Outside Chance (21 page)

Ben ignored the threat.

‘Some people would say you'd got a cushy number: married to the boss's daughter; job security; house thrown in; but I guess it's not all a bed of roses . . .'

Finch back-pedalled, plainly regretting his improvident outburst.

‘It has its moments but it's all right. It's a very good job.'

‘But sometimes you'd like a little more freedom – that's natural.' Ben made it a statement, and there was no denial.

‘So, have you got the hijacked lorry back now?'

Ben and Ian Rice were approaching the lorry park. It was almost dark, the sun having set into a glorious red sky, and the horses had all been groomed, fed and settled for the night.

‘Yes, we got it back yesterday. It's the one on the end. The police have had their forensics people go through it with a fine-toothed comb. They even found a contact lens I lost a couple of weeks ago.'

‘Now that is thorough,' Ben agreed.

‘Do you want to see inside?'

Ben felt a cold sweat breaking out at the very thought. Could it really have been less than twenty-four hours since the drama with the Magyar horse? He wasn't sure he had the willpower to face his fear again so soon.

‘No, I don't think so. Like you say, the police have been over it.'

Rice looked slightly puzzled. ‘Yeah, but I meant, you know, for the article.'

Ben could have kicked himself. For a moment
he'd forgotten all about the supposed article. He blamed tiredness. He'd had less than three hours' sleep after the drama of the previous night.

‘Thanks. It's great to have all the background stuff, but I think my editor really wanted me to concentrate on the horses themselves.'

‘Come and see anyway,' Rice urged, his hand on the cab door.

Taking the emotional equivalent of a deep breath, Ben climbed up into the cab behind the travelling head lad and followed him through a narrow doorway to the area behind, where a small lounge-cum-dining space provided potential relaxation for those looking after the horses on a long day away. The shallow compartment above the cab, known as the luton, was shut off behind sliding wooden doors, and contained a thin mattress and a couple of pillows. This, then, was the place where Mikey had slept through most of the hijack. It wasn't hard to see how he'd remained undiscovered, staying as quiet as he obviously had.

Another narrow door led to the main body of the lorry, where the horses spent their journeys to and from the racecourses, hemmed in by padded dividers, standing on rubber matting and watched over via video links to the cab and seating compartment.

Rice held the door open so Ben could see into the back of the box. He leaned through to give it the obligatory admiring glance, feeling his chest begin to contract even then. In truth, although beautifully equipped, the Csikós' monster transporters cast the Castle Ridge lorries firmly into
the shade; this was as one would expect, of course, for the Hungarians and their horses had to live in theirs for the best part of the summer.

As soon as he reasonably could, Ben made his way back into the cab and from there to the outside, greeting the bitter evening air with relief.

Rice locked the lorry and led the way back to the cottage, where they found Mikey and Bess in the kitchen. The others – Davy, Les and Caterpillar – had apparently gone with a group of lads ‘down the chippy'.

‘Coffee or tea, Ben?' Bess asked, her hand hovering over a selection of containers.

‘Coffee would be wonderful. Strong and black.' He was dog-tired now, and the warmth of the Aga in the cottage kitchen was having a soporific effect.

‘Did you see Rommel and Kaiser?' Mikey asked, almost childishly eager. He'd always loved dogs.

‘I did.' With a guilty start Ben then remembered Mouse, confined to the Mitsubishi all afternoon. ‘Would anyone object if I brought my dog over?'

Subsiding into a rather ropey armchair in the corner, Rice had taken one boot off and was massaging his foot. He shook his head. ‘Shouldn't think so. As long as it's friendly.'

‘Oh, Mouse is very friendly,' Mikey said.

‘Well, actually she can be a bit stand-offish, but she doesn't bite or anything,' Ben amended.

‘All animals are friendly with you,' Rice pointed out to Mikey. ‘Did you know, Ben, your brother here has even made friends with the
guard dogs? I'm not sure the Guvnor would be too happy if he knew!'

‘They weren't out again the other night,' Mikey said. ‘I went out to watch the badgers in the copse and when I came back I whistled for the boys and they didn't come. They must have been shut in.'

‘What time was that?' Rice asked.

‘'Bout ten-thirty.'

‘Oh, I doubt it, then. Ray would have gone to bed by then, and you should have, too.'

‘No. Ray was still up. He had his light on. Can I go and fetch Mouse for you, Ben?'

‘With pleasure.' Ben took the keys from his pocket and held them out. ‘It's locked but the alarm's disabled. It kept going off, so I disconnected it. Don't tell my insurance company!'

They sat companionably round the table and, in due course, Mikey returned with Mouse, whose melting brown eyes and air of gentle neglect made an instant hit with Bess. After another half-hour or so, Bess suggested sausage, fried mash and beans, and somehow Ben found himself staying for the meal.

Afterwards, the conversation rambled on but Ben took less and less part in it, until suddenly he found himself face down on the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He jerked upright and found Bess and Mikey laughing at him. They appeared to be playing chess – a game at which, oddly, Mikey excelled. Rice had retired to his saggy armchair and was out for the count.

‘God, I'm sorry!' Ben said. ‘Did I nod off?'

‘Yeah. Two hours ago!' Mikey said. ‘We thought
we were going to have to make you up a bed for the night.'

‘We could probably squeeze you in, at a push,' Bess said seriously. ‘But it might be the sofa.'

Ben shook his head. ‘Thanks, but I'd better get back.'

It took a considerable effort to drag himself away from the peace and warmth of the little kitchen, but a look at his watch informed him that it was past ten, and he knew the cottage wouldn't be half as peaceful when the other lads returned. Mouse disagreed with his decision, and he had to take hold of her collar and forcibly remove her from the building. Casting him a reproachful look, she immediately began to shiver in the sharp, frosty air outside.

Unlike Mikey, Ben hadn't the propensity for catnapping and waking refreshed, and all his sleep had done for him was to leave him feeling even more heavy-eyed than he had before. The relatively short drive home was accomplished without driving into any hedges or running any red lights that he was aware of, but he was extremely glad that he hadn't got any motorway driving to do.

Turning thankfully on to the small rectangle of gravel he called his own, Ben was at first puzzled and then dismayed to find it already half-occupied by Lisa's Beetle.

‘Oh, shit!' he said forcefully under his breath, recalling – way too late – her telephone message of that morning. She'd have every right to be mad at him now.

THERE WAS A
light on in the hall and Lisa's full-length faux sheepskin coat hung on the old-fashioned hatstand behind the door. In the kitchen a single spotlight burned, illuminating the worktop where a note lay.

Have gone to bed. Dinner's in the oven. Love Lisa.

That was all. No accusations or reproaches. It was typically Lisa and Ben sighed with relief. He was still dog-tired and his head ached; just at the moment he couldn't have coped with a scene.

Tossing a Bonio into Mouse's basket, he took two paracetamol with a glass of water, switched the light off and made his way to the bedroom. The door was closed and on the handle hung a ‘Please Do Not Disturb' sign, no doubt pilfered from some hotel, but Lisa had blacked out the word ‘Not.'

Ben paused. Normally such an invitation would be welcome, but just now . . .

Oh God! he thought. A headache: the oldest excuse in the book! But he knew from experience
that the painkillers would take ten to fifteen minutes to have any effect on a pounding ache such as this, if indeed they had any effect at all. Hoping that she was asleep and hadn't heard him come in, he retraced his steps and went instead to the lounge, leaving the light in the hall as the only illumination, and stretched out on the brown leather sofa with his eyes closed.

‘Cup of tea for you. Shall I put it on the coffee table?'

Ben opened his eyes to bright morning light and Lisa standing beside the sofa in a white towelling robe.

‘You look like an angel,' he mumbled, squinting up at her.

‘You say the nicest things.' Her tone was placid, accepting his comment for the observation it was, rather than the compliment it might have been. ‘I heard you come in. Why did you sleep out here?'

Ben sat up, groaning as his back protested. At some point Lisa had draped a blanket over him but he was still fully clothed.

‘I had a really bad headache. I was going to come to bed when the tablets kicked in but I guess I fell asleep.' The truth sounded unconvincing, even to him. ‘I'm sorry I was so late last night.'

Lisa sat on the sofa next to him, curling her feet up under her and cradling her own cup of tea.

‘I expect you didn't get my text – I should have rung.'

Ben reached for his tea, tempted – but too honest – to take the easy way out she'd offered him.

‘Actually, I did get your message, but I completely forgot. Last night – that is, the night before – I stayed over with the Csikós. You remember I told you about them? Yeah, well I was up practically all night because someone let some of the horses out. It was our friends, the animal rights group.' He took a sip of tea and gave her a brief description of the night's events. ‘Then I spent the day at Castle Ridge researching an article on the Cheltenham Gold Cup. So, you see, I was completely knackered by yesterday evening and I actually fell asleep at Mikey's cottage. Nodded off at the dinner table, which was a bit embarrassing. I'm really sorry.' He scanned her face for disbelief and found none. She looked merely resigned.

‘Well, what are you doing today?'

‘I'm going racing this afternoon – Mikey's riding. You can come too, if you like?'

Lisa gave a little smile. ‘Thanks, but I have to work later, and anyway, I think I might feel a bit like an afterthought.'

‘Don't be daft. Come here.' Ben put an arm round her shoulders and pulled her close. ‘What about this morning then? I don't think Mikey's riding till half-two. How about coffee and a big sticky cake somewhere?' He'd have to turn down Truman's offer of a lift to the course, but that didn't really matter.

‘I'm on a diet!' Lisa protested.

‘What on earth for?'

‘Because I'm feeling old, fat and frumpy.'

‘Ah. This wouldn't have anything to do with the looming, big three-oh, would it?'

‘It might,' she said, wriggling a little in his grasp. ‘But it's very ungallant of you to bring that up.'

‘You forget, I've been there,' he told her. ‘And if you think about it, in a few years' time you'll give anything to be thirty again, so just go with it. After all, it's only a number.'

‘I know; but it's such a big number!' she said wistfully. ‘OK. Coffee and cakes would be lovely, thanks. I'll start my diet tomorrow.'

Finishing the tea they went together to the bathroom and shared a luxurious shower that moved them both from contentment to passion, and presently, over breakfast, Ben found himself thinking that there must be a hell of a lot worse fates than waking up with a girl like Lisa for the rest of his life. Almost instantly, habitual caution caught up with his train of thought and he began to recoil. Why change anything when it was working so well?

Catching his eye, Lisa smiled and he winked at her, glad she couldn't read his mind.

She didn't need to.

‘What are you thinking?' she asked.

Cornered by her question and his own honesty, Ben paused, but before his hesitation became noticeable he was rescued by the ringing of his telephone.

‘Ben. When are you coming over? I'm planning to leave at twelve.' Truman, cutting to the chase as usual.

‘Er, listen Eddie, I think I might make my own
way there. I've got one or two things I need to sort out this morning.'

‘Can't they wait?' Truman demanded. ‘What sort of things?'

‘Private things,' Ben said without heat. ‘My own business.'

‘Well, it's a bloody nuisance. There's been a development, but I can't tell you over the phone.'

Ben hesitated. ‘Look, I'm sorry,' he began, and then caught sight of Lisa shaking her head and mouthing, ‘You go.'

‘Hold on a minute,' he said into the receiver, then, covering the mouthpiece with his hand, ‘What about our coffee?'

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head again. ‘Doesn't matter, I've got stuff I should do, anyway.'

‘You sure?'

She nodded, and he moved his hand. ‘OK. I'll be with you around half-eleven.'

‘Make it eleven. Ford's here,' Truman said, and put the phone down.

‘I'm sorry,' Ben said, looking apologetically at Lisa. ‘Technically, the guy's my boss at the moment, but it won't be for long; it's kind of a special case. Anyway, I'll make it up to you with double coffee and cakes next time.'

‘Great! Then I really will get fat!' Lisa finished her toast and licked marmalade off her fingers. ‘You've always said you'd never work for anyone again.'

‘Like I said, it's a special case. I can't really tell you at the moment, but I will one day.'

‘Ooh, a secret assignment!' she said dramatically.
‘OK, I can wait. Oh, by the way, one of your editors – Taylor, would it be? – rang yesterday evening. Wanted you to get back to him, so I said I'd pass the message on. You seem to be in demand.'