5 The Witches of East Malling

by steve higgs

  ‘I did, apparently. When her place was full of spiders and she kind of freaked out I took her back to mine place and… Brett, is that his name?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well. Brett saw us together and assumed she was cheating on him. I don’t know any more than that. Patience told me about it the other night.’

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I felt sorry for Amanda, I knew she was rather enamoured with the stupidly handsome and rich Brett Barker. I wanted to say that I didn’t like him but trying to be mature about it for a moment, I had to admit that I didn’t know him. He and I had met as adversaries. Neither one of us had won, unless you were counting Amanda as the prize in which case I was definitely the loser.

  I decided to just not think about it.

  I was right about the parking, but we were not early enough to avoid being directed into a field. I followed the line of taillights into the dark and was waved into a space by one of the many attendants trying to manage the thousands of cars pouring into the castle grounds. Despite the hi-vis vest and torch, he was still having to avoid being run over by overzealous drivers trying to get their car parked and their hyped-up kids out.

  Big Ben and I started down the hill to the castle. I turned around and took some photographs in the hope that I could find my way back by using what little navigation points I could find. Big Ben generously didn’t bother to wait for me. I jogged to catch up.

  As we entered the castle grounds proper, it was all lit magnificently with large floodlights that had been erected for the event. The castle itself was always lit at night. Light from inside making it look warm, more floodlights sunk into the ground outside highlighting the perfection that it was.

  I spotted what I had been looking for. ‘Gin tent.’ I announced while pointing to our left, where a flag with the Fevertree logo could be seen waving in the sky.

  Big Ben smacked his lips together envisaging the divine taste. ‘Yes, please. Make mine a double.’ He requested and produced a crisp twenty pounds note from a pocket.

  ‘Top man.’ I replied as I took it and began moving away from him. ‘Where will you be?’

  He took a second to look around, then pointed. I followed his line of sight and spotted two young ladies toting Guys on sack barrows. They were dressed in saucy steampunk cosplay outfits. I knew why Big Ben had selected them: They both looked like Victoria’s Secret models.

  ‘I’ll be over there.’ He said pointing at the two honeys. ‘Scoring.’

  ‘I bet burgers at the Oak that you’ll strike out.’ I figured it was fifty-fifty whether Big Ben could take one of these lovely ladies home tonight and that was assuming they were straight. They could easily be gay so I kind of fancied my odds. Honestly though, the burgers at the Oak are so good I was still a winner even if I was buying them.

  ‘Challenge accepted.’ I nodded then strode toward the gin tent, leaving Big Ben to do what he always does.

  The gin tent was busy. Behind the counter were twenty or more well-presented bar staff. The chaps had stiff black shirts with the sleeves rolled up and charcoal aprons that contrasted just enough. Some of them had waxed mustaches that curled over at the ends. I don’t know why, but I instantly felt assured, like a man with styled facial hair must be able to make a good gin and tonic. About twenty percent of the staff were female, dressed similarly but without the facial hair of course. They did all have long hair though and each of them had it pulled into a French plait.

  I waited my turn patiently and whiled away my time inspecting the bottles of gin on display behind the raised bar. Making a choice would be difficult. Did I pick something new? Did I play it safe and go with something I knew? I searched along the rows until I spotted what I had hoped to see – a rare bottle of Chatham Dockyard gin. It was a local brew that one would not find outside of the County unless someone bought it and took it there. It had a wonderful after-hit of cardamom that I treasured.

  Finally, I was next to be served. The two ladies in front of me had their drinks but were flapping around trying to find their purses. I gave them a moment, but it became clear they were without funds to pay for their beverages and were looking very embarrassed.

  I stepped closer, ‘Sorry, ladies. I could not help but overhear your plight. Would it be acceptable for me to pay for your drinks?’ they eyed me uncertainly then looked at each other. ‘I don’t see any other way of getting to the bar.’ I joked and thankfully it cracked the ice.

  ‘That’s very generous of you.’ The one to my left said as I handed over the twenty pounds note I already had in my hand. Her heritage was Jamaican maybe, my guess would be one of the islands in that chain anyway, but her accent was local, and she had most likely been born here. To my right the other lady had a trace of Japanese about her. They were both short, five feet five or six and both wore clothes that were appropriate to the November temperature. There were a lot of other women here tonight wearing huge heels to walk around a dark field and tiny skirts with skimpy jackets that revealed their assets. Their choice of course, but I liked that these ladies were sensibly dressed.

  ‘You are very welcome.’ I replied as I received my change and was able to place my order. I got my Chatham Dockyard gin with slimline tonic and a second for Big Ben but made his a double. I handed over more cash and got more change and turned to find the two ladies still stood behind me.

  ‘Are you here with your wife?’ the Jamaican lady asked.

  Ah. This was what Big Ben was always telling me to look out for. An opening.

  ‘I am here with a buddy. I left him outside talking to some girls that were collecting for charity.’

  Both girls exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes. ‘You mean the titty-sluts in the steampunk outfits?’

  ‘I think that would be an accurate description.’ I replied neutrally. Mr Wriggly liked how they looked but I doubted it was the right time to voice his opinion.

  ‘Shall we see if we can find him?’ I asked as I moved away from the bar. ‘He should be easy to spot; he is six foot seven.’

  ‘Six feet seven?’ How does he buy clothes?’ The oriental lady asked, and I realised that I hadn’t asked them their names or even introduced myself.

  ‘I have never asked him that.’ I replied rather than ignore her question. ‘Ladies, it seems like a good time to do names. I am Tempest Michaels.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Tempest.’ Oriental lady said while putting out her hand. ‘I am Louise, and this is Angela. We work together. We are both single, but you probably could have guessed that since we are here with each other and not our boyfriends.’

  At a different time, this would be welcome news. They were both pleasant to speak to, pleasant to look at and both had jobs and were single. Not that I really had a tick list, but it was always nicer chatting to a lady if I believed I might be interested. Now though I already had a date arranged with Natasha which was suddenly thrown into question because Amanda’s relationship status had changed.

  I turned back to scan the crowd and spotted Big Ben no more than twenty metres away. He was still talking to the two steampunk girls. They did not look very happy about it though.

  ‘There he is. I said he would be easy to spot.’

  Big Ben turned his attention away from the two honeys and instantly took in the two ladies accompanying me. He hit them with a smile that was probably designed to make them both go moist.

  ‘Ladies, this is my good friend, Big Ben. Please be warned that he may try to chat you up. Ben this is Louise and Angela.’ I said by way of introduction.

  I handed Big Ben his cup of gin, tonic, ice and cucumber. Now all four of us had one and the two ladies were sipping theirs quite demurely.

  ‘Good evening, ladies. A pleasure to meet you.’ Big Ben started, ‘How did Tempest entice you to join him?’

  ‘He bought our drinks.’ Louise explained.

  ‘They were in front of me in the queue but their purses both seem to have been lifted. They had already been served thei
r drinks, so I picked up the bill while they did the online bank, cancel your card thing.’

  ‘You were very generous.’ Angela acknowledged. ‘I’m just glad I wasn’t carrying much cash.’

  ‘Me too.’ Said Louise. ‘It will be a pain without any cards for a couple of days. Why do pickpockets have to target family events?’

  ‘Because they know people bring cash and are often tipsy from the beer or gin tent and habitually do not pay attention.’ I answered the rhetorical question.

  Big Ben patted his pockets to reassure himself that his wallet was still there.

  ‘Everything alright, Ben?’ I asked.

  Before he could answer, there was a loud whumpf noise as the fire was lit and it hungrily sucked in air from all around. Whatever accelerant they had applied to the dry timber was consumed in a half second as the flames lit the sky, light bouncing back down off the low clouds.

  ‘Ooh.’ Said Louise.

  I grabbed Big Ben’s arm as the girls turned to watch the orange flames stretch for the sky.

  ‘You okay?’ I asked.

  Big Ben had not answered my earlier question. ‘Fine, mate.’ He replied.

  ‘So, what happened with the two steampunk girls? I took so long getting gin and helping the two ladies that I figured you would have shagged at least one of them by the time I returned, but there you were still talking to them. And they looked bored.’

  ‘Yeah. It was weird. I felt like they were too focused on something else to notice me. I can’t really explain it to you because that’s what you get all the time.’

  ‘You are such a nosher.’ I replied. ‘Well, it’s two-nil currently.’

  ‘Talking to girls doesn’t count, silly. How many times do I have to explain that? You want to brag, then bring me their knickers. Before we leave here tonight that is.’

  ‘Christ.’ I muttered under my breath. He had said it quite loud enough for them to hear and while neither one had turned I saw that they had stopped moving and were now looking at each other as if wondering how to react. ‘You could speak a little more quietly, you know. There will be no collecting of undergarments, thank you. I will have a pleasant evening and leave it at that.’

  ‘That’s your tactic? No wonder you never get any.’

  ‘I got some last week in Cornwall, thank you very much. Twice, in fact.’

  Big Ben appeared to consider that news for a moment. ‘No, you didn’t.’ he concluded.

  ‘Yes. I did. Dickhead.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll bite. What is her name? When are you seeing her again?’ He was probing my story to see if it had holes in it.

  ‘Roberta Masonberg and she is in jail now, so I will not be seeing her again.’

  ‘Hold on. Did you get lucky because you were there by yourself? Was that your tactic? Increase your chances by leaving me behind?’

  ‘I realise that I may begin sounding like a broken record through constantly repeating myself, however I feel I must once again point out that you are an absolute nosher.’

  He laughed hard now. He enjoyed being a dick. ‘Seriously though, mate. Louise and Angela are attractive young ladies. You should pick one now so that I don’t end up shagging the one you want.’

  I was certain they had heard that as well. I shook my head and wandered back to them. ‘Sorry ladies, my friend is a little gregarious.’

  ‘He most certainly is.’

  We all fell silent for a moment. It was becoming a painfully long moment when Louise asked if I was hungry.

  ‘A little I guess.’ I was lying, sort of. I was hungry, but I had no intention of eating what they had on offer here. Everything would be too calorific to fit in my new regime of fitness and health.

  ‘Angela and I were planning to get some food after we went to the gin tent. Now we have no money, but we are starving. I was hoping I could give you something of value, my watch maybe as a deposit on a little cash so we can get ourselves a burger or something.’

  I nodded. They were in a pickle. There were no cash dispensers here but even if there had been they had no cards to use. What was I to do? I could hardly have the ladies go hungry. ‘I’ll tell you what, ladies.’ I said opening my wallet and peering inside. I had bought fifty pounds with me, which ought to have been more than sufficient but had spent almost forty on gin and tonics already. ‘I can rustle up fourteen pounds and it is all yours. I think I can stretch that far.’

  ‘Why?’ Angela asked.

  I looked at her.

  ‘Yeah, why?’ echoed Louise. ‘For a moment I thought that you were just trying to get into our knickers. You friend certainly seems to not care who he sleeps with as long as he sleeps with someone. But you haven’t even tried a cheesy line.’

  I could feel my cheeks colouring. I was thinking about the concept of being like Big Ben and taking one or both of these girls home. Of having lovely Louise naked in my bed. Mr Wriggly began to stir.

  ‘Not really my style, I guess.’ I managed to stammer out. ‘You are both very lovely, but I guess the honest answer is that while the idea of a brief encounter has some enticing connotations, I am not really looking for Miss Right Now.’

  Louise and Angela considered that for a moment.

  ‘Okay.’ Angela said. ‘Then I guess the burgers are on you.’

  They both looped their arms through mine so now I was walking along with a pretty woman on each arm and feeling like an utter stud.

  ‘And then you can decide which one of us you want to shag.’ Louise said.

  Bedtime. Saturday, November 5th 2342hrs

  The dogs had spent the evening next door with Mrs. Comerforth. They hated fireworks. They always barked and fretted even with me holding them and the television turned up. Their hearing was different to mine, so maybe my efforts were futile. Mrs. Comerforth had triple glazing and had once commented that she never heard the fireworks at all. I had dropped the dogs off with her for them to enjoy an evening on her sofa watching television and probably eating biscuits. I collected them when I got home as she was still up. I thanked her as always and promised to visit the next day to tackle some rose bushes that had become overgrown and a gutter that was blocked.

  When the fireworks ended I had looked for Big Ben. I found him holding hands with a lady that was taller than me and was drop-dead gorgeous. Angela had made a comment that I had not heard. I doubted it was complimentary.

  Big Ben was also surrounded by police. Not that they were bothering him. It transpired that while we were watching the fireworks and the girls were eating their burgers, Big Ben had been foiling a pickpocket gang's plans. There was a huge haul of wallets and purses spilling out of the bottom half of a hollowed-out Guy. The steampunk girls had made a run for it but had been caught before they got very far. Across the field, they were being loaded into the back of a police van along with four children, all of whom were crying.

  ‘Ooh, that's my purse'. Louise squealed, pointing at the pile of purses on the ground by a police officer's feet.

  ‘Sorry, you will have to wait for the evidence to be processed, Miss.'

  ‘Bollocks.' Said Big Ben, reaching down to pluck the one she was pointing to from the ground.

  ‘Oi.’ Said the officer.

  Big Ben ignored him and flipped the purse open. Then found her driver’s license. ‘Looks like a match to me.' He chucked the purse to Louise.

  ‘That’s evidence.’ The officer hissed, but he did nothing to retrieve it.

  Next to me, Angela was pointing to hers with equal excitement. Big Ben locked eyes with the much shorter police officer. The officer looked away and Big Ben handed Angela her purse as well.

  ‘Thank you.’ She said, opening it and checking the contents.

  ‘Plenty of evidence left, kid.' Said Big Ben in the general direction of the officer. ‘Now. I am going to take Elle here for some refreshments.'

  ‘I thought I was taking you.’ She pointed out.

  ‘Oh yeah. I am going to go with Elle for some refreshment at her pl
ace. Don’t wait up.’ He waved goodnight to me and was gone. A night of passion undoubtedly in store.

  I turned to Angela and Louise. ‘I guess this just about concludes the evening.’

  ‘Have you made a decision yet?’ Louise asked.

  I hadn't realised they were being serious. They were both charming and attractive with great figures. How was a chap supposed to pick?

  So, I said that I hadn't and that had been the wrong answer. Since I wasn't interested enough in either one of them to pick one over the other, I was getting neither. I was fine with that, at least, that's what I kept telling myself anyway. Big Ben would have said something entirely different which would have resulted in them both going with him simultaneously no doubt.

  Nevertheless, I had driven home alone, and I was not all that upset. At home, I had made a cup of tea and taken it and the doggies up to bed with the box file I had been given by Mick Cotton.

  I fell asleep before I finished my tea, waking later to find it stone cold on the bedside table and the box folder's contents almost entirely unread. I switched the light off, pushed the box folder onto the floor and let sleep take me.

  Running, Research and Roast Dinner. Sunday, November 6th 0653hrs

  I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock by my bed. It was 0653hrs which meant it was time to get up and attack the day. I am sure that many, if not most people have a lie in on a Sunday morning. Maybe roll around a bit with their partner if they have one and wander around the house in their pyjamas for a while, drinking coffee and eating toast while reading the Sunday paper.

  These were fantasy scenes from an alternate reality for me. I would happily change my life to have a woman in it, fast forward a few years to a point when we had grown used to each other and settled into co-habitual bliss. I didn’t have that though, so I might as well get my lazy backside out of bed and get on with something more productive than fantasising.

  Bull was tucked into the duvet looking very comfortable. His brother was under there somewhere, I could hear him gently snoring. Neither dog was inclined to get up though. I laced up my running shoes, peered out my bedroom window into the gloom and discerned that it was, in fact, raining. A steady drizzle by the look of it.