No Holds Barred (6 page)

Daniel watched as she put the bridle on and positioned the thick saddle pad and striped blanket on the horse's back, then, at her bidding, went to fetch the saddle.

‘Wow, that's heavy!' he said as he swung it into position on Piper's back.

‘It is heavy, but the weight is spread over a wider area, so it's actually more comfortable for the horse,' Sue explained. ‘Remember, these were developed by people who rode all day long and they had to be strong enough to hold a roped steer.'

She showed him how to tighten the short cinch or girth with the thick rawhide strap that attached it to the saddle, then slapped Piper on the neck and handed the long, split reins to Daniel.

‘All yours. Have fun. If you get lost, just let him have his head and he'll bring you home. He knows where his tea is.'

Piper stood like a rock as Daniel stepped into the leather stirrup and swung into the suede seat of the saddle.

‘He's been well trained, so keep your movements light. Reins in one hand and lay them against his neck to turn. You can stop him by just putting a hand on his withers if you want, and don't kick him in the ribs or he'll take off like a bat out of hell and leave you sitting in the dirt! Also, if you get off and trail the reins, he'll stand still until you come back to him.'

‘Right-oh, thanks.' Daniel's head whirled with all the instructions, but, keeping his touch light, managed to set off without incident. Moments later, he had left the yard with a wave to Sue and was following a grass track uphill between two fields towards a beech hanger near the ridge.

Once Daniel had got used to him, Piper was a dream to ride. The saddle was like an armchair, and the long stirrup length suited him well. When he found a stretch of inviting turf, Daniel took a handful of mane and then applied his legs firmly to the animal's sides, to test Sue's claim about his acceleration. He seemed such a calm horse; it was difficult to imagine him leaping swiftly into action.

She hadn't exaggerated. As soon as he felt the pressure, Piper bunched his muscles and shot away with a thrust like a drag racer. There was no warning – no apparent stage of speeding up. He was just suddenly running, and Daniel knew that if he hadn't been prepared, he'd certainly have been ignominiously dumped on the grass.

Leaning forward a little, he let the horse run, with Taz stretching to keep up at his side, until he came to the beech trees and roots criss-crossed the path underfoot. The lightest pressure brought Piper back to hand, and Daniel relaxed and began to enjoy himself immensely.

He'd ridden for about half an hour, and was reluctantly thinking that it was time he made his way back, when he became aware of the sound of human activity some way ahead and to his left.

He reined Piper in and sat still to listen, but for a moment all he could hear was the wind through the trees and the creaking of the saddle as the horse's sides moved with his breathing. Then, just as he thought he'd been mistaken, it came again: a faint clanking sound, as of metal being thrown against metal.

Jenny had given him the impression there was nothing in this area except hayfields and a couple of empty barns, and Daniel's curiosity was aroused. Telling the dog to stay close, he edged Piper forward. After about fifty yards or so, they topped a shallow rise and could see the brighter daylight of an open stretch of land a little way ahead.

Keeping to the soft leaf mould at the side of the pathway, he rode closer until he could see a tumbledown shed at the edge of the field and someone moving about in front of it. A familiar dark-blue van stood to one side, its rear doors open, and as he approached, two men emerged from the shed carrying something between them. Their burden was clearly heavy, and halfway to the van one of the men lost his grip and dropped it, to the accompaniment of much foul language from his companion.

‘Do you want a hand?' Daniel offered, riding out of the trees.

There was quite a wind over the ridge, singing through the leaves of the beech trees, and it was clear from their reactions that neither of the men had heard his approach. As they whipped round, Daniel saw Taylor Boyd and his younger brother, Ricky – he of the blue pick-up and threatening behaviour. Neither looked particularly overjoyed to see him.

‘I wondered if you wanted some help?' he said again.

Taylor recovered first.

‘No, you're all right,' he said. ‘We can manage.'

Daniel rode closer. ‘It looks pretty heavy.'

The two men were obviously wishing him gone, and, perversely, that made him quite keen to stay. He gestured at the sizeable length of smooth, painted steel at their feet. It looked like part of some sort of farm machinery. ‘So, what is that?'

‘Mind your own fucking business!' Ricky flared up, but his brother told him to shut up.

‘Just some scrap metal Mrs Summers wanted cleared away. It's only rusting away up here now no one's using it.'

Daniel nodded his approval.

‘I expect she'll get a nice little bit for that – the price of scrap being what it is,' he said. ‘Handy, your family being in the trade.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed as if he was unsure whether Daniel's remark was as ingenuous as it sounded. He apparently decided to take it at face value.

‘We're all pulling together to help while the boss is in hospital. That's the kind of community it is,' he said smoothly.

‘That's nice. Oh, well, if you're sure there's nothing I can do, I'll be on my way,' Daniel said, turning Piper away.

He rode until the gloom of the wood and the slope of the land made it impossible for the brothers to see him, then cut along the side of the hill and turned back up towards the shed from a different angle.

Still some way off, he reined in and stepped down from the saddle in true Western style using the stirrup, à la John Wayne. Unwilling to test Piper's much-vaunted obedience any further at this sensitive moment, he tied the long split reins to a small tree, which the horse immediately set about stripping of foliage. Using a sharp whisper, he told Taz to stay, then made his way forward, moving silently from tree to tree, his eyes on the pair by the van.

That they had been having a humdinger of an argument was plain to see, and Daniel felt it was a fair bet that he was the cause. Taking advantage of the brothers disappearing into the shed once more, he moved still closer, until he was barely twenty feet away from the van, and hunkered down under cover of a bramble bush and a decaying tree stump.

Moments later, Ricky came out again, carrying an armful of newish-looking angle-iron fence posts, followed by Taylor dragging a rusty metal roller, which squeaked in protest as it turned.

Ricky said something over his shoulder that was lost on the wind as far as Daniel was concerned, but he heard Taylor's reply.

‘Well, that was bloody stupid, to start with! And what's more, it didn't work, did it?'

‘That wasn't my fault,' his younger brother protested petulantly, throwing his bundle of metal into the van. ‘At least I did
something
. And I'll tell you what I think—'

‘I don't care what you think! You don't make the decisions; I do. And what's all the panic for? He's just a driver, that's all. Temporary. He'll probably be gone soon.'

‘But he's in the house.'

‘For now.'

‘And anyway, I don't trust him; he's got a kind of look.'

‘A look?' Taylor sounded amused. ‘You're just hacked off cos he wasn't scared of you.' He turned to face the younger man. ‘Listen, when the time comes – if he makes trouble, I'll take care of him. Until then, just lay off. OK?'

Ricky made a face and nodded reluctantly.

‘Good. Now, give me a hand getting this bloody thing in or we'll be here all night, and I need to see a man about a very expensive dog.'

Daniel mulled over what he'd heard for much of the ride back, but he couldn't make much sense of it. Ricky's words confirmed that it wasn't so much him personally but his occupation of Forester's Cottage that was an issue, but they left him no nearer to knowing why. His brother's statement that if he made waves he would be taken care of was very interesting, and all the more so because of the calm assurance with which it was made. Taylor Boyd was definitely a man to keep an eye on.

Back in the yard, he stripped the tack off Piper and washed the sweat from his coat, giving a glowing report of his ride to Sue, who appeared as he was turning the horse out in the paddock.

‘He's a cracker, isn't he?' she agreed, coming to stand beside Daniel as he leaned on the paddock fence, watching Piper roll in the dust.

‘What time do you finish?' he asked, looking at his watch. It was half past seven.

‘When everything's done. Why? Were you going to ask me out?' she quizzed with a sideways look of amusement.

‘Well, no – I was just curious. It must be a long day for you.'

‘It is, but I don't mind. I love the horses. You don't do this job if you're a nine-to-five sort. Besides, I've known Jenny for ever – we went to school together – and she really needs the support right now.'

‘You're not wrong there. Actually – do you fancy getting a bite to eat?' Daniel asked.

‘No, really. You don't have to. I was only teasing.'

‘I know. But why not? I've got nothing much at the cottage. Of course, you've probably got family waiting for you. Stupid of me  . . .'

‘Just my dad, and he expects me when he sees me.' She tilted her head to one side with a smile. ‘OK. Thanks. Why not?'

On Sue's recommendation, they chose The Fox and Duck for their meal. The Crown was OK, she told him, but trying too hard to be a contemporary eatery. The Fox had good home-cooked food at sensible prices, she said. It was the one the real locals used.

The first person Daniel saw, as he ducked through the low doorway, was none other than Taylor Boyd, standing at the bar with Dek Edwards.

‘Whelan.' Boyd nodded curtly in Daniel's direction, then caught sight of his companion. ‘Hi, Sue. All right?'

‘Fine,' she replied briefly, her cheeks flushing with colour. She slipped her hand through Daniel's arm.

Lounging against the bar, Edwards leered in her direction. ‘All right, Sue? You don't waste any time, do you? What's the new boy got that I haven't?'

‘Manners, for a start,' she retorted, then turned to Daniel. ‘Shall we go through to the other bar?'

‘If you like.'

‘I do.'

‘I take it there's a bit of history between you and Boyd,' Daniel said as the door swung to behind them.

‘What makes you say that?'

‘Your body language. You seemed very keen to show him that you were with me.'

‘Yeah, well, I was stupid enough to go out with him once, and once was all it took. God, I must have been desperate! Talk about an ego. Trouble is, he acts as if we're mates now, and we're so not. I don't even like him!'

‘And what about Dek? What's the story there?'

‘Him? No story. He's just a low-life. He's got the hots for Taylor's sister, from what I've heard. Round there at every opportunity, drooling over her like some lovesick tomcat. I'd almost feel sorry for the girl if she wasn't such a poisonous slut.'

‘Wow! Don't hold back on my account,' Daniel told her.

‘Sorry.' Sue had the grace to look a little sheepish. ‘We have history.'

Daniel let the subject drop and she said no more about it, but she kept an eye on the door to the public bar all through the meal, leaving him to wonder whether she was dreading Boyd following or hoping he would. Daniel began to suspect that he'd been used, but he couldn't complain, for, in a way, that was just what he was doing, too.

FIVE

A
s a social occasion, the meal with Sue Devlin was time enjoyably spent; as a fact-finding mission, it was perhaps less worthwhile.

Gently probing, Daniel formed the impression that she didn't know Gavin Summers particularly well. He had no interest in the horses and rarely visited the stables unless it was in search of Jenny, she said, and this in itself obviously put him low in her estimation. The little information she did volunteer confirmed the notion Daniel already had of a marriage, if not in crisis, then at the very least becoming stale. He gained the impression that Sue wasn't altogether unhappy about that fact.

What also became clear was the affection that had been felt locally for Jenny's first husband, Colin Barton, killed in a tragic farming accident. This wasn't especially surprising, as Great Ditton was a close-knit community and his family had apparently been part of it for generations. As an incomer, Gavin was immediately at a disadvantage, and Daniel found himself feeling sympathy for the man.

Not entirely trusting Sue's apparent attitude towards Taylor Boyd, Daniel trod carefully in seeking information about him, merely observing that he appeared to have practically taken over the running of the haulage business in Gavin's absence and that this must be a relief to Jenny.

‘Relief's not the word I would use.'

‘What d'you mean?' Daniel asked, taking a sip of his after-dinner coffee.

‘Well, the thing is, I don't think she trusts him a hundred per cent. Gavin took him on, see; she never would have. The family's too well known around here.'

‘Well known for what?'

‘Well, you know – they've got a bit of a reputation.'

‘They own the garage, don't they?'

‘Yeah, and the scrapyard – or salvage yard, as they like to call it. And there's some as say that not all the scrap that goes through there
is
scrap, if you know what I mean.'

Daniel did. It was a countrywide problem. With the price of raw metal being what it was, anything metallic that wasn't tied down – and some that was – went walkabout of a dark night. Lead off the church roof, copper piping, metal railings and even manhole covers were all considered fair game by the thieves, and farmers were bearing the brunt of the problem, losing oil and diesel reserves, as well as tractors and other machinery. His suspicions of that afternoon were confirmed.