A Tour de Fate

by P R M Kinloch

  The sudden arrival and explosion stunned everyone - even though they’d heard him coming from a long way off. The four standing continued to stand. After all, this was a new experience for them. However, the shattered glass did look problematic. In the silence, Alfred Stump quietly asked the two youngsters,

  “Would you mind asking Mrs Stump if she could spare a dustpan and brush?” The two kids carefully picked their way out of the room.

  It seemed like a long time, but eventually Doodoo emerged from the wreckage, of course gutted by his error of judgment. He had completely forgotten the section in the ‘Message Bearing’ series of lectures in his training entitled ‘The Arrival’. Hanging his head in shame, he gave his message.

  MSG TO SUPT OPUM: HORN LUMP IN FAST

  PURSUIT EXPECTED TO ARRIVE AT HQ BY

  NIGHTFALL BUT ASSUME WILL CONTINUE

  AFTER HQ STOP IMPERATIVE FOR YOU TO

  MOVE AGAIN STOP BUTTON END OF MSG

  This news changed everything. Stump and Opum went into a huddle to work out what to do. They had no idea how much time they had. The more they assumed Lump’s tracking speed was good, the worse it looked. They had to get Diana to somewhere all over again, but didn’t know where would be safe.

  The greyhound was told to let Mrs Stump check him for splinters and then wait for a reply to take back. Collin and Daniella were thanked for their magnificent help, given back their party hats plus a dozen eggs and sent on their happy way – full of a new story to tell about the strange and eccentric life of the rich and famous.

  Stump and Opum decided to turn the tables on the approaching riff-raff that seemed so intent on getting their clutches on Ms McLeash and generally disturbing their own otherwise peaceful life. By the time they had worked everything out, they knew their plan had to be cutting things fine, so they moved quickly.

  They called the runner and dictated a message to send the Riot Squad, not to High Aytus, but to Bortontick and adding that the instructions should also be given, ‘Do not apprehend. Wait out of sight for orders to proceed’.

  “Oh, and by the way,” Stump said to the still embarrassed runner, “We’ll look after this.” He motioned to the mess. My insurance will cover it.”

  The runner left, somewhat slower than his arrival. Mr Stump went looking for his wife, shepherded her to the hallway and called Opum who seemed to be checking on the slumbering Fullon.

  “My Dear,” he said, “Would you kindly rouse Miss McLeash. I’m afraid all hell is coming after her and we must move her again. Don’t rush, but could you have her ready to travel, say, in the hallway here in twenty minutes? Perhaps that’s time to give her a little supper, Hm?”

  He watched her go upstairs. Then to Opum he called out, “I’ll be back.” Opum looked into the hall again as Stump Senior went out of the front door. Opum turned his attention back to the sleeping Fullon.

  Twenty minutes later, Diana McLeash emerged from the kitchen with Mrs Stump. Mr Stump was waiting together with Opum. Stump had a wheelbarrow. It was their neighbour’s. He’d simply walked off with it, leaving his business card in its place. That problem could be sorted later.

  “Hello, my Dear, sorry to wake you,” he said to the lass, “but unfortunately we must move you again. Your transport awaits.” He motioned the wheelbarrow.

  Diana looked startled. “Oh, but I can w -”

  “No doubt you can, Miss McLeash.” Cut in Magnus Opum, “But your walking is the problem and a giveaway to our followers. Your safety depends on you not leaving a trail.”

  This left her no option. She hopped aboard, Alfred Stump lifted the barrow, ready to move and Diana settled down.

  “Everybody ready?” Alfred checked with his wife and they all left, leaving the front door open.

  “He still asleep?” Alfred asked, managing the barrow with ease. He was referring to Fullon.

  “Out to the world. I left the invitation sticking out of his pocket. It might set a nice argument for the next lot.”

  “Brilliant, Magnus. And your idea of leaving the glass mess for them to walk on could very well limit further damage by our next – no -”

  “No,” echoed Magnus, “His next guests.”

  “What have you boys cooked up now, Alfred?” asked Henrietta Stump as they all walked on.

  “Well, apparently the fellows that want to make off with Miss McLeash are angry and want her back.” Said Stump.

  “They haven’t the right to do that, have they?” She asked. This brought Diana’s head round to hear the answer.

  “Absolutely not. No right at all.” Said Magnus

  “Thank you.” Said Diana turning to the front again.

  “We’ve left our new-found friend holding the fort, my Dear.” Stump explained to his wife. “They’ll think Mr Fullon is the master of the house.”

  “And his invitation – which they will see – proves it – no matter what he says!” Added Opum.

  “In his state, he really won’t remember how the evening finished up, so it should be fun,” added Stump.

  “But why wouldn’t you let me clean up that dreadful mess?” She asked.

  “Well, my Dear, it will, we hope, reduce their interest in rushing around doing more damage.”

  “It’s known in the trade,” provided Magnus, helpfully, “as a coup de glass.” Then he added, “I did also leave them with a suggestion.” The Stumps walked on, waiting for more from Opum as he padded gamely along beside them.

  “I pinned a note to his costume that says, ‘TOO LATE. SHE’S GONE’.”

  “Brilliant.” Said Mr Stump.

  “Where are we going?” asked Diana.

  86 LAST THROW OF THE DICE

  Lump was now desperately thirsty. And that was a real understatement. The Horn character had been pushing and shoving and insisting and promising all the way from Plenty up in the Clumps, and they were now down almost to river level. They’d even been into Diddling, traipsing round to the Police Station without stopping once, and then still with no break, they had continued all the way out here, wherever it was. Now, finally? They arrived at this fancy place. And still the Horn fellow insisted. So? In he went.

  Nice place. Oh yes. “Landed Gentry” and all that stuff. Should be water here, lots of it somewhere. Ah! Look at this! Drinkies all ready? Nice! Don’t mind if I do.

  Lump ignored the half-full glasses and picked up the half full bottle of 100% Proof, cask strength, umpteen years old single malt, small batch, pot stilled, hand crafted kerjonk and drank a bit. He looked appreciatively at the bottle, then sat back, upending it in his mouth. As he slaked his thirst, almost the whole bottle disappeared just as the first slug of 100% Proof finest pure kerjonk reached its mark in his tummy and vapourised. Pressure built towards an inevitable explosion. Ignition took place just as the larger volume of kerjonk arrived. The result extended the explosion like a volcano at full roar. His eyes glazed over as the explosion had nowhere to go except the way everything had gone in.

  “BERRRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHH!!” He said. The bottle shot out like a missile greased with Lump’s usual juices. It flew with unerring accuracy down the hall, across the sitting room and embedded itself in the portrait face of Ebenezer Stump hanging above the space only recently vacated by what had been the very large, ornate glass cabinet. Lump offered a final contribution and passed out.

  “OOOff.”

  Enter Skinner and Blowback. They were also thirsty. The drinks were handy. A new bottle was opened and generously poured into two of the three remaining, already half full glasses. After consumption of which, the two became very short of breath, fell over Lump, and contemplated life from an altogether new and unexpected perspective.

  In came Horn. He’d sworn he got a whiff of the girl in the garden and had checked the tool shed. Now, he was also grateful for the hospitality and helped himself to the last glass, managed only one gulp before tumbling onto Lump. Miraculously his drink stayed intact. This he placed on Lump and proceeded to massage his own feet.

>   Then he took his glass, sipped it, got up, slid over Lump and proceeded towards the sitting room as if he was totally at home.

  “Come on, you two.” He called back to his two mates.

  The two made the effort, got up, looked at Horn’s backside, looked at the drinks tray, and decided to have one more for the road. After all, the Boss took a drink with him, so why not do the same. It was good kerjonk, after all. They climbed over Lump, had no idea where their glasses had got to, so each took a swig from a bottle, then scrambled back over Lump and followed Horn.

  In the sitting room, they found Horn doing something to a lot of feathers. And pieces of paper? It seemed appropriate to sit down. Mr Horn would no doubt call them if he needed them. Skinner created a funny face. Blowback nudged him.

  “You look funny.” He said.

  Skinner maintained the face, leant well away from Blowback, and removed a shard of glass from his own butt.

  “Ouch.” Said Blowback.

  “I agree,” said Skinner. But the funny face was gone.

  Horn began prodding Fullon. “Oi!” Prod. “Oi!” Prod. This was eventually changed to “Oi! Wake up!” and sometimes just “Wake up!”

  Eventually, Horn got fed up and chucked the remains of his drink at him. This actually worked. Fullon sat up. He had no idea what was happening, where he was, or who was annoying him. The process of establishing identities therefore took time and only seemed to get more complicated. Through the murky fog still filling his head, Fullon remembered the part of his arrival and why he’d come. That was right, he’d been welcomed as a person of substance. Yes, the rightful heir. Boom. No! Wasn’t he? Nooo! And the rats! Oh, those retched rats!...

  “He showed me the rats!” He wailed.

  “I’ll give you rats! Where’s the girl?”

  This exchange also went on for a while, with variations, before Horn shouted at his two henchmen, “Watch ’im! Don’t let ’im out of your sight!” He bumbled away, climbed over Lump, looked in the kitchen, staggered upstairs, looked in every bedroom, swore he got another whiff of her in one of them and came down again. He needed to think but was drawn inexplicably to the drinks tray.

  Oh. Well, since I’m here, a little lubricant might help. Just a tiny weeny... Such beautiful looking stuff... And these thoughts were so much nicer than his troubles. They spoke somehow of the life he longed for... He watched as someone, apparently himself, poured a nice...Oh, forget the glass, there wasn’t one. Absentmindedly, he guzzled straight from the bottle. It had been a long day... And then to find all this lovely stuff. Just imagine living here having this – HHHOOoo! No – Fire! Haaaa!”

  As the fire reached his belly and began to party hard, the horror of his predicament returned. “GIRL. GOTTA FIND THAT GIRL!” He yelled, “Auction is tomorrowow-wow-wow-wow!” He desperately wanted to pee. And preferably curl up in a ball and disappear. But then his do-or-die desperation took over .Horn took one more gulp, gasped for breath again, put the bottle ever so gently and lovingly back on the tray, gazed at it longingly just for a moment, climbed over Lump and went in to tackle the nutter in the feathers again.

  “So. You haven’t got the girl wiv you hic-here!” Horn stated, menacingly, breathing fumes just inches from Fullon’s face.

  “No?” Whimpered Fullon, cringing, still totally blank about any girl, or how this thug could have sprung into his life or why the questions.

  “And where do you live?”

  “Here?” Fullon tried.

  “No, we established that you don’t live here.”

  “No!” Wailed Fullon.

  No?”

  “YES!”

  “Yes? Yes what?”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  NO!”

  Horn was at his wits end. But it had dawned on him that there was possibly one other place where the girl might be. Then after that, if she wasn’t there, then he would have nothing. There was nothing and there would be nothing. So this would be his last hope. One more stupid shot. It was stupid. But it was all he had left. Just maybe, whoever had robbed him of the girl had done a crafty swap with this feathered mug.

  “I think you’re playing silly boogers with me, Fulham. We’re going to your place.” Horn declared. If this didn’t work, Horn knew he’d be dogmeat.

  ________________

  Just as Horn started bullying Fullon into climbing over the sleeping Lump and getting him out onto the road towards Bortontick, the Riot Squad was running ‘double time’ through the streets of Diddling, heading for the same location.

  87 PASS THE PARCEL

  More than half the night was gone when Mr and Mrs Stump with Magnus Opum wheeled Diana McLeash into Bortontick. The moon was up, but it was still young and shy, fitfully ducking in and out of clouds.

  In front of the house, Monty, Josh, Max and James were back, hurriedly cleaning up the last bits of wood scraps, sawdust, white powder, string and rubbish. Scraps were disappearing under shrubbery, dust was whipped away with a switch taken from a bush. They stopped and stared at the arriving party.

  As rapidly as possible, Alfred Stump and Opum delivered the basic story of Diana McLeash’s abduction, rescue, sanctuary at Hernia, and now the impending arrival of those abductors. The lads kept quiet and just listened.

  Finally, Monty asked, “So why on earth have you come here?” He was tired. It had been a long day. And night. The others with him had worked so hard. For him. It was time for everyone to stop, go home and relax, and he himself had to leave. And now this? “This is Fullon’s place. He’ll bring them here!” He sounded rattled and ratty.

  “Ah! Well. There’s the thing. You see,” Alfred Stump began, “You’ve um. You’re...” He was going to talk about what Monty was getting up to in Fullon’s house, but then, he didn’t actually know what Monty was doing, except as a guess, and that was really -

  “Monty, can you help this young lady?” Asked his mother. She wasn’t going to dither around.

  Monty didn’t answer immediately. His mother’s question brought him to the urgency of their situation - not his little bit of fun, but a problem of the real safety and welfare of someone else.

  He looked towards the darkness of the road outside. He checked the state of the area they had been cleaning. He looked at the gaping dark entrance of Fullon’s house, now minus its doors. Absentmindedly, he told the new arrivals, “Don’t go inside. It’s booby-trapped.” He looked at Josh, then said to him, “Double the order.” He said speculatively. “Can you do that?”

  Josh in turn looked at Max. Max considered only for a moment before giving a shrug and a nod.

  Josh turned back to Monty and said simply, “No problem.”

  Monty turned to Diana. “D’you think you could trust me?” He asked.

  She turned and looked at Mrs Stump before saying, “I know what you would say.” Then she turned to Opum and asked, “Should I trust him?”

  “He’s a Stump. If he says he can help you,” began Opum, “He won’t let you down.”

  She considered this, then turned to Monty and said, “I sincerely hope you do better than the last fellow.”

  “I promise you,” he replied, “I’ll do a lot better than that.

  “Now, we must go,” he urged. “Everybody must vanish! Goodbye Mum, Goodbye Dad, Mr Opum.”

  Without further ado, he picked up the barrow and began pushing her away. “You coming, lads?”

  Mr and Mrs Stump and Opum watched them cross the road and disappear into the dark before they themselves took to the back streets towards Diddling. More than half the night was gone when Mr and Mrs Stump with Magnus Opum wheeled Diana McLeash into Bortontick. The moon was still up, still young and shy, ducking in and out of clouds. In front of the house, Monty, Josh, Max and James were back, hurriedly cleaning up the last bits of wood scraps, earth, sawdust, white powder, empty sacks, bit of string and other rubbish. All of it was being hurriedly whisked under shrubbery and the dust whipped away with a switch from a bush. They stopped and stared.
As rapidly as possible, Alfred Stump and Opum delivered the basic story of Diana McLeash’s abduction, rescue, sanctuary at Hernia, and now the impending arrival of those abductors. The lads just listened.

  Finally, Monty asked, “So why on earth have you come here?” He was tired. It had been a long day. And night. His friends had worked so hard. For him. It was time for everyone to stop, go home and relax, and he himself had to leave. And now this? “This is Fullon’s place. He’ll bring them here!” He sounded rattled and cranky.

  “Ah! Well. There’s the thing. You see,” Alfred Stump began, “You’ve um. You’re...” He was going to talk about what Monty was getting up to in Fullon’s house, but he didn’t actually know what that was, except as a guess, and really -

  “Monty, can you help this young lady?” His mother cut through the dither.

  Monty didn’t answer immediately. His mother brought him to the urgency of the situation. Not his little bit of fun, but the safety and welfare of someone else. He looked towards the darkness of the road outside. He checked the state of the area they had been cleaning and the gaping dark entrance of Fullon’s house, now minus its doors.

  Absentmindedly, he told the new arrivals, “Don’t go inside. It’s booby-trapped.”

  He looked at Josh, then said speculatively, “Double the order.” Then he asked. “Can you do that?”

  Josh looked at Max. Max considered only for a moment before giving a shrug and a nod. Josh turned back to Monty and said simply, “No problem.”

  Monty studied Diana then asked her. “D’you think you could trust me

  She looked at Mrs Stump before saying, “I know what you would say.” Turning to Opum she asked, “Should I trust him?”

  “He’s a Stump. If he says he can help you, he won’t let you down.”

  She considered this, then turned to Monty, “I sincerely hope you do better than the last fellow.”

  “I promise you,” he replied, “I’ll do a lot better than that.

  “Now, we must go,” he urged. “Everybody must vanish! Goodbye Mum, Goodbye Dad, Mr Opum.”