THE FARM!

Chapter 13

The darkness at the back of the hideout seemed to be intensified by the sheer luminescence streaming in through the slatted doors in sharp streaks of pure sunlight. The gurgling sound of the water draining from the pool had all but subsided apart from the occasional belch or gulp as if from some giant herbivore digesting its meal. The clamour of the silence was building to an oppressive crescendo.
It had been but a few minutes since the family had witnessed Pip surrounded by armed guards but it felt like an eternity as they crouched, silent, in the blank darkness of the pool house. What was happening to Pip could only be a projection of their stressed and fevered imaginations. Was he even still alive?
Hamish weighed up the odds. There had been no gunshot. That was something positive, at least. But no shouting either; was that good... or was that bad? No, that was simply odd – neither good nor bad. Then he felt the searching embracing warmth of Susan's hand and soon the whole family was crouched, huddled up together in fear, but also for comfort, waiting for some indication as to Pip's fate.
But Pip would not betray them, surely?
No, perhaps not, but then these people had their methods and they were ruthless. That had been frighteningly demonstrated already. Then they heard a voice, definitely not Pip's. The dulcet, undulating tones of softly spoken English reverberated across the flagstones. But it was impossible to make out anything that it said with any clarity.
Hamish very slowly released himself from the vice like grip of his petrified family and crept sloth-like across the uneven surface of the pump room. Curiosity had got the better of him. He became anxious to hear what was going on despite his inability to influence or control whatever it was fate had decreed for himself and his family.
The voice was definitely upper class and seemed to be attempting to explain something. The individual words began to become intelligible and then a laugh, but not a vindictive or malicious laugh, more the friendly lightheartedness of a business sales executive attempting to put a person at their ease. The words floated through the air and began to arrange themselves into staccato phrases and semi-sentences and were now just about clear enough for Hamish to extract some semblance of meaning.
"You're safe now – no need to worry – must talk to everyone – trust – I promise you – all taken care of."
Then Hamish perceived rather than heard the group moving slowly closer. The words became clearer, only this time it was definitely Pip's voice that he heard.
"But how do I know I can trust you?"
And then the quietly spoken reply, laced with charm, and a genial bonhomie.
"Now look here old son, just think about it for a moment. From what you've told me already, you'd be dead by now if we had any malicious intent."
"S'pose," Pip replied in a feeble and hesitant manner.
"We just need to touch base with your friends, hear their story – that sort of thing. So we can start piecing all this stuff together. You know – everything that's happened here. Like I said, we're here to help you and to make sure everything's okay."
Hamish felt cold trails of sweat trickling down under his shirt as he sat rigid in a tremor of white blinding fear; finding himself inextricably short of breath as he wondered for just a moment if Pip was going to be fooled by this. Then he thought back to his own teenage naivety and wondered what he would have done in the same situation. He was not optimistic, and did not have to wait long for the answer.
Just moments later the door was ripped open leaving Hamish stunned and wildly blinking as the strong morning sunlight cut savagely into the recesses of the blackness. The screaming of the girls huddled together at the rear was almost deafening after the prolonged silence. It was clear to Hamish that the game was up.
"Please don't be alarmed," a cultured voice announced in perfect Queens English. "I'm here to help. Please come out from this filthy hole and we'll try and get all of this straightened out. I think there's been some terrible misunderstanding."
At which the girls rushed eagerly forward, only too happy to believe that help was finally at hand and that an end to this nightmare was in sight. Hamish hung back, reticent and suspicious, not quite trusting this smooth talking, suave, former public schoolboy.
"Please rest assured that I am only here to help you. Heathcote Drummond-Willoughby, at your service, deputy vice-consul for the British Embassy. I have the full support and cooperation of the local authorities here in Antalya. We'll get you lot cleaned up and back to civilization, but before we do, we need to get to the bottom of what's been going on here. Please come with me and I'll take you to our local outpost here in the south where we can have a little chat. There is really absolutely nothing to be concerned about."
At this the family followed Drummond-Willoughby – Mum leading the way and chatting away in an unguarded manner to their apparent benefactor as though she had known him all her life. They walked across the flag-stoned pool area and mounted the steps leading to the Atrium of the hotel reception followed at a respectful distance by the now, 'at ease,' security personnel that nonetheless still formed a tightly packed screen around their leader and the beleaguered family. Hamish, deeply suspicious, but having no immediate option but to comply, followed up the rear.
Drummond-Willoughby held the door open politely for the family to enter and as they passed inside he turned back roughly to the headman with a very changed expression, snarling an order in hushed tones. "Get this fucking lot cleaned up. We can't have this kind of evidence left lying around. What are you thinking of? And get rid of the blood. Just leave the place looking disused. Smash a few things up but leave no trace of recent habitation – "Anlamak?"
A brisk nod of the head was the only reply before the headman raced off with his small team to begin the work with Drummond-Willoughby hissing down the steps. "You have two hours max, then everybody out, you follow? So throw everyone you have at it."
"Evet," and they were gone, fanning out across the pool area.
The family entered the now stripped Atrium to find more security staff standing around looking as though they had very little to do. Drummond-Willoughby entered after having given his instructions to the security troop.
Turning to the family and with the friendliest of smiles but with the glint of highly polished but artificial teeth, exclaimed. "Now my friends. What on earth are we going to do with you?"