Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Harry was drunk, tired, stressed, confused, and worst of all, still dressed as King Arthur. He’d had weirder evenings he was sure, he just couldn’t think of one.
‘Why’ve you never mentioned this before?’ he asked, sitting up beside Dave as they bounced along the narrow, winding road from the Tan Hill Inn towards Reeth, in the minibus they’d hired.
‘You never asked.’
‘At what point would I?’
‘Exactly.’
Well, that answer made no sense, Harry thought.
‘So, you’ve an old school friend, this Smithy you were talking to, who’s on the training staff at Catterick Garrison?’
‘I have. I know a few others there, too. Smithy’s the one for tonight, though, I think. Him and his mates, they’ll be right up for this, that’s for sure.’
Dave swung the minibus round a corner as everyone started another raucous chorus of Knights of the Round Table from Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.
‘Back to what it is you’ve asked him to do,’ Harry said, trying to get his head around what was going on, fully aware that he was very much not in control of a situation he really needed to be. ‘We can’t go getting people in danger, Dave. You know that.’
Dave laughed.
‘Danger? Well, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Not for Smithy and his pals, anyway.’
‘Can’t say that makes me feel any better about any of this,’ Harry muttered.
‘They’re just going to set up a road block, that’s all,’ Dave explained. ‘All military, like. It’ll be very convincing.’
‘A military road block?’
This was going from bad to worse, thought Harry. If anyone found out that a bunch of soldiers were now volunteering to get involved with whatever the hell this was, then...
‘...and a Pinzgauer, that should just about do it, don’t you think?’
‘What was that?’ Harry asked, having zoned out for a moment.
‘The road block,’ said Dave. ‘It’ll be a couple of old Defenders I’m guessing, and one of those Pinzgauer things. Always fancied one of those myself, especially the six-wheeled version.’
Harry wasn’t at all surprised by that last comment, coming as it was from a man who owned a snowmobile, and had kept that to himself, too, until it had been very much needed last Christmas.
He was despairing now, though, feeling like events were running away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
He then imagined what Detective Superintendent Alice Firbank would say, if she found out that the military had volunteered to head off a kidnapping while King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table rode to the rescue in a hired minibus.
He decided it was best to not dwell on that quite yet.
‘You have to stop this, Dave,’ he said, then he turned round to speak to everyone in the back of the minibus. ‘Please, right now. All of us. Dave can take me. I’ll sort this out. The rest of you? It’s a big no.’
The minibus kept rolling on. Harry thought he might never get drunk again.
He checked his phone, saw the location marker flashing back at him.
Then his crown slipped from his head over his eyes, and he had to wonder how and why he was still wearing it.
He ripped it off, threw it over his shoulder.
Then a hand appeared at the side of his head, holding it.
‘You’ll need this,’ said Jadyn. ‘Can’t be a king without it, can you?’
Harry took the crown, somewhat begrudgingly.
‘Needs to go on your head, Harry,’ called Ethan from somewhere behind Jadyn.
‘Where are they now?’ Matt asked.
‘Still on that same road,’ said Harry.
Dave’s phone buzzed on the dashboard.
‘Grab that, it’s probably Smithy,’ he said, and told Harry the code to unlock it. ‘Check the messages.’
Harry really didn’t want to, but did anyway.
‘What does he say?’ Dave asked.
Harry read the message out loud, his heart sinking further and further with each word.
‘Headlights spotted. Invited a few friends to join in the fun. Won’t scare them too much, I promise.’ Then he added, with his eyes firmly on Dave, ‘Bloody hell, who exactly is Smithy?’
Dave said nothing.
Harry felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned to see Matt staring at him.
‘We all heard what Gordy said, Harry. No harm will come to them. He wants you to follow him, so that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?’
‘A road block though, Matt ...’
Matt went to answer, but Harry held up a hand to shush him before he had a chance to.
‘They’ve stopped.’ Harry held his phone up for Matt to see. ‘Not moving. Where are they?’
Matt leaned in.
‘They’re not at the ranges yet. About a mile to go, give or take. Any idea why?’
‘None. You?’
Matt said nothing. All kinds of thoughts barged their way into Harry’s mind, none of them welcome. He managed to shut most of them out, but still a few squeezed their way in.
‘Anything from Smithy?’ Dave asked.
Harry checked Dave’s phone.
‘Nothing. Matt, how far are we from where they’ve stopped?’
‘Just a few minutes, and we’ll be there.’
‘Then, when we do get there, we approach nice and easy,’ Harry said, speaking now to everyone in the minibus.
‘What we don’t do is race in, handbrake turn, bomb-burst from the minibus, and go in, swords swinging, yelling, Protect the King!
Is that clear?’ Harry noticed a look of disappointment cross Jim’s face in the back of the bus.
‘Gordy mentioned an airsoft pistol, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not carrying something considerably more serious. ’
‘Then what do you want us to do?’ Ben asked. ‘We can’t just do nothing, can we?’
‘I’ll go in first,’ Harry explained. ‘Dave will pull to a stop about fifty metres from where they are. I will then walk in on my own and see what’s what. No arguing from any of you either, before you even think about it.’
‘Lights,’ said Dave.
Harry spun round to look through the windscreen. Ahead, he saw the lights Dave had mentioned, glinting in the dark like stars looking for the way home. Dave started to slow the minibus down, then brought them to a dead stop.
Harry opened his door and stepped out into the cold, then heard the side door of the minibus open as well. He turned to see Ben now standing in front of him.
‘No, Ben,’ he said, and jabbed a finger at the minibus. ‘Get back in.’
‘Piss off, Harry,’ Ben said, and with that, he marched passed his older brother.
Harry dashed after him.
‘Ben, look, we don’t know what we’re dealing with...’
Ben stopped dead, turned on his heels.
‘Whatever it is, Harry, I don’t care, but I do care that Liz is now involved, and that you kept whatever this is a secret from me.’
‘I didn’t think it would come to this. I had no idea anyone else would be involved, that Liz and Grace—’
Ben shook his head.
‘No, that’s not it at all, is it? You just thought you could handle it all by yourself, like you always do. The one-man army that is my big brother, Harry!’
Harry had never heard Ben speak like this, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
‘This isn’t your world, Ben, it’s mine. You don’t understand.’
‘I do, Harry! I understand it better than anyone! I was in prison, remember? I’ve seen stuff you wouldn’t believe! You’ve got to stop trying to protect me, to protect everyone! It’s not all about you!’
That comment stung.
‘About me? I’ve spent my life trying to protect you. I know I’ve not done a very good job, I really do, but I’ve always been looking out for you! How the hell is any of this about me, Ben? How?’
When Ben spoke next, his voice had suddenly lost all its anger. There was a tenderness to it that Harry wasn’t prepared for, and it hurt to hear it.
‘Because this is how you are. I’m not saying it’s selfish, or that you’re doing what you do to just get off on it, but you need to stop, Harry, before something goes wrong.
For you, for Grace, even, never mind anyone else.
’ Harry tried to get a word in, but Ben wasn’t having any of it.
‘You need to realise that the best thing about being where we now are, this new life we have? It’s the people, Harry.
All of them. You’re not in the Paras anymore.
You’re not trapped in Bristol. And Dad’s dead!
You’re not a one-man police force, tasked with keeping an eye on everyone around you for the rest of your life.
You’re my brother, you’re a husband, you’re a friend.
’ Ben looked over to the minibus. Harry did the same, saw faces staring out at them, wide-eyed.
‘Everyone in that minibus,’ Ben continued, ‘all the friends we’ve both made across the Dales, they love you as much as you love them, not that you’d ever say that, I know, but that’s the way that it is.
So, just accept it, and stop being so bloody minded about everything! Please!’
Harry stood stock still, momentarily in shock.
They were up on the moors, in the middle of the night, having followed someone who had just kidnapped both his and Ben’s wives.
And it was now, of all the times he could’ve picked, that Ben had decided he wanted to give Harry not just a piece of his mind, but the kind of speech he’d go on remembering for the rest of his life.
The words had hit harder than a freight train.
‘Thanks,’ Harry eventually said.
‘What?’
‘I needed that. What you just said. You’re right, Ben. I know it. So, I’m saying thank you.’
‘I am? Really?’
Harry heard the confusion in his brother’s voice.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’
For a second or two, Harry and Ben stood there, just staring at each other.
‘Shall we go see what this is all about, then?’ Ben then said.
‘Wasted journey otherwise,’ said Harry.
Together, they continued on their way, walking down the lane towards the lights, Harry’s ears ringing with Ben’s words. Then Ben stopped dead.
‘Harry, look...’
Harry stared into the dark at the lights they’d been walking towards. Soon, the landscape around them came into focus, as did the two silhouettes standing at the side of the road.
Harry was running, then he was in front of Grace. Next to him, Ben was with Liz.
‘You’re okay? Tell me you’re okay. Please, Grace, you have to be okay!’ Harry was checking her over, looking for injury, for blood. ‘You’re not hurt? You promise me that, right?’
‘Harry?’
Harry stared at Grace.
‘Yes?’
Harry half-wondered from the look in Grace’s eyes if he was about to get a left hook and be sent unconscious to the ground.
‘He told me who he was. Told me everything.’
Harry’s legs lost all feeling and he felt as if he might just drop like a sack of spuds.
‘I don’t know what to say. He... I...’
Harry’s voice broke. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Ben and Liz were hugging each other, both of them crying.
‘Well, I do,’ said Grace.
Harry looked into the eyes of his wife, and saw the only life he ever wanted, then braced himself for the thwack to the head he knew he deserved.
‘You do? What?’ he asked.
Grace leaned in.
‘He’s absolutely not invited to the wedding,’ she whispered.
Harry threw his arms around the woman he loved.