The Runaway Sisters by Ann Bennett

Author:Ann Bennett [Bennett, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It must have been around midnight when I heard Red get up. Sally and Joan had bathed my wounds before they’d gone to bed, but the pain was inching back. It had made me think of John, of the tenderness with which he’d bathed me after the last beating, and even with Peggy beside me, holding me closely, I hadn’t managed much sleep. My mind kept reliving the events of the afternoon: the shots ringing out, John’s body slumping to the ground, the blood seeping from his wound, soaking his clothes.

Red was speaking to the dog gruffly under his breath. He crept out of the barn, shutting the door gently. Then came the rumble of an engine at the top of the hill. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I hauled myself up into a sitting position, careful not to wake Peggy, then manoeuvred my aching body slowly and painfully so that I could kneel up and peer out of the top window above the bunk. Sure enough, it was the same lorry as before, parked at the top of the slope, its headlights beaming down into the yard. Reeves and Red were walking towards it, Red from the yard and Reeves from the direction of the house. I could see the glow of their cigarettes as they moved.

A man got out of the cab and all three of them conferred for a few moments, just like before. Then once again the Dartmoor ponies were led up the hill, tethered together, tossing their heads, pulling against the rope.

The ponies didn’t want to go up the ramp into the lorry. They reared and stamped and strained on the ropes. It took Red and the driver several attempts to coax them up there and slam the door shut. After the ponies had been shut up in the lorry, the three men stood talking in front of the truck. The driver handed something to Reeves; I presumed it to be a package of money. I watched as Reeves started to count it. He stopped after a while and handed it to Red, then stepped forward and seemed to be speaking urgently to the other man, pushing him backwards, seizing him by the collar. The other man squared up to Reeves and fought back, pushing Reeves off, and soon they were exchanging punches, pushing each other, slamming each other against the bonnet of the truck. Then Red joined in, kicking and punching the driver, and eventually the driver held up his hands in defeat. He hastily got into the truck, started the engine and reversed it. But as it turned, I saw something painted on the side that froze the blood in my veins: J. Anderson & Sons. Specialist Butchers and Slaughtermen.

The engine roared as the lorry turned round and sped up the farm track and away. I turned away, shivering. So that was it; what John had said was true: they were catching wild ponies and selling them for meat. It must be illegal, for them to be doing it at night like that.

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