The Woodcutter. Reginald Hill

she said making a note. ‘Let’s cut to the chase. Age twenty-one, you’re back with a suitcase full of cash, talking like a gent, no longer sucking your peas off your knife, and able to tell a hawk from a handsaw. How did Imogen greet you?’

      ‘She asked me to dinner at the castle. There were two or three other guests. Sir Leon was very polite to me. Lady Kira watched me like the Ice Queen but hardly spoke. I joined in the conversation, managed to use the right cutlery and didn’t knock over any wine glasses. After dinner Imogen took me out into the garden, allegedly to cast my so-called expert eye over a new magnolia planted to replace one that hadn’t made it through the winter. Out of sight of the house she stopped and turned to face me. “Well, will I do?” I asked. “Let’s see,” she said. And stepped out of her dress with the same ease that she’d stepped out of her shorts and trainers on Pillar Rock all those years ago. When we finished, she said, “You’ll do.” Couple of months later we married.’

      ‘Despite all the family objections?’

      ‘We had a trump card by then. Imo was pregnant. With Ginny. Made no difference to Dad and Sir Leon. They still stood out against the marriage. But Lady Kira seemed to see it made sense and that was enough. She calls the shots at the castle. Always did. So poor Leon had no choice but to give his blessing, and shake the mothballs out of his morning dress to give the bride away.’

      ‘Poor Leon?’ she echoed. ‘You sound as if you have some sympathy for him.’

      ‘Why not? He’s married to the Ice Queen, isn’t he? No, fair do’s, he may not have wanted me for his son-in-law, but I always got on well with Leon. And he went out of his way to try to make things right between me and my dad. Just about managed it the first two times. Third time was beyond human help.’

      ‘I’m sorry…?’

      Hadda said bleakly, ‘Think about it. They say things come in threes, don’t they? They certainly did for Fred. One, I disappeared for five years. Two, I came back and married Imogen against his wish and his judgment. Three, I got sent down for fraud and messing with young girls. Three times I broke his heart. The last time it didn’t mend.’

      And who do you blame for that? wondered Alva. But this wasn’t the time to get aggressive, not when she’d got him talking about what had to be one of the most significant relationships in his life.

      She said, ‘But the first two times, you say Leon tried to help?’

      ‘Oh yes. I think he recognized Dad and me were carved from the same rock. Left to our own devices, we’d probably never have spoken again! Don’t know what he said to Fred about me, but he told me that, after I vanished, often he’d go into the forest with Imogen, and they’d find Dad just sitting slumped against the old rowan, staring into space, completely out of it. Sometimes there’d be tears on his cheeks. It cracked me up, just hearing about it. So whenever I felt like telling Dad that if he wanted to be a stubborn old fool, he could just get on with it, I’d think of what Leon had told me and try to bite my tongue. Gradually things got better between us. And when Ginny was born…’

      He stopped abruptly and glared at her as if defying her to question him further about his daughter.

      She said, ‘So did Fred attend the wedding?’

      ‘Oh no,’ said Wolf, relaxing. ‘That would have been too much. I hoped right up till the ceremony started he’d show up. Then, once it started, I was scared he might!’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘That bit when the vicar asks if anyone knows of any impediment, I imagined the church door bursting open and Fred coming in with his axe and yelling, “How’s this for an impediment?” I remember, after the vicar asked the question he seemed to pause for ever. Then Johnny glanced round to the back of the church and shouted, “Speak up then” and that set everyone laughing.’

      ‘Johnny…?’

      ‘Johnny Nutbrown. He was my best man.’

      ‘A large step from being the nose-bleeding object of your anger,’ she said. ‘How did that come about?’

      ‘You mean, how come I didn’t have any old friends of my own to take on the job? Simple. I was always a loner and the few half friendships I formed at school didn’t survive my transformation, as you call it.’

      ‘But didn’t you make any new ones during this transformation period?’ she asked. ‘Even lowly woodcutters on a quest to perform three impossible tasks probably need a bit of human contact on the way.’

      ‘I don’t know, I didn’t meet any others,’ he said shortly.

      Then he pushed back his chair and stood up, reaching into his blouson as he did so.

      ‘You’re curious about me and Johnny Nutbrown?’ he said. ‘Well, I think you’ll find all you need to know in here.’

      And there it was, the next exercise book just as she’d hypothesized.

      But by producing it he had once again stepped aside from talking about those missing years, so as she took the book, she felt it less as a triumph than an evasion.

       Wolf

       i

      Let’s move on from our little diversion into childhood trauma and adolescent sexuality, shall we? Where was I before you nudged me down that fascinating side road?

      Oh yes.

      I’d been in a coma for the best part of nine months.

      During the early stages of my so-called recovery, I’ve no idea what proportion of my time I spent out of things. All I do know is that every period of full lucidity seemed to provide the opportunity for a new piece of shit to be hurled at me.

      I rapidly came to see that, far from things going away while I lay unconscious, they had got immeasurably and by now irrecoverably worse.