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Authors: Kate Thompson

BOOK: Wild Blood
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‘I could, I suppose,’ said Kevin.

‘If you had the right backing, that is. The right kind of manager.’

Tess turned away to hide the expression of disgust on her face. So that was what he was up to.

‘I’m not sure,’ Kevin began, but Uncle Maurice had launched his campaign and could no longer stem his excitement.

‘No, c’mere, listen,’ he said. ‘I could get the world of business for you, the world of it. There are loads of farmers and houses in towns and all, and they have the same problem. Sure, a cure for rats is worth a fortune. A fortune!’

Tess looked around the room. Kevin was dumbstruck and she could only imagine what was going through his mind. From the expression on Aunt Deirdre’s face it was clear that she hadn’t been let in on the plan and was as surprised as everyone else. Once more Kevin opened his mouth to say something, but Uncle Maurice was still not finished.

‘Think of it, lad,’ he said. ‘If you can do a farm and buildings this size, what’s to stop you doing a whole village or even a small town? Can you imagine it? We could get TV people there and radio. We could set up interviews and all …’

Kevin stood up, his tea untouched.

‘Thanks for your concern,’ he said. ‘It’s a great idea but I’m afraid I have no interest in it.’

Uncle Maurice shut his mouth and the brightness left his features with frightening speed. Anxiety, almost visible, crept over the other members of his family.

‘So if you’ll just pay me what we agreed,’ Kevin went on, ‘I won’t take up any more of your time.’

There was a sinister pause, then Uncle Maurice said, ‘What was it we agreed, exactly?’

‘One hundred pounds,’ said Kevin.

‘One hundred pounds,’ Uncle Maurice repeated. ‘If you got rid of all the rats.’

‘That’s right,’ said Kevin.

There was menace in Uncle Maurice’s voice as he replied. ‘But you didn’t, did you?’

Silence dropped again. The faces of the children showed shocked disappointment, but Kevin was not going to be fobbed off without a fight. ‘What makes you say that?’ he asked.

‘Just this,’ said Uncle Maurice. He stood up and went over to a plastic bag which lay inside the back door. ‘Something the dogs caught this morning.’ He reached into the bag and pulled out the carcass of a rat. A jolt of pain caught Tess off guard.

‘That …’ she began, but stopped herself while she still could. What she had started to say was that she recognised the carcass. It was the old rat, the one who had been left behind.

The others were still looking at her expectantly, even Kevin.

‘That’s what?’ said Uncle Maurice.

In the nick of time it came to her. ‘That’s been dead for a couple of days,’ she said. ‘I saw it round behind the milking parlour yesterday.’

Kevin shut his eyes in relief and took a deep breath.

‘Oh, is that right?’ said Uncle Maurice. ‘Well, you’d know, I suppose.’

Tess said nothing and the only sound was the high-pitched drone of Orla’s constricted breath. Uncle Maurice followed up his advantage.

‘I mean,’ he said, ‘you’d know the difference, wouldn’t you, Miss Cleverclogs, between this dead rat and any other dead rat.’

He looked around triumphantly, as though expecting applause. But he hadn’t won, yet.

‘I think I would,’ said Tess. ‘I think that rat has only one top tooth at the front.’

Uncle Maurice’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. But Brian was already at his side and staring into the slack mouth of the dead rat. Rapidly, Uncle Maurice dropped it back into the plastic bag, but he wasn’t quick enough.

‘Yep,’ said Brian. ‘She’s right. Only one front tooth. How did you know that, Tess?’

Colm had understood little of the preceding conversation, but no nuance of mood or atmosphere ever escaped him. He knew now that his hero had been vindicated and he was delighted. An affectionate soul at the best of times, he flung his arms around Kevin’s neck and hugged him tight.

But it was not a wise move, given the circumstances, and not only because of the embarrassment it caused Kevin. Uncle Maurice was a tyrant, without doubt, but he loved his children with a fierce passion. To see Colm’s affection so freely given to his adversary was more than he could stand.

‘Get out,’ he said, his voice low, his face dangerously dark.

Kevin gently disengaged himself from Colm’s embrace. As she watched, Tess saw the best of Kevin’s rat nature emerge; his courage and, above all, his sense of justice.

‘I’ll leave when I’ve been paid,’ he said.

‘You’ll leave right now,’ said Uncle Maurice. ‘Right this minute. And if I see you around here again I’ll call the police.’

‘The police? On what charge?’

‘Loitering. Harassment. Whatever I like. Do you think they’ll believe you for one minute? That you played on a tin whistle and the rats followed you out of my yard? They’ll lock you up, more like it.’

Kevin stared at him in silent anger and Tess saw that he was defeated. Everyone knew that he was right, but that against Uncle Maurice’s word he hadn’t a leg to stand on. For a long moment, time seemed frozen in the room. Then Kevin strode to the door and was gone.

‘Good riddance,’ said Uncle Maurice, throwing the dead rat in its plastic bag out after him. But everyone knew that the matter was not closed, and the silence which still hung in the room was full of gloom and foreboding.

CHAPTER TEN

I
F TESS THOUGHT THAT
the bottom had fallen out of her world, she was wrong. The worst was still to come. The dust had barely settled behind Kevin’s bicycle on the drive when a Mercedes car pulled up and two men in expensive suits got out.

Uncle Maurice threw the door open wide and went out to meet them, then preceded them into the kitchen where Aunt Deirdre, yet again, put on the kettle.

‘Deirdre, this is Mr Keating from Keating Development.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Mr Keating. ‘But don’t make any tea for us.’ He gestured to the other man and turned back to Uncle Maurice as he spoke.

‘This is Peter Mahon, the surveyor I was telling you about. We’ve come to walk the boundaries of that land, if it suits you.’

Tess had no interest in what was happening and was about to slip out when the reaction of her cousins changed her mind.

‘Can we come, Daddy?’ said Orla.

‘Please?’ said Brian.

‘Sure, we’re only walking around the land,’ said Uncle Maurice.

‘But we love the crag,’ said Orla. ‘We won’t get in your way. Honestly.’

‘The crag?’ said Tess.

But no one heard her. Uncle Maurice had given his permission, and the children were cheering and racing off to get their boots. Tess followed them into the hall.

‘Did you say the crag?’ she asked.

Orla nodded.

‘You mean the land up there?’ Tess pointed in the direction of the mountain, though all that could be seen was the wall of the kitchen.

‘Yes,’ said Brian. ‘We’re going to play around up there while they walk the boundaries.’

‘But,’ said Tess. ‘Wait a minute. You mean that’s the land that your dad was talking about?’

Orla nodded, a little sadly. ‘Want to come?’ she asked.

Tess didn’t answer the question. She was still finding it difficult to believe what she was hearing. ‘You’re telling me your dad owns that wild land up there under the mountain. And he’s selling it?’

Brian nodded. ‘There’s no point in trying to make him change his mind,’ he said. ‘He hates the place. He’s been trying to sell it since he inherited the farm. He says he’ll take us all on holiday with the money.’

Tess thought back to her experiences of the place. Despite her fear of it, the thought of those wild and beautiful woods being bulldozed and turned into a holiday village filled her with horror.

‘But all the wild creatures who live there …’ she began, then stopped, remembering the rats and the promises that Kevin had made to them about their new home. Her cousins were staring at her, waiting for her to finish. When she said no more, Brian said, ‘Come with us, Tess. Please.’

Tess climbed into the back of the pick-up with the others, and they set out along the much longer road route to the crag. Behind them the developer and the surveyor followed in their smart, black car. From the mood of her cousins, Tess couldn’t be sure whether it was a tragic occasion or a joyful one. It seemed to be both; their excitement at going to the crag counterbalancing their sorrow at having to part with it. Orla was still wheezing slightly but her cheeks, for a change, had a bit of colour. Little Colm spent the whole journey jumping around. Occasionally his red wellies missed their aim on the metal floor and landed on someone’s toe, but no amount of complaining could persuade him to sit down.

Tess craned her neck and looked out through the front windscreen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kevin, but there was no sign of him. She tried to imagine how he must be feeling; how full of anger and bitterness, and she wished that she had decided to go and look for him instead of coming on this family outing. Apart from the irritation of her cousins’ manic mood, she was wasting precious Switching time. Like a dark cloak her worries began to close in again and she concentrated on the road ahead.

They were just turning down the stony track that led from the back road to the land around the crag. Behind them the developer followed a bit more slowly, mindful of his suspension. On either side of the track tall hedges of hazel grew up, obscuring the view of the surrounding wilderness and creating a closed-in, tunnel-like effect. The bumpy ride meant that Colm’s balance went haywire, but he still couldn’t be persuaded to sit still and he ended up pitching wildly from one lap to the next. By the time they finally came to a halt, Tess was suffering from a combination of cabin fever, claustrophobia and bruising. She couldn’t wait to get out.

But after the noisy ride, the atmosphere of the crag was uncannily silent. It was a silence that seemed to demand respect, and there was no one in the party who was not sensitive enough to become quiet in response. It was almost as though someone or something was present in their midst, and it made Tess uncomfortable. She looked around at the other members of the party. Her cousins looked thrilled, their eyes bright with excitement. The businessmen looked bewildered, as though they had expected something entirely different. But it was Uncle Maurice’s reaction that made a shiver run down Tess’s spine. He was standing beside the pick-up, still holding on to the handle of the door as though he wanted to be ready to get back into it in a hurry. The apprehension on his face was almost painful until he noticed Tess looking at him and, with a visible effort, he disguised it.

What was he doing? Did he know about the strange things in the woods as well? If he did, how could he allow his children to come there, and how could he sell the place?

‘Right so,’ he said, briskly. ‘Where do you want to start?’

While the surveyor sorted out his maps and got his bearings, Orla led her brothers off across the rocks.

‘Not too far, now, you hear?’ said their father.

‘OK,’ said Orla. ‘Come on, Tess.’

Reluctantly, Tess followed.

The place where the track ended and the cars were parked was to the far left of the crag. The mountain rose away less steeply there and the woods were just beginning like the point of a triangle. Orla led the way across the rocks, keeping the crag and the deepening woods to her left. Tess was relieved about that. Although her cousins clearly knew the place better than she did, she couldn’t help feeling responsible for them since she was the eldest.

They hadn’t gone far when Tess spotted the raven. It was circling above the adults, as though it was checking out what they were doing there, and as she watched, it changed tack and drifted above her, turning its head to look down with its sharp black eye. She looked away only to find, to her amazement, that all three of her cousins were waving cheerfully at the menacing bird.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked. ‘Are you mad?’

But Brian winked, and Orla put her finger to her lips and said, ‘Shh.’

To their right, Uncle Maurice and the businessmen were following the boundary wall, which led them away from the children at a wide angle. Still Orla continued along the bare rocks beside the woods. By the time she came to a stop, her father and his companions were three hundred yards away across open country.

Orla changed direction and walked towards the woods. Tess and the others followed. At the ragged tree-line they stopped and looked into the green shadows. Tess felt the familiar ambivalence; the magical attraction overshadowed by fear. Bird wings fluttered loudly among the branches. Orla turned to her and smiled delightedly. If she felt even the slightest anxiety she did not show it, and nor did her brothers. Once again, Tess found herself wondering if her experiences of the place owed more to an overactive imagination than to reality.

Colm led the way in among the trees and Orla and Brian followed. Tess was about to take her first step when she saw, or thought she saw, a vague figure standing in the shadows.

‘Wait!’ she hissed. The others stopped. She could just make out, far away within the dappled green interior, a figure just that bit too tall to be human. His face was turned towards the newcomers, but he seemed to be made not of flesh but of shadow and light. Tess strained her eyes, trying to get a better view. Was it a trick of the leaf-filtered sunlight, or was there a pair of antlers growing from the figure’s head? As she watched he lifted a translucent hand and beckoned.

A cry pressed at Tess’s throat but she held it back.

‘There! Do you see?’ she said to the others. But to her horror they were already moving, running with surprising agility over the mossy rocks and among the trees, straight towards the terrifying figure.

‘Stop!’ she shouted. ‘Wait! Don’t you see him?’

Briefly, Orla halted and turned back. ‘Of course we do!’ she called. ‘Come on!’

Above their heads a brilliant light suddenly shone out from the level of the deer-man’s eyes, blinding Tess so that she lost her bearings and had to hold on to a tree. The sensation was so disorientating that she wondered whether it was really happening or whether she was suffering from some sort of seizure; a migraine perhaps, or an epileptic fit. By the time her vision cleared, all she could see were branches and occasional flashes of bright, dazzling sunlight between them. There was no figure among the trees. There were no children, either. The woods appeared to be empty.

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