Todd grinned, lifting the handles again. “No worries.” He then headed off towards the fields.
***
Blake sat at his desk twiddling his thumbs as the time reached 11:30 am. He hated being stuck for something to do but knew his office was the right place to be in just in case Vincent popped by to close the deal.
He glanced at the clock at least a dozen times before the handles faced upwards; the sight welcoming as his phone rang. He picked it up; becoming edgy after being told that an elderly gentleman from the bank was waiting to see him; his hands sweating as a feeling of guilt burned his insides.
Blake didn’t want anybody finding out what he was up to as the fertiliser wasn’t his to sell.
He quickly replaced the phone and raced for the door, attempting to reach Vincent before he gave the game away. But, by the time he’d entered the main part of the building, Vincent was laughing with a female receptionist. His voice was loud and deep. It sent shivers down Blake’s spine.
He closed in to pull Vincent away, but the banker pulled back, becoming unimpressed by Blake’s attempt to get him on his own.
“Hey, what’s the problem?” Vincent rushed from his mouth. “Can’t you see, I’m having a lovely chat with this lady.” He turned to the woman and pointed at her. “…I don’t think you discussed your name.”
“Vera,” she replied smiling.
“Thank you, Vera. It was delightful chatting to you but I must be off, I have some business to attend to.”
He followed Blake to a quiet corner, frowning as he waited for him to speak, but Blake was still anxious as he wiped sweaty hands down his trousers.
“Did you tell her why you’re here?”
“What do you take me for? …I know you shouldn’t be selling the fertiliser to me,” Vincent replied, gripping Blake’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get you into trouble.” He scrunched up his nose and grinned. “You did say seventy-five pounds, didn’t you?”
Blake bit his lip. He knew Vincent had him over a barrel and there was nothing he could do about it, so, just nodded quickly in case Vincent decided to lower the amount.
“Okay. You win. But my wife still gets out early…Is that a deal?”
“Deal... I’ll let her go at three…I’ll get cover for her.” Vincent became impatient like he needed to see the fertiliser now. “Well, my friend, it's good doing business with you but where is it?”
“Keep your voice down,” Blake snapped at him. “Where’s your car parked?”
“It’s just outside.”
“Good. It’s close…Drive up to the main gates and wait for me. I’ll fetch you your bag.”
They separated, leaving the building, as Blake aimed for the gates whilst Vincent sat rubbing his hands together in his car. He eagerly watched Blake open the storage barn as a vision formed inside his mind of what to grow once the fertiliser did its thing, but Blake suddenly stalled to worry him. He noticed Blake was checking for people; making sure the coast was clear before disappearing out of sight, and, as he did it, Vincent grinned. But the grin became broader after seeing Blake return carrying a sack over his shoulder. He flipped fingers back and forth until Vincent stuck up a thumb.
He reversed the car slowly to park it next to Blake before unlocking the boot to see him open it; hearing the sack crash down to bring joy to his heart. He waited for Blake to close the boot, knowing he was fidgeting like he expected someone to catch him. But, he finally shut it down to appear at the driver’s side window.
“Done…Now pay and go,” Blake huffed. “I don’t want you talking about this.”
Vincent smiled again and turned the key.
“Of course I won’t.” He held out the money and Blake snatched it quickly. “You have my word. Karen will leave early today…”
Blake nodded.
“…I’d best be off. I’ve got some gardening to attend to.”
Blake raised a hand as Vincent drove away.
FIVE
Vincent parked outside his house, reaching for his phone as chills of enthusiasm about getting the compost onto his garden still poured through him. He dialled the bank, smiling when the phone was answered; knowing the voice was of the person he wanted to speak to.
“This is your dirty little secret coming back to haunt you.”
Karen held the phone away from her after thinking that the call was from a perverted prankster until it suddenly dawned on her that she recognised who it was. She cringed as the phone returned to her ear, feeling unsure about how to respond.
“Excuse me. Who’s this?” she asked, pretending it was a customer.
“It’s me, Vincent. Who’d you think it was?”
“I thought it was you, but you don’t usually phone from outside the bank.”
“I know, but this is important…I won’t be back in today.”
“Why?” Karen asked as confusion struck her. “Are you okay? …Your head’s not hurting again, is it?”
“No, no, nothing like that…Just hold the fort for me until three o’clock.”
“Why? What’s happening at three?”
“You’re going home.” Vincent laughed. “My orders…You just need to bring in some cover…You’ve got two and a half hours.”
“Okay. Whatever you say…See you tomorrow then.”
“Oh! One more thing before I attend to my garden…If anybody asks to speak to me and it sounds urgent just pass on my mobile number, but don’t mention why I’m not there…Be a good girl and you’ll be rewarded…Bye.”
Karen cringed again after the phone went silent as thoughts of what kind of reward Vincent was thinking of made her feel nauseous.
***
Vincent pulled the compost bag from the boot of his car, puffing and panting as it was placed on the ground. He knew he was out of shape but was determined to get it to his back garden. He took a deep breath before picking up the bag and carrying it; his legs shaking, leaving him staggering as he reached the back gate. He put the bag down, opened the gate and entered his house via the kitchen door, listening out for his wife and smiling because she wasn’t home. He knew she would’ve given him a lecture if she’d seen him struggling with the bag.
He walked upstairs to change; finding his gardening dungarees at the bottom of a drawer before throwing them onto the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn them so hoped they still fit. He stripped off his suit and got into the dungarees; eyeing up a straw hat resting on the top of a wardrobe before reaching for it to place on his head. He then opened the wardrobe and grabbed his gardening boots.
He was ready to tackle the dreaded back garden that he’d not set foot on in the past six months.
Vincent exited the house, reaching for the bag by the gate before dragging it towards the edge of the garden, but stalled after looking at it. He thought back to a year ago when his mother attended it before sighing because the flowers she planted were no longer there; close to shedding a tear after viewing the spot where she collapsed.
Six months later she was dead.
His mother was the keen gardener. She was the one who’d taken great care in keeping it perfect because he’d always make an excuse not to help. It hurt him deeply when he thought about it, knowing he could have aided her more before her stroke last September. So, today he would revitalise the garden in honour of her.
He turned to stare at the house that originally belonged to his mother before awkwardly glancing at the top end of the garden; seeing beyond the overgrown weeds to visualise her grave. That was where she was buried. At the top of the garden. It was written in her Will to be laid to rest on the property she was born in, but Vincent didn’t welcome the decision with open arms. It had taken him a few months to get his head around it, and now, another few months later was one step closer to touching her headstone again.
Vincent felt his mother was watching him from her new home; her vision digging into him with every step he took to make him feel anxious to want to retreat to the
house. But he stayed strong and walked over to the shed.
***
He looked at his watch to find an hour had passed; sighing because only a quarter of the garden was weeded. He shook his head, wiping a handkerchief across his brow; examining a large refuse sack to see it full of weeds, thistles, and litter that had blown onto the garden. But the back gate opening spooked him. He turned to see his wife carrying shopping into the kitchen, smiling at him through the window before heading back outside.
“What are you doing?” Mary asked, reaching the garden. “I never thought I’d see the day when you would come out here again.”
Vincent wiped more sweat from his brow as he smiled at his wife of thirty years. Mary had retired a few years ago, so never did much apart from housework, cooking, and the weekly or daily shop. She was Vincent’s rock and sidekick; always there when he needed her. But she never knew he had changed since the robbery.
“Hello, dear,” Vincent said, dropping a rake. “Yeah, I know…I never thought I’d see the day either, but today I decided to attend to it.” He folded the handkerchief and wiped his brow again, feeling tired as he puffed out his cheeks. “I know I’ve been stupid about my mother’s grave being on here, but I’m okay now. She wouldn’t want me leaving it a mess, so I’m not going to.”
“I see you’ve made a start. I’m glad for you…But don’t overdo it.”
“Yes, dear. You have my word.”
“Good.” Mary grinned. “Well, I’d better leave you to it before you change your mind.”
Vincent picked up the rake. “Not today. Today is a great day to do some gardening.”
Mary turned to walk away. “Do you fancy a glass of your favourite wine? I’ve just bought a bottle.”
“No thanks, love,” Vincent said quickly. “I’ll be fine…I’ll see you inside soon.”
***
Vincent moved more swiftly but was tiring again after another thirty minutes.
He stared at the garden, cursing under his breath for only managing to complete the weeding on half of it before walking over to the shed; returning quickly holding a bucket and trowel to drop next to the fertiliser bag. He reached into a pocket on his dungarees, retrieving a Stanley knife before slicing the bag open, then scooping out the contents into the bucket.
“This better work,” he said, scattering the compost over the weeded part of the garden.
He grabbed the garden fork and mixed it into the dirt before stopping to admire his progress.
“I will finish this off tomorrow,” he said, panting as he placed the fork into the wheelbarrow. “This is too tiring to finish today.”
He reached for the other tools and did the same before wheeling the barrow over to the fertiliser bag, but scratched his head at how he was going to pick it up? He sighed, checking if Mary was watching; pleased she wasn’t as he attempted to bend down. But his back hurt before his hands touched the bag.
“Damn! I can’t leave this stuff out in the open.”
He breathed in deeply and tried again, grimacing in pain as he reached for the bag; dropping it into the barrow before puffing out his cheeks from exhaustion. He then wheeled it inside the shed, closed the door and locked it.
“Vince, love, could you put your dirty dungarees by the washing machine. I’ll wash them later,” Mary shouted from the next room after hearing Vincent enter the house.
“I wouldn’t bother washing today if I were you. The sky’s clouding over. It looks like it’ll rain,” Vincent replied, removing his dungarees and hat.
“It looked okay earlier. Are you sure it’s going to rain?”
“If you don’t believe me then take a look outside.”
Mary entered the kitchen, laughing after seeing Vincent with just his underwear on.
“Put it away,” she cried out.
Vincent laughed back; throwing the hat at her.
“Once upon a time you would’ve told me to get it out.”
“Vincent!” Mary hollered. “Stop being rude.”
She huffed, staring out the window as a huge black cloud formed to darken the sky in seconds. She thought it looked strange, something unfamiliar, but, as she watched on, witnessed smaller clouds join onto it.
“Get ready for some thunder and lightning dear. You’re right about the weather.”
Vincent closed in as the sound of thunder shook his bones.
“That doesn’t look normal,” he cried out, gripping onto Mary.
“I was thinking the same.” Mary shrieked as more thunder arrived.
“It’s like a freak of nature,” Vincent shockingly said, as rain pelted against the windows, splashing them with force. “Jeez! I hope they don’t break.”
In the space of just five minutes, the garden looked more like a swimming pool than a plot of land ready for seeding.
Vincent shook his head, keeping Mary close as he watched on in amazement. He felt hypnotised from the mixture of darkness and light portraying in the sky as lightning flashes reminded him of fireworks.
“Don’t worry, love,” Mary said, smiling awkwardly. “The garden could do with some watering.”
“Mary, are you taking the piss?” Vincent let go of her. “I’ve just wasted nearly two hours getting it ready and now my new compost’s just been washed away…So please, don’t tell me it’s fine because the garden could do with some watering.”
Vincent never normally swore at Mary, but when he did, she knew he was upset.
“I’m sorry dear. I didn’t mean to annoy you.”
Vincent mellowed again. He knew it wasn’t Mary’s fault it was raining like a waterfall.
“It’s alright,” he said, hugging her tight again. “I’ll just have to do it again on another day.”
“But right now I need you to put some clothes on.”
Vincent laughed. He’d forgotten he was almost naked.
***
Mary entered the kitchen, peering at the clock as the time reached 3:00 pm. She listened to the rain still pelting down as she opened the fridge, grabbing food to make Vincent’s lunch. He was meant to be on a strict diet, but Mary knew he would accidentally on purpose forget if he was in charge of making his food.
Vincent sat in the living room with the TV remote in his hand. He was about to turn the TV on but the roar of more thunder spooked him.
I’d better not. Knowing my luck lightning would strike the aerial and blow my TV up, he thought, placing the remote down.
He sat back as Mary brought in his lunch, but his face drooped at what she’d prepared. He wasn’t impressed.
“Here you go, love. Get this down ya’,” she said, grinning slyly; handing a sandwich on a plate over to him.
Vincent smiled weakly. He knew his life was under threat if he didn’t eat properly, so didn’t want to let Mary down, but sometimes, the food she gave him tasted disgusting.
“Cheers love. It looks tasty…Yum, yum.”
Mary slapped him on the shoulder, huffing as Vincent prodded the sandwich.
“It’s not going to jump up and bite you,” she said, tutting. “Just eat it…”
Vincent pulled many faces as he lifted the bread he hated so much; appearing sorrowful after not seeing any meat, cheese or butter.
“…Go on, you can do it. Just take a bite.”
Vincent grumbled before picking up one of the sandwiches; taking several bites quickly to please Mary.
“Happy now?” he spurted out, as breadcrumbs fell onto the plate.
Mary just winked at him.
Vincent finished off the sandwich and yawned.
“I’m whacked…I think I’ll have a lie-down.”
“Okay,” Mary replied. “I’ll wake you when dinner’s nearly ready…You’re going to love what I’ve got planned.”
Vincent pulled another face before handing her the plate.
SIX
Blake and Karen couldn’t avoid the rain on their journey home. It had hit them hard to leave them soaked, making them look like two drenched p
eople who’d just been swimming in their clothing. But now they had dried themselves off and had changed.
They huddled close to peer out of a window, seeing rainwater the size of ping-pong balls viciously splash onto pavements as drainpipes up and down the street gushed out water. There was no sign of a human or animal on the street. Even the birds had flown off in search of somewhere dry. No one was stupid enough to be caught up in this unless, like Karen and Blake, were heading home from somewhere.
“Looks like our celebrational dinner could be put on hold,” Blake said with a sigh. “Well, at least until the rain slows down.”
Karen shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m sure we can celebrate another day.”
But Blake knew she was disappointed.
He pulled her closer before walking away from the window, wracking his brain as he moved into the kitchen to open some cupboards. But Karen felt confused.
“What are you doing?” she worryingly asked. “Are you checking to see if I’ve hidden the whiskey again?”
“No,” Blake replied laughing. “I’m just checking to see where everything is.”
“Why?”
“In case I need a plan B for this evening.”
Karen smiled, even though she was still confused. She shook her head as Blake continued to search the kitchen cupboards, scrunching her lips when he finally stopped to place hands on his hips.
“Have you finished?”
“Yes, babe,” Blake replied nodding. “If the rain doesn’t slow down before six then I’ll make us a celebrational meal here…I promise.”
“How can I resist such an offer.”
“Problem solved then,” Blake said with a grin.
Last night had rekindled the flames of desire between the two of them but today, the rain was trying its best to put the flame out.
Blake placed a finger under her chin, lifting it to say, “I know you’re upset about the rain dampening our plans, but trust me.” He stared into her eyes. “If we can’t go to your favourite restaurant then I’ll make what you were going to order there…Just you wait and see.”
Clifton Falls: A Zombie Story [Part 1] Page 4