“Copy that. We’re in position, ready to go,” he said. Zach kept walking until he was sure the darkness had swallowed him, then he ducked left towards the hedge, vaulted over the gate into the field, and started running.
He didn’t look back as he ran haphazardly down the hill, stumbling over rabbit holes and slipping in patches of sheep shit. It was frightening, electrifying; running so fast when he could not see the ground, could not see his feet. Thistles and long grasses whipped at his shins, and he saw pale shapes in the corners of his eye as startled sheep hurried away from him. The lane was to his left, and at any moment he expected to see blue lights pouring down it, passing him, getting to her first. He ran faster than he’d run since childhood; his lungs ached with the sudden rush of cold air. The night parted in front of him and closed behind him; he left no wake. There were two more gates between him and the yard, and he scaled them clumsily, landing badly after the last and turning his ankle. Swearing at the tearing pain, he staggered around to the front of the farmhouse where a light was on in the kitchen, blazing out into the night through the curtainless window. It seemed wantonly dangerous, such a gaudy display. His mouth had gone completely dry and his heart was hammering, and he thumped loudly on the farmhouse door with both fists.
Hannah opened it cautiously, her eyes wide with anxiety. When she saw him, relief flooded her face and Zach felt a rush of panic wash through him.
“Zach! What the hell are you doing here?” she said, holding the door ajar, not letting him in or letting him see past her.
“The police are coming-they could be here any moment. I saw them,” he gasped, fighting for breath. “I saw them at the top of the lane. I wanted to warn you, to give you a chance to…” He trailed off, watching fear grip her as she digested this. Behind her he heard Ilir say something.
“The police? Here? Jesus… how did they know?” she said.
“I don’t know. You don’t have much time, so if there’s something you’d rather they didn’t find, you’d better get it out of sight now. Right now!” Hannah hesitated, then turned her head and spoke rapidly, quietly over her shoulder. There was a startled sound from Ilir and then sounds of movement, scuffling.
“God,” Hannah said bleakly. “Maybe Ed Lynch did say something to them. James said he thought he was being watched. And the last time I spoke to him on the phone there was a lot of interference… Fuck! I’m such an idiot!”
“I’m… sorry, Hannah.” Now that he had warned her, he didn’t know what else to do. At that moment, Ilir appeared beside her in the doorway.
“You are sorry? You tell the police to come?” he said, yanking the door wide open and striding out, right up to Zach, with anger disfiguring his face. Zach took an uneasy step backwards.
“What? No! I just-”
“You are spying on us tonight?” Ilir jabbed a rigid finger into Zach’s chest.
“Yes-well, no, not spying-I was on the cliffs, and I saw… the boat. And then I saw the police-” Ilir grasped Zach by the front of his coat, spun him around, and shoved him hard against the wall of the house. His mouth twisted into a snarl, eyes alight with anger and something else besides. Something like fear, holding every one of the man’s muscles tighter than steel.
“It is your fault they come!” he spat.
“No, I just wanted to warn you!” said Zach.
“You will be sorry.” Ilir drew back his right arm and slammed his fist into Zach’s jaw. Pain and bright light bloomed behind Zach’s eyes, and his head was flung back, hitting the wall hard.
“Ilir! No! Stop it!” Hannah was there behind Ilir, the wind whipping her hair into her eyes as she tugged at his arm, holding it on its second backswing, preventing the blow from landing. “Ilir! We don’t have time! Stop it! It wasn’t Zach’s fault! Go inside-go inside and get ready!” Abruptly, Ilir dropped Zach, seeming to lose all interest in him. And now Zach could really see how frightened he was. The anger dissolved, and this fear was all that was left. He clasped his hands over his head and his eyes filled with tears.
“What will we do, Hannah?” he said desperately. “What can I do?”
“I’ll think of something! Go inside, now,” she said, and once he had stumbled away towards the door, she turned to Zach, who was rubbing his jaw and waiting for his head to clear. “You came down to warn us, right?” she said. Zach nodded gingerly. “So you want to be on our side, right? Right?”
“I… yes. I am on your side.”
“Then help us.” She stood in front of him with her arms hanging ready at her sides and the wind pushing at her; dark eyes harder than granite and every inch of her now calm and resolute. Zach realized that he would do anything for her.
“What do you want me to do?” he said.
“You saw me guide the boat in. You saw us bringing something ashore. Now I need you to take it somewhere else for me. If the police are coming, they can’t find out what was on that boat. Do you hear?” Zach swallowed. She was making him part of it, he saw. Making him complicit; partly to have his help, no doubt, but also to have his silence from then on. He nodded uneasily.
“Okay. But look, if it’s drugs…” He shook his head. A disgusted expression creased Hannah’s face.
“Drugs? You seriously think it’s drugs?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
“You think I would risk everything to deal drugs? For fuck’s sake, Zach! You want to know what I would risk everything for? Do you? Then come and take a look.” She grabbed him by the sleeve, towed him to the farmhouse door, up the steps, and into the kitchen. She gave him a second to absorb the scene, and the sudden light hurt his eyes. “Now do you get it?” she said. Zach stared in amazement.
“Jesus,” he murmured.
Dimity slept more deeply than she ever had before, for the rest of the day after Celeste had turned her away again. A dreamless sleep, like oblivion. She awoke just before sunset with a vague, heavy feeling of unease. She could not sit still, or settle to any household chore, so the stove sputtered out after she lit it, and the water in the kettle stayed cold, and the chickens kept their eggs a while longer, tucked into their warm and greasy feathers. She stole a glance through her mother’s bedroom door. Valentina was sprawled across the mattress, her yellow hair matted and wiry, her face scrunched into the pillow. She was snoring softly, dead to the world; thinking back, Dimity remembered the bang of the door, sometime after she returned. A visitor leaving; ducking out into anonymity. A faint, fishy smell pervaded the airless room. She shut the door again softly, and wondered at the sudden urge she felt to creep into bed beside her mother, to feel the warmth of her fusty, sleeping body. A yearning for safety and protection that she’d long ago learned not to seek from Valentina.
Then, for just a minute or two, all her dreams came true. The sun was below the horizon; a velvety twilight lingered that made the sea seem to glow. She was looking out of her bedroom window as the blue car came down the track towards The Watch, traveling fast, kicking up dust and stones from its wheels. It slithered to a halt right outside, and Charles got out. Charles on his own, running his hands through his hair to tidy it, or so she thought; coming up to the door and pounding on it, urgently, carelessly. He had come to fetch her away, she thought, as she made her way downstairs, smiling dreamily. Fear had plagued her since she woke, though she couldn’t trace the cause of it; all she knew was that she never wanted to go to Littlecombe again. But now he had come for her at last, and that fear melted away. She looked around the house as she went to the door, thinking that she might not see it again. That this would be the last time she would come down those stairs, cross those worn flagstones, pull the handle of the heavy oak door. Her smile widened when she saw him, and she let the love shine on her face; no more hiding, no more waiting.