Authors: Karen Swan
‘She’ll be okay,’ he said. ‘She’s going to the best place, with the best people. They’ll take care of her.’
He squeezed Sophie’s hand and she looked at him, wondering who he was trying to convince – her or himself.
The drone of the blades suffocated any further conversation and the pilot handed them each some ear protectors, isolating them with their own muffed thoughts as the helicopter rose into the
bruised sky and into the slipstream of the air ambulance.
When she awoke, purple clouds still sat fatly below them, giving away nothing of what lay beneath. But Sophie knew they had to be nearly there. She checked her watch. Nearly 5
a.m. They had been flying for almost two and a half hours now.
The helicopter began to lose altitude, and as they dug through the woolly night covers, London’s grey hub slowly emerged. This had been her home before she’d started working for Pia,
and she hadn’t been back in three years. Looking down on it now, from this spectacular and privileged aerial vantage, she still remembered all too clearly why. She remembered every hour of
every day. She didn’t need to come back here to remember. The problem was trying to forget. She bit her lip anxiously. This was the last place she wanted to be – but Pia needed her. She
couldn’t let her down.
She watched blankly as the capital’s neatly parcelled-up terraces spilt out of their boxes into sprawling suburban gardens, before opening out into large and vast fields which were
punctuated by stray ancient copses and hedgerows as unending over the horizon as railway tracks.
In front of them, the air ambulance hovered, then started its steady descent to a long, rolling lawn. She thought of Pia in there, alone with the medics: hooked up, knocked out and broken.
Will and Sophie hung suspended, like a cot mobile, in the sky above her, as they watched the ambulance touch down. They could see the emergency team standing, braced. They looked so tiny, like
dolls.
A trolley was pushed forward, the doctors’ white coats flying like windsocks behind them, and for a moment Will caught sight of Pia as she was carried out on the stretcher. His breath
caught at the sight of her again. Hours earlier she’d been like a tornado, a furious and resplendent life force that sucked the air out of the room in her wake. Now, motionless a hundred feet
below, she looked as fragile as parchment, like a dead butterfly. As she was wheeled from sight, a shaft of dawn light hit the majestic colours on her raggedy couture dress, and he found himself
wondering – not for the first time – why it was that for all her talent and pride and passion, there always seemed to be something about her that was fraying.
It wasn’t until they got to Basel, on the Swiss–German border, that Tanner allowed himself to relax. They had made good time, in spite of the delayed start. Some
socialite had stepped in front of a horse and broken her foot, and all of a sudden the entire Swiss emergency services were descending upon St Moritz, clogging up the roads and airspace, and making
a racket that had left it all but impossible for him to sleep.
They’d had to leave an hour later than planned, but still they had passed through the Engadine valley to Saglians by 7 a.m. and were first onto the motor-rail at the Vereina tunnel,
loading up the large 44-ton horseboxes. In theory it would have been easier to just drive along the Julier pass but with a sheer drop on one side for a 25-mile stretch and the roads so narrow, he
wasn’t taking any chances. His cargo was insured for £2 million and Will Silk would chase him to the gates of hell if anything happened to it.
Once they’d arrived in Klosters and had a quick breakfast, they’d travelled north-west to Zurich, stopping every two hours to feed and water the horses, and turn the hay; then
north-westwards again to Basel, where they would now have to endure reams of red tape as they moved the three-lorry, ten-pony convoy from Switzerland back into the EU.
Slowly, Tanner manoeuvred the horsebox into the bay. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, exhausted. It was 1.25 p.m. and everyone was tired and hungry. In his wing mirrors, he could
see the grooms and stable hands in the trucks behind were beginning to get testy, and Tanner knew they all needed to stretch their legs and crack on with lunch. He hoped they could get through this
section quickly.
A Swiss border guard in a navy-blue uniform with bright epaulettes and a navy baseball cap, was approaching the horsebox. Tanner rolled down the window and opened the glove compartment, pulling
out a thick wad of official documents.
‘
Guten Tag
,’ the man said, holding out his hand for the paperwork.
Tanner handed it to him with a weary smile.
The guard flicked his eyes over the sheets for a moment, then stepped back and looked at the other two lorries. ‘Thank you, sir. Would you like to come with me?’ The guard indicated
a wooden hut with an overhanging sloping roof.
‘Sure,’ Tanner replied. ‘Jessy, climb up to my bunk, will you? You’ll find some crisps and drinks there. Go and give them to the others. They’re probably chewing
their fists by now.’
Jessy, his head groom and erstwhile lover, with round brown eyes, a bouncy blonde bob and even bouncier body, laughed her dirty laugh and scrambled into the back.
Tanner followed the guard into the hut and they sat down on hard blue plastic chairs. Meticulously, the guard read through the twelve-page livery inventory – twenty-two saddles;
twenty-eight bits; twenty-three numnahs and so on – the copious vet’s records and list of veterinary medicines on board, the horses’ affiliation to the HPA, pro formas, and the
entire crew’s passports.
By the end of it all, fifty minutes later, Tanner was so nearly asleep and had put his signature to so many declarations, he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t signed himself up to
national service, or donating a kidney.
‘Thank you. My colleague and I will run through the checks on the lorries, then you can go.’
Tanner nodded, relieved. Jessy could do the next shift of driving, through Strasbourg, Reims and up to Calais. He needed to rest. The guard indicated to another, and the two of them walked with
Tanner back to the trucks.
‘Okay, everybody out,’ Tanner shouted. ‘We’re nearly done.’
The grooms and stable hands all converged outside the trucks as the two guards moved through the horseboxes, starting at the back.
‘Tanner,’ Jessy whispered, skittering over and looking slightly wild-eyed.
‘Mmm?’ Tanner said, not really hearing her. He was scanning the paperwork he’d been given. Satisfied nothing had been forgotten, he stuffed it all into the plastic wallet and
tucked it under his arm.
‘Tanner. I need to talk to you,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Urgently.’
‘What is it?’ he asked, concerned. She wasn’t the type to make a fuss.
‘This,’ she said, pulling up her T-shirt and revealing a small plastic bag filled with white powder in the waistband of her jodhpurs.
His eyes widened with horror. He glanced back down at the guards, who were in the first horsebox, and up towards the office where three more guards had come in and were talking together by the
desk.
‘Where the hell did you get that?’ he hissed, his mouth set in a grim line.
‘It’s not mine,’ she hissed, eyes pleading. ‘I found it just now in your bunk when I went to get the snacks.’
‘What?’ he growled. ‘
I
didn’t put it there. I’ve not touched the stuff.’ Jessy squinted at him. ‘Well, not for years anyway.’
‘I swear I don’t know how this got on board, Tanner,’ she promised. ‘If I’d so much as seen someone sniff around here, I’d have clouted them.’
There was a brief pause.
‘Oh no,’ Tanner exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut as the penny dropped.
Alonso.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, trying to keep the panic from his face. ‘Was there any more?’
The guards progressed to the second horsebox.
Jessy shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I searched the cabin as much as I could, but I knew they’d be out with you any minute and I didn’t want to be found looking like I was
hiding
stuff.’ Tears were threatening and her bottom lip wobbled.
Carefully, without attracting the guards’ attention, Tanner reached his arm to hers and gently rubbed it. ‘It’s okay. You’ve done the right thing. It’s okay,’
he murmured. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.’
‘But – what should I do about this?’ she cast her eyes down to her tummy again. ‘What if they search us?’
‘There’s no reason they should. All our paperwork’s in order. Everything’s above board.’
The guards were in the final horsebox now, Tanner’s truck. Two of the guards in the office came out, and for the first time Tanner could see they had dogs with them.
‘Oh my God,’ Jessy trembled. ‘This is a nightmare.’
‘Just keep it together, Jessy,’ he urged quietly. ‘We’ll be through in a couple of minutes now. They’re not interested in us. It’s all just a
formality.’
But the guards were walking directly towards their group, the dogs pulling excitedly, and Jessy stepped back, terrified.
‘Okay, I’ll deal with this,’ Tanner said and he marched forward, meeting them way ahead of the convoy.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, his smile masking his desperation to keep those dogs away from Jessy. ‘But are the dogs going into the trucks? I know you’ve got your job to do, and
I don’t mean to be obstructive, but there are already two guards in there and I’m worried the dogs will upset the horses. They’re nervy at the best of times, and obviously they
are very tired at the moment, what with the tournament and this journey.’
The guards looked at each other, and around Tanner to the huddle of grooms standing on the pavement. They formed a motley crew, all propping each other up, swigging from Coke bottles and smoking
Marlboros.
The taller guard jerked his chin towards them. ‘It is not permitted to smoke here.’
‘Oh . . . right. No smoking. Of course. Absolutely,’ Tanner cried, relief flooding his face. ‘I’ll get them to stop immediately.’
He turned and marched back to them all. ‘Everybody, lights out. Come on, quickly. Smoking’s not allowed. Hurry up.’
Reluctantly and silently they all dropped their cigarettes to the ground, grinding them beneath their feet. They were desperate to get out of here.
If only they knew, Tanner thought, stealing a glance at Jessy. She still looked jumpy.
The door of the horsebox was slammed shut and the two guards came round, poker-faced, one of them holding a brown paper bag.
Oh shit!
The guard held up the bag. ‘Whose is this?’
There was a shuffle of feet. No one said anything. Slowly, Tanner raised a hand. ‘It’s mine,’ he said quietly. He needed to get Jessy and the others out of here.
‘This is contraband. Taking it out of Switzerland and into the European Union constitutes a contravention of the CITES quotas as administered by UNEP,’ the guard said
robotically.
Tanner nodded, although he had no idea what the guard was on about. ‘I – I’m sorry. It was for personal use only, though . . . if that makes a difference . . .’ His voice
trailed away.
The two guards spoke quickly to each other in German. Tanner didn’t have a clue what they were saying, but it couldn’t be good. Nothing in German ever sounded good.
He looked at Jessy, who looked as though she was going to pass out. He tried to give what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
‘We are confiscating this from you.’
‘Of course,’ Tanner replied, eyes downcast.
There was a pause.
‘You can go.’
Tanner’s head snapped up. ‘Huh?’
‘You can go. All the checks are complete now.’
‘You’re not going . . . to . . . arrest me?’
The guard cracked the faintest of smiles. ‘Not unless you want me to.’
Tanner held his hands up in relief. ‘No. No. I’m good. Thank you. Thank you very much.’
The guards turned and walked back to the hut, laughing quietly among themselves.
With a look of unadulterated gratitude written all over his face, Tanner swept his arm round for everyone to climb back into the trucks.
‘We’ll stop for lunch outside Strasbourg, everybody,’ he called, as the cab doors opened and shut.
Climbing back into the driver’s seat – he felt completely awake now – he shifted the truck into first and slowly pulled away, giving a small salute of thanks as they passed the
guards.
‘Holy shit! Can you believe we got away with that?’ he asked, eyes bright, as they built up speed on the autoroute. ‘When they brought that bag out . . .’ He gave a low
whistle. ‘I can’t believe they let me go. It must have just come under the personal-usage quota.’
Jessy shook her head slowly.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I know I shouldn’t have taken it. It’s just . . . I was going to give it to my mother for her birthday next
week.’
‘What?’ Tanner looked at her in disbelief.
Jessy shrugged. ‘I figured it was worth a shot. After all, who would really miss it?’
Tanner tried to keep up. ‘Jessy, what was in the bag?’
‘Some beluga caviar I nicked from the kitchens at the party last night,’ she replied in a slow, low voice.
Tanner threw his head back and fell about laughing. ‘Caviar? Jesus, Jessy! I thought they’d found a haul of coke! I thought I was going to be busted for drug smuggling!’ he
roared.
He looked over at Jessy. She was uncharacteristically quiet.
‘Hey. You still worried about that bag of coke? Listen, it’s all okay now. You can relax. You did exactly the right thing.’ He squeezed her knee lightly. ‘I’ve got
a very good idea of who that stash belonged to, and don’t you worry – they won’t be getting away with it. Here, give it to me – I’ll take it for you.’
Jessy looked at him and he was shocked to realize that she was still terrified.
‘I can’t,’ she said, bursting into tears.
‘Why not?’ he asked, his eyes switching rapidly between her and the road.
‘Because I swallowed it.’
‘Back home in Ireland, we called these “soft days”,’ Sophie said quietly, mainly to herself. She was sitting on the window sill, her legs tucked under
her willowy frame. Her cheek was pressed to the glass as she looked out into the dreary January mizzle. The air was as saturated as it could be without actually raining, which for some reason felt
more depressing than if it had rained. She blew hot air onto the window, and the view smudged into oblivion.