In Search of Hope (24 page)

‘Her bodyguard. I’m an ex-policeman and her lawyer has asked me to stay with her because she’s afraid you’ll beat her up again. The bruises from last time have only just faded.’

The official looked at him sharply. ‘What? You’re sure of that?’

‘I saw the bruises myself.’

‘She’s lying if she said I hit her. She’s mentally unstable and harms herself. Oh, very well. Here’s my driving licence.’ As Pulford started to take out his wallet, there was the sound of a car engine starting at the front of the houses.

Joss blocked his way for a moment, then heard the car move away, so stepped sideways and let his unwelcome visitors pass him.

Pulford threw open the front door in time to see Libby’s car leave the parking area and vanish down the lane.

Joss grabbed his keys and raced out to his own car before the other two men had realised what he was doing. He knew he had no chance of evading both of them, but if he possibly could, he was going to prevent them from following Libby and her son.

In the morning Des watched Pulford eat his breakfast in the hotel dining room before following him to the magistrate’s court. He was surprised when another man, an official by the looks of him, came out of the court and drove along after him out into the country.

As he followed them, Des debated phoning the lawyer’s rooms and leaving a message to say that he was keeping an eye on Pulford, but decided to wait a little. He would be able to intervene if necessary. And if that guy was an official, there would be an impeccable witness to any wrongdoing.

When the two cars left the main road and took off along a narrow road that led up the hill, Des stayed where he was, checking his satnav.

That road was a dead end, leading to a village called Top o’ the Hill.

He waited to follow them till the two cars had reached the top.

But there was no sign of them in the village. Damn! He turned his car round in case he had to follow them again, and waited.

He sighed. You did a lot of waiting in this job.

Libby slowed down a little as she drove through the village, but speeded up again as she made her way down the hill. She kept an eye on her rear-view mirror but couldn’t see anyone following her.

When she had to stop to give way to someone coming up the hill, she moaned in despair, but the other driver had already started up the narrow one-lane part of the road, so she waited for him to pass.

She’d expected her husband’s car to appear behind her, but there was no sign of it. How had Joss managed to stop Steven pursuing her? She hoped he hadn’t done anything that got him into trouble.

When she turned on to the main road, she looked back at the road up the hill, but there was no sign of any vehicle.

Feeling she had a good chance of getting out of sight before anyone came after her, she set off for the antiques centre, murmuring, ‘Thank you, Joss. Whatever you did, thank you.’

She hoped she’d remember the way and that whatever Joss had done worked for long enough to let her get herself and her son to a refuge.

If the owners had given shelter to Jane, surely they wouldn’t deny Libby temporary asylum until she could contact the women’s refuge and ask to be taken in and hidden?

Joss drove along the narrow track like a bat out of hell. He didn’t slow down as he went through the village because there was no one out on the street, but he sounded his horn several times. He was aiming for the far end, where the road began to narrow as it started to wind down the hill.

When he got there, he chose his place carefully and used all his driving skills to go into a deliberate skid, fishtailing the car and stopping with it turned sideways. Since there was a drystone wall on either side, he was now completely blocking the road.

‘Get past that if you can!’ he muttered.

He waited as the two cars pursuing him stopped and Pulford began to sound his horn, hammering it again and again.

The official, who was behind Pulford, came up to Joss’s car and banged on the window, asking him to move his car. But he shook his head. He was waiting, giving Libby time to get away.

People had come running out of the houses, and to Joss’s relief, Pete ran out of the shop and along to the front car. He stopped dead at the realisation that it was Joss’s doing.

Only when his friend was standing there did Joss unlock the car door and get out, locking it again and slipping his keys into his inner pocket.

‘What’s up?’ Pete asked.

‘I’m trying to stop that wife beater from catching Libby and hitting her again.’

Pete turned to glare at Pulford. ‘Ah. Allie told me about her friend’s problems. So that’s him, is it? I want to see this.’ He leaned against the car, folding his arms, and they both stood there calmly amid a babel of voices.

Pulford came right up to Joss and yelled, ‘Get that damned car out of the way!’

‘You’re blocking a public highway,’ the official said.

When Joss merely smiled and made no attempt to move, Pulford kicked the car. ‘Move it, damn you!’ He kicked the car again, denting it.

‘Pete, will you bear witness that this man, whose name is Steven Pulford, has just damaged my car on purpose?’

‘I certainly will. What’s up with the fellow? Has he run mad?’

‘I think he’s been mad for a long time.’

Joss tensed, ready to duck, as Pulford bunched up a fist. ‘If you hit me, you’ll be had up for assault as well as the damage.’

‘Now, now, gentlemen, we don’t want any trouble,’ the official bleated, edging away from Pulford.

For a moment or two there was a standoff, then Pulford breathed deeply and dropped his fist.

‘That’s right,’ Joss taunted. ‘I didn’t think you’d hit someone your own size. You usually save your punches for your wife, or you kick little boys like your son. When she ran away, you must have missed having them around to use as punch bags.’

The official frowned at him. ‘Who exactly are you and why are you doing this?’

‘My name’s Joss Atherton. I’m an ex detective inspector.’ He pulled an ID card from his wallet and held it out.

‘Do you have proof of what you’re claiming about this man?’

‘I don’t possess any proof myself, but I’ve seen it. I can take you to the wife’s lawyer who has photos and also testimony from a neighbour, who heard Pulford beating his wife and son just before they left … and saw the results. The neighbour took some photos as well.’

‘He’s lying!’ Pulford yelled. ‘And you’re letting him delay you. Do something!’

Joss ignored him. ‘When the lawyer saw the injuries, he arranged for the Domestic Abuse Unit in town to take another set of photos and hear her story. After that Mr Greaves asked me to keep an eye on her.’

‘Indeed.’ The man turned to Pulford, not speaking nearly as politely now. ‘I must ask you to come back with us while we look into these claims. It goes without saying that I cannot help you gain access to your wife if what Mr Atherton says is true.’

‘Well, it isn’t true. It’s a pack of lies. She bangs her head on things to try to incriminate me and injures the boy for the same reason.’

Joss laughed. ‘Is that the best you can do? Your neighbour heard the quarrel. Ach, you’re a pitiful excuse for a man. A real coward.’

Pulford lashed out at him suddenly with a clenched fist, but Joss was too experienced to be taken by surprise. People like this one didn’t realise how much their eye movements gave away before they took action.

He ducked the punch and knocked his opponent down, stepping back immediately. ‘I’ll defend myself if I have to, but I do not wish to get into a fight.’

Pete and another man from the village helped Pulford up and kept hold of him.

‘Could someone please call the police?’ the official asked quietly. ‘I need to take Mr Pulford to see the magistrate again, and if you wish to press charges against him, Mr Atherton, you’d better come with us.’

‘Happy to.’

Pulford didn’t struggle. His lips had lost their colour from being pressed tightly together and his expression was now stony. He looked across at Joss and said slowly and sharply, ‘I’ll find Libby. However long it takes, I’ll find her. She’s
my
wife and Ned is
my
son. And if you’ve been in her bed, you’ll regret it.’

The official’s frown grew more pronounced.

Joss said quietly, ‘You have a low opinion of your wife if you think she’d hop into bed with a near stranger.’

Des saw a car whiz through the village, noted that it contained a woman and small child, then realised belatedly that it was her – Libby. He was about to start his motor when he heard another car approaching. No, several cars.

What the hell was going on?

He watched the encounter with great enjoyment. He’d have intervened if it had been necessary, but the tall guy was doing a great job of blocking the departure of Pulford and whoever it was from the village.

Des settled back to enjoy it, jeering when Pulford kicked the car, laughing when he attacked the tall guy, who dodged beautifully and knocked his attacker down with one good punch.

There was a standoff and they were clearly waiting for something. The police, maybe. Someone must have called them by now.

Des went into the shop again and bought a sandwich, chatting to the shopkeeper, who had been standing in the doorway watching the exciting goings-on. He described the car with the woman and child, and she said that it was her friend Libby.

When a police siren sounded, they both went to the door again to watch.

It didn’t seem as if Libby King needed another protector, Des decided. The one she had was doing a great job of keeping her husband away from her.

But someone had to keep an eye on Pulford.

The two men from the village stayed next to Pulford until a police car drove up the hill.

Only then did Joss move his vehicle out of the way and greet the dark-skinned officer by name. ‘Hello, Lance. Long time no see.’

‘What’s been going on, sir?’

‘I’m not your boss any longer. I’ve retired from the force. Could we move away for a minute?’

When they were several paces away from the others, he said quietly, ‘I’ve been doing a bit of protection work, keeping an eye out for that fellow. He’d beaten his wife and their four-year-old, and they’d fled. He followed them. Now he’s claiming
she
is the danger and has got a court order for her to bring the boy in.’

‘Is there any proof either way?’

‘Definite proof that he thumped her from a neighbour and photos of the results at the Abuse Centre. What’s more, I’ve spent a few days watching over her and she seems a very devoted and loving mother, to me.’

‘They don’t often fool you, Mr Atherton.’

‘No. I hope not.’

Lance scanned the group. ‘Where is she now?’

‘I don’t know. I blocked the road to let her and the boy get away.’

‘Was that wise?’

Joss shrugged. ‘Who can tell? Gut instinct says she’s telling the truth and I was afraid Pulford might con a magistrate into letting him take the boy. When I wouldn’t move my car, he kicked it and tried to punch me. I have witnesses to that, so I’d like him charged with the damage. That’ll put his violent nature on record nicely.’

Lance smiled. ‘It’d take a more skilled fighter than him to get the better of you in a one-to-one fight. We’ve missed you, sir. Glad to see you looking so well again.’

‘Thank you. Give everyone my best. Now, you’d better question the others about this incident.’ He was itching to leave and find out whether Libby had made it to the antiques centre. He glanced at his watch. No, there hadn’t been time for them to get there yet.

Did she have his mobile phone number? She didn’t have a mobile of her own yet. They should have remedied that. Well, he had the number of the antiques centre. He could phone to check she’d got there.

But he couldn’t leave till he’d seen the magistrate and brought Mr Greaves in to protect Libby’s interests.

She’d be all right, though. He was sure Emily and Chad wouldn’t turn her away.

Only … what if she’d gone somewhere else? No, surely she wouldn’t do that!

Libby glanced in the rear-view mirror at regular intervals, but didn’t see any car that she recognised, or notice any car staying behind her for more than a minute or two. She lost her way twice but eventually found the road up to the moors, feeling like sobbing in sheer relief as the car started to climb.

Ned was getting fidgety so she said brightly, ‘Nearly there now.’

‘Where’s Boo-Bear?’

Oh, heavens, she’d forgotten his bear. He’d be lost without it.

‘I want my Boo-Bear.’

‘He’s looking after our house for us. He’ll be waiting there when we go back.’

Ned began to cry. ‘Want Boo-Bear now! Want my bear.’

She didn’t reply. There was nothing she could tell him that would console him. Everything was so strange to him, and he’d clung to his bear even more than usual since they ran away.

The antiques centre came into sight just then, thank goodness. ‘We’re here, darling.’

But he was scowling as she unbuckled him, his lower lip jutting out ominously.

She went up the steps into the centre and hesitated just inside the doorway, keeping tight hold of Ned’s hand. There didn’t seem to be anyone around.

She walked forward to the café area and to her relief found someone there. ‘I need to see Chad or Emily. It’s really urgent.’

‘They’re down in London, I’m afraid.’

Libby stared at her in horror. She hadn’t even considered this, had no contingency plans at all.

‘Is something wrong?’

She looked at the woman. ‘Do you … work here?’

‘I have the café concession. I’m a friend of Emily’s from way back.’

Libby tried to think what to do and suddenly tears began rolling down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop crying.

A man came into the café and hesitated.

‘Oliver, can you take over for a while? I’m going to take …’ She broke off to say, ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your name, but I’m sure I’ve seen you before. I’m Rachel by the way.’

‘We – a friend and I – brought some goods here to sell a few days ago.’

‘Is your business to do with that?’