Divorced and Deadly

by Josephine Cox

  ‘So, have you got a girlfriend?’ Boldly flashing her cleavage, Joanna had my full attention.

  ‘No girlfriend!’ That was some cleavage! Honest to God, it was like the Swiss Alps down there!

  ‘Are you gay?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m aware. Nope!’

  ‘So you’re free and easy?’

  ‘Yup! Easy as they come.’

  ‘D’you like me?’

  ‘Sure do!’

  ‘You sound like Johnny Cash.’

  ‘Is that good or bad?’

  ‘It would have been good if he’d been younger, but he’s old now.’

  ‘I see.’ I decided not to tell her Johnny Cash was actually dead.

  ‘Can you sing?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Johnny Cash sings good. I like his songs, but I don’t like old men.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’ She wouldn’t like dead men, either!

  ‘So you see, Ben? Hey! That is your real name, isn’t it?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes. Although if I’d been given the choice, it would have been something else.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t get the choice, did I?’

  ‘Aw, go on! What name would you have liked…if you’d had the choice that is?’

  ‘Dunno.’ I gave a shrug, just to let her know I was not about to be drawn into her silly game. Like all women she was out to humiliate me!

  ‘You’re not being nice to me, Ben.’

  She was turning on the sulks like they all do!

  ‘Shall I guess what name you would have chosen?’

  ‘You can if you like, but you’ll never guess.’

  ‘Thomas?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Jack?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I’m not telling. You’ll only laugh.’

  ‘I won’t! She made the sign. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die!’

  ‘Oh, all right then!’

  ‘So, go on then…what name would you have chosen?’

  I cleared my throat, ‘Duke!’

  Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Duke!’

  ‘Yes…Duke!’

  ‘So, what’s your surname?’

  ‘Buskin.’

  ‘Huh!’

  ‘What’s with the “huh”?’

  ‘I was just thinking, that’s all.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘Duke…Buskin.’ She began to giggle. ‘Duke Buskin…Duke Buskin, it sounds really funny!’ And then she was laughing out loud, rocking back and forth.

  ‘I though you said you wouldn’t laugh!’

  ‘I lied!’

  She sat up and I turned away in disgust. ‘Oh, Ben, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, and anyway your real name is so much nicer…Ben Buskin, yes, it’s got a real strong ring to it.’

  She had me now. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I do, yes.’

  ‘Thank you. No one’s ever said that before.’

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you really like me? I mean…really!’

  I looked her up and down. ‘Well, yes, of course I do.’ Play it cool, Ben, I told myself. Don’t be too eager. She’s like all women. If you show too much interest, she’ll have you.

  ‘I like you too.’ I reckon she’d had her teeth whitened, because when she smiled, I could see myself in her canines.

  ‘That’s nice to know,’ But be careful, Ben! Let a woman see you’re keen, and she’ll have you tied up and under her thumb before you even know it. Look at my ex! No thank you! I’ve been there, done that; and I do not want to be doing it again!

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you like to go to bed?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not ready to go to sleep just yet.’ I had other things on my mind.

  ‘NO!’ She gave a loud sigh. ‘I didn’t mean that!’

  ‘What did you mean then?’

  ‘I meant…would you like to go to bed…with me?’

  There really was no answer to that, except to nod and hope for the best.

  ‘Lead on!’ I managed to keep my voice calm and matter of fact, when all the time I wanted to punch my fist in the air and yell so loud that my ex would hear me, and anyone else who doubted that I could ever again get myself a decent girl!

  I managed to stay cool, when all the time I wanted to run and leap. Only the way things were it might have been a bit painful.

  ‘Come on then, big boy.’ She took my hand and we climbed up to the cabin, where she told me not to worry about my missing trouser belt (which was a blatant invite if ever I’ve heard one!).

  Just as we were getting settled, pandemonium broke out!

  First, music exploded from the front of the van, and then Battersby was barking like mad. ‘Hey you two…whatever you’re up to, leave it for now!’ Dickie shouted up. ‘Get yourselves down here! There’s a party kicking off!’

  Cut off just as I was getting somewhere, I scampered off the bed and led Joanna to the front of the van. ‘We were just getting to know each other!’ I moaned at Dickie. ‘What’s going on?’

  When he grandly stepped aside, I saw why they’d pulled the curtains shut. It was a surprise. The sofa was laid with a cloth and spread with all kinds of goodies: cream crackers and dips, a plate of cheese straws, little sausage rolls, and other titbits, all laid out and backed up with bottles of drink. ‘Where did you get all that?’ It was amazing.

  ‘We’re always ready for a party!’ That was Frankie. ‘Me and Joanna, we’re free spirits. We go where we like, do what we like, and we can stop anywhere, cos we’ve got wheels and we’ve got music!’ And to illustrate her point, she turned the sound up full volume, and it all kicked off. All the sixties and seventies hits: the Rolling Stones, Elvis the pelvis, and other good stuff, which makes you want to jump about, even if you’d rather be doing something else.

  In the background, Battersby was barking and whining so much, I had to lean out the van and tell him in no uncertain terms to be quiet. He promptly cocked his leg in my direction and christened the towbar. ‘You can stay there,’ I told him, ‘until you learn how to behave!’ Now I was in the mood to party!

  From outside it must have seemed like an earthquake was happening in the van.

  The music was loud and frantic, and the four of us were up on our feet, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Outside, Battersby was howling like a werewolf and the van was rocking form side to side like a boat on the ocean, which was a bit worrying because we were on a slope.

  In the middle of all this frenzy, no one realised that the handbrake had worked itself loose.

  Suddenly we were all thrown to the floor, and Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants was screaming like a girl, ‘BLOODY HELL! THE CAMPER VAN’S ON THE MOVE!’

  I looked out the window and saw Battersby, tied to the back of the van, wide-eyed and terrified, and running so fast, I’m surprised he didn’t take off!

  ‘Hold on, Battersby!’ I shouted, but the poor little bugger couldn’t really do anything else but hold on, could he?

  ‘I’ll try and stop the van!’ Dickie yelled at me. ‘You see if you can reach out the window and free Battersby!’

  I didn’t need telling twice. If that poor mutt wasn’t soon freed, he’d end up padless; maybe even legless.

  ‘Hold my legs while I lean out!’ I instructed Joanna, who by then was beginning to panic.

  ‘We’re all gonna die, aren’t we?’ she cried. ‘Mam! I love you, Mam…and I’m sorry but it were me who ate the last of that cherry cake!’

  ‘Never mind the damned cherry cake!’ I told her, ‘I’m going out the window. Hold on to my legs and don’t let go!’

  ‘You’re going out the window?’ All big eyed and shaking, she got hold of me. ‘That’s not a good idea. But if you’re going, I’m going with you! That way we stand a better chance.’

  ‘NO! You silly mare!’ I’d gon
e right off her, ‘I’m gonna save Battersby. He’s tied to the back of the van and he can’t stop running!’

  ‘Oh, so you weren’t trying to escape then?’

  ‘LOOK! Just grab hold of my ankles. There’s no way I can get him up here, but I might be able to untie the rope, then we can find him after we manage to stop the van.’ By now it was rolling along at a terrifying pace.

  The window was smaller than I had thought, and it was proving impossible to get my entire frame through it.

  I managed to get my head and shoulders through without any trouble. Then I found I could squeeze my buttocks through, but then I got stuck good and proper. I was too far out to get back in, and not far enough out to reach poor Battersby. I felt awful. There he was, looking up at me with big, shocked eyes, his bark now little more than a pitiful whine, and his legs going so fast you couldn’t make one from the other!

  ‘Can you get him?’ Joanna asked.

  ‘No!’

  ‘What d’you want me to do then?’

  ‘Just hold on to me and whatever happens, don’t let go!’

  Taking a deep breath I breathed in and inched further out the window, but I still couldn’t reach him. So I wiggled a bit more, and as I wiggled out, my trousers slipped back and the cool air rushed to my nether regions. ‘Ooh! Look at you! I can see your bum!’ Joanna was beside herself with excitement. ‘You’ve got a really lovely bum!’

  The silly mare! Didn’t she know this was a crisis?

  ‘D’you mind if I pinch it?’

  ‘KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF! Just hold on. And whatever you do…don’t let go!’ I was frantic because I was so far out, there seemed to be no way back. ‘DICKIE! I can’t get back…stop the pigging van will you!’

  ‘I’M TRYING!’

  ‘WELL TRY HARDER! AND TURN THAT DAMNED MUSIC OFF!’

  ‘I’M BUSY TRYING TO STOP THE VAN! THE HANDBRAKE’S LOCKED UP!’

  ‘WHERE’S YOUR GIRLFRIEND?’

  ‘SHE’S STEERING THE DAMNED THING! WHERE’S YOURS?’

  ‘OGLING MY BUM!’

  ‘WHAT DID YOU SAY?’

  ‘I SAID…SHE’S GOT ME BY THE ANKLES, SO I DON’T FALL OUT!’

  We seemed to be going faster and faster. The hairy mutt was barking like fury and the music got louder and louder, and now, in all the chaos, a police car was giving chase, it’s siren blaring.

  ‘Ooh, look!’ That was Joanna. ‘How exciting! We’re being chased by the police. Wow! They’ll never believe this…it’s like a scene from Life on Mars.’ Joanna squealed.

  It was only later, when we were presented with a transcript of the officer’s call-in to the station, that we had any idea what was going on in the police car:

  OFFICER DAVE JACKSON: ‘All units, we’ve got a run away camper van travelling at speeds of eighty miles an hour along the promenade. There seems to be loud music and lots of screaming and shouting coming from inside the van.’

  OFFICER PARRY: ‘Ooh, look! There’s a hairy dog tied to the rear of the vehicle, and a half-naked bloke hanging out the window by his trousers. Move in quick, Dave! The buggers won’t know what’s hit ‘em!’

  OFFICER DAVE JACKSON: ‘All units, we’re closing in. Correction! The van is not stopping, I repeat, not stopping. It looks like they want to play—we’re still in pursuit along the promenade. Switching lights and siren to full. This is it, Harry, first bust of the night coming up!’

  Scared witless and still attached to the rear of the van, Battersby was so desperate to escape he was in danger of strangling himself.

  Above him, I was frantic, frozen through and exposed to all and sundry. Half in half out, I was being thrown from side to side like a rag doll, screaming for Joanna to pull me in. ‘YOU STUPID MARE, I’M GETTING WHIPLASH!’

  And then the rain began to pelt down, wetting my bits and pieces, ‘FOR GAWD’S SAKE…WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?’ Now I was more frightened than angry.

  Deaf to my pleas, Joanna was hopping about with excitement, craning her neck to see the pursuing police car. ‘Look at ’em go, Ben! Oh, I wish my mam could see this!’

  We were approaching the traffic lights when it happened. Dickie later told me that the driver approaching from the opposite direction, who looked like he was having a sing along to his radio music, saw us coming straight for him, at full speed and out of control. He obviously panicked and swerved violently to the right and ended up in a fish and chip shop window, with the wooden sign through his windscreen saying: Cod and chips £2. Mushy peas thrown in.

  The camper van then swerved to the left, did a bit of a jig, then tipped over a low wall and landed sideways on, on the beach.

  Thrown on to the utility bed, Dickie said Joanna all but wet herself with excitement. ‘We’re beached! Look, Ben! We’re beached, and there’s me without me cossie!’

  I couldn’t look because when the van went over the wall I was released from the window, flew like a cannon ball and landed, hard, on the beach. I was told it was a while before I was found, trouser-less and all but unconscious, with the hairy mutt whining nearby. Luckily the mutt was still intact, thanks to the fact the rope tying him to the back of the van snapped on impact.

  ‘You’re nicked!’ Before I knew what was happening, I was handcuffed and marched to the waiting police car. When the others finally staggered out of the van, they were arrested too. Squashed between Joanna and the hairy mutt I was past caring that I had been nicked for being naked in public. Again. Gawd, I hope the nosey gits back home don’t get wind of it!

  ‘Phaw!’ Winding down the window, the policemen were looking a bit green. It was all I could do not to laugh as Battersby let rip another almighty fart. When I tried to explain to the officers I got short shrift.

  ‘Shut it, you! You’re in enough trouble as it is!’ When he started caughing he couldn’t stop. Well done Battersby dog!

  When we arrived at the station, I was given an old coat to throw over my pride and glory. ‘I want my pants!’ I looked like a tramp and I was not having it.

  ‘You’ll get what you’re given and be thankful!’ That was the duty officer, a walrus in uniform, with two yellow, shifty eyes that moved in opposite directions.

  He glared at the two officers who had nicked us, who, judging by the way they were grinning from ear to ear, were very proud of themselves. ‘Officer Jackson and officer Parry, what’ve you got then?’ The duty officer trained his shifty eyes on me and the others, ‘looks like you’ve bagged a right motley crew here, an’ no mistake.’

  Dickie was hunched up and in pain, due to the fact he had been bent double for too long, trying to stop the runaway camper van. Frankie and Joanna were trying to chat up the duty officer, who froze them out with a hardened stare.

  Battersby was a mangled mess, his big, terrified eyes swivelled from side to side, and I looked like a refugee from a war zone, with my chattering teeth and my hair standing to attention.

  ‘Right then! What are we charging ‘em with?’

  Officer Jackson listed all the offences: ‘Animal cruelty, breaking the speed limit, being a danger on the highway, indecent exposure, indirectly causing damage to a fish and chip shop premises, endangering other drivers, failing to stop when pursued by the police, resisting arrest when handcuffed, abusing officers of the law when we were merely trying to execute our duty…and that one there…he pointed to Battersby, farted in our police car!’

  ‘I see!’ The walrus remained stalwart in his duty. ‘Were they over the limit?’

  ‘Not as far as we know.’ Officer Jackson replied.

  ‘What do you mean…not as far as you know? Did you breathalyse them?’

  ‘We didn’t have a breathalyser in the car.’ Officer Parry piped up.

  The walrus gave the him a shrivelling look, ‘You’d best go and find one then, hadn’t you?’

  I saw my chance here, ‘Excuse me, officer, but if you didn’t breathalyse us when you first brought us in, doesn’t that mean you can’t do it now?’

 
Before the walrus could answer, officer Jackson bellowed in my ear, ‘SHUT IT, YOU!’ Not wanting to antagonise them further, I shut it quick.

  Officer Parry came scuttling back, ‘Somebody’s gone and nicked it! I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find it!’

  ‘Well, what about these two?’ The duty officer stared over his bushy eyebrows at Joanna and Frankie, ‘I have an idea we know these two from old, is that not the case?’

  Officer Jackson agreed. ‘I’d say they’re probably at the root of it!’

  All eyes were now trained on the two women, and because I was a gentleman at heart, I tried to defend them. ‘It wasn’t their fault, officer.’

  Dickie butted in, ‘It was all a mistake. Y’see…we met these ladies, then we went back to their camper van and we put on some music and we were just dancing, and then the handbrake shook loose and the van ran away with us.’

  ‘It was an unfortunate accident…’ I was really getting into my stride now, ’…we were actually trying to rescue the situation, when these officers turned up like a pair of maniacs let loose! The siren sounded like a banshee from hell, and our poor dog was terrified!

  ‘We had it all in hand, then suddenly it was mayhem. There was me, hanging out the window trying to rescue the dog, but I was well and truly hooked up by my pants and couldn’t go forwards or backwards. Worse still, when the van crashed, I shot out like a cork from a bottle and ended up on the beach all sick and dizzy. The poor man in the other car went through the chip shop window! As for poor Battersby, he’s a shivering, frightened wreck. When he’s frightened he farts, and when he farts it’s just absolutely awful!’

  ‘Mmm.’ The walrus took a moment to consider, before questioning Dickie, ‘So you were dancing, were you?’

  ‘Yes, officer!’ If you ask me, it was Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants who caused all the trouble.

  ‘What…in the camper van…all four of you?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And when you were dancing, didn’t you realise the van was moving?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘So, didn’t any of you think about the consequences of all this dancing and shaking?’