When the weather grew cold, the ticks would die. A new lot had to be brought in by a temporary host for the new year, and then, without much delay, transferred to their natural host, a horse. Peterman hadn’t survived it.
Whatever doubts she had at the beginning, they had gone by the end.
‘When we first found the containers,’ I said, ‘I begged Jogger not to talk about them. But he did, of course, down at the pub on the Saturday night. I reckon he’d been thinking a lot about them. Turning them over in his mind, I’d think he remembered the rabbit, which must have seemed to him at the time to appear from nowhere, and perhaps he’d worked out that it might have fallen out of one of those containers, the one under what is now Phil’s box, because that container had lost its screw-on end. I don’t know if anyone understood Jogger plainly in the pub. They might have done. Anyway, in the morning he left me the message... and he told me, Jogger told me... about rabbits and ticks and Benjy Usher’s horse that died.’
She was silent for a while and then asked, ‘Was it Lewis who wrecked your car and the house?’
‘I don’t know. I’m sure he was one of the people who dropped me into the water at Southampton. The one who said, “If that doesn’t give him flu, nothing will.” His voice was hoarse because he had a cold, and in my memory, that voice reverberated a bit, as I was half unconscious, but yes, I’m sure that was him. Whether he hates me enough for the rest... I don’t know.’
‘That’s awful.’
‘Mm.’
‘So what next?’
‘Tomorrow,’ I said, ‘Lewis is driving the super-six to Milan, in Italy, to fetch home one of Benjy Usher’s colts, that has a dicky leg. It’s a three-day trip, mostly through France.’
She grew still. Then she said, ‘I’ll go. Have parachute, will travel.’
‘I don’t want you to do anything,’ I explained. ‘I don’t want you to alarm him. I want him to have every opportunity to pick up another rabbitful of ticks, because if all of last weekend’s cargo were on Peterman and have died with him, and if no other horses are ill, then perhaps this is a chance for them to get some replacements. Those ticks are highly perishable, and also hard to find. I’d think they’d need some more. All I want you to do is to note where you go. The route Lewis will take to Italy is down to the Rhône Valley, which is where he went last weekend also. He should be going through the Mont Blanc tunnel from France to Italy but if he takes another route, don’t remark on it. If he wants to stop anywhere at all, let him stop. Don’t ask questions. Agree to whatever he suggests. Notice nothing. Don’t watch him. Yawn, sleep, act dumb.’
‘He won’t want me with him, you know.’
‘I know he thinks you tire easily. So tire. This time, he may be glad of it.’
‘And don’t, I suppose, look under the box?’
‘No, don’t. If the place is littered with lettuce leaves and rabbit droppings, ignore it.’
She smiled.
‘Be careful,’ I begged. ‘I’d go myself, except that if I did, nothing would happen. All I want to know is where Lewis goes.’
‘All right.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘Nor did my mother.’
‘Lewis might be just as dangerous.’
‘I promise,’ she said emphatically, ‘that I’ll be as blind as a bat.’ She paused. ‘There’s only one thing.’
‘What?’
‘I want to tell Patrick Venables where I’m going.’
‘Would he stop you?’
‘Probably the opposite.’
‘Don’t let him do anything,’ I said anxiously. ‘Don’t let him frighten them off.’ My instinct was against the Jockey Club knowing too much, too soon, but perhaps also for this possibly risky mission I might need the insurance of Venables’ foreknowledge.
‘I don’t want to be prosecuted,’ she said, half playfully, ‘for trying to nobble half of Pixhill’s best colts.’
‘You won’t be. I—’ I stopped dead, a revelation presenting itself to me with breath-thieving force. ‘Bloody hell!’
‘What is it?’
‘Um. Nothing. When you get back on Wednesday you’ll be met. Don’t worry about anything except not frightening Lewis.’
We ate dinner in the dining-room, discussing the trip to begin with but passing pretty soon to our lives in general. I enjoyed being with her. I was growing unfaithful to Maudie, I thought ironically. I asked Nina how old her eldest child was.
‘Twenty-four.’ She smiled down at her pasta. ‘Much younger than you.’
‘Am I that transparent?’
‘You’re no toy-boy,’ she said.
‘Your children might think so.’
‘Your sister is older than her professor, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is,’ I said, mildly surprised. ‘Who told you?’
‘Aziz told me.’
‘Aziz?’
‘Your sister told him. He told me. We drivers hang together, you know.’
‘Wipe that demure smile off your face.’
The smile, however, deepened. I thought of all the empty bedrooms upstairs in the hotel. I thought of the year-long celibacy and felt a strong desire to end it. She must have known what was in my mind. She simply waited.
I sighed. ‘It’s not what I’d prefer,’ I said, ‘but I’m going home.’
She said passively, ‘All right.’
I rubbed my eyes. ‘When this is over...’
‘Yes. We’ll see.’
We went out together, as before, to our separate cars. She had come in her Mercedes.
I kissed her mouth, not her cheek. She drew her head away, her eyes gleaming in the car park lights. I saw that I didn’t displease her. I could so easily... so easily...
‘Freddie...’ Her voice was soft, non-committal, leaving it to me.
‘I have to... I really do have to go,’ I said almost desperately. ‘I’m not sending you off to France without sensible preparations. Bring your overnight things in the morning and pick up a travel kit from the office. It will hold money and phone numbers and a precaution or two against thieves. Lewis always takes a similar kit.’ I stopped. Travel kits were not what I wanted to talk about. I kissed her again and felt resolution draining away.
‘Do the kit in the morning,’ she suggested.
‘Oh, God.’
‘Freddie...’
‘I’ll tell you tomorrow why I have to go.’
I kissed her hard, then turned away and went over to the Fourtrak, feeling clumsy and annoyed with myself for going so far and inexplicably retreating. She didn’t seem to mind. There were no hurt rejected feelings in the smile she gave me as she shut herself into the red car.
‘See you,’ she said through the opening window, starting the engine.
‘Goodnight.’
With a wave she drove away, as self-possessed as ever. I watched her tail lights into the distance and strove to quieten my pulse. The basic drives of nature were so bloody powerful after all. And I’d thought I had the turmoil licked, which only showed that dormant volcanoes were simply that; fires temporarily asleep.
Eight and a half years. Did they matter? I didn’t know, and I understood that she didn’t know either. She was attracted to me; I had to believe it. She was also, I thought, in an odd way shy, not wanting me to think she had rushed me. She was making me decide whether what I felt was a passing arousal or a longer commitment.
I belted the Fourtrak back to my house, pushing decisions away for the night, and changed into soft black shoes and the darkest of clothes I could find. Then, with my eyes adjusting to night vision, I walked in the shadows along to the farmyard and unlocked the padlock on the gates to let myself in, locking it again behind me.