Almost Eden, page 34
‘Goodnight, Ben.’
‘Goodnight Johnboy Walton, goodnight grandma…’ came from Ben’s room. ‘Goodnight Sophie, goodnight Aunt Betty.’
Shaking my head, I closed my door.
Dawn brought a strange sight to my window. There appeared to be a beached boat on the sand. Figuring that its tether had snapped during the night, I crept quietly downstairs and out the back door. Advancing on the boat, Robby’s image appeared on the slope, shotgun in hand. We both converged on the small white fibreglass boat.
‘Slipped its tether,’ I suggested.
‘No tracks in sand, no track on slope.’
I peeked inside, and then clambered inside. It came equipped with an engine and it looked to be in reasonable condition. Noting the name, “Red Creek”, I called the police and reported it beached here. They would get back to me.
Sophie was up early, eggs for breakfast since we had a good supply, feathers pulled off eggs before boiling. After breakfast I showed her around: the greenhouse, the asparagus, the chicken coops and new pig pens, my daughter amazed that I was now off-grid. I may have failed to point out to her that I simply gave directions and handed over money, but that was just a technicality. If she wanted to be impressed with what I had done, that was fine by me. And it would wind up Wendy to hear about it.
When Ben had finally finished his second coffee, and was ready to face the world, I gave him cash, my car keys, and a list. Off he went. Marcus had barely pulled in when I turned him around, a list of items handed over, cash dispensed. He drove off as I gave Robby a list, a simpler list, and some cash.
It was just me and Sophie, the access road clear of cars for a change. So when a vehicle tooted ten minutes later I stepped out, now curious. A red saloon was parked, an old man with a white beard now emerging, and looking a lot like Santa Claus.
‘Hello there,’ he called as he neared. He pointed, and I followed his finger towards the beached boat. ‘Police called me, about me boat.’
‘Ah, yes.’ As he drew level, we faced the stranded boat, the high tide an hour or two away. ‘Will you come back when it’s high tide?’
‘Thought I might push it down the mud, done that before now I can tell you.’
‘Well, I … can help with that. Would you like a cup of tea first?’
‘Love one, thanks.’
I led the man inside, and he greeted Sophie with a quizzical frown. ‘You alright, my dear?’
‘I was mugged, in London,’ Sophie quickly got out, looking uncomfortable.
‘London? Wouldn’t get me up there; I don’t even like Plymouth.’ He sat as I got the kettle on. Max came bounding up to him. ‘Max?’ My heart stopped, a quick look exchanged with Sophie. ‘This is my puppy!’
‘Yours? Well, what were the chances, a lost puppy and a lost boat?’
‘Lost puppy? It was pinched outside a shop in Kingsbridge.’
‘Pinched,’ I repeated. ‘We found it wandering in our fields, half starved. Been looking after it ever since. If there had been a collar…’
‘There was a collar.’ He wagged a finger. ‘Police say that some young louts took him, green army jacket and dreadlocks.’
‘No one like that around here,’ I suggested. ‘You are, of course, welcome to take the dog back.’
‘Well, I bought me granddaughter another one now, and I don’t want a damn dog in the house, and she won’t want two!’
‘Oh. Well … what do you suggest?’
‘You may as well keep him.’
‘Would you like some money for him, seeing as we’ve adopted your stray dog?’
‘No, no, I can see that you’re a good home. But I’ve seen those louts around, the ones with the funny hair. I’ll have ‘em.’
We chatted over a cup of tea, and I could see Sophie grinning from time to time, my guest keen to slide his boat down the mud. He collected his wellies from his car, and I placed my own wellies on ready, wondering all the while if this was a good idea. Stood on the sand, and with a firm enough footing, we pushed the boat back a few feet easily enough and coaxed it around bit by bit, the boat light at the front, surprisingly light.
Turned around, and now facing downhill – albeit a modest and gradual slope, we lifted the rear as best we could and pushed, soon onto the grey mud. And we were soon moving at a good pace, deep holes made by our boots. All the while, I assumed that he would get onboard at the water’s edge, start the engine and re-position the boat. I had not considered how he might return for his car.
The boat started to gain its own momentum, and I grew worried; I knew this estuary, and this mud could be deadly. I hung onto the back of the boat in case I got stuck, the water looming closer. And with a good hundred yards of moist and deadly mud either side of us I would have no way of getting back.
‘Jump on,’ he suddenly suggested. I did as asked, rolling over and landing on my back, facing up at a blue sky. I righted myself just as he came over the back and I assisted him, and I suddenly registered the gentle motion of the waves. He hurriedly started the small engine, a plume of muddy water created, and we chugged – very slowly – to the middle of the estuary, not a journey I had planned when I got up this morning.
Coming to a halt near his intended target, a red buoy, he tethered us. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘What won’t be long?’ I asked, examining the mess we had made of his boat’s interior. Still, was all white plastic.
‘Another boat.’ Sitting on the side of the boat, he asked me to sit on the opposite side – a counter balance, and he dipped his muddy boots into the water. I copied, hoping not to lose a boot.
Cleaned up, he started to scan the estuary. Spotting a man on a boat, he shouted and waved. As that man un-tethered his own small boat, I took in the blue water beneath me, clear enough to see the bottom, and I stood marvelling at the estate, the greenhouse glistening.
The other boat drew near.
‘Can you take us in?’ Max’s rightful owner called.
‘Sure. You slipped tether in night?’
‘Aye.’
I faced the approaching boat.
‘You that fella?’ came across the water.
‘Roger Banister.’
‘Like the runner.’
I smiled. ‘Yes, like the runner.’
‘Made a pretty penny from the Norton treasure.’
‘Yes, but no signs of any gold, police went top to bottom,’ I made a point of emphasising.
‘Gold is in the estuary,’ the man insisted, my interest piqued. ‘Diver’s found wood and locks from that shipment. It’s in fifty metres.’ He edged alongside and cut his engine.
‘You won’t see me in a wetsuit,’ I told them. And that was true.
With the boats tied off, very little swell in the estuary, we eased over, soon untied again.
Max’s owner pointed at a spot beyond the woods that rested below Robby’s cottage. ‘The landing, if that’s OK.’
The boat lifted its nose and settled as we powered down the estuary, this new craft quite nimble.
‘You done a lot of work on the old place,’ the skipper noted.
‘Yes, I’m going off-grid, and with the economy the way it is – none too soon.’
‘I queued in the bank other day,’ our skipper mentioned. ‘Still, I owe them more than they owe me.’ We laughed like naughty teenagers. ‘If there is a problem and they go bust, they can damn well chase me for it.’
The skipper lined up on a mud bank that I would not have labelled as a landing. Still, the water was calm, and we edged in, soon scraping the bottom of the boat on sand and mud. I followed my Santa Claus impersonator over the side of the boat, a few inches of water negotiated, our skipper waved off and thanked.
‘You know him?’ I asked as we adopted the coastal path and headed back.
‘No, but all boat owners help each other. Do anything for each other. Jesus, what is that bloody smell?’
‘Local pig farmer, I think,’ I suggested, now aware of the effectiveness of Robby chemical warfare, especially on a sunny day with little wind.
We held our noses till past the woods, and I helped my new friend to hose down his wellies, waving him off with a cheery smile a few minutes later. Wellington boots off, I stepped into the kitchen in my socks.
Sophie was shaking her head. ‘You are such an actor, you know that.’
‘I could see how much you like the puppy. I did it for you.’
‘Yeah, right. And pushing that boat out was a foolish stunt, Dad. You had no life jacket, and that mud is treacherous.’
‘Yes, it wasn’t well thought through, but I won’t make that mistake again,’ I promised myself. ‘I had my mobile in my pocket, my wallet, and it could have all got wet. Still, it was great to see the house from the water.’
‘I remember boat rides down here.’
‘There are a few, including a ferry from Kingsbridge down to Salcombe. When you’re feeling better, we’ll take a trip.’
‘That would be nice.’
When my phone went, it was Wendy. ‘Your mother.’ I stepped outside. ‘Wendy?’
‘I got a message from Ben about Sophie, now I can’t reach him. What’s happened?’
‘Ben is out driving, he’s been staying with me in Devon for a few days. But Sophie…’
‘What, what is it?’
‘Sophie was attacked and robbed in London. They took her phone and laptop, her purse, everything. I picked her in the clothes she was in.’
‘Is she hurt?’
‘She … was in hospital for two days, stabbed in the shoulder.’
‘Stabbed?’ Wendy gasped.
‘She’s fine, and a tough old boot, she’s here in Devon with me. The doctors, they did whatever – stitches or surgery – and she’ll have a few check-ups in the future. She also has a hell of a black eye.’
‘My god. Can you put me on with her?’
‘Hold on a second?’ I stepped back into the kitchen, handing the phone over without a word.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I heard as Sophie stepped out of the house, Max trailing along behind her.
She returned more than ten minutes later, handing me the phone. ‘Mum was due back today, but she extended her stay a few days.’
I simply nodded. ‘I can drive you back whenever you need.’
‘Not going anywhere till this black eye has gone and I can move my arm properly. I’m not letting anyone see me like this.’
‘Well, yes, I can understand. Just kick back and relax, eat and drink, and that bruise will be gone before you know it.’
She lifted the puppy onto her.
‘You’ve made a new friend,’ I noted.
‘Never used to like dogs much. Never liked that thing that was here.’
‘Yes, he was … rather old, as far as dogs go. But he kept Aunt Betty company of a cold evening.’
‘Horrible to think of her living like that, all those years alone.’
‘I can see now why she liked us to visit,’ I pointed out. ‘She used to love having you around when you were young.’
She studied me for a moment. ‘You’re not going to end up like her, are you, sat here alone?’
‘My dear, should I ever get any peace and quiet I’ll decide at the time if I don’t like it – and move on. Or get a young Russian bride from a catalogue.’
‘Dad!’
‘What?’ I mock protested. ‘My neighbour did just that.’
Ben burst in with his arms full, bags dumped on the table, my son disappearing straight back out the door. I assisted, and we soon covered the table, bags then placed on the floor.
Sophie lifted a plastic bag. ‘I’m assuming that the pink t-shirt, size small, is not for Robby.’
‘For you, my dear. As well as a toothbrush, paste, comb, and -’ I peered into a bag. ‘- trainers size eight, jeans – hope they fit.’
With an armful of items, Sophie led Max upstairs and changed, back down in jeans – that did fit, trainers, and a pink t-shirt that said ‘If you can afford me, smile.’ I shook my head at it, lifting out a green fleece and helping her ease into it.
I carried a bag down to the cellar before realising Max had clambered inside the damn bag, shouting at him as I stacked items. Ben had bought food that he considered both he and Sophie would like, some exotic items, as well as alcopops – a variety of coloured vodka drinks. I had images of wild student parties keeping me awake.
When Ben dumped his last bag, he stopped and gave me an expectant look. ‘Queues in places, shops busy, saw a scuffle.’
I heaved a big breath and blew out slowly; it had been too easy to enjoy the moment.
‘What is it?’ Sophie asked.
Ben did not answer her, causing her to grow concerned.
I began, ‘I have friends in the city, and … they think that the banks will run out of cash, what with people panicking and withdrawing cash. And the banks were short of cash to start with.’
‘What’ll happen then?’ she asked.
‘Then,’ I began, not sure what I should say, if anything, exchanging a look with Ben. ‘Then … people may go hungry, others will loot the shops. Might not be easy to buy food for a while. But not to worry, I have a huge store here, and when you go you can take cash and tinned food.’
‘That could really happen?’ she asked.
‘That’s already fucking happening,’ Ben snapped, but his anger was not directed towards anyone here.
‘I’m not going back to London if it’s like that,’ Sophie firmly stated, and I could see the fear in her eyes. ‘It was bad enough before.’
‘We’re OK here for months, and by then it’ll be sorted,’ I said, not believing my own words. ‘Come.’ I took her by the hand, and led her downstairs, trying not to trip over Max.
‘Bloody hell, Dad. You stockpiled all this?’
‘Yes, and I can grow my own, and we have electricity. I hadn’t planned it this way, but … when I grew concerned I bought things I knew would last, and things I knew I wouldn’t waste. It’ll all be used, and if there’s no crisis then … I’ve just bought a year’s worth of food upfront. I also have a great many chickens, Robby has a few pigs, we have a small rabbit – just the one right now, and we catch fish.’
‘How long have you been planning this?’
‘A week or two. I’ve been here less than three weeks.’
‘You didn’t do all this in three weeks,’ she challenged.
‘Actually, I did, but Robby is very good.’
I could see her welling up, and I hugged her. She softly began, ‘Sometimes I feel OK, but sometimes I don’t want to go back out there.’
‘We have till September before you have to go back to university,’ I whispered. ‘You’ll be much better by then. Trust me, you’ll get over it.’
‘They were like a pack of animals, hate and anger in their eyes, but they didn’t know me. They didn’t care if I lived or died; I was nothing to them.’
My chest heaved a sigh without any prompting, and I stood stroking her hair, fearful for her future. ‘Some people are like that.’
Back in the kitchen, my phone trilled, and I stepped into the lounge. ‘Hello?’
‘Mister Bannister, it’s Detective Callum.’
My heart sank, I closed my eyes, and I wished very much for this man never to call me again. If only the world would leave me alone. ‘Yes..?’
‘We found a body, the man that was missing. He was in the water a week or so, not much in the way of forensics, a head wound and a chest wound. Doctor thinks he fell onto rocks, then into the water.’
I opened my eyes. ‘No … gunshot wounds?’
‘No, just bruising and cracked rids, cracked skull.’
‘There are no cliffs around here, and on that coastal path there are just small outcrops, about ten feet high, but the tide doesn’t reach their base. If he fell off those - he’d still be there.’
‘Yes, it’s a puzzle. He could have been hit over the head with a rock, but why hit him in the chest with it afterwards? He would have been dead from the first blow.’
‘There is a spot where he could have fallen, and been washed away.’
‘Where?’
‘Other side of my headland. This side is overgrown, but on the other side is a rock about eight feet high, and the high tide comes up to it, about two feet of water. If he fell at low tide, he could have been washed out to sea – no problem.’
‘Eight foot drop; he’d have to be unlucky to die from that.’
‘It’s enough of a drop, and he probably dropped face down, hit his head and chest, probably not dead – just unconscious, and drowned later. Was he robbed?’
‘No, wallet is his back pocket.’
‘If he was snooping around, then he’d definitely make for my headland, and that has a suitable drop.’
‘With all the evidence washed away by now.’
‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘I suppose.’
‘For now its accidental death; someone snooping around the coast at night, unfamiliar with the area.’
‘I’m just glad he wasn’t blasted to death.’
‘I’m trying to find a link to Clinton. Might get lucky.’
‘Any … breakthroughs there?’ I risked.
‘I can’t say, obviously.’
‘No. Well, thanks for the call, I have a house full – my kids off from university.’
‘Mine are six and seven. Wanna swap?’
Laughing, I hung up. Back in the kitchen, the shelves now overflowing with colourful packets, I said, ‘That was the police.’
Ben snapped his head around. ‘What’s happened?’
‘The man that went missing, he fell off a rock, hit his head and chest, drowned, as was washed out to sea – no foul play.’
Ben began, wagging a finger, ‘He could have been injected with radioactive poison by the Russians – that guy’s sexy young wife, then pushed.’
I faced Sophie as she scowled towards her brother. ‘I sometimes feel that I should have sent him to a private school.’
‘Just have him neutered when you do Max,’ she suggested.
Marcus returned from Plymouth, but it was not good news. Meeting him outside, he began, ‘People queuing up in Plymouth, fighting, police at ASDA.’
‘Did you get much?’
‘Goodnight Johnboy Walton, goodnight grandma…’ came from Ben’s room. ‘Goodnight Sophie, goodnight Aunt Betty.’
Shaking my head, I closed my door.
Dawn brought a strange sight to my window. There appeared to be a beached boat on the sand. Figuring that its tether had snapped during the night, I crept quietly downstairs and out the back door. Advancing on the boat, Robby’s image appeared on the slope, shotgun in hand. We both converged on the small white fibreglass boat.
‘Slipped its tether,’ I suggested.
‘No tracks in sand, no track on slope.’
I peeked inside, and then clambered inside. It came equipped with an engine and it looked to be in reasonable condition. Noting the name, “Red Creek”, I called the police and reported it beached here. They would get back to me.
Sophie was up early, eggs for breakfast since we had a good supply, feathers pulled off eggs before boiling. After breakfast I showed her around: the greenhouse, the asparagus, the chicken coops and new pig pens, my daughter amazed that I was now off-grid. I may have failed to point out to her that I simply gave directions and handed over money, but that was just a technicality. If she wanted to be impressed with what I had done, that was fine by me. And it would wind up Wendy to hear about it.
When Ben had finally finished his second coffee, and was ready to face the world, I gave him cash, my car keys, and a list. Off he went. Marcus had barely pulled in when I turned him around, a list of items handed over, cash dispensed. He drove off as I gave Robby a list, a simpler list, and some cash.
It was just me and Sophie, the access road clear of cars for a change. So when a vehicle tooted ten minutes later I stepped out, now curious. A red saloon was parked, an old man with a white beard now emerging, and looking a lot like Santa Claus.
‘Hello there,’ he called as he neared. He pointed, and I followed his finger towards the beached boat. ‘Police called me, about me boat.’
‘Ah, yes.’ As he drew level, we faced the stranded boat, the high tide an hour or two away. ‘Will you come back when it’s high tide?’
‘Thought I might push it down the mud, done that before now I can tell you.’
‘Well, I … can help with that. Would you like a cup of tea first?’
‘Love one, thanks.’
I led the man inside, and he greeted Sophie with a quizzical frown. ‘You alright, my dear?’
‘I was mugged, in London,’ Sophie quickly got out, looking uncomfortable.
‘London? Wouldn’t get me up there; I don’t even like Plymouth.’ He sat as I got the kettle on. Max came bounding up to him. ‘Max?’ My heart stopped, a quick look exchanged with Sophie. ‘This is my puppy!’
‘Yours? Well, what were the chances, a lost puppy and a lost boat?’
‘Lost puppy? It was pinched outside a shop in Kingsbridge.’
‘Pinched,’ I repeated. ‘We found it wandering in our fields, half starved. Been looking after it ever since. If there had been a collar…’
‘There was a collar.’ He wagged a finger. ‘Police say that some young louts took him, green army jacket and dreadlocks.’
‘No one like that around here,’ I suggested. ‘You are, of course, welcome to take the dog back.’
‘Well, I bought me granddaughter another one now, and I don’t want a damn dog in the house, and she won’t want two!’
‘Oh. Well … what do you suggest?’
‘You may as well keep him.’
‘Would you like some money for him, seeing as we’ve adopted your stray dog?’
‘No, no, I can see that you’re a good home. But I’ve seen those louts around, the ones with the funny hair. I’ll have ‘em.’
We chatted over a cup of tea, and I could see Sophie grinning from time to time, my guest keen to slide his boat down the mud. He collected his wellies from his car, and I placed my own wellies on ready, wondering all the while if this was a good idea. Stood on the sand, and with a firm enough footing, we pushed the boat back a few feet easily enough and coaxed it around bit by bit, the boat light at the front, surprisingly light.
Turned around, and now facing downhill – albeit a modest and gradual slope, we lifted the rear as best we could and pushed, soon onto the grey mud. And we were soon moving at a good pace, deep holes made by our boots. All the while, I assumed that he would get onboard at the water’s edge, start the engine and re-position the boat. I had not considered how he might return for his car.
The boat started to gain its own momentum, and I grew worried; I knew this estuary, and this mud could be deadly. I hung onto the back of the boat in case I got stuck, the water looming closer. And with a good hundred yards of moist and deadly mud either side of us I would have no way of getting back.
‘Jump on,’ he suddenly suggested. I did as asked, rolling over and landing on my back, facing up at a blue sky. I righted myself just as he came over the back and I assisted him, and I suddenly registered the gentle motion of the waves. He hurriedly started the small engine, a plume of muddy water created, and we chugged – very slowly – to the middle of the estuary, not a journey I had planned when I got up this morning.
Coming to a halt near his intended target, a red buoy, he tethered us. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘What won’t be long?’ I asked, examining the mess we had made of his boat’s interior. Still, was all white plastic.
‘Another boat.’ Sitting on the side of the boat, he asked me to sit on the opposite side – a counter balance, and he dipped his muddy boots into the water. I copied, hoping not to lose a boot.
Cleaned up, he started to scan the estuary. Spotting a man on a boat, he shouted and waved. As that man un-tethered his own small boat, I took in the blue water beneath me, clear enough to see the bottom, and I stood marvelling at the estate, the greenhouse glistening.
The other boat drew near.
‘Can you take us in?’ Max’s rightful owner called.
‘Sure. You slipped tether in night?’
‘Aye.’
I faced the approaching boat.
‘You that fella?’ came across the water.
‘Roger Banister.’
‘Like the runner.’
I smiled. ‘Yes, like the runner.’
‘Made a pretty penny from the Norton treasure.’
‘Yes, but no signs of any gold, police went top to bottom,’ I made a point of emphasising.
‘Gold is in the estuary,’ the man insisted, my interest piqued. ‘Diver’s found wood and locks from that shipment. It’s in fifty metres.’ He edged alongside and cut his engine.
‘You won’t see me in a wetsuit,’ I told them. And that was true.
With the boats tied off, very little swell in the estuary, we eased over, soon untied again.
Max’s owner pointed at a spot beyond the woods that rested below Robby’s cottage. ‘The landing, if that’s OK.’
The boat lifted its nose and settled as we powered down the estuary, this new craft quite nimble.
‘You done a lot of work on the old place,’ the skipper noted.
‘Yes, I’m going off-grid, and with the economy the way it is – none too soon.’
‘I queued in the bank other day,’ our skipper mentioned. ‘Still, I owe them more than they owe me.’ We laughed like naughty teenagers. ‘If there is a problem and they go bust, they can damn well chase me for it.’
The skipper lined up on a mud bank that I would not have labelled as a landing. Still, the water was calm, and we edged in, soon scraping the bottom of the boat on sand and mud. I followed my Santa Claus impersonator over the side of the boat, a few inches of water negotiated, our skipper waved off and thanked.
‘You know him?’ I asked as we adopted the coastal path and headed back.
‘No, but all boat owners help each other. Do anything for each other. Jesus, what is that bloody smell?’
‘Local pig farmer, I think,’ I suggested, now aware of the effectiveness of Robby chemical warfare, especially on a sunny day with little wind.
We held our noses till past the woods, and I helped my new friend to hose down his wellies, waving him off with a cheery smile a few minutes later. Wellington boots off, I stepped into the kitchen in my socks.
Sophie was shaking her head. ‘You are such an actor, you know that.’
‘I could see how much you like the puppy. I did it for you.’
‘Yeah, right. And pushing that boat out was a foolish stunt, Dad. You had no life jacket, and that mud is treacherous.’
‘Yes, it wasn’t well thought through, but I won’t make that mistake again,’ I promised myself. ‘I had my mobile in my pocket, my wallet, and it could have all got wet. Still, it was great to see the house from the water.’
‘I remember boat rides down here.’
‘There are a few, including a ferry from Kingsbridge down to Salcombe. When you’re feeling better, we’ll take a trip.’
‘That would be nice.’
When my phone went, it was Wendy. ‘Your mother.’ I stepped outside. ‘Wendy?’
‘I got a message from Ben about Sophie, now I can’t reach him. What’s happened?’
‘Ben is out driving, he’s been staying with me in Devon for a few days. But Sophie…’
‘What, what is it?’
‘Sophie was attacked and robbed in London. They took her phone and laptop, her purse, everything. I picked her in the clothes she was in.’
‘Is she hurt?’
‘She … was in hospital for two days, stabbed in the shoulder.’
‘Stabbed?’ Wendy gasped.
‘She’s fine, and a tough old boot, she’s here in Devon with me. The doctors, they did whatever – stitches or surgery – and she’ll have a few check-ups in the future. She also has a hell of a black eye.’
‘My god. Can you put me on with her?’
‘Hold on a second?’ I stepped back into the kitchen, handing the phone over without a word.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I heard as Sophie stepped out of the house, Max trailing along behind her.
She returned more than ten minutes later, handing me the phone. ‘Mum was due back today, but she extended her stay a few days.’
I simply nodded. ‘I can drive you back whenever you need.’
‘Not going anywhere till this black eye has gone and I can move my arm properly. I’m not letting anyone see me like this.’
‘Well, yes, I can understand. Just kick back and relax, eat and drink, and that bruise will be gone before you know it.’
She lifted the puppy onto her.
‘You’ve made a new friend,’ I noted.
‘Never used to like dogs much. Never liked that thing that was here.’
‘Yes, he was … rather old, as far as dogs go. But he kept Aunt Betty company of a cold evening.’
‘Horrible to think of her living like that, all those years alone.’
‘I can see now why she liked us to visit,’ I pointed out. ‘She used to love having you around when you were young.’
She studied me for a moment. ‘You’re not going to end up like her, are you, sat here alone?’
‘My dear, should I ever get any peace and quiet I’ll decide at the time if I don’t like it – and move on. Or get a young Russian bride from a catalogue.’
‘Dad!’
‘What?’ I mock protested. ‘My neighbour did just that.’
Ben burst in with his arms full, bags dumped on the table, my son disappearing straight back out the door. I assisted, and we soon covered the table, bags then placed on the floor.
Sophie lifted a plastic bag. ‘I’m assuming that the pink t-shirt, size small, is not for Robby.’
‘For you, my dear. As well as a toothbrush, paste, comb, and -’ I peered into a bag. ‘- trainers size eight, jeans – hope they fit.’
With an armful of items, Sophie led Max upstairs and changed, back down in jeans – that did fit, trainers, and a pink t-shirt that said ‘If you can afford me, smile.’ I shook my head at it, lifting out a green fleece and helping her ease into it.
I carried a bag down to the cellar before realising Max had clambered inside the damn bag, shouting at him as I stacked items. Ben had bought food that he considered both he and Sophie would like, some exotic items, as well as alcopops – a variety of coloured vodka drinks. I had images of wild student parties keeping me awake.
When Ben dumped his last bag, he stopped and gave me an expectant look. ‘Queues in places, shops busy, saw a scuffle.’
I heaved a big breath and blew out slowly; it had been too easy to enjoy the moment.
‘What is it?’ Sophie asked.
Ben did not answer her, causing her to grow concerned.
I began, ‘I have friends in the city, and … they think that the banks will run out of cash, what with people panicking and withdrawing cash. And the banks were short of cash to start with.’
‘What’ll happen then?’ she asked.
‘Then,’ I began, not sure what I should say, if anything, exchanging a look with Ben. ‘Then … people may go hungry, others will loot the shops. Might not be easy to buy food for a while. But not to worry, I have a huge store here, and when you go you can take cash and tinned food.’
‘That could really happen?’ she asked.
‘That’s already fucking happening,’ Ben snapped, but his anger was not directed towards anyone here.
‘I’m not going back to London if it’s like that,’ Sophie firmly stated, and I could see the fear in her eyes. ‘It was bad enough before.’
‘We’re OK here for months, and by then it’ll be sorted,’ I said, not believing my own words. ‘Come.’ I took her by the hand, and led her downstairs, trying not to trip over Max.
‘Bloody hell, Dad. You stockpiled all this?’
‘Yes, and I can grow my own, and we have electricity. I hadn’t planned it this way, but … when I grew concerned I bought things I knew would last, and things I knew I wouldn’t waste. It’ll all be used, and if there’s no crisis then … I’ve just bought a year’s worth of food upfront. I also have a great many chickens, Robby has a few pigs, we have a small rabbit – just the one right now, and we catch fish.’
‘How long have you been planning this?’
‘A week or two. I’ve been here less than three weeks.’
‘You didn’t do all this in three weeks,’ she challenged.
‘Actually, I did, but Robby is very good.’
I could see her welling up, and I hugged her. She softly began, ‘Sometimes I feel OK, but sometimes I don’t want to go back out there.’
‘We have till September before you have to go back to university,’ I whispered. ‘You’ll be much better by then. Trust me, you’ll get over it.’
‘They were like a pack of animals, hate and anger in their eyes, but they didn’t know me. They didn’t care if I lived or died; I was nothing to them.’
My chest heaved a sigh without any prompting, and I stood stroking her hair, fearful for her future. ‘Some people are like that.’
Back in the kitchen, my phone trilled, and I stepped into the lounge. ‘Hello?’
‘Mister Bannister, it’s Detective Callum.’
My heart sank, I closed my eyes, and I wished very much for this man never to call me again. If only the world would leave me alone. ‘Yes..?’
‘We found a body, the man that was missing. He was in the water a week or so, not much in the way of forensics, a head wound and a chest wound. Doctor thinks he fell onto rocks, then into the water.’
I opened my eyes. ‘No … gunshot wounds?’
‘No, just bruising and cracked rids, cracked skull.’
‘There are no cliffs around here, and on that coastal path there are just small outcrops, about ten feet high, but the tide doesn’t reach their base. If he fell off those - he’d still be there.’
‘Yes, it’s a puzzle. He could have been hit over the head with a rock, but why hit him in the chest with it afterwards? He would have been dead from the first blow.’
‘There is a spot where he could have fallen, and been washed away.’
‘Where?’
‘Other side of my headland. This side is overgrown, but on the other side is a rock about eight feet high, and the high tide comes up to it, about two feet of water. If he fell at low tide, he could have been washed out to sea – no problem.’
‘Eight foot drop; he’d have to be unlucky to die from that.’
‘It’s enough of a drop, and he probably dropped face down, hit his head and chest, probably not dead – just unconscious, and drowned later. Was he robbed?’
‘No, wallet is his back pocket.’
‘If he was snooping around, then he’d definitely make for my headland, and that has a suitable drop.’
‘With all the evidence washed away by now.’
‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘I suppose.’
‘For now its accidental death; someone snooping around the coast at night, unfamiliar with the area.’
‘I’m just glad he wasn’t blasted to death.’
‘I’m trying to find a link to Clinton. Might get lucky.’
‘Any … breakthroughs there?’ I risked.
‘I can’t say, obviously.’
‘No. Well, thanks for the call, I have a house full – my kids off from university.’
‘Mine are six and seven. Wanna swap?’
Laughing, I hung up. Back in the kitchen, the shelves now overflowing with colourful packets, I said, ‘That was the police.’
Ben snapped his head around. ‘What’s happened?’
‘The man that went missing, he fell off a rock, hit his head and chest, drowned, as was washed out to sea – no foul play.’
Ben began, wagging a finger, ‘He could have been injected with radioactive poison by the Russians – that guy’s sexy young wife, then pushed.’
I faced Sophie as she scowled towards her brother. ‘I sometimes feel that I should have sent him to a private school.’
‘Just have him neutered when you do Max,’ she suggested.
Marcus returned from Plymouth, but it was not good news. Meeting him outside, he began, ‘People queuing up in Plymouth, fighting, police at ASDA.’
‘Did you get much?’
