Tom thought this was an excellent idea—& I was rather fl attered by Frans keenness to see me again. (OK—I know—Im anybodys for a kind word!) Also I wouldnt mind seeing the inside of the Avalon—so I said—why not?—giving Franny my best smile.
—great—he said—look forward to seeing you then—
—me too—I said—meaning it.
Dont know whats happening to me! Maybe Sandytowns one of those magic places—like Brigadoon or Oz—that you stray into—then get taken over by.
T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 9 3
Yes—thats it—definitely a magic place. But what color magic Im not yet sure!
Write soon before I forget the real world out there!
Lots of love
Charley xxxx
13
How do, Mildred!
Don’t recall when I’ve slept for so long if you don’t count being in a coma! Must have needed it ’cos when I woke up this morning I felt more like my old self than any time since I’ve been here. Went for my physio session with Tony. Said he were pleased and suggested I finish with a massage. I said no thanks, thinking it were one thing doing knee bends with Tony on hand to steady me if I keeled over, quite another to be lying on my face with my bum in the air while he took a running jump at me!
Then this strapping blonde appeared, lovely smile, said her name was Stiggi and she was sure she could help me, wouldn’t I change my mind? So I did.
It were grand, nice and relaxing. Too relaxing. Suddenly, lying there facedown with her straddling me back, I realized I were close to embarrassing myself, so when she tried to turn me over, I let on I’d dozed off.
She wandered off to do something and I scrambled into my jimjams and dressing gown. Hadn’t got dressed so fast since that time thirty-odd years back when I were banging Sergeant Pocklington’s missus and I heard his size fifteens coming up the stairs! All I need now is a bit more red meat on my plate and I’ll soon be ready to make Cap eat her Hang about. I’m coming . . . oh, its you.
Hi there, Mr. Dalziel! How’re you doing? Hearing good things about you so I thought I’d drop by to check you out for myself . . .
Oh aye? Well, take a look, lad. What you see is what you get, isn’t that what them ET anoraks say?
T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 9 5
IT I think you mean. Yes, they do, but it doesn’t really apply in my line of business any more than I expect it does in yours. We both know there’s no art to read the mind’s construction in the face, right?
If you’re trying to say you need to be a trick cyclist to be a good cop, you’ve come to the wrong shop. I’m not saying it never comes in useful, but I’ve got clever buggers working under me to do the fancy stuff. Me, its collars I’m interested in fingering, not souls.
Souls? Interesting choice of word, Mr. Dalziel.
Sorry. Limited vocabulary. Don’t have the Latin so I’ve got to make what I do have go a long way.
I believe it. And it’s a journey I’d like to make with you if you let me.
To lay it on the line, Mr. Dalziel, physically you seem to be back on track after your little glitch. You’re looking good . . .
I’d look a lot better if they stopped feeding me like a prize grey-hound.
I’ll talk to them. But as I was saying, how fast you’re recovering from the mental trauma of your experience only you can say. I hope pretty soon you’ll trust me enough to feel able to say it, but that’s entirely up to you. How’re you doing with the audio diary, by the way?
Eh? Oh that recorder thing. Sorry, went right out of my mind. Can’t even recollect where I put the bloody thing.
That’s okay. I’m sure it will turn up. So, before I go, anything I can do for you other than seeing you get more red meat on your plate?
One thing, there’s a guy lives locally, name of Parker. Says he comes up here sometimes.
Tom Parker? Oh yes, I know Tom well. Important man around here.
He’s got big plans for Sandytown, he and his partner, Lady Denham.
9 6
R E G I N A L D H I L L
Her in the pub? You’re not saying he’s shacked up with her? Nay, I met his missus, at least I assumed she were his missus . . .
No, sorry, I was using partner in its old prepermissive sense. Their union has much to do with Mammon and nothing at all with Hymen.
No need to talk dirty. Any road, I owe him twenty quid. Mebbe if I gave it to you, you could pass it on?
Happily. But better still, I’m having a little get-together tomorrow at lunchtime. Tom Parker has persuaded me that the Avalon ought to play a major role in this Festival of Health he’s organiz ing to launch the hotel. We’re meeting, some of my staff and his alternative therapists, to make sure we all understand our roles. Afterward there’ll be drinks and snacks and there’ll be a few other people there to help things along. I’d be delighted if you could join us, and if you did, then you could repay your own debt, couldn’t you? I’m a great believer in a man repaying his own debts; that, in some ways, is what my work is all about. So, won’t you come?
I’ll think about it.
Excellent. Nice to talk with you, Mr. Dalziel. About one o’clock.
Petula will show you the way.
Handy little gadget this. Didn’t realize I’d left it running when I shoved it in my pocket after Festerwhanger tapped at the door. It’s picked up every word him and me said.
Dead sensitive, like me!
Not that hiding it fooled old weasel eyes. I reckon he’d been listening at the door for a couple of minutes afore he knocked. Played it back to be sure and there it was, red meat on my plate. Coincidence?
Mebbe. But I’ll take more care from now on. Simplest would be to toss the bloody thing into the sea. But, fair do’s, it could be the bugger’s on to something with this talking to myself thing. Admit it, Dalziel, your bollocks might be back to twitch mode, but you’re still T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 9 7
not right in your head, not while you keep having these funny dreams about talking to God!
Mebbe its that postmenstrual traumatic sin thing they go on about these days. Likely there’s a lot of it about in a place like this, so no wonder if I’ve caught a dose.
Any road, if yakking about it helps, nowt wrong with yakking. But I’m definitely not going to spill my guts to yon Yankee wanker!
Jesus, there it goes again. Knock knock knock. Who’s there, in the name of Beelzebub? All right, I’m coming. There’d be less traffic living on Scotch Corner roundabout.
Oh, hello, matron.
Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Dalziel, but Dr. Feldenhammer said you were having some problem with your diet.
Only problem is seeing it, luv. I’m a growing lad. I need fettling.
I won’t argue with you there. Can I be frank with you, Mr. Dalziel?
Long as it don’t involve dressing up in leather.
You have a large frame, and I can understand your desire to fill it again. But this might be a good time to take stock and ask yourself if you really want to put back on all the weight you lost during your recent unfortunate experience.
How do you know how much I weighed before?
We have your medical records. No one comes to the Avalon without a complete legend.
So I’m a legend, am I? I’ll tell you what, luv. You fatten me up till I reach what you think is my legendary shape, then we’ll see how we get on from there, okay?
That sounds reasonable. Now I gather I’m to escort you to Dr. Feldenhammer’s lunch meeting tomorrow.
9 8
R E G I N A L D H I L L
If you’re Petula, that’s right, matron.
Yes, that is my name. My title, incidentally, isn’t matron. I am Head of Nursing Care and usually I’m addressed as Mrs. Sheldon.
But I bet you’re undressed as Pet, right? Nay, don’t look offended, not when you’ve got such a bonny smile. That’s better. Let’s start again. If we’re go
ing out together, I’m going to call you Pet. And if you’re going to get me back to my proper shape, you can call me Adonis. But Andy will do if you’re worried about folk talking.
Andy it is. Will you be up to walking to the clinic, Andy? Or shall I bring a chair for you?
Ee, I do love a cheeky woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I fancy a shower. Don’t suppose you’d like to come in with me? I’ve got these muscle pains when I try to scrub my back.
I’m sorry to hear that, Andy, but it would be more than my job’s worth.
Oh, I think I could guarantee that, Pet.
Who’s a big mouth then? One little twitch when the beautiful Stiggi’s straddling your bum and you’re making like Don Juan! And it were only a few days back you were thinking that lass would have made a good concentration camp warder! Funny how feeling better changes your view of folk. Reminds me of summat Pete Pascoe once said when I wanted to haul someone into the Factory for questioning. Let’s start him off at home, he said. Once you feel like a prisoner, everyone looks like a guard.
Clever clogs were right, as per usual! I don’t feel like a prisoner anymore and I can see yon Pet’s not a bad-looking woman, specially now I’ve got her to crack her face.
Time for that shower. What’s that, Mildred? Better make it a cold one?
Just for that you’re going back in the cistern!
Over and out!
14
FROM:
[email protected]
TO:
[email protected]
SUBJECT: the hunk & his handle!
Hi!
Really pleased to hear from you—was getting worried—but not as worried as I would have been if Id known! No—nothing on the news here—small African hospital under mortar fire—no one dead—doesnt hit the headlines. Just as well maybe—for mum & dads sake I mean—saves a lot of brick walls from being banged!
Anyway—I feel real guilty—lounging around here—in what must be the safest healthiest place in the world—boring you with my rustic rollickings!
But you say it helps keep you on an even keel knowing theres still places like sleepy little Sandytown in the world—so heres the next exciting episode!
Or rather the next several episodes—each centered on a man—just so you dont get the impression youve got exclusive rights!
First Teddy—the hunk with the handle—literally!—as I have seen—& you will hear!
Weather was so warm today—I thought Id head for the beach—see if it had improved since the famous trip!
Tom was too busy to join me—thank
heaven—I wanted to swim not
talk—or rather listen! He said this was the day hed fixed for Mr Godley—the healer—to drive over & take a look at the setup in Sandytown—& he hoped Id be back in time to meet him—as he knew how it would help with my study—which Im finally making a bit of progress with. Remembering how Godly Gordon took against me first time we met—I dont anticipate much encouragement there—but of course I said I hoped so too.
1 0 0
R E G I N A L D H I L L
Tom also said—rather awkwardly—re the meeting at the Avalon—Charlotte—as it is mainly—nay
solely—concerned with the alternative
therapists—we—that is Lester Feldenhammer & myself—deemed it unnecessary to invite Lady Denham—so—should you chance into her company—it might be diplomatic not to say anything about it!—
Playing with fire there—Tom—I thought. But I was rather flattered to find myself part of a Sandytown conspiracy—so I said—no bother!—& my reward was that big boyish smile.
The kids were off doing their own thing somewhere—so I didnt have to offer to take them—which was a relief. My dip in the hotel pool had whetted my appetite for a real swim—not paddling around in the shallows—keeping an eye on young Parkers.
So off I went—cozzie on under a wrap—towel over my shoulder.
Only a fifteen minute walk down into the village—might take a bit longer coming back up the hill—I thought—but sufficient is the evil—remember?
Met quite a few people who said hello—more than Im likely to meet in Willingden—being Tom Parkers guest gets you on the social register big time!
The beach was pretty crowded. School
hols—lots of
families—an ice
cream
van—a burger
stall—deck
chairs—all the usual stuff for screwing
money out of people. I guessed the Hope & Anchor was doing a pretty good business too. All in all—Sandytown looks like its booming. Good news for the consortium—Tom delighted because the prosperity gets shared around—
Lady D because she sees her investment paying out big.
Mary—in her oblique way—has made it quite clear that civic responsibility doesnt figure large in Lady Ds worldview. Profits the thing. With her own family money—plus the Hollis fortune—she could lounge her life away in luxury. But a lots never enough for the rich. She wants even more!
Sorry—boring!
But you can wake up now. Im getting close to the beach—& the hunk!
Like I say—it was crowded—so I wandered along to the farthest extreme of the bay—marked by a rocky outcrop running out into the sea from the foot of North Cliff. You could probably get round the end of this at low tide—but T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 0 1
now—with the tide well up—tho retreating—it created a bit of a barrier—reinforced by a sign on a steel post driven into the rock which warned—NO PUBLIC
ACCESS—PRIVATE BEACH.
This was just the kind of thing the HB would have erected! So naturally I went scrambling up there without a moments hesitation!
From the top of the outcrop—I found myself looking down on to another bay—much smaller than Sandytowns—but also a lot emptier. In fact there were only four people there—& I wasnt too surprised to see they were Lady Denham—Teddy & his sister—& Clara Brereton.
The younger ones were wearing swimming costumes—Clara a polka dot bikini—that showed her boobs & bum to advantage—slender she might be—but even malice couldnt call her skinny. Lovely pale skin—dont know what sunblock she uses but its worth every penny to keep that lovely pearly glow—probably bathes in asses milk every morning. Stopped feeling sorry for her—even if she does have to skivvy for Lady D!
Esther was in a black one piece—revealing she was no frump either—though while Claras
charms—asses milk
apart—look all
natural—I
guess Ests are the best money could buy.
Meow!
Mind—I had to look at her twice—because—sitting at Lady Ds feet—looking up at the old
bat—& listening to her with every sign of interest & pleasure—it was hard to recognize the sourpuss Id encountered the previous day. Once again I was put in mind of the sweaty laughing girl Id seen at the Bengel bar disco.
Her ladyship was—naturally—enthroned in a canvas directors chair—with the others—naturally—occupying rugs on the sand.
Teddy—yes Im getting to the meat of my tale—was sprawled alongside Clara—almost but not quite touching—looking up at her with what—even at a distance—I recognized as hot bedroom eyes. She was sitting on her haunches—holding her two yards of shapely leg close to her body—as if scared any relaxation would invite an immediate assault on her pudenda—
though whether it was concern for her
honor—or awareness of Lady Ds
proximity—that kept her virtuous—I couldnt tell.
1 0 2
R E G I N A L D H I L L
& Teddy the bart? Im happy to say—he isnt one of those prezzies where the wrapping promises more than the gift. Long—lean—as beautifully brown as Clara is gorgeously white—all of his contours muscle—enough hair on his chest to be interesting but well this side of apish—in short—or indeed at length—a dish.
I wa
s going to beat a retreat—but drinking in Teddys delights—
objectively!—kept me there longer than I meant—& suddenly Lady Ds beady eyes clocked me.
Theres someone there—she boomed—damn cheek!
They all looked—then Teddy
rose to his feet—one
movement—like a
panther—except they dont stand on the hind legs—do they?—but you know what I mean! He cried out—its Charley!—hey Charley—come on down here & join us!—
Might have made an excuse & left—but I saw Sister Esthers face congeal from dimpling attentiveness to pack- ice mode—& that did it!
—Hi—I said—scrambling down—didnt mean to intrude—but the beach back there is absolutely packed—
Bit of an exaggeration—but without thinking Id pushed the right button for Lady D—to whom bodies on the beach ultimately translates into boodle in the bank—& she said—never mention it—my dear—any friend of Toms is always welcome here—
Clara smiled up at me—while Esther gave me a twitch of a nod—then—
unfreezing her face—turned back to Lady D & said—now auntie—you mustnt lose your thread—not when you were telling me the fascinating story of your plans for the estate—
I was trying to work out how to sit close to Teddy—without drawing too much attention to the contrast between my kitchen table legs—& Claras works of art—when he solved the problem by saying—youve obviously come to swim—ready for a dip now?—come on!—
He grabbed my hand & started leading me down the beach.
I said—what about Clara?—& he said—oh shes all right—needs to stick close in case auntie needs her back scratched—or something fetched from the hall—
T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 1 0 3
I glanced back—& up. The cliff rose steep & bare for about 80 feet—with a zigzag path marked by a guardrail—& then for the next 40 or 50 feet the incline became easier—with lots of greenery now—till presumably it flattened into the grounds of the hall. Quite a trip to send someone to fetch the han-kie youd forgotten! Dont expect that would worry Lady D though—& to give her her due—it was quite a climb—up & down—for someone her age. Must be fit as a butchers dog—as the HB likes to say!
D&P23 - The Price of Butcher's Meat aka A Cure for all Diseases Page 11