No Holds Barred (19 page)

Beyond the stately rows of beans, Daniel could see a slight figure in jeans and a T-shirt, wielding a small firewood axe. Hoping it was indeed Dean, he went in, quietly closing the gate behind him.

In circumnavigating the vegetable plot, Daniel's route took him within a few feet of what was obviously the sitting-room window, but the curtains were drawn and, from the sound of it, half-time had not yet been reached.

The noise from the TV also served to drown out Daniel's approach and he was consequently quite close when he said in a normal voice, ‘Hello, Dean.'

At the sound of his voice, Dean whipped round, axe in hand and eyes darting from left to right as if expecting other intruders to materialize.

‘Stay back!' he said agitatedly, focusing on Daniel.

‘OK, no problem,' Daniel said matter-of-factly, coming to a halt and putting a restraining hand through Taz's collar as he made to pass. The dog whined and barked in frustration, and Daniel had to speak sharply to him.

‘What do you want? I'm not coming back.'

‘Mrs Summers said you were ill.'

Dean looked discomfited. ‘Yes, well, I've not been feeling so good lately.'

‘You know that's bullshit,' Daniel said mildly. ‘You didn't want to face Boyd again.'

‘No! That's not true. It's got nothing to do with him. I've been getting pain – in my back. The doctor said the lifting's making it worse, so I didn't have a choice  . . .'

‘So he prescribed chopping wood as a cure? Come on, Dean, I wasn't born yesterday! Tell me the real reason.'

Dean shook his head vigorously. ‘I can't. He said they'd smash my knees if I talked, and they'd do it too – they'd cripple me. You don't know what he's like.'

‘Who said that? Boyd?'

Dean looked round desperately, as if searching for a way out.

‘Who said it, Dean? Come on, you've told me this much. I want to help you.'

‘How can you help? You don't know them – they're evil.'

‘Was it Boyd?'

‘Him and that psycho buddy of his.'

‘Macca?'

‘No. Dek.'

‘Dek threatened you?' Daniel was remembering him talking to Drew and Drew's comment that he was ‘quite nice'. A man of contrasts, it seemed.

‘They both did.'

Daniel hazarded a guess. ‘Because of what happened with Taz? Is that why they were angry?'

Dean's face would have been answer enough; he clearly had no idea what Daniel was alluding to.

‘What d'you mean?'

‘That night at the cottage. In the storm.'

‘No! I had nothing to do with that. I overheard them talking, that was all, I swear!'

‘You weren't there?'

‘No. I swear I wasn't.'

Daniel was puzzled but inclined to believe him.

‘So you overheard them talking. Boyd and Dek, was it? What were they saying?'

Dean shook his head and almost sobbed. ‘No, I can't tell you. They'll do what they said and then I'll never be a professional.'

‘Professional?'

‘Golfer. I told you, I play golf. But I can't play if I'm a cripple, can I?'

Daniel did indeed recall Dean telling him he was to play in a tournament, but he hadn't realized the youngster was so serious about the game. Boyd clearly had known. Boyd had a mean streak a mile wide and a gift for homing in on a person's vulnerability.

‘Look, I need you to trust me—' he began, but Dean interrupted.

‘Why should I? I don't know you. You could be in with them. Why should I listen to you?'

Why indeed? For a fleeting moment, Daniel toyed with the idea of revealing his past in an attempt to persuade Dean to trust him, but he dismissed the idea. The youngster was too scared and the risk was too great. If Boyd were to find out, the cat would be amongst the proverbial pigeons.

He decided on one last stab in the dark.

‘You overheard Boyd and Dek talking about coming out to the cottage and giving me a working over – is that it?'

‘They didn't do it, though? Did they?'

‘In a manner of speaking,' Daniel said dryly. ‘But I don't think it went entirely to plan.'

‘I wanted to warn you,' Dean's face beseeched him to believe it. ‘But they said, if I did  . . .'

‘ . . . they'd smash your knees.'

‘Yes. I'm sorry.' Dean hung his head miserably, the axe hanging by his side. Behind the closed curtains a whistle blew to signify half-time, and shortly after Stevens senior bellowed out, ‘Dean? Put the kettle on, eh?'

Dean raised his head.

‘My dad,' he said.

‘Yeah, we've already met. He did his best to get rid of me.'

‘He's all right, my dad,' Dean stated loyally, then raised his voice and shouted, ‘Just coming.'

‘Who does the garden – the veg?' Daniel asked.

‘Me, mostly,' Dean said, relaxing into justifiable pride.

‘It looks great. So, what did they say – Boyd and Dek? What did you overhear?'

The guarded look returned in a flash and Daniel sighed.

‘Come on, Dean. You've told me most of it already. Both of them are away for the weekend, so there's no one to know I've been here, and I promise I won't say a word.'

Dean groaned. ‘Oh, all right. I was in the back of the van, see, and they were walking past. Boyd says, “We need to get Whelan out of there before much longer, and anyway I think he could be trouble. Far better get shot of him.” Then Dek says, “So, when do we do it?” and Boyd, he says, “No time like the present. We'll go tonight, late, and give him a night he'll remember. I'll give Macca a shout and see if he's up for it.” Then Dek says, “What about the dog?” I tried to move closer to the side of the van so I could hear what Boyd said next, but I tripped over the pallet and they heard me. I'll never forget Boyd's face when he opened that back door. I thought I was dead, there and then!'

Before Daniel could say anything more, the French windows of the house slid back and Dean's father appeared in the aperture.

‘What the hell? What are you doing here?' he roared, his face turning red with fury.

‘It's all right, Dad,' Dean called.

‘I told him you weren't here.'

‘And yet here he is,' Daniel couldn't resist pointing out, and Stevens senior turned puce.

‘You'd better go,' Dean suggested diplomatically. ‘And please – you won't tell Boyd? You promised.'

‘I won't tell him,' Daniel said, and, whistling to Taz, he left the way he had come in, favouring the youngster's father with a cheery wave.

With time on his hands before meeting up with Drew again, Daniel called in on Boyd's Salvage Spares on his way back to the farm. Rather than go straight to the business end of things, he drove slowly round the navigable alleyways, trying to locate the spot where the aerial photos had shown the buildings to be.

Barely five minutes into his search, however, when he had got out of the car for a closer look, he was confronted by Ricky Boyd on a quad bike, demanding to know what he was up to.

‘Promised I'd repair something for Mrs Summers and was just looking for the right bit of metal,' Daniel lied.

‘Well, you need to come to reception and ask,' Ricky told him. ‘Can't just go rummaging around on your own; it's too dangerous. Health and safety and all that. Didn't you see the notices?' He gestured at the closest one: crudely fashioned, red painted letters on scraps of hardboard, requesting visitors to stay in their cars and ask for assistance at reception.

‘Evidently not,' Daniel said pleasantly.

‘What exactly were you looking for?'

‘Ah, well, it's a bit difficult to explain but I shall know it when I see it.'

Ricky looked understandably sceptical. It was the first time Daniel had seen him without his shades, and, up close, the weak eyes under their puffy brows were reason enough for his preference for sunglasses.

‘What are you trying to repair, then?'

Daniel walked back to his car and opened the driver's door.

‘It's something for the stables. Tell you what, I'll come back when I know more what I'm looking for. Thanks for your help.'

Ricky scowled and moved his quad bike further into the path of the car, but if he thought this would discommode Daniel, he was to be disappointed. Putting the Mercedes into reverse, he backed at speed down the alleyway between the towering walls of scrap until he could turn, and then, with a wave of his hand, headed for the exit.

It had been Daniel's intention to drive straight past Maidstone Farmhouse and on to the stables to meet Drew, but as he drove down the drive, he saw Liam Sellyoak's black Porsche parked untidily in the yard and the man himself standing by the front door with the air of someone who is waiting for a response.

As Daniel slowed up, the footballer turned away from the house and came to meet him, sunglasses perched on his shaved head.

‘Saw you here before, didn't I?' Sellyoak said by way of a greeting.

‘Mrs Summers isn't here. She's at the hospital with her husband.'

‘I thought that might be it. Any news?'

‘Not that I know of,' Daniel said. ‘Can I give her a message?'

‘No, you're all right. I'll call back another time.' He angled towards his car, but Daniel's next words turned him.

‘You want to buy the farm, I understand.'

A flicker of annoyance touched Sellyoak's face. ‘I think that's between Mrs Summers and me.'

‘I'm a friend. She told me. She also said she's not ready to make a decision just yet, so I think you should lay off the pressure. Especially while her husband is so sick.'

‘I'm a busy man, Mr – er, I don't think I caught your name  . . .'

‘Whelan.'

‘Well, Mr Whelan, as I said, I'm a busy man. Got the new season coming up. I don't want to upset her – of course I don't. I just want to get this sorted. If you was a real friend, you'd tell her to accept my offer. She won't get a better one, and this place is too much for a woman on her own.'

‘I'll tell her you called,' Daniel said flatly, and watched while Sellyoak departed with bad grace.

THIRTEEN

C
ontrary to Daniel's expectations, Drew wasn't kicking his heels, waiting for his arrival. He was in the feedstore, helping Sue measure coarse mix into buckets for the horses' teas, a fact that hadn't escaped the notice of the yard's occupants who were variously moving about restlessly, whinnying or banging impatiently on their doors.

‘Hello, Sprout,' Daniel said, ruffling the boy's hair. ‘Had a good day?'

‘Brilliant!' Drew said. ‘Piper was amazing.'

‘You weren't so shabby yourself,' Sue put in from the other side of the feedstore. ‘You've got a natural on your hands, there, Daniel. I reckon he could be a top rider, given the chance.'

‘Mum would never let me have a horse,' Drew said despondently. ‘She thinks they're dirty and smelly.'

‘She might have a point,' Daniel said, tugging the hem of Drew's rather less than pristine T-shirt. ‘But, seriously, we'll have to put our heads together and see if we can come up with something, if you're really keen.'

‘Really?' The boy's shining eyes told their own tale.

‘Yep. Now, when you've got these hungry critters fed, we'll go find something ourselves, and then I thought we might go on an owl hunt.'

‘Excellent! This holiday is turning out to be hist–oric!'

It might have been expected that after a day of outdoor activity, a city boy would be out for the count by ten o'clock that night, but when Daniel followed him upstairs to bed at eleven thirty, a glance into his room found him sitting up in bed, wide awake.

‘Can't you sleep?' he asked.

‘There's a mega conversation going on between two tawny owls in the wood,' Drew replied. ‘Did you know that one owl goes t'wit and another one goes t'woo. It's not one bird.'

‘Actually, I did know that.'

‘I suppose we couldn't go over into the wood with a torch now, could we?'

‘No, we couldn't. Maybe another night.' Even Daniel, who considered himself a fairly keen nature lover, had about had his fill of owls for one day.

‘But they might not be there another night,' he observed wistfully.

‘They nearly always are,' Daniel told him. ‘Sleep now.'

Whether Drew did sleep or not, he wasn't sure, but about an hour later Daniel was woken by the scraping of Taz's claws on the wooden floor, a noise that he was particularly tuned in to. The dog made his way over to the open bedroom door and on to the landing.

‘No, Taz! Go back to Dad! Go on!' Drew said in a stage whisper.

An owl hooted loudly in the woods opposite, and Daniel raised his voice to say resignedly, ‘The front door key's on the hook. You can open it, but don't go out, OK?'

‘Oh, Da–ad.'

‘Promise.'

‘OK.'

‘And make sure you lock it again afterwards.'

‘OK.'

Daniel smiled to himself and rolled over, punching the pillow to get comfortable. He was aware that he'd probably taken the edge off the boy's enjoyment of his midnight escapade, but safety had to come first, especially in the light of recent events.

In spite of having a number of things on his mind, Daniel slipped back into sleep almost immediately, and when he was woken by the revving of car engines and the squeal of tyres, he had no idea how much time had passed.

He sat bolt upright, his heart rate accelerating into the hundreds, as his mind tried to surface through the layers of sleep and sort out what was happening. Taz started barking frantically, his claws scrabbling on the boards as he left the room and charged downstairs.

In a kind of reflex action, Daniel shouted for the dog even as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans from the chair. Whatever the emergency, he wasn't prepared to face it wearing only a pair of thin cotton sleeping shorts.