by Suzie Twine
“Don’t be daft!” said Annie. “They’re lovely people and I’m sure they’ve never served us anything out of the ordinary. Anyway, what he does once he’s taxidermed them is give them to people as presents, birthday, Christmas, house warming, he’s probably working on yours right now!”
There was more laughter. “I can hardly wait! Do you think telling him I’m a vegetarian would help to put him off?” asked Lois.
“He’ll find out soon enough that you’re lying,” said Annie. Lois put her hand to her mouth and went bright pink with embarrassment.
“Oh my God, I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? I’m always doing that. I’m so sorry Annie!” Tom stood shaking his head in an, ‘Oh Lois, you’ve let me down again!’ sort of a way. “I do eat fish though, if that’s any help?” Lois offered in a vague attempt to worm her way back into favour.
“Thank the Lord for that, we’ll pretend the steak is salmon and we’ll be laughing!” said Annie, looking alarmingly annoyed. The memory of Annie’s hideous outburst of Wednesday and the thought of Annie throwing a stuffed animal at her flashed through Lois’s mind. “No, just joking, can’t afford steak at the moment, it’s a simple pasta bake, with tuna. Lucky!”
Lois breathed a sigh of relief and reprimanded herself inwardly. ‘Must remember to share non-meat-eating habits with hosts in future.’
“What is that creature anyway?” asked Tom, pointing to the weasely thing.
“Oh, you’ve got so much to learn about the country Tom,” said Adam, “it’s a stoat.”
“No, it’s a weasel,” said Annie.
“What’s the difference?” asked Mel.
“Well,” came back Annie and Dave, in unison, “weasels are weasely wecognised and stoats are stoataly different!” Champagne induced laughter erupted around the table.
As they sat down to enjoy their first course, Lois announced that this must surely be the point at which Annie, Dave and Adam give the low-down on the Park’s other residents. She was determined to get more information on the neighbours that she hadn’t yet met.
“Do you know what?” said Dave, “I reckon you should find out about the rest of the neighbours yourselves. It’s not good to be influenced by other peoples impressions, especially Annie’s.”
“Thanks for that, Darling.”
“Not at all Annie, not at all.” Dave swallowed another spoonful of soup, before adding, “It has to be said, there are some, how should I say?”
“Unusual?” offered Adam.
“Yes, unusual, that’ll do, unusual characters living in the park.”
“Oh gosh, now you’re making me nervous,” said Lois, frowning. “Unusual in what way?”
“Mmm, let’s think.” Dave tore off a lump from his chunk of bread and dunked it in the soup, then ate it slowly and thoughtfully. “So many ways. I think we should leave it at that really, I wouldn’t know where to start. You’ll have an interesting time meeting them all though.”
“So, that’s it, you’re not even going to give us an inkling?” Lois whined, somewhat taken aback.
“An inkling might be the worst thing to give you,” said Adam smiling.
“He’s right,” agreed Annie, “it’s always best to meet people with a blank slate and remember, never judge a book by its cover!”
“Yes, exactly,” added Adam, “Always look beyond the cover. That’s all you have to remember.”
“Yes, yes,” said Lois, still feeling slightly affronted that nobody was willing to give her any more information. “Beyond the cover, look beyond the cover. I think I can remember that.”
“They are all, how should I put it? Safe though, are they?” asked Tom, starting to feel slightly concerned for Lois’s welfare.
“Oh yes,” said Annie reassuringly, “they’re all safe enough. Well, none of them worry me anyway.”
“Well that’s very comforting Annie, thanks for that,” said Lois, sarcastically. “Anyway, Mr. Black. I’m not going to knock on his door. I’ve had enough of him already and I’ve only met him once.”
“Oh come on, you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong with this Black character, what’s he said to upset you?” Tom asked Lois.
“He came and introduced himself just after Lois had smashed down the front door,” said Mel, “and started laying down the law, as it were. Gave the impression of being a right miserable, grumpy old sod.”
“Okay,” said Annie, “we’ll fill you in a bit on Black. I wouldn’t expect anyone to go and talk to him voluntarily; maybe with a gun to their head!” Annie cleared the starter plates and went to get the main course.
“So,” said Dave, as he circled the table, topping up wine glasses, “dear old Charles Black. Brought up in the house he now lives in. Moved off to Windsor I think, to live and work. He was a planning officer. Married Gill; she wasn’t the friendliest of souls either, although her demeanour could have been induced by him I suppose. Never had any children, thank God.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re so miserable?” offered Mel.
Dave looked sceptical. “Anyway, Charles’s parents both died within a few years of each other, that must have been twenty-odd years ago. They left the house to Charles and his sister, who had cared for them during their illnesses. Charles decided to buy Emily out of her half of the house and move in. Allegedly, he bribed a couple of estate agents to give low valuations, enabling him to give Emily considerably less than her half share was worth.”
There were rumblings of distaste from around the table.
Annie continued with the story as she served out the main course, Dave disappearing to fetch more wine. “Having carried out this devious ploy, he and Gill came to live in Harewood Park, just as he was promoted to chief planning officer.”
“What do they do that’s so unpleasant?” asked Tom.
“Oh it’s not ‘they’ any more Tom. She left him about four years ago. It’s just him now. He’s always got his nose in everybody’s business,” Annie grumbled.
“Yes,” said Dave, “you can hardly take a shit without him taking out a tape measure to check it for size.”
“Dave!” said Annie, smiling.
“Well it’s true.”
“Anyway,” said Adam, “he’s a busybody who regularly puts in complaints to the council. Dave, do you remember when Richard built a tree house for the kids.”
“Oh yes,” smirked Dave. Annie laughed and nodded knowingly.
“Can you believe, they had a knock on the door one afternoon. It was a planning officer, come to inspect the tree house as a neighbour had reported that an illegal structure had been built and they had no record of planning consent.”
“You’re kidding!” said Lois, “planning permission, for a tree house? And why the hell would he complain about a tree house?”
“Nothing better to do with his time,” said Annie, “anyway, Richard got the planning permission, even though the kids were hardly ever playing in it, on principle. He quite often goes up there himself and reads, just to annoy Black. He even takes a telescope up sometimes and pretends to be peering into the back of Black’s house. He’s almost as bad as Bill!”
“What’s the story with him and Bill? They really don’t like each other do they?” said Mel.
Lois turned to Tom. “Bill is Sicily’s dad, lives at Willow Farm, at the end of the track.” Tom nodded.
“All to do with planning again.” Annie continued, “Bill feels it is his God given right to build what he wants on his land, it is his land after all. Last time Bill started building more stables at his farm, Charles, being a stickler for precision must have climbed over the locked gate in the middle of the night, with Gill in tow, to measure the footings, which had already been laid for the new stable block. Unaware that the Alsatian guard dog roamed loose in the yard at night, he got his measurement, but lost a shoe and a piece of his trouser-leg, trying to escape over the gate. He probably disturbed it when giving a little whoop of joy having thought he’d accomplished his mission!”
/> Annie stood and started to clear away the plates to compliments from around the table. Adam joined her and as they went out to the kitchen to collect the dessert, Dave continued the tale; “So, Bill found the shoe and the piece of trouser leg the next day. Had his suspicions as to who owned them and as it was winter, was able to find a socked footprint in some damp mud outside Charles’s house. I saw him taking photos and measurements of it. He even made a plaster cast and of course he made plenty of noise to ensure that Charles looked out of the window and saw what he was doing, just to give him a good fright. Bill never took the matter any further, but carried on building his stables and never heard anything from the council. So now, Bill and Charles have this sort of love, hate relationship. Well, hate actually. Several days a week, Bill goes and sits in his tractor outside Charles’s house and tries to intimidate him.”
“So that’s what he’s doing. That’s so nuts!” said Lois, “They’re both behaving like children aren’t they?”
“Oh yes,” said Annie, sitting back down to serve out dessert, “they are ridiculous.”
Annie picked up on the story again, “Bert’s told me some pretty strange things that Gill did when she lived here too.”
“Bert, who’s Bert?” asked Tom.
“Bert and Betty,” replied Adam. “they’re a dear old couple, live in the cottage between me and Jack and Doreen. You must call in Lois, they’d be delighted to meet you.” Adam winked at Annie, “Just don’t have milk in your tea when you go. That’s all I’m saying.” Adam ‘zipped up his mouth’, to emphasise that he would give nothing else away about those particular residents.
“Anyway,” said Annie smiling, “as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Tom,”
“Begging yer pardon Ma’am.”
“Gill, ex-wife of Old Man Black used to complain about Bert and Betty’s cat going into her garden. Bert apologized and said that he really couldn’t control where the cat went. When it disappeared for twenty-four hours, Bert went to look for it and heard a loud meowing coming from the Black’s garden. She had trapped the cat in a cage and left it in there without food and water. Whether her plan was to leave it there ‘till it died, who knows? Bert was so angry he called the police, who came and issued her a formal warning. After that, she started collecting up dog mess and throwing it into Bert and Betty’s garden, as a sort of revenge I suppose.”
“Yuck, that’s disgusting!” said Lois.
“So,” continued Annie, “the years went by and then she disappeared! That’s Gill, not the cat. One day she was here and then no one saw her again. Charles got a skip, threw all her belongings into it and that was that. One day Richard plucked up the courage to ask Charles where she was and he said he would rather not talk about it.”
“Adam, you said you thought she’d run off with some fancy man from her aerobics class, didn’t you?” asked Mel.
“I did, yes. That’s the rumour, but I don’t know where it came from.”
“I think he murdered her!” said Dave, in a determined voice. “I think he murdered her and buried her in the footings of Richard and Debbie’s extension and that’s why he never objected to their planning application. I think he suffocated her, dragged her to the shed, chopped her up into little bits and put the bits into bin liners.”
“Oh Dave, stop it!” squeaked Lois.
“Well, the cement was poured into the footings late on a winters evening and when the builders had gone and Debs and Richard were inside, he pushed the bags into the cement!”
“Mm, well done Sherlock. How are you going to gather your evidence? Knock down Richard and Debbie’s house and rip out the footings?” asked Tom.
Dave sipped his wine. “Mm, maybe I should conduct my own investigation. Hey, my new job could be as a private detective. ‘The Mystery of the Disappearing Old Witch’ could be my first case.”
The conversation continued into the early hours, very little being given away about any of the other neighbours. Lois and Tom who were both exhausted, said their goodnights and made their way upstairs.
As they climbed into bed, Lois was very relieved to see Tom smiling. “Well, it’s quite a place you’ve persuaded me to move to, isn’t it? I hope the rest of the residents are going to be more friendly than Mr. Black eh?”
10
Lois and Tom went back to London on Sunday evening having spent a very busy day trawling around the DIY and bathroom shops in a successful mission to order what was necessary. The good news was that their taste, in bathrooms at least, was very similar and they were both pleased with their order, an Edwardian style suite, more or less in keeping with the age of the cottage.
Once back at the flat, they sat and made yet another list. Annie had been left in charge of the giant key so she could let Dean in, enabling Lois to stay at the flat on Monday morning and make use of the computer and home phone. She could then organise reconnection of the landline, connection to broadband and find a man with a van who would pack up the flat and move them at the end of the following week.
Lois was so excited she could barely force herself to go to bed.
“I mustn’t forget, I need to ring the office and HR tomorrow and discuss my planned retirement!”
“Don’t say ‘I mustn’t forget’, always say ‘I must remember’, otherwise you’re sending the wrong message to your subconscious!” grinned Tom.
“Oh whatever!” said Lois, “I’ll write myself a note to make sure I don’t forget anyway. Hey, you’ve done really well today, how are your ribs feeling now?”
“Do you know, they’re feeling amazingly good. There’s still a dull ache, but the sharp nerve pain has gone. Interesting isn’t it? I expect they would have got better by now anyway, but they do seem to have improved dramatically over the course of the weekend.”
“Yes, since Saturday afternoon? Anyway, as you say, you would probably have got better anyway.”
Next morning, Tom dragged himself off to work and Lois settled into ticking the items off her list. Firstly she rang Adrienne, who was happy to tie up any of Lois’s loose ends at work. They arranged to meet for an early breakfast later in the week. Then she called the HR department, who agreed that she really didn’t have any notice to serve once her annual leave was taken into account. Only then did she ring the office. She would have felt guilty if it had been Justin that she needed to speak to, but much to her relief, his phone was answered by Ian. Lois explained the situation and said that she would make the appropriate hand-overs. Ian sounded as disgruntled as she would have expected, but she took little notice, she was feeling very excited.
Following the call, Lois checked the phone was disconnected properly, then shouted “YES!” and started dancing round the room, rubbing her tummy and singing, “No more work for us, Pumpkin, no more work for us!”
The morning passed quickly, very quickly. Lois worked her way through her list slowly, very slowly! The telecom company’s call centre in Delhi passed her from pillar to post and cut her off several times, which is something she should have taken into account before estimating how many jobs she would get done in a morning. Lois was very impressed with the fact she stayed calm. There was much controlled sighing and she ate her way through half a packet of very old bourbon biscuits. But she was totally in control of her temper, if not the phone call. The good news was that Tom had recently invested in a house phone with a loudspeaker function and a handy clip, which she attached to the top of her T-shirt. She could deal with the telecom company whilst simultaneously attempting to encourage her pixie haircut to look more pixie, less hedgehog, putting on her make-up, making tea, opening biscuit packets and looking up information on the Internet, without getting a crick in the neck.
The ‘man with a van’ was much easier to organise. She tried two phone numbers she found on the net and two she found in the local free paper that had been posted through the door on Friday. Ed was the least complicated of the four. He popped in at eleven o’clock and made a quick assessment of what th
e job involved. Opening the road map he’d brought with him to plan a route, said he would ‘come a week Fursday wiv free blokes and do the packin’. It would only take a few ‘ours. Den come back first fing Friday and load up de van.’ He reckoned they’d be all moved in and unpacked by lunchtime. Ed suggested four hundred pounds in cash and Lois said that would be great and she’d see him on Thursday. After he’d gone, Lois thought she probably should have taken some credentials from him; Tom probably wouldn’t be overly impressed if he and his chums loaded up the van and then disappeared with all their belongings. “Oh well, hey ho!” she said out loud, shrugging her shoulders.
By the end of the morning Lois felt an urgent need to get to the cottage and see how Dean was getting on. She packed a large suitcase with clothes, toiletries, hairdryer, a phone just in case the telecom company got their act together and connected the line, mobile, laptop, camera, and a multitude of chargers. She finished packing the case, managed to force it shut sufficiently to do it up, went to take it to the front door and realised it was far too heavy for her to manoeuvre and had to find another bag to empty the heavier stuff into. Lois congratulated herself on, once again, being very well organised.
Tom rang, as she was about to leave the flat, “Hi Lo, just a quickie. Did you remember to pack me some clothes so I can go straight to the cottage from work.”
“Yes, yes, just finished packing your case,” Lois lied, “everything pretty well under control here, just about to leave!”
They said their goodbyes and just as Lois was about to put down the phone, Tom said quietly, “Remember to pack my bag Lo!” and hung up. Lois smiled, how did he know? She went straight back to the bedroom, dragged a small suitcase out of the wardrobe and quickly packed what she felt would be necessary for Tom for the next few days. She took one case at a time out to the car, which fortunately, was parked unusually close to the flat. It was a bit of a struggle, fitting everything into the MG, but eventually she was away. She smiled all the way from Islington to Harewood Park.