ELEVEN

When Daniel knocked on the door of his flat, a small voice dutifully asked for his identity.

‘Drew, it’s me. Dad.’

There came the sound of bolts being drawn back and a key turning and then Drew’s dark face peered round the opening edge of the door. When he saw that it was indeed his father, he opened the door fully and rushed forward into Daniel’s embrace.

‘Dad, you scared me earlier! What’s going on?’

Daniel’s relief was so great that instead of answering, he swept the boy off his feet and hugged him soundly, feeling the thin arms clutching him tight.

‘I scared you? What about your mother and me? What on earth were you thinking of, coming here without telling either of us? We were worried sick!’

‘But if I’d asked, Mum wouldn’t have let me come.’

‘For a reason,’ Daniel said, setting him back on his feet again. ‘You’re too young to be travelling alone. Anything could have happened.’

‘I was all right. I came on the train.’ Drew made a big fuss of Taz, who was fawning around him, tail wagging happily. ‘Nothing happened.’

‘But it could have. How did you get here from the station?’

‘I got a taxi,’ Drew said, as if that were the most normal thing on earth for an eight-year-old to do.

‘That must have cost an arm and a leg!’ Daniel exclaimed. ‘Where did you get the money?’

‘Grandma gave me some money at Christmas and I’ve been saving up my pocket money,’ Drew said, adding defiantly, ‘I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

Guiltily, Daniel supposed the thought had flashed through his mind. Ten years in the police force had conditioned him to suspect the worst, even – it seemed – of his own son.

‘I’ll give you the money. How long have you been planning this?’ he asked, secretly rather impressed by Drew’s determination.

‘For absolutely ages. Weeks and weeks. I know you said I could come some weekends but couldn’t live here, but I thought if I came in half-term, you’d see that it would work.’

‘But it didn’t, did it? I wasn’t here.’ Daniel sighed. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and propelled him towards the door. He couldn’t rule out the possibility that one of the Romanians might have watched and followed him from the crash site, and he didn’t want to risk being cornered there with Drew in tow. ‘Come on, let’s go and get some breakfast somewhere.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘There’s a nice little bakery I know – not too far from here,’ Daniel told him, and Drew brightened at the prospect. Checking his flat would have to wait until the boy was safely back with Amanda.

‘What’s the matter with Taz’s head?’ Drew wanted to know as they left the building and Daniel closed the door carefully.

‘He got in a fight with a burglar,’ Daniel said, falling back on the story he’d told them at the vet’s. ‘He was very poorly for a while. That’s why we weren’t here last night. We’ve been staying with friends.’

‘In case the burglar came back?’

‘Something like that. It’s complicated, but you can see why I was worried to find you were here on your own.’

‘So, what happened to your face? It’s all scratched.’

‘Something went through the windscreen of the lorry this morning,’ Daniel told him. It was the truth, if a Spartan version of it.

‘Do you think they’ll have stolen much?’

‘One or two things, maybe, but there’s not an awful lot they’d want,’ Daniel told him as they got into Fred’s car. ‘Let’s give Mum a ring before we go.’

Drew’s face fell. ‘Do we have to ring her?’

‘Of course we do. She’s worried sick about you.’

Daniel took his phone out of his pocket, but before he could find Amanda’s number on the speed-dial list, she rang him.

She didn’t wait for Daniel to speak.

‘Have you found him? Is he there?’

‘Yes, I’ve got him. He’s fine.’ Daniel put the car in gear and started down the drive, anxious to get on to the open road.

‘Oh, thank God!’ Amanda’s voice sounded choked with emotion, but within moments she was back on form. ‘And just when were you intending to let me know?’ she enquired. ‘You said you’d ring in fifteen minutes and it’s been three-quarters of an hour! You knew how worried I was!’

‘I know, but I had a spot of bother on the way and I’ve only just got here.’ Useless to say he’d been on the point of calling her: she wouldn’t believe him.

‘Well, where is he? I want to talk to him.’

Daniel held the phone out to Drew. ‘Mum wants a word.’

Drew pulled a reluctant face but took it. ‘Hi, Mum.’

There was a pause during which Daniel could hear Amanda’s voice. Then Drew said, ‘I know. I’m sorry. I just really wanted to see Dad . . . I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

Feeling like an eavesdropper, Daniel tried to concentrate on his driving, but after a moment, holding the phone away from his mouth, Drew said, ‘Mum says I’ve got to go home. Tell her I can stay – please? Just for a few days, at least . . .’

Daniel glanced at the boy’s hopeful face and had to steel himself.

‘I’m sorry, Drew. You can’t just now.’

‘Dad, please. I promise I won’t get in the way. Please . . .’ The last word was drawn out and pleading, his eyes desperate.

‘It’s really not a good time, Drew. You can see what a mess everything’s in. Besides, you’re going to Butlins this weekend, aren’t you?’

As soon as he’d said it, he could see that he’d scored an own goal.

‘I hate Butlins!’ Drew declared. ‘I don’t want to go and I wouldn’t have to if I stayed with you. Please, Dad. You know I’m just going to be miserable.’

‘Have you told Mum?’

‘She won’t listen.’

‘I’ll have a word with her when I see her,’ Daniel promised, but his words found no favour with his son, whose expression changed from beseeching to stormy.

‘It’s so not fair! Nobody cares what I want!’ he exclaimed, throwing the phone into Daniel’s lap and looking out of the side window.

Fumbling for the handset, Daniel found that Amanda was still on the line.

‘It’s me. We’re just going to get something to eat. Then I’ll bring him home,’ he told her, and was surprised when she offered to meet him at Exeter instead.

‘I have an appointment there,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you at the station at midday.’

Drew remained looking out of the window, his back turned as far as the seatbelt would allow.

‘If you’re trying to convince me that you’re grown-up enough to make your own decisions, you’re not doing a very good job of it,’ Daniel observed conversationally, after a long silence punctuated only by the scrape of the windscreen wipers.

Drew didn’t say anything, but after a moment, he shifted to face forward. Daniel felt a small glow of pride. It was a horrible situation for a kid to cope with at any age, let alone someone as young as Drew.

‘You think I don’t understand, but I do,’ he said presently. ‘I was about your age when my dad left us. I know how you feel.’

‘If you know, then why did you do it to us?’ Drew asked bitterly.

‘It wasn’t my choice.’

‘Then whose? Was it Mum’s fault?’

Daniel hesitated. Whatever the state of affairs between Amanda and himself, he couldn’t do that to her, and besides, it could only make things worse for the boy.

‘It was nobody’s fault, Drew. We just grew apart. We wanted different things. It happens. The same way you sometimes move on and make new friends at school.’

Drew didn’t respond, and Daniel watched his son’s unhappy profile, desperately wishing he could say or do something that would put the smile back on his face.

‘Why did your father leave?’ the boy asked suddenly.

Daniel turned off the main road into the village where the vet’s surgery was.

‘I don’t really know.’

‘Didn’t you ever ask him?’

‘I never saw him again,’ Daniel said.

‘What, never ever?’ Drew was incredulous. ‘Didn’t you want to?’

‘Yes, of course I did, but maybe he didn’t want to see us. I don’t know. He sent us money at Christmas and birthdays until I was about thirteen, then nothing. I haven’t heard from him since.’

‘Didn’t you look for him?’

‘No.’

‘Why not? Didn’t you love him?’

Daniel searched his memory. Had he loved his father? A long time ago, perhaps; why else would he have felt such a wretched sense of rejection? But the sense of betrayal had turned that love to anger, and now, after twenty-odd years, even that had evapo-rated, leaving behind what? Indifference? No, not that. A faint sense of regret, perhaps, for what might have been, and a determination to do better by his own son. Good intentions, easily formed, but life had a way of buggering everything up.

‘Didn’t you?’ Drew persisted. He was watching his father closely.

Daniel slotted the car into a roadside parking space.

‘Didn’t I what?’

‘Love him.’

Daniel sighed. ‘Yes, I did. And I wrote to him,’ he remembered. ‘When I was eighteen and started police training. I thought he’d be pleased that I was following him into the force. I don’t know if my letter ever reached him, but he never replied.’

His mobile sounded, and relieved at the interruption, Daniel picked it up again.

‘You kept the ringtone I downloaded,’ Drew said, sounding pleased.

‘Of course I did.’

‘You can change it if you like – I don’t mind.’

The caller wasn’t Amanda again, as Daniel had half expected, but Fred Bowden.

‘Hi, Fred.’

‘Daniel. Did you find Drew?’

‘Yes, he’s fine, thank God. Sorry, I should have let you know. How’d it go with the police? Did they give you any grief?’

‘Well, they weren’t exactly over the moon to find you gone,’ Fred said. ‘But I explained about your son and they seemed quite understanding. You have to present yourself at the station with your licence within the next week, though, and they’re going to have VOSA take a look at the lorry.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Daniel said. VOSA was the body that oversaw MOT testing and it was fairly standard procedure to call on them if there were any unusual or suspicious circumstances surrounding an RTA. ‘But, look, I’m afraid I’ve done something a bit stupid – I’ve just told Amanda I’d bring Drew to Exeter at lunchtime, but I forgot I’ve still got your car.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to wait here till the salvage people come. I expect I’ll get a lift with them. Keep the car for now.’

‘OK, thanks.’ Daniel said. ‘I’ve not been much help, have I? I thought I was doing you a favour and all I’ve done is bugger up your day completely.’

‘Well, if I thought you’d done it on purpose, I might be a tad pissed off, but as it is . . . Go on. Take Drew to his mum. I’ll see you later. But, Daniel . . . try not to roll my car!’

Daniel felt deeply unsettled as he left Exeter presently, having reunited Drew with Amanda outside the train station – a process that earned him little thanks from either party.

Amanda, pencil slim in skin-tight jeans, high-heeled boots and a tailored jacket, had given him a look – over Drew’s head – that left him in no doubt that she held him entirely to blame for the incident.

How could such perfect features look so ugly? Daniel found himself wondering as he drove home. Her ice-blue eyes had fairly glittered with malevolence under her platinum-blonde fringe. She wore her hair even shorter now than when they’d been together, cut in a sharp, boyish style that only served to emphasize the hard lines of her face.

Drew, for his part, had left him without so much as a backward glance, which had hurt even more than tears and entreaties would have done. It was as though Daniel had been tested and found wanting, and the boy had now given up all hope of help from that quarter.

There were one or two things Daniel needed to pick up – not the least of which were some clean clothes – so on the way back he made the short detour necessary to call in at the flat.

His approach was cautious, but the yard was empty and the scrap of tissue paper he’d trapped between the door and its post was still reassuringly present.

In the flat, he stood and looked about him for a long moment, trying to decide what, if anything, was missing, but instead finding his mind constantly sliding back to the unhappy situation with Drew.

Wandering from the main room to his partitioned-off sleeping area and back again, Daniel forced his brain to concentrate. Since his split with Amanda, he had very little of material value and those things he did have – wallet, bank cards, watch and mobile phone – he habitually carried on his person, as he had on the night of the attack. The only thing that might have been tempting was his laptop, but that was hardly state of the art, and was still where he’d left it.

Stuffing a change of clothes into a holdall, he collected his mobile-phone charger and picked up the Volvo’s keys from the worktop. With one last look around, his eye was caught for the first time by a small red flashing light half hidden by an untidy pile of papers and magazines.

It took a moment for him to realize what it was – namely the antiquated telephone answering machine that he’d discovered when he moved into the flat. The light had never flashed before. Presumably it denoted a message left. No one had left him a message in the three months he’d lived there. For that matter no one, except for a couple of marketing callers, had ever rung him on the landline – for the simple reason that he hadn’t given anyone the number, retaining the line solely for the Internet connection.

No, wait, someone did have the number, he remembered suddenly. Soon after he met Tamzin, he’d rung her on the landline after accidentally leaving his mobile in the lorry overnight.

Putting his bag down, he went over to the phone and pressed playback. Moments later, Tamzin’s clear county tones sounded through the hiss of the aged tape.

‘Hi, Dan. It’s, er . . . Tuesday. Thought I’d try this number as your mobile seems to be switched off or something. Just wondering how things are going. Is everything OK? How’s Kat? Did you sort her out? Er . . . I’m really glad you enjoyed riding out the other morning. We should do it again soon. If you’d like to, of course. Anyway, give me a call or, better still, come round. Bye, then.’

Daniel switched off the machine, feeling guilty. So much for his promise to stay in touch. He’d seen a couple of missed-call messages on his mobile and, for reasons he didn’t care to examine just at the moment, hadn’t got round to calling back. Later, he would ring her.

Collecting his bag, Daniel left the flat, locked the door at the top of the stairs and descended to the empty showroom below. Outside, the sky was still grey with lowering cloud and a cold wind blew the rain against the back of his neck as he locked the door. The weather reflected his mood and he set off for the TFS depot battling a creeping fog of depression.

In the office, Fred looked up from his desk.

‘Ah, Daniel. Everything OK with Drew?’

‘Yeah. Well, no, actually, but there’s not much I can do about it.’

‘It’ll sort itself out eventually. Do you fancy a coffee?’

‘Thanks. As strong as you like.’ Daniel knew Fred kept a percolator permanently ‘perking’, just topping it up as and when needed. ‘What’s happened about the lorry?’

‘Well, it’s been recovered, but it wasn’t easy,’ Bowden said as he got up to find mugs. ‘They had to get a crane. We transferred your load to Figgy’s lorry before they took it away, and now I’m waiting on VOSA and the insurance assessor. Call me nosy but I could bear to know exactly what happened.’

Daniel sat in the office’s only other chair and told his boss all about the morning’s short but eventful trip.

‘And you still think someone shot the tyre out?’

‘I’m not ruling it out. We both know how rare blow-outs are, and as you pointed out, those were new tyres. I’ve been thinking. When I stopped to take Amanda’s call, there was a minibus parked in the lay-by in front of me. While I was there, some guy got into it with binoculars. I assumed he was a twitcher, but what if he wasn’t? What if he was positioned there to let whoever was waiting at the bottom of the hill know when I was on my way?’

‘Well, I suppose it’s possible – if it was deliberate.’ Fred put a mug down in front of Daniel.

‘Thanks.’ Picking up the coffee, Daniel leaned back in the chair, sighing deeply. ‘Oh, I don’t know – maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being paranoid.’

Fred sat down, regarding his driver appraisingly. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Yes, I took Drew out for a late breakfast.’

‘You look absolutely knackered.’

‘Yeah, it’s been quite a day.’ A glance at his watch showed Daniel that it was only just gone two, but it already felt like a week since he’d got up that morning.

‘Look, when you’ve finished your coffee, why don’t you go back to the house and put your feet up.’

‘But can’t I do anything here?’

‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough for one day?’ Fred joked. ‘No, really. There’s nothing for you to drive, and I can get on with what needs doing here.’

‘OK. If you’re sure,’ Daniel gave in with some relief. His left hand was throbbing under the bandages. It hadn’t been the gentle return to work he’d envisaged.

Barely 5 miles down the road, his phone rang. A glance showed a mobile number unknown to him and he let it ring. If it were important, they’d ring back.

They did. Within moments of the ringtone dying away it was repeated. When it started for a third time, Daniel pulled in to the verge and answered it.

‘Dan? Thank God! Where’ve you been?’ It was Tamzin.

Daniel had to concentrate hard as her voice was almost incoherent, the words tumbling over one another in her rush to get her message across.

‘Tamzin, what’s the matter?’

‘I . . . I’m sorry, Dan. I told them. I couldn’t help it.’

‘Whoa, calm down! You told who what?’

‘The men that came. I couldn’t help it. I told them where Kat is. You have to warn Hilary!’