Nothing But Lies Page 5

  Hana had shed the haunted look she had worn on arrival and began to relax, the family likeness between her and her sister becoming more marked than ever. Even Jahan had become more talkative but remained markedly shy when Daniel addressed him. Daniel supposed that if his main experience of men had been that of living with his abusive father, it was hardly surprising that he viewed all men with a certain amount of trepidation.

  The show was near Barnstaple and the route straightforward. With no major traffic issues they reached the showground a full half hour ahead of their ETA, by which time Daniel felt completely confident in his new role as horse transport driver.

  A steward waved them into position, Daniel gently applied the brakes and the powerful engine finally shuddered into silence.

  ‘Thank you,’ Tamiko said. ‘You drive it very well now.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Daniel stretched his cramped muscles and glanced at the monitor. Two of the horses were still pulling wisps of hay from their nets but Rolo, the youngster, held his head high, ears flicking back and forth as he tried to make out the sounds from beyond the box walls.

  Jahan was fidgeting and when Tamiko announced her intention of getting the lie of the land before unloading any of the horses, Hana said she’d come too, as she thought it would be a good idea to find a toilet for the boy.

  ‘That’s right. You just go. I’ll look after everything here,’ Daniel said, but the girls just laughed and went on their way.

  Jumping down from the cab, he let Taz out, who – being no respecter of other people’s property – immediately lifted a hind leg against the wheel of Natalie’s horsebox.

  ‘For goodness sake! You’ll get me into trouble!’ Daniel exclaimed, but Taz merely ran up to him with flattened ears and a waving tail, pleased with the attention after the boring drive.

  ‘Is that Natalie Redfern’s box? She’s not here is she?’ A voice called from behind Daniel.

  He turned to see a slim and attractive woman of perhaps forty or forty-five, with dark auburn hair and frank, brown eyes. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, with a Puffa jacket to ward off the morning chill. Standing just behind her and to one side was a stocky, fair-haired man of about Daniel’s age, engaged in lighting a cigarette. He had a close-cut beard and the clothes he wore were casual but Daniel didn’t need to check the labels to see that they hadn’t been bought from any budget high-street store.

  ‘No, she’s not,’ Daniel replied. ‘But you’re right, it is her box. Tamiko’s borrowed it for the day.’

  ‘Oh, OK. Yes, I know Tamiko. Sorry, I’m Boo. Boo Travers. And this is my son, Harrison.’

  ‘Hi. Daniel Whelan. I’m a friend of Tami’s. I’m driving the lorry for her. She’s gone to have a look at the ring layout, I think, and I’m hoping she’s bringing some coffee, too.’

  Boo smiled.

  ‘Yes, that’s where we’re going. I might see her. See you later.’

  It was fifteen minutes or so before Tamiko and her sister returned to the lorry park, during which time one of the occupants of the horsebox had started to get restless and was making his feelings known by banging on the side of the lorry. Daniel opened the side door and went in, taking a handful of chopped carrots from a bucket, which he distributed between the three waiting horses. It was the novice, Rolo, who was becoming agitated, the other two apparently inured to the periods of inactivity that were part of every show day.

  ‘Rolo has been complaining,’ he told Tamiko when she reappeared bearing a cardboard tray of Costa coffees and a bag containing muffins.

  ‘He always does. I’m sorry we were so long. I meet someone I know and she asks about Natalie.’

  ‘Someone called Boo?’ Daniel asked. ‘She came over to see me, too.’

  ‘Oh, you see her? Yes, her name is really Belinda, but everyone calls her Boo. I don’t know her very well but Natalie introduces us one day and now she often stops to talk. Actually, I was surprised to see her here. It’s her daughters who usually compete these days but she tells me they are gone to a summer camp.’

  ‘Probably enjoying taking time for herself,’ Daniel suggested, taking the lid off his coffee and having a sip.

  ‘Yes, I think so. From what Natalie has tell me, she has a lot of bad luck in her life.’ Tamiko offered chocolate and fruit muffins from the paper bag. ‘First her husband dies and now her son is very ill.’

  ‘He didn’t look particularly ill.’ Daniel helped himself to a chocolate muffin.

  ‘No, because that is Harrison, who is older. It is the younger one who is sick. Natalie says the doctors don’t think he will get better. It’s leukaemia, I think.’ She struggled with the word. ‘It must be very hard for Boo – for all of them.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s tough, poor woman,’ Daniel agreed. ‘So, when’s your first class? What’s the order of the day?’

  Balancing her coffee and muffin in one hand, Tamiko took a crumpled show schedule from her pocket and shook it out.

  ‘First class is Rolo in ring three, then Samson in ring one. Babs is in that class, too, so it may be a bit tight. Do you mind being my groom for the day? I usually share Inga with Natalie – she’s brilliant. Here, you can look at the ring plan.’

  Once the coffee and muffins were consumed, the business of the day got underway. Hana cleaned the surplus chocolate off Jahan’s face and then led him off to see the show’s attractions, while under Tamiko’s instruction, Daniel helped unload Rolo, hanging on to him for her as she flicked a brush over him, tacked him up and screwed studs into his shoes for grip. The horse fidgeted and threw his head up and down, trying to barge into Daniel and loosen his hold on the bridle. Getting him to stand still long enough to fix the studs was a battle, but at last it was done.

  Tamiko disappeared into the lorry and re-emerged in clean, cream-coloured jodhpurs and a white shirt and stock under a quilted coat. Beneath a navy crash cap, her black hair was confined in a net.

  ‘I’ll take him to warm up and try to get him to settle, then come back for my jacket,’ she said, taking the reins from Daniel. ‘Oh no! I’ve forgotten his martingale.’

  ‘OK. What does it look like? Can I get it?’

  She frowned. ‘I think it easier if I do. Too hard to explain. But it should have been hanging with his bridle, that’s why I worry.’

  Daniel had his work cut out trying to hold on to the tall chestnut gelding, who was becoming increasingly keen to be off, and to that end, started to walk round Daniel in tight circles, throwing his head up and down to try and loosen his hold. It had been said, in the past, that he had a calming influence on horses, but it didn’t seem to be working with this one.

  When Tamiko reappeared it was with empty hands and anxiety writ large.

  ‘I look everywhere but I don’t find it. I don’t know what I should do. I can’t ride him without it because if he puts his head too high, he can’t see where he goes and he almost hits me in the face.’

  ‘Could you borrow one, perhaps?’ Daniel said, unsure if it was a viable suggestion or not. ‘What about that Boo person?’

  Tamiko looked at him.

  ‘I suppose she might. I’ll go and ask. Are you OK there?’

  ‘Fine,’ Daniel replied, leaning into the horse’s shoulder and whisking his foot out of the way an instant before it would have been trampled by the metal stud-wearing Rolo. ‘Just don’t be too long.’

  Thankfully, for the continuing health of Daniel’s feet, Tami returned in a very short time, triumphantly bearing a handful of leather straps and rings, which she proceeded to buckle onto the restless horse with deft fingers, adjusting to fit. She then fastened the strap on her crash cap and Daniel boosted her into the saddle with one hand, whilst restraining Rolo with the other. She was thistledown-light and he found it hard to believe that she had a hope of controlling the big sport horse, but at her nod, he let go of the rein and she was on her own.

  Rolo made a spirited attempt to take off; leaping forward and then crabbing sideways, but Tamiko was ready for him.
With a smile and a thank you for Daniel, she sent the horse on into a trot and was quickly lost to view between the other lorries.

  Left behind, Daniel tidied around the box, checked on the two remaining occupants and then sat on the ramp with Taz, waiting for Tamiko to return. He found himself thinking of his son, Drew, who had recently begun to show a great enthusiasm for all things equine. How he would have enjoyed this day. He wondered if there would be an opportunity to invite him along to one of the future shows and made a mental note to ask Tamiko.

  ‘I’ll keep an eye, if you want to go off anytime,’ a voice said, interrupting his chain of thought. A middle-aged man was standing on the ramp of the next lorry along. ‘I’m going to be here anyway. Got a lorry full of jumping ponies and I’m skivvy to my daughters for the day. Just give me your mobile number in case of emergencies.’

  Daniel thanked him, and when Tamiko reappeared after fifteen minutes or so to get her black jacket and tidy up before competing, with her permission he took advantage of the man’s offer, heading for ring two in Rolo’s wake.

  At the ringside he caught up with Hana and Jahan, and together they watched Tamiko’s opening round. They stood close to a triple bar and the thudding, grunting, leather-creaking power of the horses as they passed was awe-inspiring. Jahan shrank back the first few times it happened but when he began to trust that the animals would stay on their side of the rail, he held his ground and watched with big fascinated eyes, ice cream from the cone in his hand running over his fingers unchecked until his mother noticed.

  When Tamiko and Rolo entered the ring, Daniel was amazed once more that such a slight girl could control a horse of his size. They circled in the centre of the ring, her face a mask of concentration and Rolo looking like a coiled spring, until the bell rang and they could begin.

  The round was impressive. Tamiko kept the horse collected, his stride rounded and neck arched, until three strides before the first jump and then with an explosion of exuberant power, he took off, giving the poles an easy twelve inches of clearance. On landing she checked him again, guiding him towards the next fence, and Daniel could see the part the borrowed martingale played as Rolo attempted to evade her restraining hands. He found himself holding his breath and tensing as they approached each jump, willing them to safely reach the other side, but as the round progressed, Rolo became steadily more eager. At the second last their luck failed. Getting too close, he tipped the pole with his front feet and the chance of a clear was gone.

  Tamiko left the ring to a smattering of sympathetic applause and Daniel found he could breathe again.

  ‘Wow! That make me so tense,’ Hana said. ‘I don’t know how she does it. Did you see Aunty Tami, Jahan?’

  Rejoining Tamiko outside the ring, Daniel expressed his admiration for her performance but she shrugged it off.

  ‘I let him go too fast at the end. He is not easy with uprights. He gets too strong and is not careful.’

  ‘Next time, maybe.’

  She flashed her brilliant smile.

  ‘Yes, there is always a next time.’

  It was a long day, which passed for Daniel in a blur of horseflesh, saddles, bridles, leg protectors, studs, rugs and hurried cups of coffee. By the time all the horses were loaded into the lorry for the return journey, he was feeling mentally drained and pretty physically weary, too.

  ‘Daniel, thank you. You have been amazing,’ Tamiko said as she climbed into the cab and pulled the door shut. Between them sat Hana and the sleepy Jahan, and at the top of the windscreen, three large rosettes were proudly displayed.

  ‘I enjoyed it,’ he said truthfully, starting the engine. ‘I didn’t realise quite what I was letting myself in for when I agreed to drive the lorry, but it was fun.’

  Tamiko instantly looked apologetic.

  ‘I have asked too much. I’m sorry!’

  ‘No, it was fine. As I said, I enjoyed it. Kept me out of mischief. Besides, I could hardly sit there and watch you struggle, could I?’

  ‘Usually there is Inga. I don’t think I realise before, just how much she does. That’s odd,’ she added as they rolled and rocked across the field in the convoy heading for the gate.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Well, that looks like Boo’s box up there,’ she said, pointing towards the front of the queue. ‘But it’s turning right.’

  ‘Where does she live?’ Daniel asked, slowing to let another lorry join the line ahead of him. He glanced towards the road in time to see a huge cream-coloured lorry pull away. There was a jumping horse and a name emblazoned on the side, but it was too far away for him to read it.

  ‘Not far from us; near Bath. Which is a good thing because I forget to give her back the martingale I borrow and will have to drop it in.’

  ‘Perhaps she wants fuel or something,’ Daniel suggested. ‘Or maybe it’s not her box at all, just one that looks like it. Too late to catch her now, anyway.’

  The drive home was uneventful. Jahan slept the whole way and Daniel amused himself by finding tongue twisters that were rendered even more difficult by the girls’ Japanese accents. After struggling with ‘Red Leather, Yellow Leather’ and ‘She Sells Sea Shells’ to the accompaniment of much giggling, they turned the tables by trying to teach him phrases in their own language. Daniel was pleased to see the sisters relaxing in each other’s company.

  After unloading Rolo and Babs, he set off wearily on the last leg of the day’s journeying, to return Samson to his own yard.

  It was a relief to hand over responsibility of the big chestnut to Inga, who appeared from the feed store as he switched off the engine, and he didn’t protest too vehemently when she turned down his offer to clean the lorry before he left.

  ‘I’ll do it tomorrow. I don’t mind. It’s always my job after a show,’ she assured him. ‘Thank you for looking after Sammy.’

  Transferring to the Mercedes, Daniel headed back to the cottage, looking forward to a good meal and a quiet evening in. Taz jumped into the back, turned round several times and collapsed with a deep sigh. It hadn’t been a good day for him; too many people and horses, and not enough running free. With resignation, Daniel reflected that the first part of his quiet evening had better be spent exercising the dog.

  He turned into Tannery Lane, marvelling at how soon a place could become familiar and impart the feeling of coming home, but such thoughts were rudely banished by the sight of a van parked untidily in front of the cottage and a man hammering on the door with his fist.

  FOUR

  The man’s blood was obviously thoroughly up, because his assault on the door didn’t falter following Daniel’s arrival upon the scene. Tall and fairly strongly built, he was battering the painted wood alternately with his fists and feet, shouting all the while.

  Daniel got out of the car, his mind automatically taking in details of the man’s appearance. Loose-fitting jeans and a leather jacket over a pale grey hoody; was this the ‘stalker’ that Tamiko had seen and who he’d pursued at the shopping centre? He couldn’t be sure, he hadn’t got a clear enough view of that man.

  ‘Open the door, bitch, or I’ll break it in!’ the man in the hoody shouted.

  ‘Oi! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Daniel demanded, having to raise his voice quite considerably to make himself heard.

  The man paused in his onslaught just long enough to say over his shoulder, ‘Piss off!’

  ‘Do you want to tell that to the dog?’ Daniel enquired, heading for the rear of the Mercedes, where Taz was already voicing his eagerness to be of assistance. Once out, with Daniel’s hand in his collar, he strained to be at the man, his front feet bouncing with every warning bark.

  The man wasn’t a fool. He stopped kicking the door panel and turned to face Daniel, revealing a dark-eyed, olive-skinned face with several days’ growth of stubble.

  ‘I got every right to be here,’ he said, eyeing the dog with respect. His accent was strongly Midlands. ‘My girlfriend’s in there with my kid. She�
�s stole him from me!’

  ‘Children aren’t possessions,’ Daniel pointed out, quieting Taz. ‘She’s his mother. He needs to be with her.’ In his head he was executing a mental about-turn. This couldn’t be Tamiko’s stalker, his own words had confirmed his identity as Samir Jafari, the abusive ex-partner of Tamiko’s sister, Hana, but he could still be the watcher at the shopping mall.

  ‘He’s my son! He belongs with me and I’m not leaving without him!’ Now Taz was quiet, he recovered some of his confidence.

  ‘I think you’ll find you are.’

  ‘Piss off! Who are you, anyway? It’s none of your fucking business!’ Jafari’s voice rose and he spat the words viciously. Taz started to bark again.

  Taking his phone from his pocket, Daniel said loudly, ‘I’m calling the police.’

  ‘Call the bloody cops, then. I don’t care. I’ve as much right to the boy as she has.’ He turned and started to hammer on the door again. ‘C’mon, bitch! Open the fucking door!’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel caught sight of someone peering round the front door in the next house along. He didn’t mind an audience. An independent witness might be valuable if things turned nasty. He put his phone away, certain that Tamiko’s first action would have been to call Jo-Ji.

  Finding that he was making no impact on the door, Jafari swore again and cast about for a weapon. He found, beside the steps, a heavy iron boot-scraper and with this in his hands immediately began to make serious dents in the wooden panels.

  Daniel decided that the time for talking was over.

  ‘Put that down right now or I’ll send the dog!’ he shouted and Taz, recognising his old cue, became frenzied with excitement.

  Jafari ignored him, perhaps rendered reckless by his own rage, or perhaps thinking it an empty threat.

  Daniel repeated his warning to no avail and then, with a low-voiced, ‘Get him!’ he loosed Taz. Suddenly silent, the dog crossed the space to his target in a flash and fastened his jaws unerringly around the right sleeve of Jafari’s leather jacket, pulling him off balance and causing him to drop the boot-scraper with a clang on the concrete step.