The Border Reiver (4 page)

He threw the rest of the coiled fuse to the floor next to the bottles along with anything else that would burn. When he had set the bonfire, he ran to the barn and wheeled back sacks of AN fertilizer and plastic fuel oil bottles. They joined the heap in the cellar.

When he had finished, he clapped the dust off his hands and stood back from his handiwork. He shook his hot head in sadness as well as in uncertainty; he had no idea what he was doing, but he reassured himself it was failsafe. If everything else were lost, if he lost, his home would not fall into their hands now.

Nat returned to the kitchen where Amber stood with her back to the warmth of the Aga and Esme sat in the armchair next to a roaring fire. Both were wide-eyed with nerves, waiting to leave. His wife looked at him sadly, “I've seen what you've done Nat. Whatever happens, Nat, promise me you will get out?”

“Of course, I promise Es, I'll be up on the hill watching the show.” It was half-hearted bravado.

He told them to go and get in the car and wait for him. Then he picked up the phone and dialled a Scottish number. He waited as the ringing tone resonated back down the line. He pictured his old friend sitting in his kitchen listening to the phone ring, thinking ‘Who’s that?’ and ‘If I leave it long enough, they’ll go away.’ But Nat knew he didn’t have an answer phone, and it would just ring eternally if necessary; so, he waited it out. Finally, the receiver at the other end was lifted - there was no “Hello?” - only silence.

Nat spoke, “Stuart, it’s Nat. I need your help.”

“Ah, Nat, it’s you, tell me, no problem,” returned the borders drawl. “Are the girls ok? What’s happening down there? The news says it’s a fucking riot, the countryside is at war, farmers killing government troops and vice versa. There's a big debate up here whether we should intervene or leave you English to kill yourselves.” 

“Yeah, Esme has had a scare, and they'll be back tomorrow, so I want to get Amber and Esme to you if that’s ok?”

“No problem, but the border is locked down; the Scottish are massing military there as we speak. Forget the Carter Bar - I don’t think you’ll get through, or, if you do, you’ll be stuck for hours. Take the Kielder Road and skirt the eastern side of the reservoir, about three k from the head of the reservoir there is an old stone bridge on a right-hand turn. Park up there and follow the burn north. It’s called Bell’s Burn so that should be lucky! After about one k the burn corners in an easterly direction around the northern edge of woodland. Follow it all the way - it leads straight over the border and under a wooded track. When you get to the track, follow it east, and I’ll be there.”

“How long before you can get there”

“Couple of hours at the outside”

“We’re leaving now. Thanks, eh.”

“Leave it, Nat, and be careful, ok.”

Nat downed the receiver with a slight feeling of reassurance; he didn’t feel quite so alone. Once Amber and Esme were safe, he felt he would be able to concentrate on the task in hand much better. He hurried out to the car. Esme and Amber were waiting: Esme in the passenger seat and Amber behind her. The engine was running, and there was already heat emanating from the blower. 

“Ok?” he asked as he climbed in; both women nodded. He gunned the accelerator, and they hammered down the long drive. They had travelled less than a hundred yards when Nat’s heart sank once more. Rushing up the drive to meet them were a set of headlights. His mind racing, he thought there could only be five in the car, more likely four. Esme was looking at him, and he nodded down to the foot well where she sat; she leaned down and felt around until her hand appeared with a short-handled axe.

“Pass it over, Esme,” he said. “And when I get out, you take the driver’s seat. Don’t wait to see what happens - you drive.”

Nat pulled over to the side of the road as the car approached, using the time to explain to Esme the route across the border that Stuart had given them. He lowered his window allowing the driving rain to enter the Jeep as the second car loomed closer at pace. The car only seemed to notice the Jeep late and had to break hard, skidding to a stop. All the occupants of the Jeep sighed with relief as they recognised the small Nissan next to them.

The window came down and out came the familiar voice of their neighbour from two miles down the road,

“Oh, Nat, thank God we found you. They came to our house, six of them. They wrecked the house, taking everything and anything; they beat Bob over and again; and, they are coming back with a truck for our diesel. Bob’s in a bad way, Nat. Please help us?”

“Calm down, Jean, we’ll take you to the hospital now…” said Esme.

“No, Esme,” shouted Nat. “No, we can’t spare the time; we have to get you to safety.” He looked across at Jean and asked, “Can he walk?”

“No, Nat. I think they broke his leg or his ankle or something, but his ribs are damaged too and look at his face...he needs a doctor!”

“Ok, turn round, Nat,” Esme butted in. “Take me back to the house with Bob and Jean; I’ll patch him up and take him into hospital in Newcastle. I’ll leave them there and make sure I’m back for you in a couple of hours. Go on, we’ll be OK. Otherwise, Stuart will be waiting; you can’t get hold of him now - he will have left. Go, Nat! Get Amber to safety.”

Nat looked at the old couple, and, while he cared for them, he didn’t want to leave his wife. Esme pounced on his hesitation, exclaiming,

“Come on, Nat! We haven’t got time for this! I won’t leave these people.”

Nat bowed to the pressure from his wife, his mind chaos.

“Ok, Jean, go on up to the house, I’m turning round.”

He spun the wheel and turned in one motion, riding onto the grassy verge at the side of the road. The wheels tore up the sodden ground, but the heavy tires found traction and the Jeep began to move with a lolloping action.

At the house, they made Bob and Jean comfortable in the kitchen, Amber remained in the Jeep, and Nat stood next to the open driver’s door as it idled. Esme approached him to see him off, and her beauty gripped his heart like a vice. His head was a mess, and he did not know what to do for the best, but his wife had serenity, a confidence that reassured him.                                                

“Get her to safety, Nat; that’s the most important thing. We’ll be out of the house for most of the time you’re away anyway. You’ll only be a couple of hours.”

Nat saw the flash of fear in those beautiful green eyes, and he gripped her shoulders.

“They come back, you take this.” He held up a lighter. “And, you light that fuse poking out of the floorboards in the hallway. Then you get out of there, head up the hill to our place and wait for me there. Do it, Esme, with or without Bob and Jean. You stay safe, woman.”

“Don’t be soft, Nat. I won’t need that.”

“Take it anyway.”

Nat had one foot in the idling jeep; he turned with one large hand on the door.

“You use it, Esme, if you need to.”

Reluctantly, she put the lighter in her pocket and moved in close to Nat; she hugged him tight and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“I love you, Nat.”

“Don’t worry. You stay safe, and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He climbed into the Jeep fully and closed the door behind him; the window was open from earlier, and Esme approached it and put her hands on the frame. Nat took her hand and squeezed it looking at her face. It was taut with stress, glimmering in the dull light; he had nothing more to say, he didn’t have any answers or any time to think this through. He just had to go and get back as soon as he could. He attempted a smile and released her hand. She stepped back, and then she saw Amber in the back and was overwhelmed by love once again; she pulled open the heavy door and grabbed the young woman's face in both hands.

“You listen to your Dad and Stuart, do whatever they say…ok?”

Amber nodded.

They both smiled, and Esme kissed her daughter’s face over and over again. Then reluctantly allowing her hands to slip away from her daughter’s cheeks, she closed the door and took a few paces backwards with tears welling in her eyes.

Nat’s battered old jaw formed as near a smile as it was ever going to manage and with a nod he slammed his foot on the accelerator. The village of Great Whittington was quiet as he passed through. A little too quiet for this time of night.

There was an eerie orange glow in the middle distance to the southeast. It was too close to be the lights of Newcastle, and he guessed that it was the paper factory at Prudhoe burning. As he passed the Errington Arms, also boarded up and closed, he entered the dark void heading north, and he thought about the revolution that had swept the country. How unbelievable it would have been twenty years ago to suggest this would be happening now. Although, he conceded to himself, he had witnessed the meltdown over recent years.

His attention was shocked back to the road by the steady stream of cars he came up behind. The silver fans of headlights and red dot eyes of the tail lights wound over the undulations of the straight road for miles, and Nat hoped that the border was still open for all these people trying to escape. As he followed the convoy, he could see Amber nodding off in the rear view mirror. It reminded him of her early years when he used to angle the mirror so that he could watch her playing or sleeping in the back of the car while he drove. Esme was heavy on his mind, the traffic was a pain, and he ground his teeth in frustration.

The squeak and whoosh of the wipers was the soundtrack to the journey. The mesmerising view of the white lines flashing into sight through the rain and being devoured in the same instant by his jeep made him drift off, but the wrinkles of the road whipped his concentration back. 

The straight ribbon of road and lights came to an abrupt end, temporarily, as he came upon the brow of the hill that looks down towards Otterburn. They would be turning left at the crossroads towards Bellingham and Kielder instead of right to Otterburn or straight ahead to the Carter Bar. It was this dark wilderness of the border country in which they would lose themselves. Now, off the main road, the night outside the car was black as death, but the rain had broken and he could see some stars penetrating the churning cloud cover. ‘Good news,’ he thought, drier and lighter for the walk ahead of them.

They were alone on the road now, and Nat could feel the looming emptiness of Kielder reservoir on his right. He opened his window, and he could feel and smell that cold air, heavy with moisture that comes from a large body of water. He sucked up the fresh, invigorating ether; it normalised the situation.

After a few short minutes, he saw the lights of a home on the left and the shadowy outline of the stone bridge on the right. He pulled into the side of the road well short of the house and turned the headlights off.

He turned to Amber, “This is it, lass. C’mon.”

She nodded and opened her door with a crunch and a creak. Nat jumped down from the driver’s seat. He moved around the front of the Jeep and went to step up on to the grass verge but his foot slipped on the sodden bank, and he tripped and tumbled into the ditch. Amber jumped from the truck and scrambled down to him. When she found him in the dark, he was chortling to himself and had his hand out.

“Well, help me up then, girl. I’m in this mud like a plug in the bath!”

She shook her head and laughed. Clapping her hand tight to his, she said,

“You auld codger - what’ll you do without me around?”

“We’ll be with you by the time you’re awake in the morning.” 

Nat wiped himself down, took the pack from his daughter, and they set out in the cold night air, at home and in control. Their eyes were now making use of what light there was and the world of shadows unravelled in front of them step by step.

The road continued straight for about two hundred yards then veered sharp right over the old stone bridge. Straight ahead at this point was a rough track which led straight past the house that they could see, lights on and occupied.

Nat whispered to Amber, “Head up the track, but stay in the shadows; we don’t know who’s home, and if they’re nervous, we could end up shot.”

As they walked along the track, Nat nudged Amber and pointed to the fence on the right. The field behind dropped away some ten feet, ample to conceal them from view. They hurried down into the field and, once they were moving through the boggy grass, they both became more relaxed, the smells and the feel of the land around them and the freedom of the endless sky above.

The wind swirled and beat them, but without biting or soaking, and they moved quickly through the ankle high grass. They followed the burn that took Nat’s family name, a nod to centuries past when his ancestors would have trod this path on raids north of the border.

The burn was bridged by the rough track that they had left, and the two ghostly figures ducked under the low crossing. The stream led them left along the extremity of a thick immature conifer forest. They kept out of the trees; there was no need for cover, and the going was much easier in the grass.

As they turned north once more, the trees ended and they were running in the open, but Nat felt a change in the symphony of the night - there was an alien presence, and it was huge. Similar to the sense of the dark void that was Kielder, this was an elephant in the room. And then it materialised: out of the black loomed a shadow against the sky. Nat slowed and walked up to a concrete pillar which rose at least three metres upwards. He felt the cold concrete, as if to convince himself the thing was real. He thought for a minute then looked to his right. He could not see anything in the dark, but he set off striding out about a yard or a metre, the usual way. He counted ‘one, two, three’ as he stepped and after five strides he hit another pillar. Evidently, the NSO were certainly planning on closing the border; once the concrete slabs were set in between each of these pillars, no one would be crossing the border.