Fear of the Fathers (24 page)

Laying down the photograph she stumbled to the kitchen. The fridge was almost empty, but there were still a couple of eggs and a few rashers of bacon looking lonely on the middle shelf. In the hope that eating might help her sleep she cooked up the meagre offerings and ate them with a couple of slices of toast. But although the food lay heavily, she was still wide awake and sick with fatigue.

Her irritation was once again reaching boiling point when the buzzer sounded. She dragged herself to the intercom. “Hello,” she whispered.

“It is Daniel,” said the voice. “Daniel Alonso.”

“What do you want?”

“I am worried about you.”

“Listen Daniel, just go back to your car and get the hell out of here. All I need at the moment is sleep.”

The buzzer sounded again, but she ignored it.

As a last resort she went to the bathroom cabinet. Behind a wall of plasters and cough remedies she found an old packet of Valium from years before when she'd slipped a disc. They were six months past their usage date but she no longer cared. She popped a couple out and washed them down with water from the tap. Ten minutes later she was curled up in her bed, slowly drifting away into a land of disturbing and complex dreams.

The squawking of a crow brought Annie back round. Immediately she felt an acute pain in her right temple. Moving her hand up to soothe it, she opened her eyes and looked to the skies. There was no rain as yet, but great, billowing thunderclouds stared down at her with ominous intent. With difficulty she raised herself to a sitting position and shook her head to clear the haze.

She was in a pool of sticky mud. To her right was a stone wall, and to her left a small hill. She looked up and figured that after bridging the rise and reaching David she must have toppled over the side. But what had happened since? For how long had she been out?

The pain in her head shot through her nervous system like a thousand needles, causing her to cry out. “Fuck!” She winced as her eyes started to water.

She struggled to her feet and looked around. The stone wall was just above waist height and on the other side, slightly obscured by hedgerow, was a road. The slope she had tumbled down was grassy and at a forgiving forty degree angle. With no real idea or sense of purpose she climbed back up the ten yards or so to the top.

From her vantage point she had a good view of the surrounding landscape, apart from the road which was still mostly hidden by branches and leaves. A couple of cars whizzed by, oblivious to her plight. There was no sign of either David or her mother. She sighed.

Still directionless she decided to return to the car park, in the hope that Kamal's car might still be there. She slid down the muddy rise on her backside, and squelched along the path to the trees. Her hopes raised as she caught sight of the Subaru's bonnet poking through the light foliage. She picked up her pace.

The Subaru was unlocked but the keys were nowhere to be found. Annie leant against the side of the car wondering what to do next. She was lost and alone. Without access to a mobile phone her only option was to walk to the main road, flag down a car and go to the police. She pulled herself together and made ready to move.

As she was about to set off something caught her eye. On the gravel, about eight feet from the car, she saw a pool of blood. Walking over to it slowly, she bent down and took a closer look. Leading away from it, almost invisible from a distance, were small red drips. Stooping to keep close to the trail she followed them over the gravel, up a bank, and into the trees. But after another twenty feet, in a small clearing, the blood suddenly stopped. She scanned the area carefully for signs of disturbance.

With nothing visible she turned back. As she did she caught a low moan coming from a dense patch of ferns. She walked over to investigate, and pushing back the large leaves she found the source of the noise. It was Kamal. Blood trickled from his mouth. He smiled at her.

Annie thrust aside the ferns and knelt down beside him. “What happened?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I've been better,” whispered Kamal, choking on his words. “What about you?”

“I'll survive,” she said. “But we need to get you to a hospital.”

“No,” spluttered Kamal. “No hospital.”

Annie stroked his brow. “Can you move?” she asked.

“I think so. I have not tried. I have been asleep.” With Annie's help he lifted himself to a sitting position. “Thank you,” he said.

“So tell me,” she said, “what happened to you? They said you were dead.”

“I nearly was,” said Kamal. “And I still might be yet. I have been shot.”

“Where?” said Annie. “I can't see anything.”

“Back,” he rasped.

Annie looked round and gasped. The back of Kamal's shirt was drenched with blood. Two dark bullet holes stuck out just below his left shoulder blade. “Listen to me Kamal,” she said. “You've got to let me take you to a hospital. You're not going to survive otherwise. I can't patch you up. And there's no way you can do yourself.”

“I know someone,” he said. “You must take me to him.”

“Who? Where?” she said urgently.

Kamal reached gingerly into his trouser pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. “The number is in here,” he said, pressing buttons. “You must speak to him and tell him that ‘Cobra' needs urgent attention. I must lie down.”

Annie took the phone and held it to her ear. After three rings a voice answered. She repeated what Kamal had said. The man on the other end said he would be ready for their arrival. She hung up and looked down at her fallen friend. His eyes were closed.

“Kamal,” she said. “Kamal?”

He opened his eyes.

“He said he'll be ready for us. We have to get to the car.” Putting her arms underneath him she strained to pull his body upright. Then she stood up and helped him to his feet.

They hobbled slowly towards the car, Kamal's large muscular frame making Annie's task heavy going. After laying him on the back seat, she took the keys and started the engine.

She took a few breaths to steady herself. “Right then,” she said. “Where are we going?”

Annie put her foot down and careered along the Oxford Road possessed. From his rasping voice, she could tell that Kamal's condition was deteriorating rapidly. Having no idea where she was going, she prayed that he would stay conscious to direct her. Approaching some traffic lights she screeched to a halt as they turned red.

“Right,” she said. “We're at a crossroads. There's a hotel to the left and a filling station to the right.”

“Is it Hopcroft's Holt?” wheezed Kamal.

Annie looked at the hotel. “Yes, it is,” she replied.

“Good…Carry on…Take next right.”

The lights went green and Annie floored it. She raced dangerously through the wide avenue of trees, heart in mouth and head in fierce concentration. Taking a bend uncomfortably she saw a right turning a hundred yards ahead. She piled on the brakes and swung in, the back of the car skidding out and only just missing the kerb.

She drove down a narrow lane, dark and roofed with threatening trees. “Is this right?” she asked.

Kamal didn't answer.

She repeated the question, but getting no reply, she turned round. Kamal was gone, possibly dead. “Fuck!” she screamed. She had no choice but to carry on and hope that she was on the right track.

The lane became narrower and bumpier, until at last it opened up onto a driveway. In front of her, enclosed by the murky wood, she saw a white thatched cottage. With the road at a dead end, and no other buildings in sight, she pulled up and ran to the black wooden door.

“Hello!” she hollered, knocking rapidly. “Hello!”

Five seconds later a man with blonde punk-spiked hair answered the door. He was at least six-foot-four, looked like he was late twenties, early thirties, and he had large round violet eyes that appeared unnaturally wide and manic. Annie took a step back.

“Annie?” he said.

“Yes,” she said, regaining her composure.

“Where's the Cobra?”

“He's in the back of the car. I think he might be dead.”

They ran to the car and the man checked Kamal for a pulse. “He's still alive,” he said. “But only just. We need to get him inside to my table. I need you to help me lift him.”

With great difficulty they manoeuvred Kamal out of the car and across to the cottage. Once inside they heaved him through a hallway and into a bright white room at the back, which had a table and walls lined with surgical instruments and drips. With one last gargantuan effort they dragged him face down onto the table, leaning his head to one side.

Annie stooped with her hands on her knees gasping for breath, while the man placed an oxygen mask over Kamal's mouth. “Any medical experience?” he asked hopefully.

Annie shook her head.

“Don't worry, just do as I say and everything will be alright. I'm Marvo by the way.”

He ripped off Kamal's shirt, then scrubbed his hands in the sink and got Annie to do the same. They both put on masks and caps. With an instrument in either hand he set about Kamal's wounds.

“How bad is it?” said Annie, as she watched him work.

“On a scale of one to ten, I'd give it a ten,” said Marvo. “I'm surprised he's still here to be honest. One of the bullets looks like it's only just missed his heart. This is going to take a while, we need some music.”

Annie watched bemused as Marvo went to the far corner of the room and switched on a stereo, turning it up to an unrespectable volume. She recognized the tune.

“Do you like Wagner?” he shouted.

“I don't know, I've never really listened to him.”

“I find him a bit tuneless to be honest, but this is great – it's called ‘Ride of the Valkyries'.” He waved his scalpel and sang along.

They had been in the room for over four hours when he finally pulled his mask down. “That's it,” he said. “There's nothing else I can do. It's up to him now. If he's got the strength, he'll survive. If not, well…”

They wheeled him to a large downstairs room containing a double bed and laid him on it. He looked peaceful. Marvo hooked him up to a drip.

“When will he come round,” Annie asked.

“Who knows?” said Marvo. “One hour. Two hours. Maybe longer…Maybe never.” He looked at her and smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry though, I think he'll pull through. I'm the best fucking surgeon in the world.”

He led her through to a large rustic kitchen and they sat down at a solid rectangular oak table. “I expect you're hungry aren't you?” he said.

“I hadn't really thought about it,” said Annie. “But now you mention it.”

“I'll do some pasta in a minute. In the meantime I'd better clean up that cut on your head.”

Annie looked at him mystified. “What cut?” she said.

“Take a look in the mirror,” said Marvo. “There's one just outside in the hallway.”

Annie went to see what Marvo was talking about. The reflection in the mirror shocked her. Her right temple was caked with dry blood. Touching it lightly she grimaced. Casting her mind back, the only explanation she could think of was that she had hit her head on a rock when bridging the muddy slope. This would explain her dizziness and subsequent black out.

Walking back into the kitchen she found Marvo filling a small bowl with hot water and antiseptic.

“Sit down,” he said. “And we'll get you clean.”

Marvo worked quickly and gently, stopping whenever the stinging became too much. After five minutes careful swabbing he examined the cut carefully. “Mmm,” he murmured.

“What's up?” said Annie.

“It's quite a big gash,” said Marvo. “I think I'm going to have to put a couple of stitches in.” He left the room and came back a minute later with a needle and surgical thread.

“Aren't you going to give me an anaesthetic?” she asked.

“Not a conventional one, no,” he replied. “Just lean your head back, close your eyes, and relax.”

Annie couldn't remember exactly what happened, but one minute she was listening to Marvo's soothing voice, and the next she was wide awake with her head neatly stitched.

“All done,” said Marvo cheerfully.

“What happened?” she said. “I feel a bit weird.”

“I just hypnotized you, that's all. It's a technique I've been practising for a while. It's a lot less stressful for the patient.”

Annie sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. “Well,” she said. “It certainly works. I didn't feel a thing.”

While Marvo cleared away his gear and started on dinner, Annie went to see Kamal. He was still unconscious, but a small smile had appeared on his face. She took his hand and caressed it warmly. Her affection for him was growing rapidly. The thought of him dying was too much to bear. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and recited a little prayer: for him and her family.