Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
That evening, the chainsaws fell silent. Nor did they start up again the next morning. Had Rosemary had a word? Kate wondered. Or – more likely – had the workmen simply finished whatever it was they were doing?
The next day was a Saturday. First thing after breakfast, Matt went and nailed shut the gate between The Old Tennis Court and Trade Cottage.
‘That should keep her out,’ he said with some satisfaction, when he came back inside.
Kate couldn’t help feeling sad. For a short time, that gate had seemed such a symbol of her and Rosemary’s friendship – the easy, informal popping back and forth between the two houses.
There was still a part of her that didn’t want to escalate things, even as another part of her acknowledged that it was too late: Paul and Rosemary and their allies were all in, and would do whatever it took to get her and Matt out.
She looked around her, at the interior of Trade Cottage. God, I love you so much, she thought wistfully. You are absolutely worth fighting for.
Another chainsaw started up in the woods. It sounded different from the previous ones – higher pitched, more whiney. Moments later, another, also high in pitch, joined it. And then another, and another . . .
‘What the—?’ Matt said, outraged. He pointed. ‘Are those what I think they are?’
She followed his gaze. They weren’t chainsaws at all, she realised.
Down in the wood, behind the KEEP OUT signs, a figure on a tiny moped was skidding and sliding at high speed through the trees.
It looked like a teenager, wearing a crash helmet and tight-fitting leathers.
Behind it, two more bikes were battling it out for second place.