Graveyard to Hell by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins [Higgins, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-05-10T17:00:00+00:00

8

Miller came awake slowly and stared up at the ceiling through the early morning gloom. He checked his watch. It was just coming up to six and then he remembered that he was on a rest day. He gave a sigh of pleasure and turned over.

The outside door opened suddenly and as he struggled up on one elbow, there was laughter and the pounding of feet across the floor of the lounge. A moment later, the bedroom door was flung open and his nephews erupted into the room, a large and very eager Airedale leading the way.

The dog scrambled onto the bed and Miller shoved it away with a curse. ‘Get down, you brute.’

Tommy was eight and Roger ten and they moved in on him from both sides gurgling with laughter. ‘Come on, Uncle Nick, we’re taking Fritz to the park for a run.’

‘Not with me you aren’t,’ Miller said, hitching the blankets over his shoulders.

‘Uncle Nick, you promised.’

‘When?’

‘Oh, ages ago.’

Fritz leapt clear across the bed and circled the room briskly and Miller sighed. ‘All right, I know when I’m beaten. But get that brute out of here. You can wait for me in the yard.’

After they had gone, he went into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and dressed quickly in cord slacks, polo necked sweater and suede boots. He lit a cigarette and went outside.

His brother’s house stood in two acres of garden, a large Victorian villa in grey Yorkshire stone, and Miller’s flat was above the garage block at the rear. As he went down the fire escape, an engine roared into life inside the garage and the Mini-Cooper reversed into the yard.

Tommy and Fritz were in the rear, Roger at the wheel and Miller opened the door quickly and pushed him into the passenger seat. ‘Don’t you ever let your mother catch you doing that,’ he said. ‘You’ll get me shot.’

When they reached the park, they left the car near the main gates, but instead of going inside, walked down the road to the public playing fields where Miller released Fritz. The Airedale bounded away and the boys ran after him, shouting and laughing.

Miller followed at his own pace, hands in pockets. The morning was cold and grey and yet the wind was bracing and he felt alive again for the first time in weeks.

The boys had reached the line of iron railings that marked the boundary of the park. Suddenly Roger gave a cry that was echoed by Tommy and they disappeared over the skyline.

Miller hurried after them and when he squeezed through a gap in the fence and looked down into the sports arena, a man in a black track suit was running round the grass track, Fritz in hot pursuit. Roger and Tommy were hopping about in the centre calling ineffectually.

By the time Miller reached the bottom of the hill the runner had secured a grip on Fritz’s collar and was leading him to the boys. They stood together in a little group and Miller heard a burst of laughter.

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