Sophia and Karen are still grappling on the ground, both grasping the rifle with their hands. Diane has made a run for it, down the hill. Graham lets her go for now and rushes to Sophia’s aid. He grabs hold of Karen and punches her square in the face, then yanks the rifle out of her grasp.
Sophia lets go and lays on the ground, panting, exhausted.
Karen spits blood at him, seething. ‘You’ll fucking regret this, Graham! Mark my words. Nothing good ever comes from sticking your nose in …’
‘Oh, shut up,’ mutters Graham, just before slamming the butt of the rifle into her nose, breaking it. She howls, covering her face with both hands as blood pours into her mouth and down her chin.
How’s that for irony, he thinks.
Graham grabs the rope that had been used to string up Stephen and quickly binds Karen’s and Davies’ wrists together; tighter this time.
Sophia is kneeling next to Stephen, who is still unconscious, his face pale.
‘I need to get him to a hospital,’ says Graham, reaching to check Stephen’s pulse. It’s weak, barely there.
‘I … I don’t think he’s going to make it,’ says Sophia softly. She’s crying, her cheeks streaked with tears.
Graham shakes his head. ‘No, he’ll be fine. I got to him in time. He’s still breathing.’ He reaches into his pocket, removes Stephen’s phone and dials for an ambulance.
Sophia and Graham sit beside Stephen while help arrives, shaded by the canopy of the tree while the night creeps closer with every passing minute.
The darkness arrives to collectits old friend.
Epilogue
GRAHAM
Six months later …
Graham sits beneath the tree on a wooden bench he built himself. The branches above are mostly bare, but tiny spring buds are beginning to bloom, ready for another year. Sunrise is in precisely eleven minutes. He’s waiting for someone. They’ll be here soon.
Barney rests at his feet. The old dog doesn’t always manage the trip up the hill with him, but today is a special day. Graham has spent the past six months looking after the canine and has come to enjoy the warm, furry body on his lap of an evening. Just two old dogs, enjoying each other’s company.
The view is spectacular. He makes the journey to the top of the hill every single morning and evening without fail; rain or shine. It had been particularly difficult during the winter months, especially when two feet of snow made an appearance on Christmas morning, but it’s worth it.
It’s a very special place to be. Watching the sunrise and sunset has become his twice daily ritual. Yes, there are times when he has to break it, like a couple of months ago when he succumbed to a nasty cold and then developed a stubborn chest infection that wouldn’t shift without blastedantibiotics, but otherwise, he makes the effort to visit the bench under the tree. His overall health and fitness has improved (other than the cold and chest infection) thanks to his trips up the hill and his cutbacks on junk food and whisky. In general, Graham is feeling good.
The bench has turned out well, and is now showing the signs of wear and tear from the harsh Welsh weather. It’s often covered in dirt, fallen leaves and bird droppings, but Graham brushes it down and keeps it in decent condition.
Resting on his lap is a notepad and a pen, ready for when inspiration strikes. He closes his eyes and breathes in the cool air. Spring is well and truly here; the temperature rising with every passing day.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ says a friendly voice.
Graham opens his eyes as Barney jumps to his feet and greets the new arrival. ‘Not at all. In fact, by my watch, you’re right on time,’ replies Graham.
Sophia ruffles Barney’s head and kisses him before taking a seat. Barney leaps up and lays across her lap. ‘The bench has turned out great.’ She shifts slightly, careful not to disturb Barney and runs a finger over the small, gold plaque attached to the back of the bench.
In memory of Stephen Mallow and John Hammel.
Two souls. Two lives. Two incredible legacies.
‘Thank you,’ replies Graham with a sad smile. ‘How are you? You look very different than when I last saw you.’ Her face is fuller now, a bright spark to her eyes and she looks to have put on several pounds in body weight, making her look healthy and strong. She’s chopped off her long hair, which had been limp and knotted when Graham had rescued her. Now it’s cropped and shiny, shaved on one side above her ear.
Sophia faces forwards, staring at the view, at the sun beginning to crest over the horizon. She strokes Barney’s soft coat while she speaks, curling his long fur between her fingers. ‘I’ve been good. Therapy has been going well, and I’m ready to move back home.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I’ve thought about it for a long time. I needed to get away and recover, but I’m ready to come back and try and take over the farm. I’m gutted I missed Mum’s funeral though.’
