“What are you all doing out here?” a woman’s voice shouts suddenly, and a moment later a worried, harried-looking lady emerges from the house and glares at us. “Donald, get them inside,” she adds, before looking past us as if she’s seen something that upsets her.
I turn and follow her gaze, but all I see is the dirt road and the forest.
“Hurry!” she continues as I turn back to her. “It’s getting dark!”
“You’ll have to forgive my wife,” Donald says with a sigh. “She’s easily spooked at the moment, although I guess she has a point. Why don’t you come in and we’ll see about making you comfortable.”
“You’re very kind,” I reply as I follow him and Dean into the farmhouse, although I can’t help glancing back once again toward the forest, and wondering why the lady seems so troubled.
“This is our daughter Jessie,” Donald says as I reach the kitchen, where a gangly young girl is sitting at the table with a pair of headphones on her ears and a mobile telephone in her hands. She barely even looks up at me as I enter. “And over there,” he adds, “is our son Adam and his friend Craig.”
Turning, I see two young men – teenagers, really – sitting on a sofa in the next room.
“This is a lovely place,” I say to Donald, as I notice that his wife is staring out the window as if she’s still afraid of something. “Might I ask what kind of farming you do?”
“Potatoes,” he replies, “as far as the eye can see. And some chickens.” He turns to Sharon. “Honey, can you get away from that window? You’re making us all tense.”
“Damn it!” Jessie hisses, and I turn to see the girl gripping her phone tightly. “Why can’t this thing just work? Is it really that hard for them to just leave the transmitters on?”
“Easy there,” Donald says, wandering over and putting a hand on her shoulder, only for her to swat the hand away. “The phones’ll be on again at some point, you just have to be patient.”
“I’ve been patient for days now!” she snaps, her voice shaking with anger. “We need to be able to communicate, Dad! We need to know what’s going on out there!”
“We’ll find out when we find out,” he tells her, before looking over at his wife again. “Sharon, can you talk some sense into this girl?”
As they continue to argue, I drift over toward the door that leads into the next room, and I find myself looking through at the two young boys on the sofa.
“Good evening,” I say.
“Who are you?” one of them asks.
“My name’s Derek and—”
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be rude, Adam,” the other boy says, nudging his companion. “You’ve got loads of room here.”
“We don’t have loads of food, though,” Adam says, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “Did you bring food, old man? Or are you just planning of freeloading?”
“I—”
“That’s enough,” Dean says, slipping past me and stepping into the room. “It’s good to see the pair of you. Your father has very kindly agreed to let Derek and I stay for a few days. If there’s still been no improvement by the weekend, I think we’re all going to have to re-think our approach.”
“I’m going to go and check that the barn’s locked,” Adam mutters, getting to his feet and heading out into the kitchen. As he goes, he glares at me. “We don’t all have time to stand around doing nothing and expecting other people to help out.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I’d be glad to go with him, but he’s already hurrying out through the front door, and it’s clear that the young man is decidedly angry.
“Ignore him,” Dean says, keeping his voice low. “That kid’s had a chip on his shoulder for as long as I’ve known him.”
“Food’ll be ready soon,” Donald says, coming over to join us. “We don’t have much, Mr. Harrisford, but we’re happy to share. To be honest, we’ve been cooped up in here for a few days now. It’ll be nice to have someone fresh to talk to over dinner.”
“Thank you so much,” I reply, although I can’t help noticing that his wife is still peering out the window, watching the darkening yard. “You’ve all been so very kind.”
“Come on, you stupid thing!” Jessie says, still desperately tapping at her phone. “Why won’t you work? It’s not rocket science! Just work!”
Twelve
“I knew it was trouble, right from the start,” Donald says later, as we sit at the dinner table. Candles are flickering between us, bringing just enough light for us to eat. “I had a hunch. I said to Sharon on the first day, that this is going to be trouble.”
He turns to his wife.
“Remember that, honey?”
We all wait, but she’s staring at the window.
“It’s okay,” he continues, nudging her arm. “Come on, stop worrying. I told you, the barn’s perfectly secure now.”
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
Sharon turns to me and opens her mouth to say something.
“My wife just worries about the chickens,” Donald says firmly, as if he’s keen to keep her from telling me what’s really on her mind. “We’ve had some trouble with foxes over the past few days.”
“Sure,” Adam murmurs nearby. “Foxes.”
“It’s foxes, alright,” Donald continues. “There’s no doubt about that.”
I feel as if I’m coming in at the tail-end of a disagreement that has been going on for some time, so I focus on setting some vegetables onto my plate. After a moment, however, there’s a sudden bumping sound and I turn to see that Sharon has jumped to her feet, sending her chair scraping across the floor in the process.
“What was that?” she gasps.
“It was nothing!” Donald says with a sigh, grabbing her arm. “Sit down, you’ll get everyone spooked.”
“Didn’t you hear?” she asks, before turning to each of us in turn. “I swear, there’s something out there!”
“It’s just the wind,” Donald tells her firmly. “We’ve talked about this before. That barn is fox-proof now, there’s no way anything’s getting in there.”
“Unless it’s not a fox,” Adam mutters.
Sharon sits back down, although I can tell from the look on her face that she’s still not convinced. The whole rooms seems tense. Jessie is still tapping at her phone, but everyone else is now sitting in silence and carefully avoiding eye contact. I want to say something to break the ice, although I can’t really think of anything. Usually, in situations like this I’d fetch my guitar and play a few songs, just to lighten the mood, but that’s not an option right now.
“Are you okay with the camp-bed in the back room, Mr. Harrisford?” Donald asks finally. It’s clear that he wants to move the conversation on. “It’s not much, but I’m afraid it’s all we can offer.”
“It’s very good, thank you,” I reply. “I should only—”
Before I can finish, there’s a loud bang from outside.
Donald, Sharon and the two boys immediately get to their feet and look toward the window, although all that can be seen is a reflection of our candlelit dinner. A moment later, however, Sharon blows out all the candles and rushes over to peer out at the yard, and Donald goes to join her.
“Don’t tell me that was a fox!” Sharon hisses. “That thing is back again!”
“What thing?” I ask, before turning to Dean and seeing that he seems to have no idea either.
“Sharon, Jessie, you both stay here,” Donald says firmly, before turning and heading toward the front door. “Adam, Craig, you’re with me.”
“We’ll come too,” Dean adds, and he and I go after the others as they head outside.