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Chapter 19
Amelia-Rose read the note that was hidden under the violin that Ralph had lent her. Unaccountable, her hand was shaking.
Hi Amelia-Rose!
I hope you like the violin. You can keep it for as long as you like. It will make me feel good to know that it is in your hands and I am sure you will look after it beautifully.
I forgot to mention that I have a caravan not far away from you. Come round and see me sometime and perhaps we'll make some music.
Yours
Ralph
Then there followed a simple map showing the way to him. His caravan was on the edge of a small field, hidden away in the corner of a nearby farm.
"You crafty rascal," smiled Amelia-Rose to herself. "You didn't need to drive anywhere after the pub."
But the fact that he had set her up to invite him back to her cottage gave her a warm feeling inside and minutes later rich mellow sounds poured from the violin as she gave vent to her happiness.
The man in the combat jacket had watched the fox killed through his long-range binoculars.
"Lovely job," he muttered to himself. Then he watched the blooding of the children with approval. But his feelings of contentment turned sour as he saw the woman from the cottage walking back arm in arm with the dark-haired, pony tailed man.
"Nancy Boy," he snarled, through gritted teeth. "Leave her alone or you'll get yours."
His anger subsided somewhat when another woman strode up and reclaimed the pony-tailed man and he watched the woman impassively through his binoculars as she walked alone back to the cottage.
The hunt had fuelled his blood lust. He'd plenty of food back at his place but saw a particularly large rabbit hopping nearby. The silencer on his rifle popped and the rabbit was hurled several feet by the force of the bullet. It spasmed twice and then was still. He scowled. It was too easy. There'd been little fun in the chase. But the kill made him feel good.
He contemplated leaving the rabbit for some old fox or to the crows that were wheeling overhead in anticipation of a good feed. But he didn't want to give them the pleasure so he caught the rabbit by its ears and took it back with him to his hideaway.
He always carefully inspected the entrance to ensure it had not been disturbed. His care was probably not necessary. The casual or even the careful eye would only see a bricked up entrance to somewhere that had been designated by someone as too dangerous for the public to have access.
In the early days, he'd spent hours gently removing the bricks to find out what lay behind them. The local government bunker he found behind the bricks had been stripped of anything of value after the decision had been taken at the end of the Cold War to decommission it.
Now the entrance was covered by a door faced with bricks and designed to defeat even the most careful investigation.
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