Читать книгу To See The Light Return - Sophie Galleymore Bird - Страница 3

For almost an hour, nothing passed him but the high summer sun, angling its beams through the laurel but casting little heat in this dark recess of overgrown woodland. Then two women walked by on foot, and ten minutes later a man with a heavily laden donkey, all pedlars headed away from the village’s weekly market, picking their way carefully across deep ruts, crusts of manure and lumps of old asphalt. By then the high humidity had soaked Will’s clothing, his knees were aching, and sharp bramble barbs were digging into his skin even through the tough weave of his trousers. He was shifting position, taking care to keep his head low, when he heard the approach of an engine, hacking and coughing its way up the steep incline. Aches forgotten, he hunched back down and drew a battered notebook and a stubby pencil out of the rucksack by his side.

Finding a blank space at the end of his notes, he peered through a screen of laurel and watched the car, a beat-up old Audi, come around the corner below his hiding place. Will scribbled the model of car in his notebook and squinted at the number plate, struggling to make it out through the mud; he could only note the first three digits. It would be below him any moment, the engine straining as the driver changed gears.

The driver’s face was hidden by smears of mud and bird shit on the windscreen; it was a wonder they could see well enough to steer. Will picked up a handful of dirt and threw it over the edge of the bank so it scattered across the car’s bonnet. The car lurched as the driver reacted, the pale blur behind the glass twitching towards Will's hiding place just long enough to be recognised.

Mayor Spight himself. Will wrote down the name in his careful print. No passengers. The Audi continued its way up the hill, vomiting black smoke out of the rattling exhaust pipe. It stank of burned bacon.

Will relaxed and settled back against a tree stump, preparing to wait and log Spight’s return. A sharp pain on his neck told him a horsefly had found a way through his protective scarf and was feasting on his blood. He slapped at it and the small body fell into his lap. He checked to be sure he had killed it.

A robin alighted nearby and cocked its head, watching him through a black and beady eye. Will threw the small corpse towards it and the robin accepted the offering, snatching it up and flying away. The sun disappeared behind thick grey cloud and rain began to fall, drops finding their way through the dense canopy and splashing on to his head. Will pulled his jacket tight around his skinny frame. It promised to be a long and chilly afternoon.