The Hunter

  Guns and knives, hounds and horn,

  across the moor they dash

  to spring their killing trap

  on another beating breast.

  how different it would be

  if the contest were with a human mind.

  ~ ~ ~

  Henri and William looked out across the moor.

  ‘So William, will you still want to do this?’ asked Henri when they got back to the clubhouse.

  ‘Oh....I think so. Marie would be disappointed if I backed out. And she did say that most applicants were successful.’

  ‘Ah...the spells of our Marie have captured you...non?’ Henri chuckled. ‘You look fit – and you’re in good shape. I know you’ll manage.’ they shook hands. ‘Until tomorrow then William...If you’re here for one-thirty that’ll be just right. À bientôt.’

  After he’d gone, I stayed on to plan my own route for tomorrow’s race. ‘Surely that’s all it boiled down to. Wasn’t it?’ I asked myself ‘Just a race.....I’ll not turn right at the ravine though, I’ll go left – they’ll go their usual way and, while they’re out of sight in the gulley, I’ll sprint across the higher ground to the finish – all uphill but probably only half the distance, maybe less.

  But, why am I doing all this. I don’t really want to kill anything...not anymore...just need to be with Marie, to please her. But I guess, when the time comes, I don’t actually have to shoot. Nobody can make me do it.....make me kill anything.

  I wonder what’ll happen here if she decides to go back to being a chef and open her own place? I wondered.

  ~ ~ ~

  I’d prepared us a light lunch of pasta in a simple cheese sauce with a fresh baguette and Rachel arrived bang on time.

  ‘Hi there....my favourite daughter.’ I called from the garden, as she climbed out of her bright red Peugeot.

  ‘Hi Dad.’ she called. ‘How many daughters have you got then?’ she asked as she dropped her overnight bag and threw her arms around me.

  ‘Just my favourite one.’

  ‘That’s good....I’m starving and I’ve a dusty dry throat.’

  ‘How does a glass, or two, of ice-cold bubbly sound?’ I offered, popping the cork and rattling two tall glasses.

  ‘Sounds like I just heard the best news possible. I’ll be back in two ticks. Just put my bag in my room and pop into the loo.’

  And she was back, almost that quick. We sat in the garden for lunch, catching up on some family news and finishing the bottle of champagne.

  ‘Sounds like a bit of a weird do, this club initiation affair. Where is this place and when do you perform?’

  ‘Well, we’re out for dinner tonight and we’ll go past it on the way. I’ll point it out. I’ve to be there at half-past one and I imagine it’ll all be over in an hour or so.’

  I spent quite a while telling her all about Marie, her lovely home, her bubbly personality and very briefly, of her demon son.

  ‘Oh, I shan’t worry about him too much.’ she chuckled. ‘I won my Karate Black-Belt last month!’

  ‘There....And you call me a dark, quiet one. I thought you looked fit.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s where I met Michel. He’s the club instructor. Smashing chap....I’m sure you’ll like him. I’ve told him all about you.’

  ‘Well you’d better even things up and tell me all about this young man.’

  And that took some little while, with a few photos on her phone from this morning and a small album on her iPod showing some scary looking action shots from a recent tournament competition in Portsmouth’s Mountbatten Centre.

  The more I heard, the more I liked who my little girl had become. Her studies were going well, she was in the top ten nationally and had begun specialising in European Community Law. Sounded like a steep hill to climb to me, but her language skills would help and the potential rewards would be huge.

  ~ ~ ~

  We took a walk around the garden and along the lane outside for a little way. I made a pot of coffee when we got back and we took it out to the garden seat.

  ‘Well Dad, I really cannot understand why Mum doesn’t want to make the change to living here. I know she’s got her circle, but they’re all false friends...surely she can see that.’ Rachel sighed. ‘But I guess she sees herself as something of a queen of the hive? I’m sure she’ll regret it.’

  ‘I’m not so sure....There’s no regrets on my part, now I’ve got used to it, and I think her mind was set on this course a long time ago. She just didn’t know how to start the ball rolling.’

  ‘Mum sent me an email. Wanted to know if there were any complications because you were over here. I told her there was. Law here favours the male half of any relationship during a separation – despite what they say. She won’t have any claims on this place for example. No matter how much her miserable little solicitor whines.’

  ‘Bet she didn’t like that.’

  ‘Don’t know...She didn’t answer. But I’m not going to let her force me into taking sides.’

  No. You mustn’t do that. She can be very waspish if she doesn’t get her own way and the only sure outcome would be that you’ll be the one that’s hurt.’

  ‘Hmm...Don’t you do anything yet – there’s no rush. And Michel knows someone who’ll help...he’ll get him to contact you.’ she leaned back and stretched. ‘Well if we’re out for eats tonight. I think I should go get cleaned up a bit. What sort of time are you thinking to be off?’

  ‘Well, we can go when we’re ready I suppose. But about sevenish would be nice. We can go by the Club and Marie’s house on the way.’ I collected up the dishes. ‘You know where the bathroom is. I think everything you’ll need is there, if not just shout.’

  ~ ~ ~

  ‘And over there is the Club house. Just on the crest of the hill behind it, is the old oak tree that I told you about.’ I slowed the car to point out the landmarks.

  ‘Crumbs, it seems a long way to have to make a dash for it.’

  ‘Oh, it won’t be too bad. The normal route is to the right, down to the valley bottom then up to the tree. I’m going to go the opposite way and across the high ground.’

  ‘All uphill eh?’ Rachel grinned. ‘But looks like a much shorter route.’

  ‘Mmm. I’ll be ok, so long as everyone else goes their usual way.’

  ‘Where’re we going?’

  ‘A favourite restaurant in Pontivy. It’s right opposite the ancient Chateau de Rohan....Only been open a few weeks.’

  Rachel settled back in her seat as we drove along the wandering lanes towards the town.

  ‘That imposing pile of stone and slate is where Marie lives.’ I said slowing again and pointing to the house behind the trees.

  A couple of flashy sports cars were parked on the driveway and most of the windows glowed with light. I hoped that there was no mischief, or worse, going on in there.

  ‘Wow...It’s a Chateau. Crumbs Dad, but you don’t half pick ‘em.’ she giggled. ‘When do I get to meet your French Lady then.’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon probably. She’s in Paris today, but hoping to get back tonight.’ I watched in my mirror as one of the sports cars, a bright yellow Lotus Evora, left the gateway and sped past us.

  ‘What a prize idiot.’ exclaimed Rachel, ‘Right before a blind bend too. Bloody fool.’ she shook her head and tutted. ‘Isn’t that one of the cars that was parked-up in front of Marie’s castle?’

  ‘Yeah...Don’t know who it was though. Seems to be desperate to meet his maker.’

  ‘Yeah....That’s fine, so long as he doesn’t take anyone with him.’

  ‘Generally, drivers over here are Jekyll and Hyde, out of the driver’s seat they are almost falling over, they’re so laid back. And they have tail-gating to a fine art.’

  ‘Hmm...Well I’m not impressed.’

  ‘No...but it’s just one of those things. Doesn’t matter what the authorities do, nothing seems to change.’

  I told her the story about a young Englishman who w
ent to take his test over here. He got all the way around the circuit without any problems or mistakes, pulled up back at the test centre and the examiner told him “You have done the course perfectly. No errors....But you drive like my Granny! In France we drive with vroom, with vivacité. You are failed...Try again next month.”

  ‘I guess then they get what they deserve.’ observed Rachel.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dinner was as good as I’d come to expect. When we arrived, the usual table was set for two and there was a low hum of conversation from the few other diners. The waiter came with the menus. He glanced at Rachel and gave me an enquiring look that almost seemed hostile.

  ‘Marie is well?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Oh, but yes. She is very well Marcel....thank you.’ I must have looked surprised, because he looked pointedly at Rachel. ‘Ah...I beg your pardon. Marcel, may I introduce my daughter....Rachel this is Marcel....the maitre d’hôte for one of the best restaurants in Brittany.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you ma’am.’ said Marcel with a polite bow and a relieved smile lighting his face. ‘You are welcome here anytime.’

  Rachel replied in courteous, rapid-fire french which stretched Marcel’s smile even wider.

  ‘I will bring you some wine if I may, it will be on-the-house, as you say in English, to celebrate our visitor.’ and with an air of pleased importance he made his way to the wine cabinet.

  ‘You’ve made a good friend there.’ I told her.

  ‘You did ok with your french too. I’m really pleased to be here with my Dad the famous poet.’

  Chapter 12

  Marie had managed to make the mid-evening train home from Paris. It had been a rush, but she'd made it with minutes to spare. The long trip up to the city this morning had given her time to think about things; her situation at home, the relationship that was fast developing with her William, the idea of returning to cooking and the devil that her son seemed to be turning into.

  She gazed out of the darkened window of the speeding train, her reflection stationary, floating above the lights of towns and hamlets as they rushed past.

  The Stag stood, still as tombstone,

  dark eyes wild, wide in fear.

  Nostrils flare to catch a hint,

  ears strain to pierce a silence.

  But he knows they'll not retire

  They'll not go without their bloody kill.

  ~ ~ ~

  The train’s clean, warm smell and the soft rhythmic clatter of the heavy iron wheels wrapped itself around Marie and her earlier thoughts returned.

  The fine house that I live in is ok....But it isn't me, it isn't mine. And I don't really enjoy the social position that goes with it. It's false and again, it’s not me. A sham, and not a comfortable one, although I've learned to cope with it well enough. It's not who I want to be and it’s not how I want people to see me. Time to change. I need to do something worthwhile, something useful with what's left of my life. Take risks, have adventures....be in love and not alone.

  The face that stared back at her from the tunnel-darkened window looked confident. As though the resolve that was forming was already shedding a heaviness. A bit like pulling off a thick jumper and feeling the summer sun on your skin.

  And surely, she thought, it might just help Jacques to climb out of the mess he's fallen into. If he carries on like he is, I'm sure he'll be dead within a year...or in jail. Locked up for something unimaginably awful, I just know it.

  Of course, I know that I'm being used by that wretched old man. The love that I felt all those years ago has long gone, dissolved by pity at first, but now replaced by a revulsion, a loathing. And still I continue to run up and down to the city. No more appreciated than a courier, or a servant might be, fetching medicines and treatments from that condescending old man at the army’s tropical disease clinic. Worse still, is when I'm forced to give the treatment that I've been shown. Touch the festering sores, wipe away the puss and blood. When I make my changes it'll stop. In fact it'll stop now. This'll be the last time. The very last time. And I mean it.

  ‘I do!’' I said aloud. Louder than perhaps I should, because the woman in the seat across the aisle turned toward me and frowned.

  ‘Are you alright my dear?’ she asked with concern.

  ‘Oh...yes. Yes, thank you. I must have been dreaming.’ I explained lamely.

  The stranger nodded and turned back to her book.

  I looked back at the dark window and the reflection of me, now clear against a night sky. Then of course there's William. My dear William, I know he'll give me any support and help that I need. I've only known him for a few weeks and it feels as though I've known him forever. A verse of the poem that William had read to me from his scruffy little note book came into my mind, I could almost hear him.

  Just four days we've been together,

  sometimes it feels as if I've known you forever.

  We've always got so much to do, you and I

  it's no wonder that time gallops by.

  The face in the window dabbed at a tear.

  ‘William, cheri, you are the only thing in my life that I don't want to change.' I said quietly to my reflected self.

  The stranger, I could see her reflection behind mine, looked at me and smiled.

  I must have dozed off to sleep, something I never do, I'm always frightened of missing my station or being robbed. But I became aware of someone gently shaking my elbow. The stranger smiled down at me. She had her coat on and her case in her hand.

  ‘Oh, what is it. Where are we?' I asked.

  ‘Time for both of us to get off I think. Come, let me help you with your coat, it’ll be cold out there.

  ~ ~ ~

  Marie could see the house, or at least where it was, long before she arrived at the gate. It looked as though every light in the house had been turned on. She stopped her car at the gate and looked around. There was no sign of anybody around. No cars in the driveway. No noise.

  ‘Oh, what’s he been doing this time.’ she said angrily slapping her hands against the steering wheel. ‘Well...if he wants to behave like a silly twelve year-old, I’ll bloody well treat him like one.’

  The house, I thought, felt cold, as though it had been raped and left for dead. Almost every door had been left open. Checking each room didn’t take long. Nobody here, but I could see where he’d been looking, searching. Drawers not quite shut, a wardrobe door left open and papers not in the neat piles I’d left them in. I reset the Alarm system and pressed the switch to close the heavy, iron driveway gates. It was something I’d not done for a long time and I’d almost forgotten how to do it.

  On the kitchen counter was the purse he’d taken yesterday. The cash was gone of course, so were the cards. I assumed they’d been kept by wherever he tried to use them. And it looked to me like he’d been searching for more money. I knew he didn’t find anything.

  I suddenly felt very tired and alone, I poured a good measure of brandy into a glass and took it upstairs to my bedroom. The tiny red lamp on the telephone base was flashing to show there was a message, I hoped it would be from William. To hear his friendly voice.

  The first message was from Madeleine, my housekeeper, a retired headmistress and Thierry’s wife. She said she needed to visit a relative, so would call earlier than usual for a Sunday, perhaps about seven if that was ok.

  The next two were cold callers and I deleted them, the last one was the voice I wanted to hear. William told me about his evening with Rachel and mentioned what he’d seen at the house when they passed. He said that I must call him if I felt worried or frightened and he’d be over to take me back to his house.

  I played his message again several times, I could almost feel his presence in the room and could smell his body on our sheets from last night. I fell into a restless sleep and was fully awake very early. I packed a small bag with clean jeans and a shirt so I could get changed at the club house later. As an afterthought, I slipped my wallet into a side pocket of the
bag with my keys. I might need some overnight things too, I thought with a smile.

  Showered and dressed, I went down to the kitchen. Coffee first I thought then I’ll make up a salad bowl so we can have a late lunch with Rachel after William’s silly entry test is over with. I dropped the overnight bag by the door so I wouldn’t forget it.

  This ridiculous initiation thing was something Jacques had devised and insisted on. He said it would be a bit of fun for the members, but it had all become too serious and was getting out of hand – especially when his loutish pals turn up for the sport. Well, it will stop. And I think I will put an end to it today! I won’t be popular, I know that. But I don’t much care. My plans will be common knowledge soon enough. And that’ll change everything anyway.

  ~ ~ ~

  That’s it, I’ve got everything. A good Gambas salad with homemade mayonnaise. Hmm, better put the fish in a separate pot in case Rachel doesn’t like them, I thought...Or maybe she’s vegetarian, William didn’t say.

  The front door slammed shut, just as the alarm siren began its awful screeching.

  ‘What the hell have you done all this for.’ shouted my son. ‘Bloody gate shut. I had to park on the road and climb over. Looked a proper idiot!’

  I pressed the pass-code into the alarm’s remote control and the siren stopped.

  ‘And yesterday you did another stupid thing. You reported me as a thief!’ he shouted, bringing his face very close to mine. ‘Had to go to the cops to explain, and now I need more money. Where’ve you hidden it.’

  ‘You’ve no right to come in here demanding anything....You lazy good-for-nothing.’ my voice was crackling with temper, but I couldn’t stop it. ‘Looked an idiot climbing over the gate did you? Well maybe your friends saw you for what you really are! Brains addled by drugs and booze that you can’t afford. You’ll get nothing more from me. Nothing...Do you hear me?’