Divorced and Deadly Read online

Page 10


  I was in the middle of a nightmare (or I thought I was) when I woke up and there was all this screaming and shouting.

  ‘Quick!’ Dickie Manse was hammering on my door, ‘GET UP! BEN, GET UP! They’re back, and they’re going crazy!’

  Leaping out of bed, I threw my curtains back and was instantly blinded. It was like the aliens had landed. Downstairs in the yard I could see two little figures running round, like lawnmowers out of control.

  Dickie fell into my room, ‘LOOK AT IT!’ he yelled, ‘LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!’

  The whole back street was lit up and the yard was like a UFO. ‘What is it?’ I yelled, ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s luminous!’ he yelled, ‘THE BLOODY PAINT IS PSYCHEDELIC!’

  I peered down. The entire neighbourhood was bathed in a pale green luminous glow. There were people in the streets all looking up, arms reaching to the skies and a look of puzzlement on their faces.

  ‘Bloody Nora!’ I grabbed Dickie, ‘Get in here!’ I told him. ‘LOCK THE DAMNED DOOR!’

  We stayed locked in, huddled and terrified until the morning, when everything was back to normal, with one exception. Antonio locked in the yard, while we repainted the walls in white wash.

  ‘You mad! Gone out of the mind! Maniac, bloody crazy idiots!’ Antonio was wearing sunglasses, ‘You havva no brains!’

  (No energy neither, by the time we finished that lot!)

  ‘You wanttta locking uppa!’ When he got excited he started screeching in his native tongue. We didn’t know whether he was congratulating us on a job well done, or whether he was threatening to do away with us. There was a moment when I thought he said, ‘You ought to be dead, I bring in the mafia.’

  I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I had visions of the mafia bursting into my room and doing away with me.

  In the morning I tackled him and found out I’d got it wrong.

  What he apparently said was, ‘You wrong in the head, I think you get daffier!’ And you know what, he’s absolutely right.

  BEDFORD

  SEPTEMBER, FRIDAY

  It’s Friday night, diary, and I’m all geared up for a weekend in Blackpool. By now the illuminations will be turned on, and according to rumour, they get better every year so, judging by the last time I saw them, I reckon they’ll be spectacular.

  I had planned to escape without you know who in tow, but unfortunately he brought in the post and opened what he thought was a circular. Of course it would have to be my hotel reservation wouldn’t it?

  ‘Some mate you are!’ he wailed. ‘I can’t believe you would do that to me.’ I thought he was about to burst into tears, ‘Since that business with the paint and then being locked in the yard like a criminal, I’ve been living on the edge. I need to get away as much as you do, and here you are jetting off on your own behind my back…you’re a selfish no-good article, that’s what you are!’

  I was not having that, so I told him straight, ‘We are not tied to each other.’ I laid the law down good and proper, ‘I don’t need you to know everything I’m planning. I don’t need your permission to go away for a break, and I do not need you hanging on my shirt-tails wherever I go. So, if I fancy going somewhere without telling you, I’ve got every right to do so! I’ve taken a few days off work, and I’m away to Blackpool. On my own. By myself. Me alone—especially without you!’ There! That told him.

  He got all uppity. ‘I don’t like the tone of your voice,’ he whimpered, ‘and what are you implying…hanging on to your shirt-tails indeed.’

  ‘I’m not implying anything. I just don’t want you thinking you can run my life, just because we share a flat. The fact is I’ve been through a lot lately…’

  ‘Yes, and so have I!’

  ‘Not as much as me. For a start you don’t have to put up with some twit like you, who you trust to buy proper paint and who turns the entire neighbourhood into something out of a science fiction horror!’

  ‘Maybe not, but it was me who had to do the top of the walls again; it was me who had to climb the ladder, and it was me who had to clear up afterwards.’

  ‘Quite right too! It was you who caused the whole mess in the first place!’

  ‘I wouldn’t have, if you had chosen the paint instead of making me do it, and now I’m a bag of nerves, and I need a holiday. Please!’

  ‘You’re a bag of nerves, are you? Well, I’m at breaking point. I’ve been really down since that disastrous engagement party. My ex is stalking me big time, and Poppy is driving me crazy, peering round corners at me and then running off. If I don’t get away, I think I’ll go out of my mind. So, I’m taking a few days off, and I’m heading for Blackpool.’

  ‘I can have my bag packed and be ready in five minutes tops. PLEASE?’

  He was trying his old tricks to make me feel guilty again, and wasn’t having it. ‘Dickie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Read my lips! You are NOT coming, and that’s an end to it!’

  ‘So, you don’t want me with you, is that what you’re saying?’

  Gordon Bennett! Can you believe him?

  ‘No, Dickie! I do not want you with me. Now if you don’t mind, it’s not up for discussion!’

  Right up to midnight he threw tantrums; he sulked and moaned, and even threatened to wreck the place while I was gone. I told him, ‘You do that, and you’d best not be here when I get back!’

  ‘Take me with you then?’

  ‘NO!’ I reminded him, ‘You need to be here to take care of the dog.’

  ‘I’ll bring him with me. He’s no trouble.’

  ‘The answer is no!’

  ‘I’ll put him in the kennels then. Or I’ll get Antonio to look after him while we’re away.’

  ‘I said No!’

  ‘I’ll tell your ex where you’ve gone.’

  ‘You wouldn’t!’

  ‘I would.’

  ‘I reckon you would too. Right then, I’m not going to Blackpool. I’ll just take off and go somewhere else, and nobody will know where I am.’

  ‘What? Not even me?’

  ‘Especially not you!’

  ‘I’ll follow you. I’ll sit up all night and wait for you to leave, then I’ll follow you, and I don’t care if it’s the other side of the world, because I’ll have my passport with me. I’ve got money saved and the right to take two weeks off, because I haven’t taken my owed leave yet.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay…what?’

  ‘Okay, I’ll take you with me.’ A plan was hatching even as I told him, ‘First thing in the morning, you go and make it right with your boss, and I’ll have a bag packed and wait for you until you get back.’

  He made a very nasty face; even nastier than usual. ‘You must think I’m stupid!’

  ‘That’s rubbish! I don’t think you’re stupid at all. Just a pain in the arse!’

  ‘I don’t have to make it right with my boss. I can just call him. Anyway, he doesn’t really need me right now. He’s got a student doing work experience. He told me the other day that I could take my leave whenever I wanted.

  I was disappointed, but not beaten, ‘All right. Call him in the morning. Pack your bag tonight, and we’ll be away early. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ He was over the moon, ‘I meant to watch a film tonight, but I’ll download it off iplayer instead. I want to make sure I’m up bright and early.’ He marched off to the kitchen, ‘Want a beer?’

  ‘No, best not. If I have one, I’ll want two, and if I have two, I’ll want another, and then I’ll be fit for nothing, let alone driving to Blackpool.’

  ‘A coffee then?’

  ‘No. It’s bound to keep me awake.’

  ‘Can you lend me a few quid?’

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘To pay my hotel room.’

  ‘You said you had savings!’

  ‘I lied!’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘All right…what?’ His eyes popped out of his head, ‘You mean…you
’ll lend me some money?’

  ‘I mean I’ll pay for your room, but I want the money back with interest. Agreed?’

  ‘That’s mean!’ he nagged, ‘I always lend you money when you’re a bit short, and I never ask for interest.’

  ‘When have I ever asked you for money?’

  ‘Can’t remember.’

  ‘That’s because I have never asked you!’ Dickie had conveniently forgotten he’d lent me rent money after the Nancy Cruddle incident, but I was not about to remind him.

  ‘Well, you might one day. Anyway look, you pay for the hotel and the next time we go anywhere for a break, I’ll pay for your room. Then you won’t owe me anything and I won’t owe you anything. That’s fair, isn’t it?’

  I never could follow his reasoning, ‘You live in cloudcuckoo land you do!’

  ‘But we’re agreed. Right?’

  ‘Right!’ It was easy to agree; especially as he would not be coming with me.

  I went to bed and sat up until he was fast asleep and snoring like a good ’un. Then I waited for half an hour before sneaking downstairs with my bag; the loud snoring playing a tune as I went.

  EARLY SATURDAY MORNING

  I crept out of the house and got into the car. I started the engine and set off, free as a bird, thrilled to have left him behind, snoring and all. It’s not that I don’t care for Dickie, because he’s my mate. Now and again though, I need to clear my head and be by myself. That’s not too much to ask.

  I turned on the radio and sang along. There was no one to upset or follow me: no Laura, no Poppy, no mad women with poodles that wanted a haircut, nobody going manic with the water hose, and best of all, no Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants!

  The old car was doing all right until suddenly I could smell burning, like the engine was on fire, ‘Oh no, that’s all I need!’ As I slowed down the smell got stronger and my heart sank to my boots, ‘I’m gonna die in this car, burned to a crisp…’

  ‘It’s not the engine, you prat! It’s the dog. Them chicken leftovers must have gone off. Sorry, mate!’

  Looking in my rear-view mirror, I saw Dickie leering back at me. ‘YOU!’ Swerving out of control, and with the two of us screaming, I skidded to a halt on the grass verge, ‘YOU DAMNED IDIOT!’ I swung round, the dog leaped up from the floor and the stench from his rear end took my breath away. When he loudly trumped again it was the last straw. ‘GET OUT!’ I screeched, ‘BOTH OF YOU…OUT OF MY CAR!’

  In fact we all had to get out, or be poisoned.

  I felt sick, and it wasn’t just the smell (which in hindsight could have been the dog or Dickie I wasn’t sure). The thing that really terrified me was the idea of that dog and Dickie, in Blackpool, in my hotel.

  In fact, would they accept the dog?

  More to the point, would they accept Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants? Not if they’d got any sense they wouldn’t!

  ‘How come you got in the car so quickly?’ I can be so naïve at times, ‘I’m sure I heard you snoring as I came out.’

  ‘I guessed what you were up to, so I made a tape,’ he boasted. ‘But before you start panicking, I slipped a note under Antonio’s door asking him to turn the recorder off.’ He gave this knowing grin, ‘I should have asked him to look after Battersby, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, good idea! I could be unbelievably cruel, ‘With luck he might have mashed him up and put him in the battered fish cakes.’

  ‘Wicked swine.’

  ‘You should have put him in the kennels,’ I argued.

  ‘Who? Antonio?’

  ‘Don’t be daft! I meant your smelly dog, and besides, Poppy has a soft spot for him.’

  ‘She’s got a soft spot for you an’ all!’ He said with a wink. ‘I’ve seen the way she ogles your bum when you walk down the drive.’

  ‘Don’t be daft! Anyway, I expect Poppy already has a boyfriend!’

  ‘Only because she can’t have you!’

  ‘Right! That’s enough! Stop arguing.’

  ‘I’m not arguing!’

  ‘You are!’

  ‘NOT!’

  ‘ARE!’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘Who says?’

  ‘Me!’

  ‘Why don’t you shut up?’

  Heaven help us, Blackpool…here we come!

  ON THE ROAD

  SEPTEMBER, SATURDAY

  Dear diary,

  Thanks to Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, the trip to Blackpool turned out to be my worst nightmare; the journey was an absolute fiasco.

  That stinky mutt was so full of wind we had to stop every few miles and throw him out. Then, what with Dickie moaning that he was hungry enough to faint, we had to pull in at every service station along the motorway. Altogether we added two hours to the journey.

  ‘Are you sure the hotel allows dogs?’ Setting off for the umpteenth time, Dickie wailed on about the mutt, ‘I’m not staying without Battersby! We’ll sleep on the beach if we have to!’

  ‘Do what you like!’ I told him straight, ‘As for me, I’m gonna curl up in a soft, warm bed. My days of sleeping rough are over!’

  Dickie threw a sulk, ‘You know what’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I expect you’re about to tell me.’

  ‘You’re old before your time, that’s what!’

  ‘Huh! You’re older than me!’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So you should be the sensible one.’

  ‘I am!’

  ‘Not!’

  ‘Am!’

  ‘All right then. Who insisted on coming off the motorway to find a quiet lane?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘That’s right!’

  ‘Only because Battersby needed to do his business.’

  ‘Why didn’t you make him hang on?’

  ‘I would have, only you said he stank.’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly!’

  ‘You don’t like him, do you? Don’t deny it!’

  ‘I can’t understand why he didn’t go at the service station.’

  ‘There was nowhere private for him to go. No woods, no big lorries, and no dark corners to hide in.’

  ‘Don’t be daft! He’s just a dog. They don’t care where they do it.’

  ‘He might be a dog, but he’s shy, and he’s a thinker; he has his principles. Anyway, how would you like to go in full view of everyone?’

  There was a kind of lopsided logic in his argument, ‘All right, so when we found that hedge in the back lane, why didn’t he just do his business and get back to the car? Why did he have to cause such chaos?’

  Dickie went into a sulk. ‘It wasn’t his fault; he cocked his leg and ended up in a deep ditch. How was he to know what was lurking behind that hedge!’

  ‘So, why did you have to throw yourself in after him?’

  ‘I had no choice. You saw how upset he was…all that crying and shouting…’

  ‘That was you, not the dog.’

  ‘If you’d only helped me, I would never have lost my footing!’

  ‘And I’ll never understand how the two of you ended up at opposite ends of the ditch.’

  ‘I already told you what happened! The rain loosened the earth and when it collapsed in great clumps, it just carried me with it.’

  ‘Not far enough though!’

  ‘You don’t mean that…do you?’

  Maybe I didn’t really mean it, but I was at the end of my tether. The original idea had been to steal away on my own and get my head together after a really hard time at the kennels. I was crushed when I discovered I had squatters in my car; a whimpering, cowering dog and a slimy, mudcaked Dickie.

  Then the rain came down like heaven’s hardest. I lost my way and then I didn’t know where I was.

  ‘Look, Ben. Turn left…quick!’ Dickie had spied a grimy little street with a sign that said: FOOD AND DRINK HOT AND TASTY.

  ‘Look! The arrow points down there.’

  ‘All right! All right! I can see for myself!’

 
; ‘Go on then, put your foot down!’

  I put my foot down, and drove twice up and down the grim little street, but there was nothing that resembled a café.

  ‘Somebody’s messed with the sign!’ I was really worried now. ‘We’d best find a route back to the motorway.’

  ‘Not yet! The sign definitely said there’s a café. We must have gone past it. Try again!’ Dickie was adamant.

  I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see a pathetic, shivering dog and a wild-eyed, mud-spattered Dickie—the pair of them breathing down my neck. It was like the Twilight Zone, ‘Get back, the pair of you.’ I felt really nervous, ‘Get back now, or I’m heading home!’

  They backed off and I drove down the street again and there, tucked in between two derelict shops, was a grubby little café. ‘THERE IT IS!’ Dickie was leaping up and down, and the mutt had me by the neck so I couldn’t see a thing. I was near fainting from the toxic fumes he breathed all over me, ‘GET THE DAMNED THING OFF ME!’

  With the mighty Battersby slobbering down my shoulders, and Dickie leaping about like crazy, I could hardly control the car, let alone see where I was going. ‘PULL OVER!’ Dickie yelled at me, ‘PULL OVER NOW!’

  Dazed, bruised and totally disorientated, I pulled over and locked all the doors. ‘I’m not getting out of this car!’ They could torture me all they like, but I was not going to give in. ‘I’m going home!’ I really did not like the look of the place.

  ‘Why not? It looks all right to me. It’s got a menu in the window and an OPEN sign hanging on the door. Besides, all the lights are on, and I can see somebody moving about in there.’

  ‘Where?’ I peered through the gloom, ‘All I can see are some little tables and a counter. If you see somebody moving it’s probably the resident ghost. I say we go on and find somewhere else.’

  ‘NO!’ Dickie insisted. ‘All we need is a sandwich, a drink, and a place for me and Battersby to clean up.’

  ‘Well, I vote we move on. This place makes me nervous.’

  I was about to drive away when the dog leaped over the seat and straight into my lap, ‘GET OFF!’ I fought like a hero. ‘GET HIM OFF!’