Driving Force - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
'DidanyoneelseseeJogger'srabbit?'
Isimplycan'tremember.'Itwasclearfromherexpressionthatshecouldn'tseeanyimportanceiniteither.
'Oh,well.Thanksanyway,'Isaid.
Shesmiledwithoutguileandturnedbacktoherwork.
Nuns,Ithought.Rabbits.Nunsandmonks,nunsandsisters...nunsandhabits.
Jogger'swords.'Takeabutcher'satthemnuns.TherewasadeadoneinthepitlastAugust-anditwascrawling.'
TheonlyrabbitsthatIcouldthinkofthathemightmeanweretherabbitsbelongingtotheWatermeadchildren,butevenifoneofthoserabbitshadsomehowescapedandgotasfarastheinspectionpit,itwouldhardlyhavebeencrawlingwithmaggotsunless,ofcourse,ithadbeentheredeadfordayswhenJoggerfoundit.Itdidn'tseemtobeofanyimportance...b.u.t.toJoggerithadseemedimportantenoughforhimtotellmeabout.i.t-inhisownunintelligibleway-sevenmonthsaftertheevent.
Ilookedatmywatch.Approachingnineo'clock.WhatwasIsupposedtobedoingatnineo'clock?Thesleep-filleda.s.signationwithMarigoldEnglishswamtothesurface.
ItoldIsobelwhereIwasgoingandtoreachmebymobilephoneforawhileifsheneededme,anddrovetoMarigold'syard.
ShewasoutsideinherwoollyhatandcamehurryingtowardsmewhenIappeared,carryingwithherabowlofhorsenuts.
'Don'tgetout,'shecommanded.'DrivemetolookatPeterman.'
AccordinglyIfollowedherdirections,whichinvolvedb.u.mpingdownagra.s.sytracktoadistantpaddockbehindherhouse.Thepaddockslopeddowntoabrookandwasedgedwithtallwillowtreesthatwouldgivegreatshadeforoldhorseswhentheleavescameout.
Peterman,however,wasupnearthegateandlookedthoroughlymiserable.HeputhisnosedowntoMarigold'sofferedhorsenutsandthenmovedhisheadawayasifoffended.
'See?'shesaid.'Hewon'teat.'
'Whatarethenuts?'Iasked.
Shementionedastandardbrandmuchusedandwellrespected.'Allhorseslikethem,theyneverfail.'
IlookedatPeterman,puzzled.'What'sthematterwithhim,then?'
Marigoldhesitated.'IphonedmyoldvetonSalisburyPlaintoaskhim,buthesaidjusttogivetheoldchaptimetosettlein.ThenIcamedownhereagainyesterdayevening,andyouknowwhatanicesunnyeveningitwas?Thesunwa.s.s.h.i.+ninglowandyellowontheoldhorse,andyoucouldseethem.'
'Seewhat?'
'Ticks.'
Istaredather.
'Tickbites,'shesaid.'Ithinkthat'swhat'swrongwithhim.IphonedJohnTigwoodnothalfanhouragototellhimtodosomethingabout.i.tandhesaiditwasrubbishandimpossible,andanywayyou,Freddie,hadgotthelocalvetroundonTuesdaywhenthehorsesgottoPixhill,andyou'dinsistedonanexamination,andthevethadpa.s.sedthehorsesfullyfitandhadsignedadoc.u.menttothateffectwhichhewouldshowmeifIliked,andreally,Ididn'tlikehistonemuchandInearlytoldhimtofetchthehorsebackagain,b.u.t.thenI'dalreadyaskedyoutocomeandlook,andknowingthatyouwantedthisoldthingwelllookedafter...well,Idecidedtowaituntilyoucameandtoaskyouwhatyouthought.'Shestopped,runningoutofbreath.'Whatdoyouthink?'
'Um...whereweretheticks?'
'Onhisneck.'
IpeeredatPeterman'sneck,butcouldseeonlyhisbaycoat,stillthickforthewinter.Comewarmerweatherhewouldshedalotofit,revealingtheshortcoolercoatofsummer.
'Whatweretheylike?'IaskedMarigold.
'Tinybrownthings.Thesamecolouras.h.i.+scoat.Iwouldneverhaveseenthemexceptforthesun,andbecauseoneofthemmoved.'
'Howmany?'
'Idon'tknow...maybesevenoreight.Icouldn'tseethemveryclearly.'
'ButMarigold...'
'YouthinkI'mpotty?Whataboutthebees?'
'Er...'
Shesaidimpatiently,'Bees,Freddie.Bees.Varroajacobonsi.'
'Startatthebeginning,'Ibegged.
'Theyaremites,'shesaid.'Theyliveonbees.Theydon'tkillthem,theyjustsucktheirblooduntilthebeescan'tfly.'
'Ididn'tknowbeeshadblood.'
Shegavemeawitheringlook.'Mybrotherpanicsaboutvarroa,'shesaid.'He'safruitfarmerandhalfhistreesdon'tbearfruitbecausethebeesaretooweaktopollinate.'
'Oh.Yes,Isee.'
'Sohesmokesapipeatthem.'
'ForG.o.d'ssake...'
'Pipetobaccosmokeisabouttheonlythingthatknocksoutvarroamites.Ifyoublowpipetobaccosmokeintoabeehiveallthemitesfalldowndead.'
'Um,'Isaid.'It'sfascinating,butwhathasitgottodowithPeterman?'
'Don'tbesoslow,'shecommanded.'Tickscarryillnesses,don'tthey?Ican'trisktheticksonPetermanhoppingontomytwo-year-olds,nowcanI?'
'No,'Isaidslowly,'youcan't.'
'SoregardlessofwhatJohnTigwoodsays,I'mnotgoingtokeepthisoldhorsehere.I'mverysorry,Freddie,butyou'llhavetofindhimanotherhome.'
'Yes,'Isaid.'Iwill.'
'When?'
Ithoughtofherstar-studdedstableandofmyownstrongdesiretotransportthemforevertothewinners'enclosures.
Isaid,I'llwalkhimdowntomyhouse.There'sapatchofgardenhecanstayintemporarily.ThenI'llwalkbackformycar.Wouldthatdo?'
Shenoddedwithapproval.'You'reagoodlad,Freddie.'
'I'msorrytohavegivenyouthistrouble.'
'Ijusthopeyouunderstand.'
Ia.s.suredherIdid.Idrovebackalongthegra.s.sytracktoherstableyard,whereshelentmealeading-reinforPetermanandthenledmebythearmtopeeroverahalf-dooratherabsoluteprideandjoy,thethree-year-oldcoltthat,ifallwentwell,wouldbecontestingthe2,000GuineasandtheDerbyagainstMichaelWatermead'ssensation,IrkabAlhawa.Inher,asinMichael,thefledglingexcitements.h.i.+mmeredintheeyes,thewildhopegrowing.
'Youdosee,'shereiterated,'aboutPeterman.'
'Ofcourse,'Isaid.Ikissedhercheek.Shenodded.IcouldslaughterJohnTigwood,Ithought,forputtingmeinsuchanawkwardposition,eventhough,Ithoughtmorefairly,itwasn'tactuallyhisfault,asIhadmyselfaskedMarigoldtotakespecificallyPeterman.
SighingatmyfollyIreturnedtothepaddock,putontheleading-reinandledmyoldfriendoutofhisidyllicpastureandalongtheroadtotheverymuchsmallerpatchofs.h.a.ggylawninthewalledgardenbehindmyhouse.
'Don'teattheb.l.o.o.d.ydaffodils,'Itoldhim.
Helookedatmebalefully.AsItookofftheleading-reintowalkaway,Inoticedhewasn'teveninterestedinthegra.s.s.
IcollectedmyFourtrakfromMarigold'syardandwenthomeagain.PetermanstoodmoreorlesswhereI'dlefthim,lookingmiserable,thedaffodilsintact.Ifithadn'tbeenforthefallacyofendowinganimalswithhumanfeelings,I'dhavesaidtheoldhorsewasdepressed.Igavehimabucketofwater,buthedidn'tdrink.
Variousthoughtshadbeenpoppingintomymind,almostasifacoupleofsleepingcylindershadresumedfiring.Isatdownatthecomputerinmybatteredroomandlookeduptheinstructionmanualsagainforarenewedexpeditionthroughtheoldinformationonthehealthydisks.
Insurveyingthedrivers'journeysIhadnot,I'dremembered,pulledoutJogger'sown.EvenwhenIdid,Ilearnedlittle,ashe'ddrivenveryseldom;barelyhalfadozentimesthepreviousyearandnearlyallonBankHolidayMondays,thedayswhenwithalltheholidayracemeetingscountrywide,wewerealwayssc.r.a.pingthebarrelforchauffeurs.
Irubbedmynose,thoughtabitmore,andbegantobringtothescreenthehorseboxesthemselves,onebyone,identifyingthembyregistrationnumber.
Thecolumnsonthescreencameuplookingcompletelydifferent:thesameinformationasbeforebutilluminatedfromtheside,likeMarigold'sviewofotherwiseinvisibleticks.
Identifiedbyregistrationnumber,eachbox's.h.i.+storynowgavemedates,journeys,purposeofjourney,drivers,enginehourslogged,odometerreadings,maintenanceschedules,repairs,licensing,roadworthycertificates,unladenweights,fuelcapacity,fuelactuallyuseddaybyday.
Aftersometaxingcerebration,muchconsultationwiththemanualsandafewfalsestarts,IcameupnextwithdetailsofallmaintenanceworkperformedbyJoggerthepreviousAugust.ThistimeI'dsortedtheworkbychronology,andhadprovidedmyselfmoresimplywiththedate,thehorseboxregistrationnumberandtheworkdone.
DaybysummerdayIlookedbackthroughthatonemonthinJogger'slife,andthereIfoundher,thedeadnun.
Augustloth.TheregistrationnumberofthehorseboxregularlydrivenbyPhil.Oilchangeovertheinspectionpit.Tanksofairfortheairbrakesdrained.Airbrakecompressorchecked.Allgreasenipplesfilled.Attheend,anoteenteredonthedaybyIsobelandforgotten:'Joggersaysadeadrabbitfelloutofthehorseboxintothepit.Crawlingwithticks,hesaid.Disposedofinskip.'
Isatlookingvaguelyintos.p.a.ce.
AfterawhileIwentbacktothebeginningandcalledPhil'srecordstothescreen,tofindoutwherehe'dbeenonAugust10thor9thor8th.
Phil,myfaithfulaidtoldme,hadnotbeendrivingthatparticularhorseboxonanyofthosedays.He'dbeendrivinganotherbox,anolderone,whichIhad,Iremembered,subsequentlysold.
Backtothedrawingboard:backtoregistrationnumbers,thesidewaysillumination.
OnAugust7ththehorseboxPhilnowadaysdrovehadgonetoFrancewithtworunners...o...b..njyUsher.Theyhadrunonthe8thatCagnes-sur-Mer,downontheMediterranean,andreturnedtoPixhillonthe9th.
Thathorsebox,onthatjourney,hadbeendrivenbyLewis.
Lewishadactuallydriventhatparticularboxmostofthepreviousyear,asIknewperfectlywellonceI'dthoughtabout.i.t.I'dtransferredLewistothesparklingnewsuper-sixI'dboughtintheautumntoreplacetheoldone;transferredhimsothattheUsherandWatermeadhorsesshouldgoinmybeststyletotheirdestinies.LewishaddrivenoneofMichael'shorsestoDoncasterinSeptemberinthenewsuper-sixtowinthelastCla.s.sicraceoftheyear,theStLeger.
Ataboutten-fifteenItelephonedEdinburgh.
'Quipphere,'apleasantvoicesaid.English,notaScot.
'Um...excusemephoningyou,'Isaid,'butdoyouhappentoknowwhereIcouldfindmysister,Lizzie?'
Afterthebriefestofpauseshesaid,'Whichareyou,RobinorFreddie?'
'Freddie.'
'Holdon.'
Iheld,andheardhisvoiceyelling,'Liz,yourbrotherFred...'andthenshewas,moderatelystartled,saying,'Isityourhead?'
'What?No.Except.i.t'sbeenslowandstupid.Look,um...Lizzie,doyouknowanyonewhoknowsanythingaboutticks?'
'Ticks?'
'Yeah.Littlebiters.''ForG.o.d'ssake...'ShetoldProfessorQuippwhatIwantedandhecamebackontheline.
'Whatsortofticks?'heasked.
'That'swhatIwanttofindout.Thesortthatliveonhorsesand...er...rabbits.'
'Doyouhaveanyspecimens?'
'I'vegotahorseinthegardenwhichprobablyha.s.some.'
AfterasilenceLizziecameback.'I'vetriedtoexplaintoQuippthatyou'reconcussed.'
'Farfromit,atlast.'
'Whathorseinthegarden?'
Peterman.OneofthegeriatricsfromlastTuesday.Seriously,Lizzie,askyourprofessorhowIgetinformationaboutticks.Therearetoomanymulti-millionanimalsinPixhillformessingaboutiftickscouldmakethemill.'
'YeG.o.ds.
Ilistenedtothreefullminutesofsilence,thenProfessorQuippsaid,'Areyoustillthere?'
'Yes.'
'I'veafriendwho'satickexpert.Hesayscanyoubringhimsomespecimens?'
'Doyoumean...putthehorseinahorseboxanddriveittoEdinburgh?'
'That'soneway,Isuppose.'
'Thehorseisterriblyoldandshaky.Lizzieknows,shesawhim.Hemightnotlastthejourney.'
'I'llphoneyouback,'hesaid.
