The thought of Digby being shot by accident if he found himself in the line of fire had Jess sprinting for the woods.
Sebastian wandered into the kitchen, surprised to see Candida in the space instead of Jess.
‘Do you want a coffee?’ Candida said, gesturing to the kettle on the hotplate.
‘No, thanks. Any idea where Jess is?’
‘Oh. Gone to look for her dog, I think. I let him out through the garden door, and he shot off like a rocket. She went after him.’
Candida shrugged, her attention back on the kettle.
‘Which way did she go?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Towards the woods, I think.’
‘The woods in which they’re going to start shooting in …’ He checked his watch. ‘About ten minutes?’
His tone caught Candida’s attention, but she remained calm. ‘What’s the problem? She’ll find him before they get that far. And if not, they’ll just get caught up with the beaters. Jess might get shouted at for letting her dog interfere, but that’s all, surely?’
‘If she goes that way. But if she cuts across between the beaters and the guns, then what?’ He didn’t need to expand, because although shots should only ever be fired at birds flying high, plenty of terrible stories abounded where accidental shootings had occurred, and Candida had spent enough time at Kirkshield to know that as well as he did.
Candida’s expression tightened. ‘Do you want me to phone Olivia? Let her know they might have to call off the first drive?’
‘Yes. Do that. I’m going after Jess. She’s got no idea where anyone will be, or why. Tell Olivia they need to hold their fire until I get to them.’
Sebastian left Candida dialling his sister, grabbed his coat, shoved his feet into boots and headed outside.
The sparkling December frost was biting hard this morning, but Sebastian barely registered the cold, moved with too much speed to notice the icy chill wrapping its way around his bare fingers. There were gloves in his pocket, but right now he needed to run, to find Jess, to make sure she didn’t get herself into the line of fire.
Shouting her name as he ran, Sebastian legged it into the plantation. Maybe he should have got a vehicle, driven in with his father’s Range Rover – a last hurrah in it before its finance agreement was terminated. He would have been able to make faster progress on four wheels, but would it have been in the right direction? If Jess was chasing Digby, and the cockapoo was searching out the dogs brought by the pickers-up, they were probably heading straight through the pine trees – and they were planted too closely to allow vehicular access. No, he was better off on foot, taking a line directly to the pegs where he knew the guns would be standing.
Sebastian’s lungs might have had something to say about his decision, if they weren’t burning with the effort of dragging in enough oxygen by the time he was close to the guns. He hadn’t run like this for years, and still hadn’t caught sight of Jess. Perhaps he was heading in the wrong direction; maybe she hadn’t come this way at all, and his efforts were for no purpose.
And then he heard the shouts from the beaters, flapping and clapping to encourage the birds to fly. Pheasants were squawking and lifting, wings raising a breeze as they tried to escape. Sebastian didn’t have enough lung capacity to shout at the beaters to stop – they wouldn’t have heard him anyway – and, as he heard the first blast from a shotgun, he caught sight of Jess, a flash of her bright blue jumper over in the trees, as he realised to his horror they were both now in the line of fire.
Jess finally had hold of Digby, but she didn’t know what to do next. They were stuck in the pine plantation with birds going everywhere and a heck of a hullaballoo behind them. When someone had fired a shotgun somewhere in front of her, she’d wanted to hit the ground like a character from an action movie. She had no idea how many people were here to do the actual shooting, but as the rest of the guns joined in, it sounded enough like Armageddon to have her crouching behind the trunk of the nearest tree, clutching Digby close.
Jess didn’t know whether staying put was the safest option, or whether she should try to get Digby away. It took milliseconds for her to realise the idea of trying to move terrified her more than the idea of staying put.
But how far did shotgun pellets travel? Quite some distance, she supposed, if they managed to kill birds high in the air. How was she supposed to know in which direction they would be shooting, or for how long the guns would continue to fire? What if someone fired at a bird in the woods? Jess did her best to swallow the sob which threatened to allow fear to overwhelm her. This was a nightmare. She felt in a pocket, pulling out her phone with trembling fingers, wanting to call someone for help.
Sebastian’s number scrolled into view, and she pressed dial, confused when she thought she heard a phone ringing close by. A click and the call was answered.
‘Jess. Stay where you are, I’m coming to you.’
Nestled behind the tree, Jess had no intention of moving, but how did Sebastian know why she was phoning, never mind where she was. And why did he sound so out of breath?
‘But …’
‘I’m in the woods, too. Candida told me where you’d gone. I can see you, so stay put, OK? I’m coming to you.’
Please be careful… Her thought remained unspoken; Sebastian ended the call before she could say it. Peering around the tree, she caught sight of something other than the birds moving. A familiar tweed-coated figure, moving low and fast through the trees.
Before Sebastian had crossed half the space between them, Jess heard someone shout, ‘Low bird, leave it!’ and then something ricocheted through the trees close to Sebastian’s position. He paused, then cannoned through the rest of the space to reach her, his face ashen by the time he sank to the ground and pulled her close. His action was unexpected, but from the way his chest was heaving, and the fact he was swearing repeatedly under his breath, she knew the situation was serious.
‘Someone’s shooting at low birds,’ he said, between gasps for air. ‘Unbelievably dangerous …’
It certainly felt as though their situation was perilous, whatever was happening. Jess knew nothing about shooting etiquette, and so she stayed put, trying to allow the security of Sebastian’s arm around her shoulder and the need to comfort Digby, who was now shivering as he pressed himself against her lap, to distract from her own fright.
