By the time Squeezy got there, Aleksey was having quite a nice time. A group of people had opted to stay with him, and he’d been given a heavily sugared cup of tea from a thermos, and a Labrador had been offering him genteel support by leaning on his leg and demanding more pats whenever they stopped. He wondered if anyone would put a tartan blanket around his shoulders and he could finally head for a cosy rest home somewhere. When he saw the other Merc coming up the hill, he rose and shook himself a little. He wasn’t bleeding. It was almost a first for him.
One elderly woman, whom he suspected owned the dog, commented with a worried expression, ‘That looks nasty. I think you’d better get that looked at.’ When he frowned and tried to look down to where she was indicating, he regretted the neck movement and just said, ‘Yes. I will. Thank you.’
Squeezy came striding towards them. ‘Fucking hell!’
He came right up to him, took his face in both hands, stared into his eyes, shook him a little, patted him down and then blew out his cheeks. ‘Shit. Won’t you ever die?’
He went and tried to check Ben over, but Ben knocked his hand away. He’d been walking around the vehicle, climbing on it, crawling back into it and then up onto it again. He had at least turned the music off, which had been a huge relief to Aleksey and his little band of supporters. What he’d not been doing was talking to him. Aleksey hadn’t said anything to Ben either.I told you socame to mind, but he wasn’t that mean. Or wasn’t ready to say it, more like. He had a feeling that later that night, when he’d had time to think about thingsI fucking told you somight be exactly what he would say. Ben’s exceptional looks could only ease him so much through life. This wasBen’sfault. They could have been killed, and Aleksey hadtold him so.
Squeezy was now climbing around the car, so Aleksey made his way to the second vehicle and pulled himself up into the passenger seat. Ben left his friend standing by the upturned car on the phone and came over and got into the driver’s seat. Aleksey said, ‘You’re going to drive?’ He hadn’t meantseriously, you think I’d ever let you drive me againbut it came out sounding a little like that regardless. He’d only been surprised Ben felt like driving. He sure as hell didn’t. But Ben was India rubber and nothing seemed to affect him physically, so he was more than able to drive them home. He didn’t appear quite so willing to now, however. Not after that comment, anyway.
He paused for a minute, then started the engine and pulled away. Aleksey rewound the accident a number of times on the way home. It gave him something to do as they weren’t speaking. It didn’t help that the car was exactly the same. Ben had bought two identical ones, and it was as if his vehicle had been magically restored. He’d gone back to naming it his because Ben didn’t have the right to claim it anymore. TheI told you sowas bubbling closer to the surface minute by minute.
They got home. Aleksey assumed the moron was sorting the wreck and finding his own way back. As he and Ben weren’t speaking he couldn’t ask. He went straight to the wine rack and pulled down a bottle and then eased himself into a chair. Then he remembered the odd comment from the senior member of his little flock and levered himself up with great difficulty and went across the swim lane, through their bedroom and into the bathroom. He inspected himself in the mirror. He eased the collar of his shirt to one side. He chuckled. He had a huge bruise where the seatbelt had held him and it was surrounded by a red, raw abrasion which in turn was interspersed in places with cuts like lashes from a tiny whip, where he assumed the edges had dug in. He’d got off lightly. He wondered if Ben had a similar one on the opposite side, but wasn’t about to ask.
He wished he hadn’t made such rash promises about things now. It was definitely time for a little oblivion from pain, from Ben, and from just being himself. But there was only wine, and he had to drink a lot of that to go the places he felt like going that night.
Sticky, wondering if he’d lost a few pounds of adrenalin-sweat when he’d seen the tractor, he took a shower and changed into some old jeans and a sweater.
When he came out into the kitchen, the moron and Ben were drinking tea and working their way through a plate of biscuits. All very normal.
Ben glanced at him then went back to his tea. It was hard, Aleksey supposed, when you constantly had the moral high ground because you lived with someone like him to ever have to admit that you were entirely at fault about something. Ben wasn’t used to this—as Phillipa had so sagaciously pointed out…he was perfect. Ben rarely apologised about anything because he rarely had anything to be sorry for. But it disappointed Aleksey a little that Ben didn’t immediately own this.
He went to the kettle and put it on to re-boil. It was a good thing the moron was there, he supposed. They wouldn’t get into it while he was present. But it was coming. Aleksey could feel the pressure in his head building as it had before the tsunami. An after-burn of dropping acid at his father’s dacha? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it was just the realisation that as he built up his defences against the enemy at his gates he had been entirely wasting his time: those you loved the most might be the ones to kill you in the end.
He took his tea when it was made and sat down at the head of the table, flanked by the other two.
Ben was tapping the table. It was extremely irritating. Finally, he took a breath and said in a bit of a rush, ‘I need to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it. I don’t want to get into it really.’
Squeezy piped up, ‘I do—can’t wait to see your fucking face when you hear this.’
Aleksey tipped his head to one side enquiringly, expecting an apology, and groaned audibly with pain. ‘What?’
‘Someone loosened the brake union which holds the pipe into the brake calliper.’ Ben’s voice was strained.
Aleksey chewed this around for a moment. ‘Say that again in English.’
Ben put his hand on his arm. ‘Someone undid the bit that holds the brake pipes where they need to go. The fluid has been draining out every time I applied the brakes. Could have been doing that for days, could have been a week. But it wasn’t an accident. I think someone tried to kill us.’
He looked at Squeezy. The moron nodded. ‘No doubt.’
‘Could it not have come loose by…I don’t know…jiggling?’
Ben shook his head. ‘You’d need an eight or ten mil opened-ended spanner, and you’d need to know what you were doing.’
‘Our brake lines were cut?’
‘No, not cut. That’s not how it works. Just a joint loosened. Every single time I used the brakes a little more fluid would have drained out until…shit, tractor, no braking ability at all.’
Squeezy added, ‘Just as well Diesel was driving, boss. You?’ He drew a line across his neck and went back happily to sipping his tea. Then he held out his hand palm up and waggled his fingers at Ben. ‘Car keys?’
Ben indicated to the key rack, Squeezy grabbed a couple of biscuits for the trip home, sorted the set he wanted, and left.
It was entirely silent in the kitchen until Aleksey lunged from his chair and pulled Ben to his feet, hugging him and burying his face into his neck. Ben hugged back just as hard and whispered, ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have needed to slam the brakes on, should I? Your life doesn’t need any more emergency stops in it.’
Aleksey held him off a little. ‘What kind of access would someone need to do this? How long would it take?’
‘It’s easy—slide under, couple of minutes? The spanner need only be a few inches long, so you could slip in a pocket, conceal it in the palm of your hand even.’
