The house was just the right size, big enough to hold all of us comfortably and for the kids to rampage around in, and small enough to pick up easily. There was even a genuine cottage herb garden and surrounding wildflower meadows; the valley itself was one of those smooth parabolic valleys scooped out by a glacier during the Ice Age, with rounded valley bottom, and wide, gently sloping sides all the way up to a clear horizon, a mile or so wide and several miles longer along its main axis, ample space for the kids to play, explore, and roam around in, and, much more to my liking, no nearby tree-line, just flat, open meadow-land off into the distance, clear visibility for a full three-sixty.
Georgy was unhappy at first. Of course she was; she loved her home, she’d grown up there, all her favourite and most familiar things were there, but the plus side was this was more like an extended holiday, or at least the kids thought so, and it wasn’t a permanent change; we’d go home one day, sooner rather than later if we could get that bloody lunatic, whoever he was, off our backs.
The cottage was fully stocked with the basic domestic necessities, things like household appliances, saucepans, skillets, and baking sheets, silverware, tableware, bed-linens, quilts, pillows, and fluffy bathrobes. There was even a backup generator and a full fuel-oil tank for the hot water heater and central heating. Georgy and I had always meant to go back there and spend an extended holiday, but then pregnancy, work, and family life had put a hold on that, but we’d always kept the place spick and span and ready to go if we ever managed to get a week away from work. I never guessed in a million years we’d be using it as a hideaway from a lunatic who had a homicidal hatred of us for reasons unknown…
The kids were quiet at first, and Georgy kept giving me worried glances; the three of them were usually just this side of bloody rowdy, and to see them so subdued worried me more that I wanted to let on, but I could see Georgy was worried too; what had that terrifying incident done to them, especially Jamie, who’d seen his mother and I huddling against a wall while someone shot at us?
After a couple of hours Georgy had had enough of the silence from the back seat, and made me pull over onto the wide grass verge.
“Ty, I think the kids need to stretch their legs,” she told me, mugging furiously, and I agreed just as phony-heartily, jumping out and unbuckling the children’s seat harnesses so they could run around in the warm sunshine. Jerry and Edie seemed to be relatively unaffected by what had happened; they’d been safe upstairs when Georgy and I had been pinned down, but Jamie, usually the adventurous, outgoing one, wouldn’t go with Georgy as she and the two little ones pointed out and laughed at rabbits and cows in the fields and all the Hedge-Sparrows and songbirds flitting in and out of the Hawthorn hedgerows, cautious of the Harriers hovering high above the fields.
For the first time in a very long time Jamie slipped his hand into mine and clung on tight, refusing to leave my side. He didn’t even object when I picked him up, something he hates with a passion; instead he clung tightly to my neck, and I realised he was crying. I nodded at Georgy’s worried glance and sauntered around the car with him, taking him out of sight of the two little ones as they played and ran around on the grass with Georgy.
“Do you want to tell me about it, son?” I urged him, sitting on the tailgate with him in my arms. Jamie said nothing, just cried softly, so I let him, obviously he had something he needed to cry out, so I waited, holding him close until he was ready to talk. It distressed me that my little boy was so distressed; Jamie never cries, he’s a confident, calming influence on the two younger ones even though he’s only seven years old, but now he was just my little boy and he needed to cry. Jamie is Jamie; when he’s ready to share, he does.
After a few more minutes I sensed he’d stopped crying, so I pulled a Kleenex out of the travel bag and wiped his eyes while he blew his nose. Once he was cleaned up I pulled him against me, letting him listen to my voice in my chest as I talked, the way he’d liked to sleep when he was small.
“You want to tell me about it, son?” I asked, feeling him nod against me, so I let him speak, telling me all about it.
“Daddy, was that man trying to kill you and Mummy? Was he going to kill Mummy? Why?” he murmured. Right, so that was what this was about. I thought so.
Jamie tucked his head further in under my chin, his favourite spot when he was a toddler, so he could feel my voice rumbling in my chest and listen to my heartbeat.
“No, no he wasn’t, he was just trying to scare us, me and Mummy. I don’t know why he wanted to scare us, but Uncle Rex, and Uncle Andy, and me, when we get you all nice and comfy and settled-in where we’re going, we’re going to find out.”
“Were you scared, daddy?” he asked, and I told him the truth.
“Yes, Jamie, just a little bit, but Mummy was very scared, he frightened her and that scared me, and then I saw you, and you could have been hurt by accident and that scared me even more; that’s why Uncle Rex grabbed you and hid you under the stairs, so you’d be safe, just in case.”
“You stopped Mummy being scared didn’t you, Daddy?” he asked, and I had to smile.
“I think so, Jamie; actually, though, she stopped being scared when she knew you were okay; you’re her big-boy, and she always wants you to be safe and happy, that’s her job; to be your Mummy and love you, and Edie, and Jerry and make you all happy.”
“And we have to love Mummy and keep her safe and make her happy too, don’t we daddy?” he asked me, and I had to grin, almost bursting with pride; how did I get so lucky with this kid? I ruffled his hair affectionately and for once he didn’t shake his head in annoyance and smooth his hair back again; instead he grinned back at me, all trace of tears or fear gone from his eyes. I knew another hug wasn’t going to happen; he wouldn’t like that, he wasn’t a huggy-clingy kid at all, so I squeezed his shoulder, man-to-man stuff he’d appreciate.
“That’s right, Jamie; you and me, our job is to keep Mummy and Edie and Jerry and Aunt Kay and Megan safe; you ready to help me, son?”
His grey eyes sparkled.
“Let’s do it, Daddy, let’s take mummy somewhere far away so she can be safe and we can look after her!”
I shook hands solemnly with him. “It’s a deal, now you better go and give her a hug; Mummy’s still very worried about you.”
He slid off me and ran around the car, and when I peered around the car he was kneeling on Georgy’s lap as she sat cross-legged on the grass, hugging her while he kissed her, her glance at me just a little puzzled at the sudden display of affection, but I could see she was more than happy to lap it up.
When we finally herded the kids back into the car after one last look at the really interesting caterpillar, and confirming the clutch of pheasants across the road were indeed pheasants, just like the ones Edie and Jerry chased around in the grounds back home every day, and one last look at the sheep in the field next to us, and lots of “no Jerry, leave that poor frog alone, no you can’t have him, no he won’t like living in your pocket, put him down,” or “yes, that is a cow, baby-girl, yes it is very pretty, no, you can’t ride it like a pony, no, we can’t get you one right now, maybe Mummy will get you a pony later on,” etc. and got them strapped-in, they were all three chattering nineteen to the dozen like they always did, jumping around from subject to subject at random.
Georgy slipped into her seat and squeezed my knee. I grinned at her and she glanced back at the kids, once more their usual, noisy selves, and leaned over to whisper “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you!” before kissing me Georgy-style, which meant she put a lot of effort into it, which of course brought a barrage of ‘”Ew, daddy, yuk!” and loud kissy noises and giggles from the peanut gallery. Georgy grinned happily; our kids were back.
“Let’s get them settled in and I can thank you properly!” she grinned, winking lewdly, “It’s been a strange day, I think I’m going to need some normal soon, you get my drift, Tyler Wilmot?”
I did indeed; suddenly it seemed a long, long way to the Peak District…
*****
The children loved the cottage, immediately staking-out their claims to their own favourite places, the things they wanted to do, places they wanted to explore, things they wanted to see. Our living arrangements were easy to decide; Georgy and I, the kids, and Megan in one half of the house, Bonzo, Jarhead, and Aunt Kay in their own rooms in the other half of the house. The kids got the master bedroom but there was no friction over the three of them sharing a room; Jamie had his own bedroom back home, and Jerry and Edie each had their own beds in the nursery, but you could bank on finding them both fast asleep together every morning; they slept better that way, so we never made a thing out of it. All in all, the three of them were quite happy to ‘rough it’ for the duration.
Georgy and my room was on one side of the kids’ room and Megan’s room on the other side, with a connecting door to the kid’s room she insisted on wedging open; even here, a long way from what had happened at home she wouldn’t be separated from the children. The kids were under the impression we were on holiday, and, to be honest, that’s what it felt like. As far as I was concerned, the happier they were to be here, the less likely they were to think about or brood on what had happened back there.
Obviously, there were no stores in the house; other than the people we paid to clean the place once a week and do essential maintenance no-one had been here since before Jamie was born, so our first priority was getting in some supplies. The nearest village was about five miles away, in the next valley, and the first shopping trip reminded me why you should never take hungry kids through a supermarket.