Phantom Horse 4: Phantom Horse in Danger Read online

  “Nothing but bills,” he said.

  I was now dressed in a hideous polyester dress that I hated, which I had found in Mum’s wardrobe, a ghastly blue jacket, and a pair of uncomfortable shoes. I had found lipstick, eyeshadow and mascara in her dressing table and put on some makeup. I felt ugly and unpleasant; a whiny female who nagged.

  “You look terrific,” Angus exclaimed. “I’m not putting my moustache on until after breakfast.”

  “It would be funny if it wasn’t so awful,” I answered.

  I had forced myself to eat the egg I had boiled, and now I was waiting again for time to pass, incapable of doing anything.

  Angus found my wig and I put it on in front of the hall mirror. I looked even worse with it on. Angus looked at me and laughed.

  “He’ll never recognise you, Jean. I wouldn’t know you myself, you look so awful.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Angus looked quite handsome with his moustache, if you like moustaches. It was now eight o’clock, and I remembered my dark glasses.

  “That’s the final touch,” said Angus, when I had put them on. “You look at least twenty-five and a real old bag.”

  At eight-fifteen I tripped outside in my hideous outfit to catch Phantom, but he took one look at me and fled. Round and round the orchard he galloped with his tail above his back, issuing ear-piercing snorts. Twilight followed, tiny and defiant.

  I found a bucket of oats and called to him, but he wouldn’t be caught. I took off my dark glasses and the wig and then he came cautiously, ready to flee at every step. I slipped a rope over his neck, talking to him all the time; then I put on our tattered head collar and led him to the yard. Angus held him while I put on my wig and dark glasses again. Three minutes later Dominic arrived and burst out laughing when he saw us.

  “Terrific,” he cried. “I’ve never seen such a change. You look awful, Jean, absolutely ghastly. I don’t think I’ll call you my wife.” He looked the same except for the hat, which made him appear older. He was full of energy, enjoying himself so much that I almost hated him.

  Angus let down the ramp on the trailer. I spoke to Phantom and patted his neck. He followed me as far as the ramp and then stopped.

  “He boxes all right, doesn’t he?” Dominic asked anxiously.

  “Usually,” I answered.

  Phantom stood looking around him, looking for Killarney, I thought, thinking that perhaps, like his friend, he wouldn’t come back. It brought a lump to my throat. “It’s all right,” I said, feeling a traitor.

  He followed me up in the end and Dominic gave a triumphant cheer. I tied him up and Angus threw up the ramp.

  “We’re on our way,” cried Dominic, starting the engine. “And I’ve got a surprise for you, Jean,” he added as I sat down beside him, and he sprayed me all over with scent. “You must smell right,” he said, laughing. “Mum was given it for Christmas. It smells horrible – very cheap.”

  “It certainly suits the outfit,” said Angus, opening a window.

  “By the way, the abattoirs are still on strike,” said Dominic, after a time. “I heard it on the seven o’clock news, but they are going back tomorrow.”

  “So there’s still only today,” I said. “Just twenty-four hours.”

  “How do you know everything, Dominic?” asked Angus.

  “I keep the radio on, even in the tractor. I hear the news every hour. The whole lot are out. Someone sacked a shop steward. There won’t be any meat in the shops next week,” replied Dominic. “And don’t be so dramatic, Jean. You over-dramatise everything. We are going to save the horses, don’t worry,” he said.

  “Touch wood.”

  There wasn’t any wood in the Land Rover so I touched my head.

  We stopped to buy some petrol and Angus paid out of the housekeeping money, which was supposed to pay Mrs Parkin and keep us till our parents came back.

  “Do cheer up, Jean,” said Dominic, touching my arm. “This will soon be over.”

  But I couldn’t cheer up. I felt a different person in my hideous clothes. I felt ugly and nasty inside and, at the same time, I was filled with nagging fears which gnawed at my stomach.

  I wanted my parents to come home and take over, particularly Dad, who had friends in all sorts of places, and knew the right people, such as chief constables and magistrates.

  I didn’t trust Dominic and Angus to be a match for Geoff Craig and June. I didn’t even trust myself.

  We travelled through a town and there was sunlight everywhere – and a newspaper placard which read: SLAUGHTERMEN GO BACK TOMMOROW. I can’t take the money for Phantom, I thought, it would be physically impossible. But Dominic will take it. I wished that the sun would stop shining, and I hated the happy people in the street, buying themselves spring outfits, lettuces and fruit. Then I started to feel sick.

  Dominic looked at me anxiously. “We’re nearly there. Open the window wider, Angus,” he said.

  “It isn’t the Land Rover,” I answered. “It’s everything.”

  We left the town behind.

  “He lives on a farm. Dad says it’s a smart place with white rail fences and a brand-new house with a swimming pool in front.”

  “Charming,” said Angus.

  “It can’t be more than a mile from here,” Dominic continued. “So let’s stop and run through everything.” He parked in a lay-by.

  I wanted to speak to Phantom, but Dominic was against it.

  “You’ll only cry,” he said. “And we haven’t much time. If we are late he will have gone out. I’m told he often plays golf in the mornings. Now, I am the owner of Phantom, okay? When I start talking, you switch on your recorder; Angus, right?”

  “Right,” agreed Angus.

  “I shall offer him for sale. I shan’t bother about a good home. I just want him got rid of quick because he’s ‘hot’ – stolen.”

  “He should really have been stolen from us, then we would be sure to get him back,” I answered.

  “It’s too late to change plans now,” Angus said.

  “You two must stand looking a bit goofy. Then, when Geoff Craig has incriminated himself, Angus slips off and calls the police. Look, there’s a phone box in front of us now, Angus, that will do.”

  “But supposing he wants to know where I’ve gone?” asked Angus.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll handle that,” Dominic replied.

  “I don’t seem to have anything to do,” I complained.

  “That doesn’t matter. You are in reserve. Anything may happen,” said Dominic, restarting the engine.

  “I should have some reason to go,” Angus said.

  “Well, look, here’s a café and it’s sure to have a telephone, so you could say, ‘Mind if I go for some fags?’ and slip away,” Dominic suggested.

  The café was a one-storey building with a petrol station in front. It was called the Wee Waif. Lorries were parked in a lay-by opposite. Long net curtains hid the windows.

  “Perfect,” exclaimed Dominic. “Just right for us.”

  “My legs feel like string,” said Angus.

  We could see the house now, long and low, ranch-like, with a swimming pool in front, a tennis court at the side, and four new loose boxes and an outdoor school. Beyond it all lay older buildings, including an enormous hangar big enough for a jumbo jet and a field full of horses of all sizes. We got out of the Land Rover and looked for Killarney.

  “He’s still there. Look,” cried Angus in a shaky voice.

  “Keep very calm,” answered Dominic. “Don’t panic.”

  “There’s June,” I cried. “Look, by the loose boxes.”

  “Remember who you are. My name is Jim Mallet and you’re my wife, and he’s Steve,” said Dominic, pointing at Angus, and now his voice was strained. Looking at him as we drove on, I saw how tense he was, like a rubber band stretched as tight as it will go.

  June was leading a bay thoroughbred out of a box as we stopped, and when Dominic jumped out and raised his hat, she ca
lled, “Dad’s inside.”

  “You stay here,” said Dominic, “but be ready with the recorder, Angus.”

  He looked at least twenty-four as he walked away. Angus held the recorder. He had only to press a button and everything Geoff Craig said would be recorded.

  Dominic was banging on the front door. Geoff Craig opened the door himself. “What is it?” he shouted. At the same time Angus stepped on to the drive and stood holding the recorder as though it was a radio.

  “I’ve got a horse for sale. I hear you buy them,” said Dominic, pointing at the trailer. “I don’t want much for him.”

  They came towards us. I stayed in the cab of the Land Rover.

  “Well, I’ve got plenty of horses as you can see, so the price must be right,” said Geoff Craig.

  “He’s got plenty of flesh on him, but I don’t want him to hang about, if you know what I mean,” said Dominic.

  “Oh, he’s one of those is he?” replied Geoff Craig with a laugh. “You won’t get much then.”

  “I lifted him straight out of a field. I had to cut the padlock. It’s getting harder all the time,” continued Dominic.

  “What is he then – a palomino?” asked Geoff Craig, peering into the trailer.

  “Yes, would you like me to get him out for you? I haven’t seen much of him myself, because it was dark when I fetched him,” said Dominic.

  “No, don’t bother. I can see enough from here. I don’t really want him anyway. You can see how many I’ve got already and the abattoir can’t handle more than twenty a day.”

  “I’d better be going then,” said Dominic, while Angus looked uncertain what to do.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you seven hundred and fifty, which, seeing that he’s stolen, is a pretty good price.”

  “Done,” said Dominic. “Where shall I put him?”

  “Come in first and get the money. Is that your girlfriend in the Land Rover?”

  “Wife.”

  “I’ll just slip down to the café for some fags, all right, Jim?” asked Angus.

  “Okay, Steve,” said Dominic.

  “Well, bring her along too and we might be able to rustle up some coffee,” suggested Geoff Craig.

  My legs were shaking as I stepped on to the drive. Dominic took my arm. “She’s just getting over the flu and she’s still a bit weak on her legs,” he said.

  Mrs Craig came to greet us when we were inside the house. She said, “Pleased to meet you,” and held out a small hand.

  The sitting room was full of silver cups. There wasn’t a book to be seen, only Horse and Hound on a low coffee table.

  “How did you hear of me then?” asked Geoff Craig.

  “Through a farmer friend, can’t remember his name. He said he had sold you a horse or two,” replied Dominic.

  Mrs Craig made us some coffee. Geoff Craig handed me a cup and my hands were shaking so much that he said, “Your wife is cold, we had better put some heat on. She’s very poorly, isn’t she?”

  “She suffers from nerves,” said Dominic with the trace of a smile.

  We drank our coffee out of expensive cups while Geoff Craig gave Dominic a handful of notes, saying, “Count them, there should be seven hundred and fifty there.”

  I looked at the notes, thinking: Just a few bits of paper for a horse, how can people do it?

  Dominic was standing up now. “All fair and square. Thank you very much, Mr Craig.”

  “Not at all, if you have any more the same, I’ll buy them any time,” he said.

  “That’s a deal, sir,” replied Dominic, holding out his hand.

  They shook hands and Geoff Craig said, “Now you look after that wife of yours, Jim, she doesn’t look at all well to me.”

  Dominic answered, “Nerves are the very devil. Where do you want me to put the horse, sir?”

  “Over there in the hangar. I want him out of sight,” he replied

  “Yes, sir,” said Dominic.

  “What now?” I asked as we reached the trailer. “The police haven’t arrived. What about Phantom?”

  “Hop in,” said Dominic. “They’re watching us.”

  We drove down the drive and stopped by the hangar. It was surrounded by old pieces of motorcars and broken tractors. The doors were locked.

  “The key is on the ground under a stone,” shouted Geoff Craig.

  “Do you think they are alive inside?” I asked.

  “Of course,” replied Dominic, searching for the key.

  “I’m scared,” I said.

  “You’re always scared, Jean. Where’s your courage?”

  “It’s not your horse that’s going in there,” I answered.

  I stared down the drive. There was no sign of anyone. “I can’t see Angus,” I said.

  “It’s a good five minutes’ walk to the café,” said Dominic.

  He had found the key. He waved it in the direction of the house and we heard the front door slam.

  “Now for the doors,” he said.

  “And goodbye Phantom,” I answered.

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” said Dominic. “Here comes June.”

  8

  She called, “What are you doing there? This is private property.”

  Dominic straightened his back and looked at her.

  “It’s all right, miss,” he answered. “We’ve just seen your dad. It’s all okay.”

  She was beautifully turned out and so was her horse. I felt her sizing me up, despising what she saw. I looked down the drive and saw Angus coming back. He waved and called, “They’re coming presently.”

  June asked, “Who are ‘they’?” I had to admit she was quick on the uptake.

  “He’s my mate. He’s invited some pals to meet us in the café up the road. It’s not every day I’ve got seven hundred and fifty quid in my pocket.”

  “I know his voice,” she said, riding towards Angus.

  “Hey, miss, he’s married,” shouted Dominic laughing, but his laughter sounded false. “Come on, get Phantom out quick,” he said.

  We backed Phantom out, but he wouldn’t approach the hangar. Angus came running towards us, crying “Want a hand, mate?”

  “I know you,” cried June. “So you must know me.”

  “I’ve never set eyes on you before,” Angus said.

  I gave Angus Phantom’s head collar-rope and slipped into the hangar. It was full of horses and ponies of all shapes and sizes. Most of them looked bewildered and two were no more than foals. Three whinnied and came up to me, so clearly begging to be released that I found it difficult not to cry.

  There was plenty of hay at the far end and a trough of water, so it was obvious that they weren’t meant to lose weight while under sentence of death.

  I felt like pulling off my wig and screaming at June, “I know you, you killer.” But Angus and Dominic were pushing Phantom into the hangar inch by inch, and my worst nightmare was coming true.

  “Coax him, Jean,” hissed Dominic.

  And I whispered, “I can’t. I can’t betray him like that.”

  I was crying. June had dismounted and was staring at us with hostility and perplexity fairly mixed on her face.

  Angus slammed the door behind Phantom, banging his hocks. “That’s that,” he said.

  Inside the hangar, we all looked at each other in alarm.

  “For heaven’s sake, let’s get out of here, she knows we’re imposters,” said Dominic.

  “Supposing they try and beat us up – where’s the recorder?” said Dominic.

  “Buried in the groom’s compartment. I’m not a fool,” said Angus.

  “What did the police say?” asked Dominic.

  “That they would investigate. They said that there was nothing wrong with the horsemeat trade. I think they respect Geoff Craig,” explained Angus with awful gloom in his voice.

  “We can’t stay here,” said Dominic.

  “What are we going to do, then?” I asked. “These ponies are probably all stolen. Tomorr
ow most of them will be killed and there will be no evidence left, just the meat on its way to the Continent. Couldn’t you make the police understand?”

  “I tried. If I could have met them face to face it might have been different, but there was a man tapping on the side of the kiosk all the time and that didn’t help.”

  “Oh God, we’ve failed,” cried Dominic. “Let’s get out of here and think.”

  I left Phantom and we stepped outside, slamming the doors after us. I could see Killarney grazing less than fifty metres away, and neither of them were ours any more.

  June was waiting for us outside the hangar. She said, “Your wig is coming off, Jean. Why are you dressed up like that? What do you want?”

  “Nothing,” replied Dominic.

  “Look down there at your Land Rover. The two men there are waiting to beat you up. They are ex-convicts. There won’t be much left of you when they’ve finished,” she said.

  “Charming,” replied Angus, and I saw that his moustache had slipped. “But how can you live like this, watching horses and ponies go for slaughter?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Well, you love horses, don’t you? Or is it all a pretence?” asked Angus. “And isn’t living so close to those condemned rather like living next to the gas chamber?”

  “How do you feel when you see them leave?” asked Dominic. “Doesn’t it hurt you? Or are you so hard you don’t care?”

  “Of course I care,” she said. I knew by her voice that she was cracking. “I hate the trade, but I can’t change Dad. He’s made all his money out of it. I can ride because of the business. We live in comfort. He’s risen up in the world. What do you expect me to do, go to the police?”

  “Can’t you talk to him?” I asked.

  “No one can talk to him,” she replied simply.

  “I’m sorry,” said Dominic.

  “What for?”

  “For you.”

  “Well, I’m sorry for you,” she answered, and I could see a tear smudging her mascara, “because you’re going to be in a sorry state soon, when those two down there have finished with you.”