Inspector Hobbes and the Curse - a fast-paced comedy crime fantasy (unhuman) (27 page)

‘Yes
… it’s a long walk.’ My throat was dry.

‘You
do look hot. Wine or ginger beer?’

‘Both,
please.’

As
she sat up, reaching for the bottles, I sat down beside her, knowing with
absolute certainty that I really did not give a damn about her wealth or what
her brother thought of me. What I wanted was her, and I didn’t mean physically:
at least not just physically. Before anything, though, I needed a drink. As she
handed me a glass of ginger beer, I gulped it down in one, glugging a glass of wine
straight after it.

As
I sat there, my thirst quenched, I came to a firm decision that, whatever Felix
might do later, I was going to kiss her. I would, definitely, without
hesitation, should an opportunity arise, in the fullness of time, kiss her. Finishing
off the last bottle of ginger beer, throwing back the last dregs, I gazed into
her gorgeous eyes.

Her
face was just a few inches from mine and, taking myself by surprise, seizing
the opportunity, I leaned forward and held her gently by the shoulders. Reassured
by her easy sway towards me, I puckered my lips, looked deep into her dark eyes
… and burped.

‘Oh,
God,’ I said, recoiling, ashamed, ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it, it was all
the fizz.’

Without
trying, I’d blown it, done what Felix wanted, leaving me embarrassed, feeling
like a total klutz.

However,
she seemed to be taking it rather well. Rolling back onto the rug, she lay
there rocking, little gasps of amusement soon becoming helpless laughter,
continuing for what seemed like ages. When, at last, it looked as if she might
be regaining control, she glanced up at me, catching my eye, starting again and
setting me off. I collapsed on the rug beside her and, next thing I knew, she
was lying half across me, her face buried in my blazer. Eventually, our
laughter subsiding, she pinned me to the rug and kissed me full on the lips,
making my head swirl as if I was on a fairground ride, the kiss lingering
until, far too soon, she pulled away, sitting up abruptly. My lips still
tingling, I reached for her hand.

‘What
was that?’ she said, pushing me away.

‘Just
a kiss,’ I said, deflated, disappointed. It had been good for me, the first
real one I’d enjoyed in years, since Jenny Riley had pounced on me in the
playground during a game of kiss chase; I’d been running away very slowly.

‘Not
that. Something’s out there, didn’t you hear it?’ Wild-eyed, she stared into
the woods.

‘What
do you mean?’

‘An
animal I think.’

I
sprang to my feet, genuine dread gathering in my stomach. ‘What sort of animal?’
I asked, a big, dangerous cat springing to mind. ‘Where?’

‘I
don’t know.’

Taking
my hand, she pulled herself to her feet, her body trembling as she snuggled
against me. Suddenly alarmed, I put my arm around her shoulders, which
certainly comforted me.

‘We
should probably go,’ I said. ‘What do you think?’

She
nodded and, releasing her with regret, I threw the last odds and sods into the
hamper, piled the rugs on top, and picked it up. Grabbing Felix’s folding chair,
she held it like a weapon, urging me back to the car, while I concentrated on keeping
as close together as possible, feeling sure she was making a real effort not to
run. At last, reaching the car park, hurrying towards her car, she rummaged frantically
through her little hessian bag, her eyes as big as headlights.

‘I
can’t find the keys,’ she said, her voice shrill, on the edge of panic.

‘It’s
alright,’ I said, panting and sweating, resting the hamper on the bonnet,
catching my breath.

‘It
isn’t!’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I must have dropped them. I’m not going
back to look. I’ll call Felix and get help.’

‘Don’t
worry,’ I said, trying to be reassuring, ‘I’ve still got them.’

‘Thank
God.’ Her face was as white as a fridge door and her hand was trembling. ‘Give
them here.’

‘They’re
in my pocket. I’ll just put this down and …’

Thrusting
her hand into my trousers, she grabbed the keys, the touch of her warm hand in
such an intimate spot like an electric shock through all my nerves, though not
at all unpleasant. Even so, it paralysed me for a second or two, by which time
she’d opened the car doors, sat down and was scrabbling to get the key in the
ignition. Chucking the hamper into the back seat, I threw myself in beside her
as, the engine bursting into life, we drove away in a plume of dust.

‘Let’s
get out of here,’ she said, through clenched teeth.

‘Yeah,
let’s. But … umm … what was it? A panther?’

‘No.’
Shaking her head, turning the steering wheel, tyres screeching, she drove into
the main road.

‘What
then?’ I asked, the acceleration pinning me back.

‘I
don’t know.’

‘Do
you think,’ I said, noticing the speedo creeping up to ninety, ‘we might be
going a little fast?’

‘We’ve
got to get away.’

‘But
we’re safe now,’ I said, trying to calm her, worried that she was driving like
Hobbes in a hurry, but without his reflexes.

Shaking
her head, she leaned forward, hugging the wheel, as if urging the car ever
faster.

I
held my breath and the edge of my seat as we screeched round a bend. ‘We must
be miles away by now. It can’t possibly catch us.’

Her
manner, even more than her driving, scared me while Felix’s remark about
breakdowns made me doubt anything had been out there, for her change of mood
had been so swift, she could easily have been mentally unstable, no doubt
explaining why she’d taken a fancy to me. Perhaps my kiss had driven her over
the edge.

‘Please,
slow down,’ I said. ‘You’re starting to frighten me. This road’s not very …’

‘Sorry,
Andy. We’ve got to get away.’

‘But
I don’t understand. What did you see? A fox, maybe?’

‘It
was no fox,’ she shouted, her face flushed and angry.

Hitting
a pothole, the car swerved, for a moment looking like it would veer into a tree,
before she regained control.

‘You
must have seen something … umm … what was it?’

‘Something
in the woods.’

‘Can
you describe it?’ I asked. ‘Careful!’

We
rounded a bend too close to the verge, the back tyres bumping.

‘I
didn’t
see
anything,’ said Violet, ‘but something was there.’

‘But
what?’

‘You
wouldn’t believe me.’

‘I
might but, please, slow down, for God’s sake, we’re coming to a village.’

Taking
a deep breath, she nodded, slowing quite a lot as we approached the first
house, a stone cottage with scruffy garden and leggy hollyhocks round the
front. Bright yellow light was pouring from its open front door and a white pig
with stuck up ears hurtled out, demolishing the garden gate, stopping in the middle
of the road, sniffing something that had been squashed.

As
Violet stamped on the brake, only my seat belt stopped me from kissing the
windscreen. The tyres squealed. The pig looked like a goner. As we swerved, missing
it by a grunt, we hit the kerb and lurched off the road. For a moment there was
darkness, and then greenery, a thump and evening light. The car stopping at
last, I turned towards Violet, who was slumped forward, still gripping the
wheel.

‘Are
you alright?’

She didn’t move.

Unbuckling
my seat belt, I leapt from the car and ran round, pushing through a jungle of
bamboo canes and clinging plants until I could pull the door open. ‘Are you
alright?’ I asked again, reaching for her hand.

She
turned towards me, blood oozing from her mouth and nose. ‘I think so but my lip
hurts. You?’

‘I’m
fine,’ I said, leaning over, turning off the ignition, pulling out the key.

‘Good,’
she said. ‘And the pig?

‘We
missed it.’

 She
nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, Andy.’

‘Don’t
worry about me,’ I said, ‘there’s no real harm done, that’s the main thing.’

‘No
real harm done?’ a man shouted. ‘You’ve ruined my hedge and destroyed my runner
beans.’

A
hefty, bald-headed, middle-aged man in a checked shirt and olive corduroy
trousers was striding towards us from an old stone cottage, his face, red and
contorted with rage, complementing his voice. We’d crashed into a country
garden, one that might have been idyllic before our arrival, with roses
blooming around the cottage windows, a vine clinging to its walls and raised
vegetable beds that were lush and green.

‘I’m
ever so sorry,’ I said, holding up my hands in apology, the keys jangling, but
a pig ran across the road and …’

‘Sod
the bloody pig!’ the man bellowed, ‘you were probably speeding. I know you lot
with your flashy clothes and expensive motors, tearing up the countryside,
wrecking people’s gardens. Just look at my hedge! My great grandfather planted
it a hundred years ago and you’ve just ruined it. I’ll have the law on you,
just see if I don’t. You’re going to pay for it and for what you’ve done to my
runner beans. Now get off my bloody spuds!’

‘Sorry,’
I said, making sure to place my feet where they would cause least harm, making
a big play of causing no further damage. Unfortunately, my attempted leap onto
the path falling short, I stumbled backwards.

‘Get
off my bloody carrots!’ the man screamed.

His
face turning almost purple, his meaty hand seized my collar, dragging me off
his precious vegetables onto the garden path. I was convinced he intended
pulverizing me until Violet groaned. Turning my head, I watched her slide from
the car, collapsing, lying still on the ground. The man, dropping me like a bit
of litter, ran towards her. I couldn’t help noticing that he went right through
his carrots and potatoes.

‘Are
you hurt, my dear?’ he asked, rolling her onto her back with surprising
gentleness.

She
didn’t reply.

‘What’s
wrong with you?’ he bellowed. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me there was an
injured woman in the car?’

‘I
was going to …’

‘Shut
up,’ he roared at the top of his voice. ‘Maureen!’

A
stout, little woman with permed white hair and sallow skin hobbled from the
cottage, looking confused. ‘Yes, Tom?’

‘Call
an ambulance. Tell them there’s been a road accident and that a woman’s
unconscious.’

‘Yes,
Tom,’ she said, retreating.

Running
towards Violet, I knelt at her side, feeling useless and terrified she was
dying, holding her hand, shocked by how clammy and cold it felt.

Then
I remembered my ABC.

A
was for airways. Wiping blood and soil from her mouth and nose with the edge of
my shirt, I made sure everything was clear.

B
was for breathing. It was alright, her chest rising and falling, though faster
than I’d have liked.

C
was for circulation. Placing two fingers against her neck, finding the pulse, I
was relieved beyond joy to feel how strong and regular it was.

The
only blood was coming from a small split on her lower lip and from her left
nostril.

‘What’s
going on?’ asked a tall, angular woman standing where the hedge had been.

‘This
idiot,’ said the angry man, ‘has crashed his car through my hedge and badly
injured the young lady. Maureen’s calling an ambulance but I fear it’s too
late.’

The
woman stared at me through dead fish-eyes. ‘I bet he’s been drinking. They’ve
always been drinking.’

‘His
breath stinks of it,’ said Tom. ‘They’ll put him away this time, if there’s
still any justice in this country.’

‘And
good riddance,’ added another spectator, an owl-faced man, peering at me.

Several
people were soon at the gap, staring at me with contempt. Ignoring them as best
I could, taking off my blazer, I laid it gently under Violet’s head, trying to
decide whether I needed to put her into the recovery position, longing for the
ambulance to turn up. When at last her eyes opened, she stared up at me as if I
were a complete stranger and tried to sit.

‘No,’
I said, placing a hand on her shoulder, ‘it’s best if you lie still until the
ambulance gets here.’

‘Where
am I?’ she asked, clawing my hand away roughly, sitting up anyway.

Though
my hand stung, four little bleeding scratches showing where she’d made contact,
I forced myself to ignore it. ‘You’re in this gentleman’s garden,’ I said.

‘Felix?’

‘No,
it’s me, Andy.’

‘Are
we having a picnic?’

‘It’s
no bloody picnic,’ Tom muttered.

‘Did
we catch many this time?’ she asked, staring as if she thought she should know me,
but couldn’t quite place me.

‘How
many what?’ asked Tom.