Aleksey shrugged, and they climbed in the car.
‘I hope there’s an ice cream van.’
Aleksey swivelled his neck and regarded Ben’s profile. The gannet had just polished off the most enormous bowl of apple and blackberry crumble and custard either of them had ever seen. But apparently there was still some space.
The car park at the top of the hill was unsurprisingly busy. A place nominated as an area of outstanding natural beauty, it was a bit of a magnet for visitors, and the views across the Tamar valley were unsurpassed. They found a spot to park, got out and walked to the edge of the path which ran up to the old mine chimney which formed the landmark’s most prominent feature. Neither wanted to risk collapsing mine shafts, so they went no further towards it. Instead, Ben went to one of the information boards, which pointed out the places which could be seen from various compass points, as well as some of the history. ‘Hey, come look at this.’
Aleksey dutifully went to stand alongside him, shivering slightly in the cold wind which blew unhindered by any natural shelter—probably straight from Iceland, he thought sourly.
‘This is Hingston Down. Just like the bridge in Tipton St Mary and Annie Hingston. We keep tripping over the same things.’
Aleksey had noted this phenomenon himself, and didn’t much like it.
‘Huh. Look. There was a battle here where the Cornish and the Vikings fought together against the Saxons—and lost. See?The dream of Cornish independence died on this spot.You should bring your new girlfriend here. Nice spot for a first date: great views and the end of all her dreams.’
‘I have given a few women first dates like that already.’ He got an annoyed glare, so he added, ‘I believe it was another woman who told me recently that nothing ever really dies.’
They regarded the ancient battlefield together, the grassy slope now just a place for bracken and gorse. He reckoned it would be a good spot for a field trip and assumed that Professor Mark knew this already.
They went back to the car and climbed in. Ben checked his watch. ‘I’ll be in time to pick Molly up if I put my foot down a bit.’
‘Ah, good, we can test Rachel’s theory.’ He felt a retort coming, but instead, Ben decided to drown him out. He flicked on some music and backed out of the spot with a skid of gravel.
By the time they were on the single-lane track which descended back to the small village of Kelly Bray, Aleksey was frowning at the booming sound deck.
Ben started his off-tune signing, clearly thinking he was being clever in his choice of lyrics. ‘This is the end, beautiful friend.’
‘I—Ben—this was playing in the—’
‘This is the end, my only friend.’ Ben was laughing as he was singing. Aleksey tried to explain. But then it all started to happen and his words hung, unsaid. They were tearing down the hill, nothing coming the other way, road to themselves, the music dizzyingly loud, Ben singing, and then a tractor fifty yards ahead drove off the open common on the left and straight across the steep lane and just stopped. Ben’s concentration switched on like the flick of a switch bringing instant illumination, and he was totally in control, his foot hitting the brake, Aleksey bracing, and his eyes closing as they always did, but nothing happened. Ben stamped his foot again. They were still hurtling towards the tractor which was stationary in the lane while its driver, on foot, opened the gate opposite.
Ben swore, continued to pump his foot, and then he turned the car in a savage arc towards the grassy berm that separated the road from the battleground. It was half a meter high, they hit it side-on, going at least sixty, and they flipped.
Aleksey’s neck snapped one way, then the other. His shoulder was wrenched against his belt, then his neck clicked back and they were still rolling. He lost all sense of direction until everything was still. He opened his eyes. Blinked. He was hanging by his seatbelt upside down.
Ben’s hand came out to find him and he croaked, ‘I’m okay. You?’
Ben grunted.
The blood was rushing to Aleksey’s head. ‘Do we not have airbags? How disappointing.’
He just got another grunt in reply, and then Ben fumbled for their emergency escape tool.
Aleksey heard breaking of glass and then Ben slashed his seatbelt, dropped down and wriggled out. He was left listening to the music, the volume of which had not apparently been affected by the crash. ‘All the children are insane, all the children are insane.’
His window cracked. Ben kicked it out and he was dragged free.
The car, on its roof, was over a hundred yards from the road. There was an impressive, vivid scar carved in the turf. The tractor driver was sprinting down towards them. Some of the sightseers at the top of the hill were coming too. Most had phones in their hands, either summoning help or hoping to go viral later that night.
Ben helped him to sit down on a rock and began to check him over. He batted his hand away, something of a first, and said gruffly, ‘I’m okay.’ He dug around for his phone. His hand was shaking. He studied it, fascinated.
He called Squeezy.
Occasionally, he recalled what he paid the moron for.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Three
