discussed it all with his cousin and considered he might be lonely made John feel guiltier than ever. He didn’t know his son at all.
‘I do have friends but I’d like to know how you feel about the school—whether you’d like to live in a house with me, or board with the boys.’
‘Would your house have a garden? Grandfather promised to buy me a puppy for Christmas.’
Again Albert Gumley intruded on a conversation and John cursed the man. ‘Does he still phone you regularly?’ he asked and David nodded.
‘But he sounds awful sick. Will we be going to see him at Christmas?’
‘I expect so.’ The visiting days had been stipulated and agreed to when Gumley gave up his fight for custody of his grandson. Not that he’d had a chance in hell of winning, but the old man liked to make trouble and in the end John had agreed to take David on regular visits to keep the peace. Anyway, David seemed to like the old man. And in the future there would be the problem of David inheriting the old man’s wealth; when the time came it would be up to John to explain where Gumley’s money had come from.
‘Let’s go to the garage to look at some cars,’ David said suddenly. He’d never thought much of the ones from Kramer’s that John drove. And for the next half-hour they admired the selection that filled the large window space, with prices that would buy a small family home. David pressed his nose against the glass and pointed out details that showed he knew the various makes.
For a while John forgot the problems of the future, of telling Clare that he was about to be a real father. In rare companionship he and David discussed the merits of each model until it came home to him that other fathers had moments like this every day. But they hadn’t abandoned their sons when they were only weeks old …
A few snowflakes drifted down as they walked back towards the bungalow, with the matter of boarding-school apparently settled. And suddenly David pointed. ‘Those men are breaking into your car,’ he said, running ahead of John with his arms pumping like mad.
‘Wait, David!’ John shouted, but his son didn’t pause. He reached the men seconds before John and was brushed roughly aside by a man standing beside the open boot. The other man was looking back at John and at the same time edging towards another car parked in front of his own. John ignored both of them and reached instead for David who had fallen heavily to the pavement. He heard the sound of their running feet and the engine of their car start up, but was more concerned about the trickle of blood on David’s forehead. Only later did it occur to him that they were hardly the types to own a BMW.
‘They’re getting away,’ David said, his body stiff with the desire to get free to chase them again, but John held him tightly against his chest.
‘There’s nothing worth stealing, son,’ he said. His heart was thudding with the shock of how quickly it had all happened and the fact that David could have been seriously hurt instead of suffering only a graze.
Gwen was equally shocked that it could happen in their quiet street and John knew what she meant. A strange car would stand out and the street was a dead end with only a row of bungalows on the edge of the village. There was no passing traffic, no temptation to attract car thieves. She reached up to inspect David’d injury but he drew back and put his free arm around his father’s neck.
‘We could have chased them in your car,’ he murmured, then he leaned back and grinned. ‘But I don’t suppose we’d have caught them.’
‘Neither do I,’ John agreed. ‘Let’s forget it. Kramer’s can afford a new lock for the boot.’ They went in to eat lunch with David still clasping John’s neck tightly, a new experience that John felt might be the turning-point for him and David, but Gwen was keen to phone the police.
‘These things happen,’ John told her. ‘I didn’t get a good look at them or think to note the number of their car.’ That was true, but not the real reason why he was not keen on calling the police.
He was vaguely uneasy that this incident should come so soon after an intruder had entered his office and he wanted to discuss it all with Tollis.
Flurries of snow continued on and off during the afternoon but by four it was getting very dark and John decided it would be wise to leave before the weather got any worse. Gwen was satisfied that the question of David’s future was settled and John could see that already her thoughts were busy with the move to join Greg in Aberdeen.
She and David stood in the doorway to see him off and he lifted a hand in farewell as the snow fell like a curtain between them. It also hid the car that slipped out of a side road to fall in behind him as he left Biggar, driving with a treacherous inch of snow on top of ice under his wheels.
On the radio he got boys with falsetto voices singing carols, but no weather report, so he switched it off and noted the flash of the headlights of a car behind him. It disappeared now and then as the road twisted around the bends but it appeared to be keeping at a safe distance. John let his thoughts drift to Clare Aitken. He should have phoned her over the weekend but what he had to discuss would need to be face to face.
He wondered what Tollis would have to say about the men forcing the boot of his car—in the wrong place at the wrong time? Surely it was too much of a coincidence that he should twice be the victim of small-time crooks in a short space of time? Yet logic told him that it was probably the case.
There was very little traffic on the road and he was making good time despite the appalling conditions. The snow was a blizzard now, driving at his windscreen like a swarm of angry bees, but he should make Edinburgh with plenty of time to bathe and change before nipping up to Clare’s flat.
He was blinded suddenly by the flash of full headlights in his mirror and he inched over to let the driver pass him. Idiot, trying to speed in this weather, but the other car didn’t pass. Instead it sat on his tail for a mile and then again indicated that it was overtaking by drawing alongside. John slowed, glancing angrily across at the other vehicle, but to his surprise the passenger seemed to be making motions that he should pull over. It was difficult to be sure because the car’s side window was caked with snow, so he slowed further. The other car matched the manœuvre and edged closer still, almost forcing John on to the verge.
‘What the hell does he think he’s doing?’ John accelerated and got his nose in front. ‘And I’m staying here, mate,’ he muttered. If the other madman fancied meeting a car coming the other way that was his lookout.
The other car fell back but not far and soon John could see it edging up on him again. The passenger was making urgent signals that he should pull over, pointing at the verge and mouthing words that could not be heard. And suddenly John recognized the anger in the expression, which was the same as on the face of the man who had pushed David out of his way earlier that day.
‘Christ,’ he said. Then he was at a side road, almost went past it, but managed to spin the wheel at the last moment. The car lunged from side to side until he got it back under control and then he was heading down a narrow road to God knows where, but the other car was still on the main road and for the moment he had got away from it. Relief was short-lived as he wondered if it would double back and come after him. What the hell had they wanted from him?
He tried to get his breathing under control while keeping an eye on his mirror at the same time. The verges rose steeply on each side of the road and long spikes of vegetation poked through the snow covering. The fence posts that ran along the top had little caps of snow. The roads’s lower level meant it was more sheltered and the blizzard had eased somewhat but even so it was difficult to
