’s Mrs Walters got to say about it? We only pay rent for one pony at the moment, surely?’
‘Yes, well, it’ll all be sorted out soon,’ said Hannah, trying to sound confident. ‘Mrs Walters never comes up to the field at this time of year as she gets hay fever, and anyway, she doesn’t like ponies. She just lets the field because her husband used to keep sheep in it and left it to her when he died. I shouldn’t think she’ll care if there’s an extra pony in there for a while.’
Her father was just about to ask another question and Hannah was beginning to panic, when she was saved by the phone. It was her mum. Oh thank heavens, she thought. Of course she wanted to hear her mum’s voice, and was more than grateful for the timely interruption, but she had also realised, since meeting Jess, that having a mother, even a singing one, was a good thing.
While her mother spoke to the others Hannah got a bit of a story prepared, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. So when it was her turn to speak, she let them all overhear what she had to say.
‘It’s not a big deal Mum,’ she said as she finished telling her version of Jack appearing. ‘But we’re really worried about Delia. When are you coming home?’
‘Not yet love,’ said her mum. ‘It’s a five week tour and we’ve only done the first fortnight. But it’ll soon pass. It sounds as if you’re busy anyway.’
‘Sort of,’ said Hannah.
