Outside Chance (16 page)

‘Yes!' Ben breathed, shoving the gear lever forward. With wildly spinning tyres they were away. ‘Will Gyorgy be all right?' he asked anxiously as they sped down the road.

‘Sure. No worry,' Nico declared airily.

It only took a matter of seconds to reach the slip-road that carried traffic on to the dual carriageway, but the loose horses were nowhere to be seen.

‘What now?' Nico asked, peering out in all directions.

‘We can only go this way, and hope,' Ben replied, accelerating hard. Baz's dilapidated car rattled and shook as the revs mounted.

They saw the lights first. A mess of rear lights, brake lights and hazard lights gathered up ahead.

‘Shit!' With a sinking heart, Ben drove on, slowing up as he reached the assembled vehicles and adding the borrowed car's hazard lights to the collection.

Nico was out of the car almost before it stopped and running between the others to reach the front. Following him, Ben pushed through the ragged line of watching motorists to the centre of the drama. There he found Nico inspecting the knees of one
horse, on a verge at the side of the road, while a capable-looking woman in tweed held it by means of what looked like a dog lead looped round its neck. Another horse stood nearby, its head drooping and what looked to be a nasty gash on its shoulder. Nobody had caught hold of it yet, but it didn't look as if it was going anywhere in a hurry.

‘Came out of bloody nowhere!' a youngish man in jeans and a sweatshirt was proclaiming to all and sundry. ‘I 'ad no chance. No-o chance! Ran smack into the side of me. And who's gonna pay for that, I wanna know? Looks like a bloody write-off to me and I've only had it a week!'

‘Don't worry, it'll all be taken care of,' Ben told him soothingly, as Nico showed no signs of even having heard the man. ‘The insurance will cover it.'

He hoped to God it would, but this wasn't really the time or place to raise the question with Nico.

‘Did anyone see another horse?' he asked then, raising his voice to address all those standing near. ‘There were three of them.'

There were a number of negative replies but one man had seen it.

‘Took off down there like Old Nick was after it!' he called out, pointing further down the road. ‘Probably gone into the copse.'

‘Thanks. Is that one all right, Nico?' As far as Ben could see, the horse wasn't badly injured.

Nico straightened. ‘I think so.' He moved across to the other horse, which raised its head but offered no further resistance to being caught. ‘This one is worse. Tamás will have to look at it.'

‘I can hear a police car,' someone announced
and, falling silent to listen, several others murmured that they could too. Within moments the sound of the siren was unmistakable, and shortly after that the accompanying blue lights could be seen. The car appeared, racing down the opposite carriageway, braked hard as it approached the hold-up, and bumped on to the central reservation where it came to a stop, disgorging two uniformed officers who instantly took charge of the situation.

All in all, by the time the blockage on the dual carriageway had been sorted out and all the horses rounded up, the best part of two hours had passed. The stock lorry was sent to pick up the two horses caught on the road and the third, which was found grazing on the edge of the nearby copse. Tamás dressed their wounds, stitching the gashed shoulder, and, with the fence mended, they were returned with their companions to the barn area where a watch was mounted.

As far as could be established – given the chaos that had reigned – four people, probably all ALSA supporters, had taken part in the raid. Two of them had got away but Gyorgy had held on to Nico's catch and an unmarked police car had come across Baz trying to thumb a lift and picked him up. Ben would dearly liked to have seen his face when he realised just who he'd caught a ride with.

He did see his face a little later, when the police transferred him to one of the duty cars to take him back to the station. Many of the troupe had already returned to their beds but several, Ben included, had gathered under the canopy of Gyorgy's catering wagon for coffee and hot dogs.
No doubt drawn by the prospect of refreshments, the police had been using the area as a makeshift interview room and, as he got to his feet after making a statement, Ben found himself on a collision course with Baz for the second time that night.

The ALSA man, hands secured firmly behind his back and escorted by a policeman, glared with undisguised loathing for a second or two, then spat at him.

‘Oi! That's enough of that.' The officer hurried Baz away but he twisted round to look over his shoulder.

‘I won't forget this,' he promised and, a little further on, passing Ferenc and Jeta, Ben saw him say something to them too.

Ferenc half-turned to watch him, then his eyes sought out Ben, his expression very thoughtful.

Ben had no problem getting to sleep for what little remained of the night and he slept dreamlessly until past eight, when he awoke to find himself the sole human occupant of the transporter. Mouse was there, curled up at the foot of his bunk. She'd disappeared during the confusion the night before and later, when Ben had called for her, she'd crept out from beneath one of the lorries, shaken herself and followed him to bed.

He got up and dressed, switching on his mobile phone as he did so, and was surprised to find no less than three messages on it. The first was a chatty one from Lisa, telling him that she couldn't stop over with her mum so she'd be back at the cottage that evening after all.

The second was from Logan, saying he'd ring back another time, and the third was Truman, asking why the hell he hadn't answered the previous messages he'd left on his landline.

Feeling that he couldn't really face Truman before breakfast, Ben turned the mobile off again, shaved and went in search of sustenance.

He arrived at the catering wagon about the same time as Jakob, Nico and the others were starting to appear, the difference being that they had already seen to the horses. Most of the troupe members had seen him around by now, and he came in for a share of good-natured ribbing about his late rising.

‘How are the horses, the ones that got out?' Ben asked Tamás.

‘They are good. A day or two and they'll be good as new.'

‘They were lucky.'

‘But I still don't understand. Why did they let them out? It was a stupid thing to do. What did they hope for?'

Ben had tried to explain the liberation group's ideals to some of them the night before, with limited success.

‘They say they are worried for the horses and yet they let them out into the road,' Nico said shaking his head in bewilderment. ‘It makes no sense to me.'

Ben was about to agree with him but Ferenc got in first.

‘Maybe you're talking to the wrong man, Nico. Maybe Ben knows more about last night than he tells us.'

‘What do you mean?' Nico asked. He looked from Ferenc to Ben and back again.

Ferenc switched to his native tongue but Ben broke in on him.

‘No! If you're going to make accusations against me, I've got a right to hear what you say.'

‘He's right.' Jakob spoke up, coming over with a plate of toast and bacon. ‘But be careful what you say, Ferenc, Ben is our guest.'

‘All right. That man last night – the one with the . . . the hair,' Ferenc made a scornful gesture with his hand to illustrate his description. ‘He said he'd met Ben before. He said Ben set us up.'

This time Nico launched briefly into Magyar before remembering and changing to English. ‘You're crazy! How can you trust the word of a man who has just done such a thing?'

‘
Had
you met him before?' Jakob asked Ben. He didn't look particularly perturbed about it.

‘Professionally, yes. I was doing an article. We didn't exactly hit it off.' He didn't feel that relating the circumstances of his last run-in with Baz would help his cause.

‘Ben helped us last night, Ferenc. I think you must be forgetting that.' Jakob took a large bite of his bacon sandwich and then spoke through it. ‘Does anyone else have anything to say about it?'

Apparently nobody had, but Ben wasn't altogether happy.

‘I can defend myself, Jakob. Thank you all the same.'

Jakob shook his head emphatically.

‘But as our guest you shouldn't have to. No, it is finished now. We'll hear no more of it.'

For a moment there was an awkward silence and then Emil and Miklós started to discuss plans for the day and the talk became more general. Slanting a surly look at Ben, Ferenc shrugged his shoulders, picked up his bacon roll and walked away.

‘Emil and I are going to teach Melles a new trick today,' Jakob told Ben after a while. ‘Would you like to watch?'

‘Oh, I'd love to, but I don't think I can,' Ben said with genuine regret. ‘I think I'm going to have to leave you for a day or two.'

‘Not because of Ferenc?'

‘No. I have another job, which I've been neglecting. I've had messages on my phone. My client is getting impatient.'

‘But you will come back to us?' Jakob seemed anxious that he should.

‘Yes, I will. But it may not be until your next stop.'

‘You should come and see us move – it's quite impressive.'

‘I'd like to. Maybe I will.'

‘Hey, Gyorgy! Any breakfast left or are we too late?' A feminine voice called out, and Ben glanced up to see Jeta and Anna coming across the field. It was a crisp, bright morning after the clear night and the two girls wore faded denim jeans, thick jumpers and fleeces. Slim and dark, with long, shiny black hair, they were very easy on the eye, and something of Ben's appreciation must have shown in his face because Jakob said with a wry smile, ‘Good to look at but hell to live with!'

‘Who?' Ben asked, surprised. ‘Jeta? Or Anna?'

‘Women in general, and Romani women in particular. But I guess you'll have to find out for yourself.'

Ben shook his head. ‘Not me. I've got a girlfriend.'

‘Well, don't tell Jeta that. What is the saying? A red rag to the bull. Is your girl pretty?'

‘Yes,
I
think so,' Ben said, and hesitated. She was Lisa; familiar and comfortable. Part of his life. But it was difficult even to picture her with Jeta around. ‘Yes, she is.'

‘You don't sound too sure,' Nico said, laughing. ‘My sister has that effect.' Clicking his tongue at Mouse, he put his hand down to offer her a piece of toast, but after sniffing it politely she turned her head away.

Jeta was there now, weaving her way between the tables with sinuous grace. She gave Ben a provocative glance from under her lashes as she passed, her hip lightly brushing his shoulder.

Was it provocative? Or was that just how he'd read it? He decided that for his own peace of mind he would do much better to move.

Leaving the canteen behind, he took a deep breath and rang Eddie Truman as he walked across the field. He answered after three rings, his impatience evident straight away.

‘Ben! Where the hell are you? I've been trying to reach you.'

‘Calm down, Truman. I'm not one of your stable lads,' Ben reminded him. ‘What's happened?'

‘I can't tell you over the phone. How soon can you get here – ten minutes? Half an hour?'

‘No way. I'm in Sussex – it'll be two hours at the very least. I'm sorry.'

‘What the bloody hell are you doing in Sussex?'

‘Working.'

‘Have you got a lead?' Truman asked eagerly.

Immediately Ben felt sympathy. ‘No, sorry. This is another job. Something I was already working on. Look I'll be with you as soon as I can.'

As he put the phone back in his pocket, Jakob came up.

‘Duka is working well today.'

‘Sorry?' Ben suddenly realised that, while he'd been talking to Truman, he'd stopped by one of the schooling areas, where Ferenc was putting the white Andalusian through his paces. ‘Oh. Yes, he is.'

‘The curse of the mobile telephone,' Jakob mused, correctly interpreting Ben's confusion. ‘You can never be alone. They . . .' he brought his hands together expressively ‘. . . they shrink the world.'

‘Yeah. They have their advantages but they've certainly put paid to a whole heap of excuses. But I'm afraid I really do have to go. What it is to be wanted,' he joked.

‘Yes, you must go. And when you come back, you and I will find a horse that you can ride.'

‘Me?' Ben was jolted. ‘But I don't want to ride, I told you.'

Jakob nodded. ‘Yes, I know what you said, but I don't believe you.'

‘Well, I meant it.' He started to walk away but, undeterred, Jakob fell in beside him.

‘Fear itself isn't weakness, you know,' he said,
after a moment. ‘The weakness is not admitting it. Every time you turn from it, you give it more power over you. You mustn't let it rule your life, Ben.'

‘Has it ever occurred to you that I might be quite happy as I am?'

‘No. I've seen your eyes. The way you watch Nico and the others. Whatever you may tell me, your eyes betray you.'

Ben shook his head. ‘You're wrong.'

‘I'm not!' Jakob caught hold of his arm. ‘Ben, let me help you. Please?'

‘Why do you want to? What does it matter?'

‘Because . . .' the Hungarian paused, rolling his eyes heavenwards. ‘Oh God, this sounds like a bad movie, but you remind me of my son, Stefan.'

Ben shook his arm free and continued walking.

‘You're right. It does sound like a bad movie. So, where is he now?'

‘He died in a car crash, many years ago. He was a jockey, a very good one, but he never had a chance to prove himself.'

‘I'm sorry. But I'm not your son, and I have my own life to live, in whatever way I choose!' Jakob's persistence had unsettled Ben and he felt that bringing up the subject of his son's death was akin to emotional blackmail. ‘Now, I really have to go.'