A Quiet Evening In

More happy hokum for the faithful few.

And even non-followers of S and J may find the working of the tricky hustle, a third of the way into chapter 78, of interest).

"Don't panic, Jeffrey, I'm used to being closely cross-examined - follow my lead."

"I invariably do, Susie, but try not to take us on a ramble up Mount Improbable and into cloud-cuckoo-land with your explanations."

"A creative defence may be a necessity, Jeffrey, if the elders are looking for a scapegoat to supply their pound of flesh."

"In that case, Susie, let Denise play Portia and be the mother of invention."

Susie and Jeffrey 70 - 78 by Jamie Hayworth

 

 

 

 

Chapter 70

"It's surprise, surprise all round, Mrs Smith!" Susie threw up her arms and sprang forward. "How on earth did you find me ... and your Denise?"

"Never mind that, Susie," I cried. "Mum's here! I told you she'd drive a million miles for one of my smiles."

"It's Denise, Denise." Susie jabbed her finger over my head as mum gaped in amazement. "Say something, Denise, before we have a full-blown identity crisis."

"It's me, mum ... Jeffrey," I silently mouthed.

"Baby, it's you!" Mum found her voice, and an expression of relief swept over her face. "Oh, thank God - come here, my little lamb."

I rushed across and fell into her arms. "I knew you'd never desert me, mum."

Susie bounded over and joined in our hug. "I hope we haven't upset you by turning Denise into such a grownup girl."

"Aaah, where did they come from?" Mum exclaimed, as we squashed against one another. "What's happened to ..."

"Don't be alarmed, Mrs Smith, they're not permanent." Susie cupped my left breast. "See - it's only padding. Underneath all this, it's the Denise you know and love."

"I'm sorry if they're in the way, mum," I apologised, and tried to wriggle them in between hers. "They've a life of their own."

"Oh, just let me hold you, my darling. I still can't believe it's really you."

"Yes, it is Denise," Susie emphasised yet again. "And don't worry, Jeffrey's okay too. We left him ferreting around 'Cash in a Flash', hunting for a bargain. He wanted to be alone - you know what he's like."

"It's all right," mum smiled, "I've got the message. That's the Jeffrey of old. We'll let him root in peace for the time being, shall we, Denise?"

"He'll appreciate it - he enjoys pursuing his simple pleasures."

"In contrast to you, Denise, - what have you done to your hair?"

"It's only a wig, mum."

"But it's such a transformation - with that and the other extras, I didn't know what to make of you."

"We said her own mother wouldn't recognize her, Mrs Smith."

"I'd never want that, mum. I'm sorry if I've gone a blonde too far."

"Oh, baby," she sobbed, and wiped at her eyes. "I feared you'd gone for good."

"Don't cry, mum - you're not mad at me, are you?"

"No, no, they're tears of happiness. I'll never forgive myself for abandoning you last night. The house was so empty without you."

"I missed you too. It felt like the world had collapsed around my ears."

Mum hugged me even closer. "I know what you mean," she choked. "For a moment, when I didn't see you with Susie, I thought you'd been blown to smithereens."

"Uh-oh," Susie whispered in my ear. "It's time to act the dumb blonde, Marilyn."

"Smithereens - what are they - little bits of Smith?" I giggled.

"It's no laughing matter, Denise, I feared the worst. I was scared you were still in there."

"I don't understand." I looked wide-eyed at mum. "In where?"

"Susie's uncle's, of course."

"You've been to his funeral parlour, have you, Mrs Smith?"

"Funeral parlour - what are you talking about, Susie?"

"He's an undertaker - didn't you know?"

"Your father never told me that, Susie. Oh, forgive me, Denise." Mum's hug peaked at girl-force 10. "I would have come straight for you if I'd known the full horror of your situation."

"It's okay, mum, I didn't have to spend the night in a coffin, or anything. I slept in a comfy feather bed in an old house in the country."

"Which is no more!" mum wailed, and squeezed me tighter. "Oh, what a narrow escape you've had."

"There's been some sort of an accident, has there, Mrs Smith - was it serious?"

"A catastrophe, Susie, the house was demolished, not a brick left standing. The firemen were searching through the rubble when I arrived."

"Crikey! Did you see Uncle Frank? I hope he's okay."

"He is physically, but I'm not sure about mentally. I could hardly get a word of sense out of him."

"That's nothing to go by - did he have much to say?"

"The poor man was shaking all over, Susie, he must have been in shock. And your aunt was struck dumb; she could only wave her arms about. I'm afraid I was rather short with both of them, but I was frantic about Jeffrey ... and Denise."

"It beggars belief, Mrs Smith, that the walls could come tumbling down. The house looked a tower of strength when we set off on our merry way this morning."

"Well, it's a ruin now. The scene's etched in my memory."

"It's no wonder you were dumbfounded by Marilyn. We're totally gobsmacked ourselves, aren't we, Denise?"

"Absolutely flabbergasted, Susie - but don't worry, mum, I'm tickety-boo and in the pink."

"I can see that." Mum pulled us into another huddle. "It's all I've been praying for."

"I'm enjoying this," I gasped from between their crushing embraces, "but would you mind easing up a bit? I can hear myself squeaking."

"You've turned into a real slippery customer," mum laughed, as they released me. "I'm still having a hard time getting to grips with what's become of you."

"Well, ... er, it's quite simple really ... but I think Susie's anxious to ask you something."

"I'm sorry to harp on about it, Mrs Smith, but did Uncle Frank give you any idea about what had caused the disaster?"

"Not directly, but his behaviour puzzled me; he was pacing up and down, muttering 'I should have known better than to leave the place unguarded'. Now, I'm wondering if there's cutthroat competition in the funeral business."

"It's not like scrap metal, mum."

"We never had our house blown up, Denise, and the blaze at the yard ..."

"Um, I don't want to intrude on your reunion," Stephanie emerged from where she had been discreetly busying herself behind the counter, "but did I hear you say someone's had their house blown up?"

"Oh, sorry, Stephanie, we were so pleased to see each other that we forgot our manners," Susie apologised. "This is Stephanie, Mrs Smith, she helped us out when we needed some emergency clothes."

"Emergency clothes?" Mum slipped back into bemused mode as they shook hands.

"They turned up looking like two bedraggled urchins. I sent them straight up for a hot shower."

"Denise ..."

"I'll tell you the full story later, mum, you've had more than your fair share of shocks for the moment."

"Not that it's anything shocking, Mrs Smith - just a very convoluted tale. It deserves your undivided attention."

"I'll see that it gets it, Susie." Mum promised, and turned back to Stephanie. "You've been very kind to them - I hope they haven't been too much trouble."

"Not at all, it was my pleasure. Don't upset yourself any more; I know how distressing witnessing an explosion can be."

"I wasn't actually there at the time, but it looked like a bomb had dropped. I feared my poor little Denise had gone up with it, and now I find she's been parading around naked, miles from home. I've suffered a double whammy."

"Would you like to sit down, Mrs Smith? I can get you a cup of tea."

"Thank you very much, but we've imposed on you enough already - I'm fine." Mum put her arm around me. "I've got my baby back and I just want to keep a firm hold on her. I don't know what she'll get up to next."

Stephanie raised an eyebrow and looked across at Susie. "Well, it seems that's two narrow escapes you girls have had."

"Not really, we've missed the main drama, as usual. All the interesting stuff has a habit of just passing us by."

"But the undertaker, having trouble with his insurance, that was your uncle, Susie."

"Some people are put off when they find out about his occupation, so I tend not to mention the fact. It's like having a black sheep in the family. Funnily enough, he feels the same way."

"You seemed quite concerned about the matter and you asked if I was insured against being blown up."

"Spooky, isn't it?"

"It is quite a coincidence. What put the idea into your head, Susie?"

"It must have been the after effects from Sunday."

"Is that all?"

"My lips are sealed on the subject; I've learned my lesson. Denise is always warning me that talking about these things tempts the fickle finger of fate to poke its runny nose into our affairs."

Mum looked up in alarm. "I hope you're not hiding something from me, Denise. Have you been flirting with danger?"

"No way, I've been faithfully following in Susie's footsteps. There's nothing at all for you to worry about, honest." I gently stroked mum's hand. "Are you okay? You still look a bit dazed."

"I'm fine - just astonished to see you dressed like that. I thought we had an agreement about how you ventured abroad."

"I didn't start out like this; I had a little accident."

"We were more the innocent bystanders, really."

"I'm sorry, Susie, but it doesn't look as if Denise could have fallen into that outfit without knowing it."

"Like Susie said, mum, it's been a long and winding road. I ..."

"The thing is, Mrs Smith, having to change clothes gave us a chance to play dress up with Denise. She was pining for you pretty badly, and we hoped it would stop her moping."

"That's right, mum, spending the night away from you was eerie. I woke up this morning, and for a moment I wasn't sure where I was - or who I was."

"I've always known who you are, Denise, but not quite to this extent."

"This is just a bit of silliness, mum, it's not the real me. I'm an intellectual - to the tips of my false fingernails."

Mum gave me a big smile. "I've never doubted that, sweetheart."

"What I know, Mrs Smith, is that you've a very beautiful daughter. Denise could have a career as a model."

"Stephanie's exaggerating, mum," I blushed.

"Not a bit of it, my dear, you're a natural on the cat-walk."

"This is another surprise for me, Denise, I thought you were dedicating your life to science."

"Maths, mum, and it's something that bores Susie, big time. So I'm really doing this for her; it sort of gives us a common interest."

"You know what they say, Mrs Smith - all work and no play - I've been trying to persuade Denise to broaden her horizons."

"And you've obviously succeeded, Susie." Mum ran her hand over my bottom.

"Oooooo!"

"That's not padding; it's all you, Denise. I never noticed how shapely you'd become down there."

"Yes, you have, and I explained it's a cyclist's bottom. It's an occupational hazard - like tennis elbow and athlete's foot."

"And housemaid's knee - my dad's got that. Mum's hoping it'll finish his rugby career before he has a heart attack."

"Shush, Susie, you'll upset, mum."

"Sorry, Mrs Smith, I only meant to say she gets anxious about him running around like a headless chicken in a china shop."

"I understand, Susie. Don't worry, Denise."

"Don't you, either, mum, it's this dress that's making my bum look big. It must have a heavy lining or something. And it's tight and black - isn't that a fattening combination?"

"Whatever it is, it's not suitable for a young girl, and neither are false breasts. When did you get the urge to have some that big?"

"They're strictly a temporary measure, Mrs Smith. Denise needed some help to fill out the dress; she won't be wearing them to school."

"I'm afraid I'm to blame," Stephanie confessed. "I slipped them in there; I always want to show of my wares to their best advantage. That's why I was hoping Denise and Susie would model for me next month."

"I think someone a little older would be more suitable," mum hedged. "They've no experience of such things. Denise, in particular, hardly knew what a dress was until last week."

"And her newly discovered enthusiasm for all things feminine shines through. Fresh faces - that's what I need."

"Wouldn't someone with a more professional attitude be better?"

"It soon goes to their head; the amount of hassle I've had with so-called professionals. I sense these two are such reliable girls. I was really touched by the concern Denise has shown over my wedding dress."

"I can believe that," mum smiled, and ruffled my wig. "She was so attached to it that I'm surprised she didn't sleep in it. In fact, she might have done for all I know."

"Aw, mum, it was just a little snooze; I'd had a busy day."

"Didn't she look wonderful, though, Mrs Smith?"

"Yes, Susie, I rather let myself be carried away by the whole affair. You made such a lovely couple; I was sorry it wasn't for real. Someday, though," mum sighed.

"Ah yes, they can't hide their love for each other - isn't it sweet? I wasn't sure if you knew their little secret; I'm glad you're so understanding."

"Kids, what can you do with them?" mum smiled. "They play me off against one another. I've indulged Jeffrey, and now Denise expects the same treatment when she gets up to her mischief. That's the trouble with twins."

"Well, I've no complaints about Denise - she's been a perfect little trooper for me. I imagine Jeffrey is just as cute. I hope to see them together - will he be coming along later?"

"That would be a real surprise," mum smiled. "Jeffrey's shy and he has no interest in clothes. To be truthful, he's a bit of a scruff. He'd walk around dressed like a tramp if I let him. He'd be embarrassed, surrounded by all this finery, wouldn't he, Denise?"

"Yes," I spluttered, "he had the mad idea he might somehow end up dressed as a girl if he came in here. He's wary of us always referring to him as the odd man out."

"It's my fault for teasing him by calling us the three missketeers," Susie confessed. "But I can't help it - Jeffrey looks more like Denise, than Denise looks like Jeffrey."

"Well, Susie, he won't be mistaken for Denise while she's dressed like that."

"I'm sorry, mum, I realise I've overdone it a bit."

"More than a bit - you'd better change back before we go."

"I can't - our clothes are wet ..."

"Denise, is that an excuse to stay dressed up?"

"No, honest, mum, we were really in a state, like Stephanie said. I'll be okay in this, now you're here to look after me."

"Even so, you can't take advantage of Stephanie's generosity."

"I won't be losing by it, Mrs Smith. After that dreadful business on Sunday, I had to write off my stock to insurance. Everything in here must be in pristine condition; I have a reputation to maintain."

"And so have you, Denise - Jeffrey may have second thoughts about being seen in the street with Marilyn. He'll be as stunned as I was."

"I want to get home, mum, and so will Jeffrey. He'll be wondering what's happened. He can walk behind if he's ashamed to be seen with us."

"Wouldn't it be better to look a little less glamorous?"

"I'll hide between you and Susie until we get to the car - then it will be plain sailing."

"And when we get home, you'll have the chance to take some more photos of the pair of us. I'm sure Denise's gran would like to see them, Mrs Smith."

"I'm not sure about that, Susie, this won't be so easy to explain as a reverse wedding. Nana still thinks of Denise as a child."

"Oh, mum."

"But a precocious one."

"And a pretty one," Stephanie smiled, "I hope Denise will do some more modelling for me. She and Susie make such a striking twosome."

"Well ..."

"We can't let Stephanie down after she's been so kind to us, Mrs Smith."

"I'll have to think ..."

BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNG!

"Oh, you've more customers, Stephanie, we'd better be on our way." Susie took mum and me by the arm and steered us to the door. "Excuse please, our public awaits."

The new arrivals turned their heads as we swept past. "Who's that - is she famous?"

"Not yet," Stephanie laughed, "but I've no doubt she will be one day."

"Oh, Denise!"

"Only in my chosen field, mum - I promise."

"And who knows what that will be?"

"I do, Susie."

"Best we keep our options open, Denise. I'll phone you later to make the arrangements, Stephanie. Ta-ra for now."

 

Chapter 71

"I'm glad we're out of there, Susie, I was a 'boop-boop-a-doop' away from revealing all."

"Luckily for us, your mother was on the ball in a flash, Jeffrey. She even convinced me you were twins. You handled the situation magnificently, Mrs Smith."

"Did I, Susie? I felt all of a quiver inside."

"You hardly batted an eye-lid. You were as cool as the proverbial frozen cucumber - and then some."

"Thank you, Susie, I'm glad my striving for the lotus position is bearing fruit."

"I wish dad would take a leaf out of your book; he has no self-control."

"What I do pride myself on is my understanding. Is there anything you'd like to say, now we're alone, Jeffrey - an opening statement, perhaps?"

"Funny old life, isn't it?" I hazarded.

"And?"

"I don't know where to start, mum."

"Try with how you arrived at your latest incarnation."

"I've been buffeted by events."

"Such as, Jeffrey?"

"Stuff happens," I shrugged. "The shot of accident, the dart of chance - Shakespeare - you can't argue with him."

"Anatomy is destiny - Freud."

"Shush, Susie, we don't want to trouble mum with the dark continent of psychology."

"Isn't she closer to the truth, Jeffrey?"

"Susie doesn't truly appreciate the randomness at work in the world."

"Really?"

"Like you finding us at Stephanie's - what were the chances of that?"

"Pretty good, judging from your appearance - I was looking for you, Jeffrey, and I knew your recent track record."

"Yes, well ... let's not get bogged down in technicalities. We're back together again - that's the most important thing."

"I can't argue with you there, Jeffrey, but wouldn't you like to flesh out the details a little."

"Not really, mum, I think we've pretty much covered the main points."

"Are you sure there isn't something you want to get off your chest?"

"I'm sorry I missed out on getting you a box of kippers. I meant to buy one as a present, but our affairs haven't gone quite as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"How rough has it been, Jeffrey?"

"Choppy with a slight swell, mum - that's all."

"Go on."

"I'd rather not. I feel in a somewhat surreal state at the moment; I won't make much sense. I'd better leave it to Susie."

"Like Jeffrey said, Mrs Smith, we've been the playthings of fate; we need to gather our thoughts. There'll be plenty of time to bring you up to date on the drive home."

"That'd be best, mum, you caught us unawares; I'm at a bit of a loss for words, really."

"You're letting your walking do the talking, Jeffrey. That's a pronounced wiggle you've got there - are you doing it on purpose?"

"It's the dress - and the shoes. I'm doing my best to get the hang of them, honest, mum. Ooops!" I skittered forward as I tripped over a raised paving stone.

"Jeffrey, I saw your knickers," mum scolded. "You must never go out on your own like this in future, do you hear? I shudder to think what might happen to you."

"Sorry, I'll be more careful," I promised. "And please could you go easy on the 'Jeffreys', someone might hear. You haven't had Susie's practice at double-talk."

"All right, Denise, and you stop casting glances over your shoulder. It's a cover girl's pose, especially the way you're doing it - definitely not suitable for in the street."

"I was only checking I hadn't broken a heel," I pouted.

Mum had a quick look down. "They're okay. About those shoes, Denise, they look very pricey. I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for. Having a shoe fetish can be ruinously expensive - believe me."

"They're second hand from a charity shop. They had a three-legged donkey to support, so it would have been embarrassing to leave empty footed. Nothing else would fit me - I missed out on a stout pair of hiking-boots by half a size."

"Couldn't you have settled for a book?"

"They only had 'Mills and Boon' - I didn't want to waste my money."

"The shoes can't have been cheap, Jeffrey."

"We were subjected to some very high pressure selling, Mrs Smith. You wouldn't believe the sales practices of those village shopkeepers. I was tricked into buying bottles and bottles of fake 'Obsession'."

"And it's not like I had any intention of wearing them; they were more of a souvenir - 'A present from Scronkey'. It's just a happy accident they were posh enough to go with this outfit."

Mum had another peek at them. "They are very smart, if a little too grown-up for you."

"You can borrow them if you like - and the dress."

"Well, ..."

"It'll suit you, Mrs Smith - you've got the figure for it."

"Thank you, Susie, but I doubt I'll be able to squeeze into it."

"Of course you will, mum, and my undies will fit you perfectly."

"And you could give Denise a few pointers on how to behave in extreme clothing."

"Maybe ... I expect there's a little stretch in it - and I've tried to keep myself in shape ..."

"Oh, mum, speed up a bit." I gave a sharp tug on her sleeve. "I think this is a good time to practice our aerobics."

"What do you mean, Denise?"

"I'm sorry, but I had a quick look over my shoulder again."

"Really, Denise, you shouldn't - it's provocative."

"I couldn't help it; I was aware of eyes boring into my bottom. I've developed a very sensitivite posterior - just ask Susie."

"I think you should keep those feelings to yourself, Jeffrey."

"Well, it's working for you now, mum, because there's a beady-eyed traffic warden on our tails. And he's definitely preparing for action; he has a victim in his sights. Are you okay on the meter?"

Mum glanced down at her watch. "Oh, my hour's well up - wait there!" She got a flying start on us and sprinted away towards our car.

"Come on, Susie."

"Don't you dare run after me in that dress, Denise."

"Sorry, mum." We pulled up and looked on in admiration at her swaying backside.

"Your mother's a fine little mover, Jeffrey, that must be where you get it from."

"I agree, Susie, and quite honestly, I was a bit put out by mum's criticism. I thought I was gliding along rather gracefully."

"I'd describe it as charmingly enticingly, Jeffrey - unlike that warden, he's fair galumphing along behind us. Quick, bend over, fiddle with something and let's see if we can provide a temporary distraction."

"Aw no, Susie, I've got to be extra careful; you heard what mum said."

"She won't see, and you don't want her to get a ticket, do you? That'll be eighty pounds down the drain."

"I suppose I could modestly check my seams ... if I had any."

"Just point your bottom in the right direction - I'll do the rest."

I decided a girl could decently give her shoes a polish. "Hey look, Susie, would you believe it? I can touch my toes in this dress; it's stretchy, just like mum said."

"You're catching the sunlight perfectly, Denise - hold that pose. Yoo-hoo, yoo-hoo, we're over here." Susie waved frantically at a pretend friend. "Bugger, it's not working, you'll have to give a little wiggle."

"Just a hint of one, then - I can't do blatant."

"That's it - your bum's flashing like a lighthouse - you've hooked him. Let your skirt ride up a trifle, and reel in your catch."

"This is so undignified, Susie."

"Eighty pounds, Jeffrey - imagine losing all that money for nothing."

"It's no good - he's the one that got away," I hissed from between my legs. "I'm no longer the main attraction. He's back on target; his eyes are fixed unwaveringly on mum."

"And he's putting on a spurt; it must be the exercise of power that turns him on. We're up against a little Hitler, dedicated to his job."

"Oh, mum's struggling to find her keys, Susie - do something. I don't want to get clamped in this gear."

"Whoa - hold your horses!" Susie thrust out an arm and blocked the warden's path. "Road closed - you can't come any further."

"Oooowww, my knee!" he yelped, as he avoided Susie and veered into a lamppost. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Mind where you step - we've lost a contact lens."

"What! You silly girl - out of my way. I've a quota to fill."

Susie grabbed onto a spindly arm. "This is an emergency. My friend walks in circles without it. Get down here and help us. It's the left one we're looking for."

"Let go! You're interfering with an officer in the pursuance of his duty." He pulled free and readjusted his hat. "If you'd knocked that off, it would have been criminal assault. I could have had you arrested. Now, make way before I do something you'll regret."

"Just a minute - don't be so rude." Susie jumped out in front of him as he stepped into the gutter. "You're a public servant and we're bona fide members of the public seeking assistance."

"You're too young to pay council tax. Move yourselves - I have an urgent task to perform."

"That can wait; you're right on the spot to help us." Susie pointed to the grid. "It's probably gone down there - lend us your stick thingy to lever it up."

"I'm a civil enforcement officer; I haven't got a stick thingy. And I wouldn't give you a lend of it, if I had."

"That isn't very friendly."

"I'm not paid to be friendly." He made a threatening gesture towards his top pocket. "Shift, or you'll be going in my book."

"Got it!" I straightened up as mum safely pulled away. "Panic over." I smoothed down my dress and turned towards the warden. "Thank you, sir, for your kind consideration," I smiled.

"Are you cheeking me?"

"No, it was a sincere 'thank you' from the heart."

"Well, it didn't sound like it to me - you develop special antennae in this job. I know when I'm being abused."

"What more can I say, but boop-boop-a-doop."

"Never mind 'boop-boop-a-doop'," he fumed, "you've cost me a certain ticket. You deliberately used delaying tactics."

"No, we didn't."

"Where's the lens, then? That's got you."

"I've put it back in." I blinked at him. "See, my eyes match now."

"Don't bat your eyelashes at me - I'm on duty."

"So am I; I'm undercover. Everyone volunteered, but I was the first choice out of all dose guys in the office to wear disguise."

"I've never seen you at headquarters. What's going on - who are you?"

"It's Marilyn - and she's teasing you," Susie beamed. "But you never lose by doing a good turn. Do you want to have your picture taken with her? It's only a pound and you get a free autograph."

He instantly brightened up. "Just a minute, are you busking? I can slap an instant fine on you for that."

"We're walking the streets, passing the time of day with people, and spreading a little gaiety. It was a one-off, special offer to make up for your disappointment."

"You were charging a pound."

"Only to cover our expenses - and we'd still be out of pocket."

"That's neither here nor there. Explain to me why your friend's dressed to kill. She must be selling something."

"We're performance artistes; this is street theatre. Marilyn's incognito - people don't recognise her without her sunglasses. Guess who she really is?"

"I'm not indulging in silly games; it matters not one jot to me. I've rubbed shoulders with royalty; my decisions can't be influenced by a minor celebrity."

"Well, if that's your attitude, we'll say goodbye."

"Not so fast - even if you aren't busking, you're still obstructing the highway, an equally serious offence."

"We didn't mean any harm - can't you let us go? Mum will go mad if I get booked while I'm tarted up like this. I'm supposed to be in my tutu, at ballet class, dancing the Nutcracker."

"You should have thought of that before - the law's the law."

"Take no notice of him, Marilyn, keep moving, and he can't touch us for it."

"That's where you're mistaken, because I have extensive discretionary powers."

"Then why don't you put them to good use and quit harassing us? Get on with your real job."

"The free flow of pedestrians falls within my remit. I have total authority over all that goes on along this street - from 'Kippers-R-Us' to the 'Novelty Rock Emporium'. It's my very own golden mile."

"You're so busy panning us, you're missing out on the big nugget. Look over there." I pointed up the road. "Someone's displaying their blue badge upside down and back to front. Isn't that a capital parking offence?"

"Where? I'd never miss one of those." He shielded his eyes and squinted along the line of cars. "I can't see anything."

"Right at the far end - it's as plain as day. Hurry up, and you might get him on two counts; going by his photograph, he's a picture of health."

"You've amazing eyesight for someone who wears contact lenses."

"They're only a fashion accessory; I have 20/10 vision like Chuck Yeager. I'm even thinking of becoming a fighter pilot."

"I saw that picture, Marilyn, you're full of the right stuff."

"And I'm doing the right A-levels; the only problem will be fitting it in with my modelling career."

"And being Prime Minister. We're both going to the top," Susie grinned at our persecutor. "You'd better keep in with us."

"Will you desist! I've wasted too much of my valuable time on you already."

"Bandits 120!" I whooped. "Down the road - parking on a double yellow line."

"That does it - you're nicked! I've had more than enough backchat from you two. Come on, I want your names and addresses."

"We're keeping stumm. Which amendment is it we take, Marilyn?"

"You can't fool me; you're not Americans. You, Marilyn, what's your name?"

"Don't tell him, Jeffrey."

"I warned you - no more nonsense. Cooperate or I'm calling for support."

"Oh look, Marilyn, he's going to need it," Susie yelled gleefully. "We're the least of his problems. Look behind you, Mr Plod. Something wicked this way comes."

"I'm not falling for that - and don't you 'Mr Plod' me."

"He's a nasty piece of work - what do you think, Marilyn?"

I peered over the warden's shoulder. A red-faced giant of a man with a shaven head and no neck was bearing down on us. "Oh, he's big and he's angry. I'm scared already."

"Get your tin hat on, mate, he's got muscles on his varicose veins."

"You're only making things worse for yourselves. I wasn't born yesterday. It'll take more than slips of girls to fool me."

"You'll wish you had one of those head-cams, so you could threaten to shame him on YouTube."

"Or a big truncheon, Marilyn."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"You're right, it's the sort of thing that could easily be turned against you."

The warden ignored us and opened his notebook.

"This is your last chance - get out the Mace," I urged him.

"For your information, I don't carry weapons; I rely on my training in people skills."

"He's had it, Marilyn."

"Unless he starts running."

"I won't tell you again ..."

"Is this your bleeding work?"

A large, hairy arm thrust a parking ticket under his nose ...

"What the ..."

... and a second one spun him around.

"This is the second time in a month."

"Hands off!"

"A blind man could see I was unloading."

"Hands off, I said. Rumpling my safety jacket could have serious consequences for you."

"Like what, Marmaduke?"

"Don't you 'Marmaduke' me - I've already been 'Plodded', and my patience is wearing thin."

"I'll marmalise you if you aren't careful, Marmaduke."

"Control yourself - this uniform commands respect for its wearer."

"Not from me, it doesn't."

"I'm an officer of the law, sir."

"Don't you believe it - he's a student in fancy dress like us."

"I am not! You keep out of this; I'll deal with you later."

"Give over, Horace," Susie persisted, "the joke's gone far enough. You're upsetting this gentleman."

"How did you know my name was Horace?"

"Because you're my brother."

"No, I'm bloody not. Have you been following me?"

"Pipe down, Horace." The man pushed the warden aside and turned to Susie. "What the hell's going on?"

"It's Rag Week. Horace is pretending to be a traffic warden. He's Mr Nasty and this is Miss Nice - our very own Marilyn. Make a contribution and she'll boop-boop-a-doop for you."

"We're running wild today, but we don't mean any harm. It's all for a good cause."

The colossus of the road smiled at me and relaxed a little. "It's not a genuine ticket, then - just a gag."

"That's right - we're all doing our bit to raise some money. I'm afraid I'm too bashful to be a believable Miss Monroe, but Horace has swallowed a drama pill and lost himself in his part."

"Don't you listen to her."

"Horace is what you call a method actor - the role's taken him over. It's spooky, but he's always loved dressing up in uniforms."

"Or her! Use your eyes - I've got all the official equipment."

"He borrowed it off our dad."

"Will you bloody shut up."

"That's no way to talk to your sister."

"You've gone back to the top of my list, you little madam." He turned to the lorry driver. "You bugger off and I'll forget the assault on my person."

"Don't you order me about."

"On your bike, before you cause a snarl up. If you're still here when I've finished with these two, I'll have you towed away."

"If you keep on with this silly stunt someone's going to get hurt, you weedy little shit." The lorry driver stepped forward and thrust his head into Horace's face. "I hate students even more than traffic wardens. You're asking for a nutting."

"Get out of my personal space - this is your last warning. Off you go."

"Not until you show me your red card, ref."

"All I need is this badge. Off, off, off you go - and think yourself lucky. Off, off, off!" Horace jabbed his finger into Caliban's chest for emphasis.

"Oh, don't do that!" I cried.

Smmmmaaaaaaack!

"Ooooowwwwwww! My dose, now you've done it, I'm summoning assistance."

"No, you're not."

"Get off my radio."

Smmmmaaaaaaash! The driver ground it under his foot.

"Now, Horace, what are we going to do next?"

I didn't wait to find out. "I know what we're doing, Susie." I took her arm and propelled her across the road.

"So do I, Jeffrey, we're running again - what is it with you?"

"Ooooowwwwwww!"

"I feel a bit guilty about our conduct, Susie," I confessed, as the warden's cries echoed after us.

"It's his own fault, Jeffrey, he started out with an attitude of complete intransigence - and it got worse."

"Ooooowwwwwww! Don't hit me- it's all their bloody fault."

"Keep going, Susie, he may be coming after us next."

"Oh, Jeffrey, he had the look of that bull about him; he might have the same turn of speed."

"Then let's make our good our escape by diving into the setting sun. Top air combat tactics as approved by Biggles. Tally-ho, Ginger - chocks away!"

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

"Run faster!"

"I am - but you're taking us in the wrong direction."

"Mum will have to circle round. It's a one-way street - didn't you see the sign?"

"Have you really 20/10 vision, Jeffrey?"

"I don't know. I'm getting into your habit of making up things on the spur of the moment."

"How about it being your mother's birthday?"

"It's next week, Susie."

"Good, I wouldn't want to have missed it. What should I get her?"

"Never mind that now - let's concentrate on the present present. If mum asks any awkward questions on the way home, don't you embark on any flights of fancy - keep your feet firmly on the ground."

"Message received and understood, Jeffrey - over and out."

"And one more thing, Susie," I warned, as we turned the corner, "don't ask mum to let you drive."

"The thought never crossed my mind, Jeffrey. I'll be content to sit in the back and leave everything to you. I'll see if I can pick up some valuable tips for dealing with dad."

 

Chapter 72

"Here she comes, Susie - walk don't run, or I'll have even more explaining to do."

"Then compose yourself, Jeffrey, and be extra careful how you make your entree - no splaying your legs all akimbo. Show your mother it's safe to let you loose in a tight skirt."

"I'm not sure about that."

"Yes, you are."

Our car pulled up, Susie opened the front door, and I slithered in beside mum.

"You did that very modestly, Jeffrey, have you been practising?"

"Not really, I'm keenly aware I should always act with decorum. When I'm out as Denise, Prudence is my middle name."

"That holds double, Mrs Smith." Susie settled herself on the backseat. "We've both kept a low profile these last two days. Patience and Prudence - that's us. If we hadn't been so backward about coming forward, we wouldn't have ended up on the wrong bus from the right place."

"And but for that first mistake, mum, none of this would have happened."

"What exactly wouldn't have happened, Jeffrey?"

"Nothing you don't know about already, mum; you've more or less got the whole picture. There isn't much else to tell. We've proceeded with extreme caution - especially me - no one's suspected a thing. I've kept myself to myself and hardly said a word; I've been demure little Denise the whole time."

"Until you decided to give the world your Marilyn Monroe impression, Jeffrey. Perhaps we should start there and work backwards. Are your own clothes really wet?"

"Absolutely drenched - they've been for a swim in a lake."

"This promises to be a very enlightening journey." Mum smiled, and eased the car into the traffic. "I take it you had them on at the time."

"Of course I did. I'd never go skinny-dipping," I huffed. "The very idea." I sat back and folded my arms.

"Don't leave me in suspense, Jeffrey, let's have the rest of the story - in detail."

"Well, it wasn't a very big lake - more a glorified paddling pool. I was never in any danger."

"Did you fall in on purpose?"

"It was a selfless act of daring, Mrs Smith. I dived in to rescue my cousin Trevor. I was duty bound because he's family - and I'd broken his foot."

"And without giving it a second thought, I plunged in after Susie."

"You can be very proud of Jeffrey; he did the knightly thing and stuck by my side."

"You were both foolhardy; you could have been drowned and got pneumonia - there's a chilly wind."

"We flew out of the water like ducks on a hot tin roof, Mrs Smith, but we still got soaked to the skin."

"We were sopping, mum, and straight away I remembered your warnings about the dangers of unaired vests and wet feet."

"So our first thought was to get into dry clothes as soon as possible."

"And not be too fussy about them, either, Susie."

"Exactly, Jeffrey. We were looking for a charity shop, Mrs Smith, but as luck would have it, Stephanie's loomed up out of the rising damp, and it was our natural first port of call."

"Where you managed to find yourself a nice sailor suit, Susie - couldn't you have done the same, Jeffrey?"

"I behaved like a gentleman and gave Susie first dibs. I was left with the tartan trews and I didn't fancy them."

"But Denise fancied that outfit."

"It looked ever so warm and cosy. I'd been shivering and in danger of exposure , don't forget. Besides, I thought it would give me an air of authority. It's what all your top women executives wear - I'm power dressing."

"Hardly, Jeffrey."

"Well, I was before the make-up and blonde wig - one thing just led to another. I may have been suffering from slight shock. That would sort of explain why I got carried away."

"I think you'd already been carried away, Jeffrey. You went out as Denise yesterday. Wasn't she supposed to be for around the house?"

"Susie had to go to the bank with our cheque and I didn't want to stay in by myself. Someone might have come round and noticed the lipstick - it still hadn't faded completely. How would I have explained that?"

"More easily than being caught fully dressed as Denise."

"I thought I'd be safe adopting an androgynous look."

"Which was?"

"Anorak and trainers ..."

"And jeans?"

"I did say androgynous."

"So you wore a skirt."

"Only a short one. It was barely noticeable under my top."

"Then I hope you picked out some sturdy underwear."

"It was more girly than sturdy, but I didn't show it off. Well, once or twice, maybe - and then only by accident. I admit I'd have been better off with something a bit less pink and frilly."

"But you still decided to wear them."

"Beggars can't be choosers - Aunt Jane rang and we were in a rush to get out. They were the first thing that came to Susie's hand."

"What have I told you about shifting the blame, Jeffrey?"

"I suppose I just might subconsciously prefer a snug fit. My boy stuff's like apple-catchers; you must have washed the elastic out of them, or something."

"Not every pair."

"It seemed like it. Anyway, y-fronts would have looked silly with a mini-skirt - and dangerously out of place."

"You haven't any y-fronts."

"Are you sure?"

"I should know; I buy them for you."

"Well, there you are, then, it was nothing to do with me. I had Hobson's choice."

"So, actually, you didn't appear a lot less feminine than you do now."

"He was lovely, Mrs Smith - it's his natural look."

"Those aren't, Susie." Mum indicated my breasts.

"Stephanie told you it was her idea to fill out the dress, and I persuaded Jeffrey to become Denise plus. They're just a bit of fun."

"Aren't they what you really want, Jeffrey? You seem to be making the most of them."

"Any boy would."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, mum. Seriously, I'm not going to walk around every day like this."

"What if you've no option?"

"I'm happy to leave Pinky and Perky to their own devices. I still favour the puppy fat theory. There are boys with bigger ones than mine - bigger than these even. And with bigger bums, come to that."

"Not so shapely, though, Jeffrey."

"Well, obviously, they aren't trying to make the most of their assets."

"But you are."

"Only occasionally - and it won't be a problem. If Pinky and Perky are going to reach this size, it'll take a couple of years, and I'll have left school by then."

I sighed, settled back in my seat and gave them a little caress.

"You're comfortable dressed like that, aren't you, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, now I've got used to it. I feel more secure; this skirt isn't liable to fly up at the slightest breeze. It's a bit restrictive, but it helps with my deportment. I think I have a tendency to slouch given the chance - old habits die hard."

"So, you enjoy being a girl and all that goes with it?"

"It has its moments," I grinned. "I'm happy as Denise with Susie. It's all a bit of a mystery, really."

"And ours not to reason why, Jeffrey."

"If you don't mind, mum."

"Have I ever?"

"No, you've let me get away with murder," I conceded, and gave her a sly smile. "You shouldn't let me take advantage of you."

"And you're becoming even more manipulative as Denise," mum laughed. "But like your gran says, I don't know what all the fuss is about - it's not like you've killed anyone."

"Hhruuuummph." A choking sound came from the backseat.

"What was that, Susie? I didn't quite catch it."

"I was about to say, you've a very understanding attitude, Mrs Smith, I only wish dad would follow your example."

"Jeffrey has always been so special to me, Susie; I hope it's not clouding my judgement. I've spoiled him since he was a baby, and his dad let me."

"He knew what I wanted, mum. Don't worry, this is just my little hobby."

"Our hobby, Mrs Smith - I'm here to take care of Jeffrey. You needn't worry, when he's dressed as Denise, no one will recognise him. He almost fooled you for a moment."

"It was the wig," mum smiled. "The last thing I imagined Jeffrey becoming is a dizzy blonde."

"You're right - it's not really me. I'll take it off."

"No, leave it for now, don't spoil the look. Go on, give us another 'boop-boop-a-doop'. You're ever such a cutie, Miss Marilyn."

"Aw, mum."

"I'm so happy Jeffrey's met you, Susie; he's too good to go to waste."

"He certainly is."

"I feared he was destined for a lonely life buried in his books. I'm glad he's found his someone-out-there-somewhere."

"Thanks, Mrs Smith - so have I."

I put my arm over the seat and took Susie's hand. "We've been inseparable on our little odyssey, mum."

"Through thick and thin together," Susie grinned.

"Not that we've been in the thick of it, or anything, mum. It was just an adventure being away from home for the first time."

"You're as thick as thieves. I think the less I know about your exploits the better."

"I wouldn't lie to you, mum."

"I won't put you to the test, Jeffrey, but one thing we should discuss is the deception you've involved me in with Stephanie."

"I don't think we told her any lies."

"Not even a fib or two?"

"It's been more like a sin of omission."

"That's right - all Jeffrey's done is answer to 'Denise' and she's just assumed the rest."

"And you've done nothing to disillusion her."

"Well, it would have been difficult - Stephanie's a bit of an enthusiast when she goes to work on me."

"She plucked us out of thin air on Sunday; it's not like we forced ourselves on her."

"Right, and I was suspicious of her at first, mum - I was a reluctant bride."

"But a less reluctant Marilyn."

"Slightly."

"You promised you'd model for her."

"I didn't. I havered."

"You what?"

"Havered - I do a lot of it as Denise. My havering, wavering, behavering ..."

"You're acting silly again, Jeffrey - this is serious."

"... gavering you a chance to say no to her plans if that's what you were favouring."

"I could hardly object when you were stood there dressed in her best clothes. You've put me in a very difficult position."

"It's okay, she doesn't know where we live. I can disappear of her radar, never to be seen again."

"That wouldn't be fair after you've led her on."

"I haven't," I spluttered. "It's been exactly the opposite."

"It doesn't appear that way to me, Jeffrey. She's totally unaware of the true facts."

"We don't want to disillusion Stephanie, Mrs Smith. Maybe we could compromise and do one show for her - to sort of pay her back."

"Possibly ... I'll have to think about it, Susie. But if I approve, Jeffrey will have to be confined to wedding dresses and nothing else. He's much safer going abroad as a bride."

"That's all right, then." Susie settled back with a satisfied grin on her face. "It's not until next month - there's no hurry, is there, Jeffrey?"

"None at all," I sighed.

"Was it a coincidence, Susie?" Mum asked, as we drove past the lane leading to Uncle Frank's.

"What, Mrs Smith?"

"Discussing explosions and insurance with Stephanie."

"I've been fascinated by double indemnity and accidental damage since I was a little girl."

"Susie!"

"Honest, Mrs Smith - that and rugby are dad's favourite topics of conversation around the dinner table. Mum insists that we all humour him; she says it's good for his digestion."

"It is a curious, though."

"We never mentioned explosions, mum. Susie was steering the conversation away from any sticky girly topics I might get caught out with."

"And that was the first thing to come into your head, Susie."

"It's not really surprising, Mrs Smith, after the events of Sunday, and the trouble Uncle Frank has had with the policy on his greenhouse."

"It was the throwing stones clause, wasn't it, Susie?"

"Jeffrey!"

"Sorry, mum, it was only a little joke."

"You're mum's right, Jeffrey, insurance is a grave business. Dad's paying in for me, and I could have a nice little nest egg when I'm twenty-one."

"Really, Susie, that's very good to know. I'll look forward to sharing your dowry."

"It's only if I'm orphaned in a plane crash, Jeffrey."

"Oh."

"Or the house is struck by a meteorite."

"Well, as long as you're not in it."

"I think it would be better if we dropped the whole subject," mum sighed. "I can't seem to get any sense out of you today. Now, shush until I safely negotiate this roundabout."

"Careful, mum, tractor and trailer up ahead."

"What are they doing?"

"Hauling away a dead cow."

"Oh dear."

"It's a bull, Mrs Smith - a big one, covered in blood."

"I'm not looking."

"You have to, mum, you're driving - keep your eyes on the road. You can't use the 'invisible car came out of nowhere' excuse again."

"Careful, mum, hazardous road surface up ahead."

"I passed through here on my way out; I had to wind up the window. There's an overwhelming smell of the farmyard about the place."

"Something's certainly spoiled all the neat whitewash."

"And one of dad's 'For Sale' signs - I hope he put 'delight in the natural fragrance of the countryside' on his blurb."

"There's definitely been some dirty work at the crossroads, Susie."

"Careful, mum, hazard tape up ahead."

"What a turn out, Jeffrey, I've never seen so many police cars."

"And television crews, Mrs Smith - it'll be the scene of a heinous crime. There'll be a body in there somewhere, mark my words."

"More than one, I shouldn't be surprised, Susie."

"The house of a Bluebeard - that's what springs to mind, Jeffrey. I'd never go within a bargepole of a place like that."

"Oh, I'll be glad when we're safely home. The things that go on out here."

"Dad always said there were some strange folk living on the Moss, mum. And the tales granddad tells ..."

"Don't, Jeffrey, it gives me the shivers when I think what could happen to a young girl out here alone - especially one as naive as you."

"I'm not naive, mum."

"You don't learn about life, stuck in a bedroom."

"I read a lot; I'm well up on the theory. You needn't worry, mum."

"I can't help it. This just reminds me how easily you could have landed in trouble."

"I didn't and I won't. Everyone's very nice to me as Denise, even though they don't know me from Adam - or Eve."

"You're an innocent in the ways of the world, Jeffrey."

"No, I'm not."

"Boys your age aren't still devoted to 'Thomas the Tank Engine'."

"It's 'James the Red Engine' - and it will always have a special place in my heart. It's the first story I remember you reading to me. I'll never forget how I loved listening to your voice."

"You were a beautiful baby," mum sighed.

"I only have to look at the pictures and turn the pages, and I'm back there, snuggled up to you. It's a wonderful, warm feeling."

"Oh, Jeffrey."

"I love you, mum."

"Watch out, Mrs Smith, you're going onto the wrong side of the road."

"It's okay, Susie, I just had something in my eye for the moment."

"Back across the river at last," mum sighed in relief, as we sped over the bridge. "We'll soon be home now, Jeffrey, and back in the old routine."

"I can't wait, mum, but I was wondering about school tomorrow - I think my lips may need another day or so, before they're presentable in class."

"And we've been nearly blown up again, I shouldn't be at all surprised if we were in an even more psychologically fragile state now."

"Too true, Susie, we don't want to suddenly plunge back into the hurly-burly of school life."

"Did you ever, Jeffrey?"

"I can't help being a reluctant schoolboy, but I'm not happy about missing out on my education."

"You can put your mind at rest, for a change, I know something you don't know ..." Mum paused and smiled.

"Go on - what is it?"

"School's out! Everyone was sent home Monday morning, and it's closed for the rest of the week, so you'll have plenty of time to recuperate."

"Gee, Mrs Smith, whatever will happen next?"

"I've no idea, Susie, it's another strange twist of fate for you to ponder over."

"Well, it was definitely nothing to do with us, was it, Jeffrey?"

"I don't see how it could be, Susie - unless you left a Bunsen burner on."

"Oooooohhhhh, Jeffrey!"

"Oh heck, the school hasn't gone up in flames, has it, mum?"

"You're in the clear - it's water not fire. The showers have to be decontaminated. They're the suspected source of the infection."

"Infection?"

"Yes, I was so relieved you were out of the way."

"Gosh, mum, what's wrong?"

"The rugby teams and quite a few others have gone down with Pontiac fever."

"Pontiac fever - I've never heard of that. What is it, Susie?"

"I'll have to google it to be sure, Jeffrey, but it's probably some kind of dysentery. Mikey got the trots after overindulging in Pontefract cakes."

"I'm sure it was Pontiac, Susie, and it's a chest complaint."

"That sounds more like it. What has eating Pontefract cakes to do with taking a shower?"

"Nothing directly, Jeffrey, it was a shot in the dark. I always associate Pontefract cakes with bowel movements, don't you?"

"Granddad certainly does, and a black draught to wash them down. It's an old remedy, but it puts a road through you."

"It sounds a bit primitive, Jeffrey."

"Gran's a great believer in eye of newt and wing of bat. It was hard work convincing her of the benefits of switching to All Bran, but granddad isn't half grateful."

"Mum has to force it down dad. And he says it's a rip-off charging so much for a waste product."

"Get the Asda version, it's exactly the same. That's what's granddad's on now, and he can eat as much bung as he likes. He's had no trouble since - never looked back, in fact."

"That's enough, Jeffrey."

"Sorry, mum."

"You haven't a temperature or any aches or pains, have you, Jeffrey?"

"No, I feel fine, mum; I never go near the showers. I avoid them like the plague; they're enemy territory."

"Maybe I should cool your blood with a good dose of Milk of Magnesia, just as a precaution."

"No, mum!"

"How about you, Susie, would you like some?"

"Is it any good for sore, swelled bums?"

"Yours is as fat as a pancake, Susie, stop harping on about it."

"Have you had a fall, Susie?"

"Several, and all on the same place - it's uncanny. What's more Jeffrey seems to take a great delight in my bumps."

"I'm full of sympathy, Susie, and I'll be looking out for you in the future. We'll do some extra studying in my room so you don't fall behind at school."

"Will that be okay, Mrs Smith?" Susie laughed.

"Of course, Susie, one thing about Jeffrey is he's always keen to explain things and he's very patient. His dad always hoped he'd be a doctor."

"I'm not a people person; I'm more your abstract thinker."

"You're a lot more outgoing as Denise."

"Denise doesn't want to be a doctor, either."

"Look how you took care of that needle in my heel - no hesitation, you knew exactly what to do."

"I dealt even quicker with your chip pan blaze, but that doesn't mean I'm destined to be a fire-fighter."

"And you'd make a good teacher as well."

"I'm getting some practice at that now," I grinned, "because taking the double maths class seems to be a hidden perk. Bazza looks in for five minutes before he retires to the staff room and leaves us to it."

"That doesn't seem fair, Jeffrey, everyone copying off you."

"Mr Barlow wants to encourage a spirit of cooperation and the sharing of knowledge. Open source he calls it - and it leaves him free to do the Guardian crossword."

"A very adult attitude, " Susie nodded, "I wish there were a few more teachers like that. Still, I've got my chance with you for the rest of the week."

"It's turned out very conveniently for both of you," mum smiled.

"A lovely piece of luck - by next Monday the lipstick will have well and truly faded. With a baggy pullover and pants, there'll be no sign of Denise's extras."

"I hope that will be good enough in future."

"I know how to act the geeky boy and keep my head down, mum. Jeffrey will be in the ascendant by the time school reopens."

"What about until then?"

"I suppose I'll just potter around with Susie. We're not going on another magical mystery tour. We might go out for a ride, that's all."

"As Jeffrey or Denise?"

"I don't intend stopping for anyone, and they'll both look the same on a bike."

"And at home?"

"Obviously, I won't be sitting around dressed like this waiting for the vicar to call."

"I'd be a lot happier if you did, Jeffrey. It's not knowing what you'll get up to next that worries me."

"I haven't been up to anything. When I went out, I looked quite demure, honest. I behaved impeccably the whole time. Ask Susie's uncle, I made a tremendous impression on him."

"And he's a difficult man to please, Mrs Smith, but Denise dazzled him with her erudition. He said she had a beautiful mind and was a paragon of virtue."

"Don't exaggerate, Susie, you're making me blush."

"I'm summing up his attitude in a few words, Jeffrey - it's poetic licence."

"That was very nice of him, Susie, I find it very reassuring."

"And what's more, he had Denise down as first choice for a daughter-in-law."

"Oh, Susie!"

"Oh, Jeffrey!"

"Oh, mum!"

"Nearly there now," mum smiled, as we crossed the tramlines. "The old car could find its own way home from here."

We followed the tracks into town and were passing Mikey's school when Susie pointed up ahead. "Look, Jeffrey, there's a commotion we missed."

We sped past a group of work vehicles and a big police notice asking for witnesses.

"The over-head wires have gone missing, Susie."

"Somebody stole over a  £100,000 worth of cable. First, it's manhole covers and now this; the things people get up to. It makes you wonder what will be next."

"Road signs would be my bet, Mrs Smith, and a lot easier too. That must have been a risky business - how did they do it?"

"They threw a rope over and dragged the lot down with a van."

"That doesn't sound very scientific, Jeffrey, it's a wonder they weren't electrocuted."

"My thoughts exactly," mum agreed, "they must be mad."

"You're not saying much, Jeffrey, I thought you'd be deducing who the guilty men were. You don't seem as interested in the crime as your mother."

"Mum always follow the ups and downs in the world of scrap metal, Susie. Your dad must be the same with housing related news."

"I suppose so - he does follow outbreaks of burglaries. They give him an opportunity to make a selling point of any alarm systems and CCTV."

"I've wondered whether we should get a dog, Susie, but Jeffrey's dead against it. You haven't had second thoughts, have you, darling?"

"You know I'm allergic to them, mum."

"Not physically - and all girls like ponies. Does Denise feel any differently?"

"No, and we especially don't like dogs as big as ponies. Can we change the subject, please? Say something, Susie."

"Leave it to me, Jeffrey, I want to know more about the great tram robbery. Were there any clues, Mrs Smith?"

"Only a peculiar odour around the place, Susie."

"Like from the fish meal factory?"

"Nothing so healthy - the sewage works would be nearer the mark. It was a sour smell like a blocked drain."

"Oh, it sounds as if they've nothing to go on, then."

"Right, Susie." mum grinned, "but I would have. Guess who sprang to mind when I read about it in the paper, Jeffrey?"

"Ernie."

"Got it in one! I had to laugh - it's just the kind of crazy thing I can imagine him being involved in. Thank goodness he's safely locked away. Do you remember the dynamite fiasco?"

"Vaguely."

"Ernie's irresponsible, but you can't help liking him. 'If you haven't got it, get it, and when you've got it spend it' - that's his philosophy. It's a pity it landed him in prison."

"I hope you're taking notes, Susie."

"Yes, Jeffrey, it sounds as if he's a Keynesian. I would never have guessed he had much interest in economics."

"You don't know Ernie, do you, Susie?"

"Not exactly, Mrs Smith, Jeffrey gave me a vivid description."

"How vivid, Jeffrey?"

"Not very."

"You're being suspiciously quiet, Jeffrey - why would you be discussing Ernie with Susie?"

"If you must know, he passed us in his van when we were out roaming yesterday."

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"Well, with all that's been going on, it slipped my mind."

"No, it didn't - nothing ever slips your mind."

"I'm sorry; I thought you might be upset if you knew he'd caught a glimpse of me as Denise, that's all."

"What else don't I know?"

"He's settled down and married with a baby."

"So, you've had a chat."

"It was raining and he pulled over in his white van. He's a self-employed business man now."

"He always was, Jeffrey. You weren't thumbing a lift, were you?"

"No, he stopped and waved us over. I didn't know it was Ernie."

"So, you went up to a strange van, dressed as Denise."

"I was with Susie; I hung behind her. That's how he caught me unawares."

"And what did Ernie make of you?"

"He didn't seem surprised. He hardly mentioned it, in fact. He spent most of the time talking about himself. You know what he's like."

"Has he set himself up in the scrap metal business, Jeffrey?"

"I don't think so. I got the idea he was freelancing, a bit of this and a bit of that - nothing special. He seemed to have high hopes, though."

"It'd better not include a return to window cleaning; the temptation will be too much for him."

"That's enough, Jeffrey, you won't be laughing if your finger prints are found all over his van when they catch him."

"I never touched it, mother."

"It's not funny, Jeffrey, you're letting that blonde wig go to your head again."

"You're jumping to conclusions about Ernie, mum. He's a changed man; his name's Crockett, now - not Longbottom. He's going straight."

"To hell, Jeffrey."

"It'll say 'Ars longa, vita brevis' on his gravestone," I smiled.

"Language, Jeffrey."

"It's Latin, mum, for Susie's benefit. She likes it when I talk classical." I giggled.

"What has come over you, Jeffrey?"

"It must be a nervous reaction; I can't help myself. I'm so relieved to be back safe with you, mum."

"Well, calm down. Ernie's involved you before - and if the police come round and search your shed, I don't know what they'll make of all the paraphernalia in there."

"I've nothing to hide. It's not like I'm building an atomic reactor at the bottom of the garden."

"Can you do that, Jeffrey?"

"A boy in a America did, Susie, he got the stuff from his local hardware store."

"Never!"

"Google it - and we'll go and have a look around B&Q."

"I'm a safe surfer; I don't go in for that kind of thing - dad wouldn't approve."

"Neither do I, Jeffrey, I hope this is another of your fantasies."

"You've nothing to worry about, mum. They might find a slight trace of radioactivity, but no stolen goods."

"I'm never sure whether you're joking, Jeffrey. You can be inscrutable - and even more so when you're dressed like that."

"But it does bring out the peacock in him and curb his magpie tendencies, Mrs Smith. Denise isn't so drawn to rusty old objects as Jeffrey. She's happy with an occasional foray into a charity shop's bride's department."

"I wish I could believe you, Susie - an interest in girl's clothes is a much healthier pursuit for a young boy than rooting through rubbish."

"It's not rubbish," I protested.

"It's junk, Jeffrey."

"But collectable junk, mum - there's a difference."

"Well, don't collect any off Ernie, or you'll have me to answer to."

"Keep him as Denise until this blows over - she won't dare go in his shed for fear of snagging her tights."

"It's a tempting idea, Susie. I don't know which one of them is the more worry."

"If you insist on me being Denise, mum, I shouldn't have to do more than my fair share of the housework. My feminine side does have its limits."

"If I had a maid's outfit to hand, Jeffrey, you'd be straight into it, and fluffing a big feather duster for the rest of the week."

"I'd be happy to oblige now and again, mum, but not full time. Denise shouldn't be exploited - she's more your career girl."

"Whatever she is, you'll need a more suitable dress; we don't want people thinking you're a mobster's moll."

"Jeffrey's very good at the pretty little miss look."

"I don't suppose you've saved anything that would suit him, Susie?"

"Actually, mum, Susie could bring a whole lot of her clothes round."

"That's not fair, Jeffrey, you can't take over her wardrobe."

"What I mean, mum, is would you mind an unexpected guest if Susie has to give up her room to her uncle and aunt?"

"Could I come and stay, Mrs Smith? I feel I should do my bit to help them, now that they're homeless."

"You think it's a real possibility they'll be moving in with you, Susie?"

"Practically a certainty - Uncle Frank's not one to miss a golden opportunity to impose on mum and dad. And as senior sprog, it's my duty to pitch in, by pitching out."

"It behoves you to move, Susie."

"Exactly, Jeffrey - will it be all right, Mrs Smith?"

"Well, I don't see why not," mum smiled. "When I know Jeffrey's in your care, I feel much happier."

"So do I, mum."

"I'm flattered by your confidence in me," Susie grinned, as we pulled up opposite our house. "What did I tell you, Jeffrey - I've returned you home safe and sound. Come on, let's open the gates for your mum."

"See you later, Susie, good luck with your dad."

"I shouldn't need it, Jeffrey, the trickiest part's been taken care of. With your mum telling us about Uncle Frank's disaster, I won't have to fake surprise when I hear the bad news."

"Just be careful when you're explaining how we've spent the last two days. Remember - don't make up any silly stories."

"As if! I'll say as little as possible and use my own 'James the Red Engine' ploy."

"What's that, Susie?"

"I dance on daddy's shoes - it never fails."

"You're a little moppet, Susie."

"You're not the only one who can get away with murder, Jeffrey."

 

Chapter 73

"Jeffrey, Jeffrey, come quick - we've a dad emergency of the third kind!" Susie burst through the door and caught me in mid-frenzy. "He's worked himself up to condition red."

"Can you turn it down, Mrs Smith?" Susie yelled across to mum.

"Ooooooeeeeee," I whooped, and shimmied in front of her. "Are you dancing?"

"I'd love to boogie with, Denise, but not right now. We need your Jeffrey nous, toot sweet."

"Hiya, Susie, have you come to stay?" Mum gave her a wave, before flopping down onto the settee and switching off the music. "Boy, that was fun. It's a long time since I've shaken my booty."

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs Smith, but I need to borrow Jeffrey five minutes ago."

"Whatever's the matter, Susie?"

"It's dad - he's heading for apoplexy."

"Has your uncle ..."

"No, no, Jeffrey, the bad news hasn't come through yet."

"What is it, then - have you been up to something else you haven't told me about?"

"I've no secrets from you, Jeffrey, our lives have been one single golden thread since the moment we met."

"Oh, it's not dog related, is it?" I asked guardedly.

"It's nothing to do with us. Dad's brought it on himself - he's engaged in a macho man trial of strength."

"Who with?"

"Mikey's bike wheel - and he's losing."

"You're not making sense."

"You'll see when we get there. Something's got to give, and mum's scared it'll be dad's ticker."

"I'd back his pump against a bicycle pump any day."

"He's not using a pump, Jeffrey, I wish the job was as easy as that."

"Don't worry, Susie, there's a chap who can blow up a hot-water bottle with his mouth."

"Is this another of your 'believe-it-or-nots'? Our every little crisis seems to trigger one off."

"It was a demonstration of lung power - he burst the thing at the end. He wore a blindfold to protect his eyes, probably just for show - along with his staggering about and acting dizzy."

Susie grabbed my arm and pulled me after her. "Sorry, but can you save it for later."

"I was only trying to reassure you, but now I think about it, I found it quite frightening. I was scared his cheeks would pop. I wish I hadn't mentioned it."

"So do I. Dad's not pumping up a tire, but he is in danger of exploding. Come on, before it's too late."

"I'd better change first, if he sees me ..."

"There's no time for that." Susie tightened her grip and dragged me into the kitchen.

"I don't want to upset, mum, going out like this."

"It'll be all right, won't it, Mrs Smith, we need Jeffrey's know-how before dad pops his clogs."

"Just see he stays in your garden, Susie. And, Jeffrey, remember what I told you about going up ladders - you're not dressed for playing silly beggars."

"I'll keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, I promise."

"And try not to get mussed up - I want Susie to take a picture of us when you come back."

"You're not going to send it to gran, are you, mum? This may be a makeover too far, like you said."

"It would make a wonderful, mother and daughter Christmas card, Jeffrey. We could send out dozens."

"Aw, mum!"

"Only joking," she grinned, "but it was your idea."

"No, it wasn't."

"Well, it was somebody's - I can't remember whose. You've put me in such a silly, giddy mood. We'll have some more fun later - we can all sing 'Leader of the Pack' together."

"I'll look forward to it," Susie laughed, "but first we have to save dad from himself. See you later, Mrs Smith. Out we go, Jeffrey."

"I think mum may have been serious about the Christmas cards," I sighed, after I closed the backdoor. "She's becoming as dippy as you."

"You may well be right; it must be the effect Denise has on people," Susie smiled. "Just out of interest, what was your mother doing hopping and bopping about like that?"

"She was pogoing, Susie."

"It was a hundred miles an hour stuff."

"American Britpunk, mum called it. She's taught me how to pogo and shown me a few moves."

"And she was wearing a leather skirt to match yours. How did you talk her into that?"

"I didn't. As soon as we got in, she put the CD on, said 'Wait there, I've a great idea', and dashed upstairs to change."

"And then she persuaded you to give her an advance peek of your Debbie Harry impersonation."

"Mum thought it was too good an opportunity to miss, and I didn't need much encouragement."

"I could see that - you really threw yourself into the part."

"I had an ulterior motive; I hoped to divert her from any more serious questioning about my journey into Blondiehood."

"You diverted me, Jeffrey, you were very convincing."

"Thank you, Susie, I put my heart and soul into it. You're right - I definitely favour the Lolitaish. I really enjoyed strutting my stuff as Debbie; I think you'll be seeing more of her."

"I've only a couple of criticisms: I think you lacked something in the head shaking and hair swirling department. Were you afraid your wig would come off?"

"No, it's still firmly attached, but I'm wary of anything that might damage the brain. After all my efforts to avoid boxing and rugby, I wouldn't want my new sport to leave me punch drunk."

"I don't think there's much danger of that."

"You can't be too careful - it isn't called head-banging for nothing."

"We'll let that pass, then. But you'll have to work on your pelvic thrusts and microphone handling technique. The whole thing was a trifle insipid - not suggestive enough."

"I thought I'd better show some restraint. It was a Cadbury's flake - and it was mum watching."

"She was doing more than watching, Jeffrey, there were some very interesting personal dynamics involved."

"Mum was only recapturing her lost youth."

"Through Denise."

"Don't start with your psychoanalysing."

"I would, but it's a highly complex subject and we haven't time right now. I wish you'd stop distracting me; I can hear dad's do-or-die grunts from here. Hurry up, or I'll be half-way to orphanhood."

"Calm down, Susie," I pleaded, as she hauled me down the garden. "I've never heard of anyone killing themselves mending a bike, if that's all your dad's doing."

"It is, but wait until you see the effort he's putting in. Dad's gone a darker shade of puce. He sees it as a challenge to his manhood. If you can't help, the only hope is he clicks his trick knee before he turns a whiter shade of pale."

"He'll have to hold out a bit longer because we'll have to go back for the ladder if I'm to get safely over the fence."

"You can vault it."

"I'm not risking ripping my stockings, Susie - they're real silk."

"No, they're not."

"Well, they certainly feel like it; I'm taking good care of them. Tatty tights look so cheap on a girl."

"For someone who was supposed to be a tomboy, you're turning into a precious princess."

"Thank you very much." I started up the path. "Let's get the ladders and not get the ladders."

"You aren't taking this seriously enough, Jeffrey."

"Nothing will happen to your dad, Susie, he's a big strong man."

"Like yours was."

"He'll be okay - he's not dad's type."

"I am really concerned."

"I know and I haven't been wasting my time; I've worked out what's going on. I've dismissed the puncture theory - he's trying to get off a stuck freewheel, isn't he?"

"Right second time! How did you deduce that, Holmes?"

"Elementary, my dear Susan, it's the one thing on a bike that requires a Herculean effort."

"It's funny, then, why I believe you'll be able to sort things out when dad can't."

"Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world."

"I'm glad my confidence in you isn't misplaced."

"Archimedes may have been exaggerating ever so slightly, Susie."

"Those old Greeks knew their stuff, Jeffrey."

"You're right, we can learn a lot from them."

"They didn't invent the bicycle, though. That's where we've got the edge over them."

"We're standing on the shoulders of giants, Susie."

"There's no need to be so modest, Jeffrey, you've always been up to snuff on your own account. You've never disappointed me yet."

"And I'm pretty sure I won't this time. Why's your dad bothering with Mikey's bike, anyway?"

"He's showing off, Jeffrey, it's a father-son thing."

"I meant what's the trouble - it's not an everyday job."

"Someone stuck a brush handle through Mikey's back wheel. He's got broken spokes and a pair of beautiful black eyes."

"That's awful, Susie, he could have been killed landing on his head."

"It was a straight left afterwards that did the damage. He weaved when he should have bobbed. He lacks our nifty footwork."

"Did he come off worst in the fight?"

"Who knows? He wouldn't admit it if he had. I've done the panda jokes; he expects that from me, but don't you tease him, or he'll be upset."

"I understand - I only wish I didn't."

"He's got a schoolboy crush on his big sister's best friend - a perfectly normal turn of events, Jeffrey."

"If you say so, Susie, but while I'm dressed like this, I shan't be commenting on any aspect of Mikey's physical appearance. I don't want to give him a breath of encouragement."

"Every move you make, Denise, he'll be watching you."

"It's awkward for me, Susie - I want to be nice to Mikey, but I don't want any misunderstandings."

"You fully concentrate on helping dad; I'll take care of Mikey."

"See that you do - this get-up is bound to fire his imagination."

"And that's not all, I shouldn't wonder."

"Aw, Susie."

"Cheer up, Jeffrey, and look on the bright side."

"What's that?"

"Well, as long as dad doesn't keel over, this is a real bit of luck for me. He's so obsessed with winning his war of the wheels, he's never mentioned my prolonged absence."

"Hasn't he said anything?"

"Not a dicky-bird - in fact, dad's hardly noticed me at all. If I wasn't such a well-balanced personality and so understanding of his weaknesses, I'd be really miffed."

"It's a great quality of yours, putting other people first."

"I know - and what's more, as soon as he's finished, it'll be boxing lessons for the favourite son. I'll be relegated to second place once again."

"I hope you won't take it out on Mikey."

"No way - I'll buy the little beggar a thank you present. A Kinder egg with a gift inside - I only hope he doesn't choke on it. An Anglo-German pun there," Susie smirked: "doppel Punkte for that. Now, come on, no more dilly-dallying."

I followed Susie back into the kitchen. "It's only me, mum I need the little ladders," I called through into the living-room.

"What did I tell you, Jeffrey? Wait there."

"I'm only going up three steps," I protested. "Get them, Susie, before I'm grounded."

"Jeffrey!"

"I'll be extra careful, mum."

"See that you are - and ask Susie if she's got a leather skirt she can bring over."

"Will do." I shut the door and joined Susie. "Hurry up, before mum has second thoughts."

"I have been hurrying up. It'll be down to your vanity if dad's collapsed on the floor by the time we get there. He's out of his depth with tools and things."

"Isn't he mechanically minded, Susie?"

"Dad isn't any kind of a do-it-yourselfer."

"He's totally inept, is he?"

"I wouldn't go that far - he's just not very ept."

"Still, he's got the build for this job; I can't see him standing aside for me."

"He's not in your class, skillwise, Jeffrey. He always resorts to the strong-arm stuff - bash, bash, bash - but it isn't working this time."

"To a man with a big hammer, every problem looks like a nail."

"Exactly, I bet you've got the knack, though, haven't you?"

"Leave it to me - I'm not unfamiliar with the problem."

"I knew you were the one we wanted to avert a catastrophe. Sort this out, and mum will do anything for you. She daren't look; she's run away and hidden in the kitchen."

"Just one thing, Susie, your dad is expecting Denise, isn't he?"

"Don't ask daft questions, Jeffrey - what do you think?"

"I just can't help feeling your dad may not take my advice too seriously, when I turn up as a high-heeled blonde. Though, I suppose the leather look may help."

"You'll speak as Denise, but with Jeffrey's authority."

"I always do."

"No, you don't."

"Well, I'm not aware of it," I pouted. "I wish you hadn't said anything - you'll give me a complex."

"Stand up to dad and behave like you did when you paralysed his arm."

"I don't want to remind him of that. I'm appearing as Denise now, but I should have changed. I'm sure your dad would be more receptive to advice from a trousered brunette."

"You'd need more than a pair of trousers; we're going to have a real struggle on our hands. Dad wouldn't willingly give way to Supergirl."

"My favourite comic book character - of course, that was before I met you."

"See, you've always liked the idea of having a secret identity."

"And being cute and able to fly. And the costume has its attractions."

"You've got the wig. Save dad's life, and mum will get you the rest of the outfit."

"I want the one with the puffy sleeves and the micro skirt."

"She'll run it up for you herself."

"And the thigh boots."

Craaaaasssshhhhhhhhhh!

"Yes, anything - come on."

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhh!"

"That was blood-curdling scream, Susie."

"Fly over the fence, Jeffrey, and let's hope we're not too late."

 

Chapter 74

"Maybe we should wait until your dad's stopped cursing before we go in, Susie; we don't want to cause him any undue embarrassment."

"You can take your fingers out of your ears, Jeffrey, he's winding down." Susie opened the door and beckoned me forward. "After you, Denise, don't be scared; his bark's worse than his bite - off the rugby field. Mind the step."

I cautiously entered the garage to see Mikey, at the far end, earnestly examining the wheel ...

"You haven't budged it an inch, dad."

"Bugger, bugger and double bugger the damn thing!"

... and Mr Jones bent over with his hands between his knees.

"I hope your dad's only skinned his knuckles, Susie."

"Aaaaargh, bugger!"

"Be quiet and suffer in silence, dad, if mum hears you, she'll be in a state of collapse."

"Oh, you're back, Susie." Mr Jones stopped moaning and sprang to attention. "Where's your mum - is she looking through the window?"

"No, mum's still in the kitchen. She's drawn the blinds and probably decided to do some hoovering until it's all over - one way or another."

"Good, I don't want to give her an excuse to put me on salads." Mr Jones rested on the bench, closed his eyes and silently sucked on his fingers. "Anyway," he mumbled, "it's a proven fact that screaming lowers the blood pressure."

"Come on, Denise." I hung back as Susie went up and peered over her brother's shoulder. "What happened, Mikey - has dad bust it beyond repair?"

"No, the wheel's okay. It jumped out of the vice, but dad hasn't buckled it, or anything."

"That's a shame - it would have been better all round."

"Don't you start, Susie, you're as bad as mum." Mikey moaned. "Go away and leave us men to it."

"Cheer up, I've brought you a present."

"What?" Mikey turned and looked up. "Oh, frabjous day, get Denise!"

"Stop gawking - it's rude."

"She's gorgeous," he gasped.

"No, I'm not," I blushed. "It's this silly outfit."

"It's perfect - who are you?"

"She's the girl next door - behave yourself, Mikey."

"I am. All I said was 'Denise is gorgeous'. If you had the brains to wear something like that, I'd say the same about you."

"Shut up, Mikey."

"It's pants, pants, pants with you, Susie. I've got the best looking sister, and she won't dress like a proper girl."

"What do you know about it?"

"Only that you don't half disappoint my pals. They want to see your legs. You should hear them moan about the lack of a skirt to look up. You're a prime topic of conversation."

"They don't make rude remarks about my bum, do they?"

"Why - is there something wrong with it?"

"No, but it's not nice having callow youths discussing me."

"They're very complimentary; they just want to ogle you a bit. The least you could do is get some decent jeggings. Ask Denise to lend you a pair."

"Have you been spying on me, degging in my jeggings?"

"Course he has. He can't take his eyes off you when you're in the garden."

"Shut up, old Sarky Pants - that's what they call you."

"Just you wait."

"Can't catch me!" Mikey taunted, and rushed over to my side.

"Don't get oil on me - this dress isn't mine and it's real leather."

"Boy, Denise, it's so shiny. They'll never believe this at school. Can you come round on Saturday morning and show the gang?"

"Not likely, this is strictly a one-off - I'll never wear this get-up again."

"Please! I can charge a pound each for a photo with you."

"Don't be cheeky, Mikey, nice girls don't do things like that."

"You did - and you kept all the money."

"How was I to know they'd be stupid enough to pay? Anyhow, I was only ten, so there was no lust involved. Your idea would have definite overtones."

"Aw, go on, Denise, Susie's just spouting her nonsense again."

"No, it's very enterprising of you, but Susie has exclusive rights to me."

"She's sixteen, she's beautiful and she's mine. I'm not sharing Denise with you or your pals, Mikey."

"She won't even have to kiss them."

"Susie's knows best this time, Mikey - it wouldn't be wise."

"I can have a picture, though, can't I? The last one worked wonders for my standing."

"I think we'd better make it a 'no', then."

"Aw, please, Denise."

"Let it drop, Mikey - your place is alongside dad." Susie pushed him towards where Mr Jones was nursing his wounds. "You're his right-hand man - go and help."

"Dad won't let me. I've been ordered to keep well clear, but it's not my fault he's doing it wrong. It's tighter than ever if you ask me."

"No, it's not." Mr Jones opened his eyes ... "I definitely felt it give a little ..." and blinked in astonishment. "Who's that, Susie?"

"Mikey ordered a kissogram in anticipation of your success."

"What!"

"No, I didn't."

"You'd better not have. Or you, Susie - is this more of your mischief?"

"It's Denise, dad - have a good look."

Mr Jones studied me intently. "So it is ... that's a relief." He wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead. "For a moment there, I thought I was hallucinating."

"It's a warning, dad, you've pushed yourself to the limit."

"Nonsense, Susie, I've scarcely broken sweat. Denise confused me again, that's all - she never looks the same twice. Is she going to a fancy dress party?"

"No, it's her Tuesday best. She dropped everything at a moment's notice and has kindly come round to give you her expert advice - she's biking mad."

"I'm sorry, Denise, I don't want to appear rude, but that won't be necessary - I have the job well in hand."

"Dad, I'll tell mum you spurned our help."

"I wish you wouldn't interfere in matters you know nothing about, Susie. You can sometimes make things very awkward for me."

"Mum's terrified you'll burst an archery - let Denise do it. She's an expert in all things velocipedal. She'll have that freewheel off in no time."

"I don't think so, Susie - this is real man's work."

"You're right, Mr Jones, take it into a bike shop, and let them remove it for you."

"I wouldn't give that smart-alec behind the counter the satisfaction," Mr Jones exploded.

"Calm down, dad."

"Calm down! The crafty bugger sold me the spokes and then said I'd need a special tool to get the freewheel off. Ten pounds for a nut - bloody highway robbery!"

"You should have haggled."

"I should have strangled the bugger. When I'd bought the lot, he told me it wasn't a job for an amateur and I'd be wasting my time trying."

"Don't lose your temper, dad, he was only offering you some extra customer service - he just lacked my tact."

"And your spunk - I offered to arm wrestle the cheeky young beggar to show him he wasn't dealing with your average punter, but he was having none of it."

"Oh, dad."

"Never mind, 'Oh, dad' - he had the gall to ask if I wanted to join the Christmas club - 'we have some excellent tricycles for a man of your size'. That was a measured insult."

"Maybe ..."

"There's no 'maybe' about it. He's thrown down the gauntlet - this has become an affair of honour. I'm not going back there until those spokes are firmly in place to shove up his nose."

"Swallow your pride, dad," Susie pleaded. "I've googled 'stuck freewheel' and there's a ton of people can't budge one. Get a professional to do it - that's the number one piece of advice."

"Me and dad watched a big guy on YouTube - he did it easy."

"Shut up, Mikey, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do. Tell her, dad."

"Susie's right, Mikey, things weren't as they seemed. He glossed over the difficulties. It hadn't been ridden in like yours. It was a specially set up demonstration. He admitted as much at the end."

"I still bet he could do this; he had huge rippling muscles."

"The kind that are just for show. He was nothing special in the buttocks department - that's where your real power comes from."

"He had a bigger spanner than you as well."

"Never mind the size of his spanner. I've moved on from that; I'm doing it the scientific way."

"Like the man in the other video - the puny one?"

"He wasn't as pumped up, but I wouldn't call him puny."

"He was punier than you, and he got it off in the end."

"Only after a mighty struggle, and he had better equipment than me. If this vice were any good, we'd be having our tea by now. I'm labouring under a severe handicap."

"Well, Denise is here now to sort it out. You know how she has the subtle skills required to turn strength against itself."

"She won't bloody jujitsu this off." Mr Jones swiped at the wheel in frustration. "Aaargh, bugger!" He shook his hand in pain. "I caught it bang on the same knuckle."

"Serves you right, dad - I've no sympathy, but I'll spare you further suffering. Step forward, Denise."

"Hey, Denise, if you do jujitsu, can we have a tussle afterwards? Susie always cheats and blobs me one."

"Go look in a mirror, Mikey, and you'll see that's what happens in real life, right, dad?"

"Absolutely, Susie." Mr Jones face lit up and he threw a mock punch at Mikey. "You can't beat a good left hook, son - give 'em a winger. We'll have a session with the boxing gloves after tea. You can join us if you want, Denise."

"Dad!"

"I only meant for tea; I know Denise isn't a tomboy like you. Susie has a wicked jab to the solar plexus," he grinned at me. "You need to be on your guard at all times."

"Will you give over, and pay attention to Denise's words of wisdom. She'll tell you what that bike man wouldn't."

"Honestly, Susie, it seems your dad has been following the correct procedure."

"Thank you, my dear."

"Yes, a vice is better than a spanner any day."

"You should know, Denise."

"You can get much more purchase, Susie. I'm surprised your dad, with his strength, hasn't been able to move it."

"The beggar must be frozen on," Mr Jones snorted. "I've a good mind to take it in just to see that snotty nosed little twerp struggle."

"You'll look a fool if he gets it off, dad."

"Be quiet, Mikey, or I'll tell mum you're egging on dad to do something daft."

"You have a point - but so does Mikey. I'll give it one more go and then find another bike shop."

Mr Jones inserted the extractor tool, turned the wheel over and clamped it in the vice.

"You want to make sure you get it really tight, dad."

"Thanks for your concern, Mikey." Mr Jones picked up a hammer and banged away at the handle. "There'll be no escape for it this time."

"Don't do it, dad, what if you crock your knee for Sunday's match. You're irreplaceable - the team's engine room - that's what you're always telling mum."

"Never fear, Susie, I'll brace it against the bench, then I'll wind myself up and apply controlled power, just like I do in the scrum."

Mr Jones gripped the tyre, took a deep breath and dipped to his left as he prepared for a supreme effort.

"Wait, wait, that's the wrong way!" I cried. "You'll be turning it clockwise."

"That's right, Denise, the wheel will be going clockwise, but the nut will be going anti-clockwise, as it should."

"But you're on the opposite side, so there's a double reversal."

"That's where you must have been getting mixed up, dad; you've been tightening it instead of loosening it."

"Aaaaaaahhh." Mr Jones relaxed his grip and stood up. "I suppose that's just possible, Mikey."

"I told you to try it the other way."

"No, you didn't."

"You weren't listening."

"You wouldn't either if you were harassed on all sides by frantic females. I had to tune out the distractions."

"But now you realise it'd be an easy mistake to make, dad."

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Susie. Give it another shot of WD-40, Mikey, while I have a think about this."

Mr Jones contemplated the ceiling in a manner worthy of Trevor, while Mikey sprayed away.

"Ah, our perfume, Susie, I'll always associate it with you. It's my Madeleine cake."

"I hope you haven't been reading Proust, Denise, he's not suitable for a delicate young lady. He'll give you the vapours."

"I listened to it on the radio, Susie. Sickly and precious - he wouldn't have lasted a day with you."

"Not our sort of thing at all, Denise."

"Give me the Clitheroe Kid and daft Alfie Hall any day."

"I hope you're not suggesting ..."

"Perish the thought, Susie."

"I was a fan of that show," Mr Jones beamed, squatting down and studying the situation from below. "We have more in common than I thought, Denise."

"You're both Clitheroephiliacs, then. Is that the correct term or have I slipped an extra 'h' in there, Denise?"

"Did you hear what our Susie said, dad?" Mikey sniggered.

"Yes, 'Clitheroephiliacs', I knew it was popular, but I didn't know there was a special name for us buffs."

"You and Denise are two of a kind, dad."

"It's certainly another plus point in her favour, Susie." Mr Jones turned his attention back to the wheel and gave it an imaginary turn. "Denise is a remarkable girl, but I don't think she's right about this."

"She must be, dad - she's a mathematical whiz - she did all my sums."

"I don't approve of that, Mikey. You were wrong to have taken advantage of her generosity; you know we expect you to knuckle down to your schoolwork."

"What I meant is she explained the method to me - better than our teacher - but I did the real work. You should take notice of her."

"This is a different thing entirely, Mikey. Girls lack spatial awareness - it's left brain stuff."

"No, it's right brain stuff, Mr Jones, you're getting everything back to front."

"Whatever, I've never met a woman who'd make a successful estate agent. That's the practical test. You have to be able to convince people houses are bigger on the inside than they appear on the outside."

"You should be the next Doctor Who, dad. You could play him in a rugby shirt."

"I know, Susie, and I've still got my scarf from university. It's time they had a down-to-earth, macho man in the role. This last lot have been far too airy-fairy and sensitive for my liking."

"Well, trust Denise as your faithful assistant, there's nothing wrong with her spatial awareness. She can draw a four-dimensional hypercube on a piece of paper; I went dizzy just looking at it - it was warp factor 69."

"I can't imagine you sitting still long enough to sharpen a pencil, Susie."

"Honest, dad, that's the kind of thing we get up to when we're alone together. Half an hour with Denise, and I don't know whether I'm coming or going. I'm as bewildered as you are now."

"I'm very far from bewildered; the male brain is capable of multi-tasking. I've worked it all out while I've been talking to you."

Mr Jones grasped the tyre from below and tried to hold fast as he twisted himself to his feet.

"Keep your hands on the wheel, dad - double bend ahead," Susie laughed.

"Bugger, I've lost my bearings." Mr Jones sank down again. "Come here, Mikey, and take over."

"I'm not as strong as you, dad."

"Just move your arms while I get up and see how it looks from above."

"Ruddy hell," Susie snorted, "how can men believe they're the superior sex?"

"Because they figure things out logically, my girl - not by guesswork."

"What's the verdict, then?" Susie smirked, as we all watched Mikey's steering.

"Anti-clockwise."

"Exactly as Denise said."

"There was only a choice of two. I just happened to pick the wrong one and she picked the right one. Out of the way, Mikey, now that I'm sure what I'm doing, I can give it all I've got."

"Please don't, dad."

"What's come over you today, Susie? You sound like your mother. Don't worry, my insurance is up to date and Uncle Frank will bury me for free."

"Oh, let Denise do it - there's no shame in learning from someone else's experience."

"And how many have you done, Denise?"

"Three, my way - that was after I saw the man in the bike shop keel over trying to do it like you. His back's never been the same since."

"Just like Uncle Frank."

"What was that, Susie?"

"Uncle Frank's having some back trouble. It may be a family weakness - you'd better be extra careful."

"I've a weightlifter's stomach; it protects the spine. And I'm in peak condition, I can outpress anyone on the team."

"Then be careful, Mr Jones, because if it doesn't work, you'll taco the wheel."

"That will be second prize, Denise, but still a victory. Now stand well clear." We all shuffled towards the door. "Not you, Mikey, watch and learn."

"I can see just as good from here, dad."

"Okay, now this is how to apply maximum force. You have to use your backside, like all top class second-rows do. A nice wide stance, take a deep breath, and while slowly exhaling ..."

"Oh, I can't look, Denise."

"Aaaaaaaaaaarrgggggggghhhh!"

Mr Jones threw himself into the attack ...

Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccccckkkk!

... and kept going as the wheel flew up in the air ...

Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssshhhh!

... until his nether regions shook hands with the vice.

"Oooooooooooowwwwwwwwww!"

"Tell me the worst, Denise, has dad come a proper cropper?"

"He's okay, Susie," I reassured her. "It's just a minor sporting injury. I expect he's suffered many in his time. He's already rubbing it better."

"Stop that, dad, there are ladies present."

"Sorry, Denise. Oooooohhhhh! Bloody hell!"

Mr Jones doubled up in pain and buried his head in his hands.

"Is dad okay, Susie?"

"Don't worry, Mikey, that's the second wave. It's a good sign; it shows the feeling's coming back. Just be grateful, I've always been too caring to whack you in the privates, whatever the provocation."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrgggggggghhhh!"

"I want to laugh, Susie."

"Go ahead, Mikey, that's perfectly normal. But you stop giggling, Denise, or dad won't take you seriously when you come to show him how it should be done."

"I can't help it, Susie. A big man felled by a well-delivered blow to the crotch has that effect on me. And the more they dance about, the funnier it is."

"I'm having second thoughts about you donning leather, Mistress Denise. There may be untoward side-effects."

"It's okay, Susie, watching a really fast bowler hit a batsman on the box has always been my number one sporting highlight."

"Mum would like dad to give up rugby and play cricket in his twilight years. It's a much more civilised game and a metaphor for life."

"Yes, there's always an unexpected bonk in the balls waiting for you around the corner."

"Are you listening, dad? Out of the mouth of a babe ..."

"I don't want to hear 'I told you so'. I was let down by that useless bloody vice again - constructive suggestions only please."

"Then, you should have asked me before, because what you need is a big lever. Isn't that right, Denise?"

"It's not my preferred method, but it can bring success."

"There you are, dad."

Mr Jones slumped against the bench. "I'll take a breather, Susie, get on with it."

"Right, we always work hand in glove - I'll leave the next step to Denise."

I had a quick look around the garage. "If you want to try it that way, slip that old piece of aerial pole over your spanner."

"A further appliance of science - that was next on my list." Mr Jones's enthusiasm returned and he grabbed the wheel. "I was just giving you girls a chance to show off; I didn't want to appear a male chauvinist. Fetch it here, Mikey, and we'll soon have the job done."

"Is this going to work, Denise?"

"Possibly, Susie."

Her dad got set and crouched over the wheel.

"Ooooooffff! Ooooooffff! Ooooooffff! Bugger! What's wrong with the bloody thing?"

"You've got a bigger spanner than the man on YouTube now, dad, and you still can't do it."

"I told you before, that was trick photography."

"Get Mikey to hold the wheel and then jump on the pole."

"You're a bright girl, Denise, I wondered when you'd think of that. Sixteen stone coming down on it from a great height will settle its hash once and for all. Away we go, Mikey."

"We'd better stand back, Susie, these initial conditions can lead to a chaotic outcome."

Claaaaaaannngggg!

"Ooooowwwwwww!"

Thuuuummmmppp!

"Ooooowwwwwww!"

Mr Jones gazed up at us from the floor.

"You'd have been better off in a pair of work boots, dad. You flip-flopped out of your flip-flops," Susie laughed.

"Oh, my bottom!"

"Been there, done that. If you ask me ..."

"Not now, Susie." Mr Jones struggled to his feet. "Aaarrrghhh! I think I've broken something." He limped across to the bench and nursed his shin. "All that effort for nothing. What did you let go for, Mikey?"

"I didn't - you landed on it skew-whiff."

"You must have flinched, or you weren't holding it upright. Ooohh! I ache all over."

"Your dad's really in the wars today, Susie. My gran slipped off a step and chipped a bone in her ankle."

Mr Jones gingerly put his foot on the ground. "Aaargh, that's what I must have done."

"You'll be all right; it's not as bad as a break - gran only missed a week's bingo."

"And the wheel's okay, dad, you haven't damaged it, but I think you've written off the tool."

Mikey picked it up off the floor and dropped the two halves into his dad's hand.

"What bloody rubbish they sell nowadays," he snorted. "This would never have happened if it had been your genuine Sheffield steel."

"Honour is satisfied, then. You can take it back to the shop and show him his tool wasn't up to it."

"You're right, Susie - I'll have my money back for this. He won't palm me off with any more of his shoddy goods." Mr Jones rested against the bench and tested out his ankle. "Ah well, I suppose I'll have to leave it for now." He dropped the broken pieces of the extractor into his pocket. "For the want of a nail, etc ... etc."

"I've got one in the shed, it's never let me down yet. I won't be a minute."

"That's a very generous offer, Denise, but I know when I'm beaten. I think I'll call it a day."

"Oh, dad, I need my bike tomorrow."

"I have to be careful of my ankle, Mikey - and my knee. We have an important game on Sunday - the 'Old Collapsibles' against the 'Dead 'Uns'."

"A ding-dong battle if there ever was one, Denise - how are you fixed for a morning's loyal cheering on?"

"I've pencilled in quilting with gran."

"How's that coming along?"

"We haven't actually started yet; it's the sort of the thing that needs a lot of careful pre-planning."

"That's where I went wrong," Mr Jones groaned. "I rushed in like a fool. Leave your tool in your shed, Denise, until I've googled some more."

"It's all right, dad, this angel doesn't fear to tread where you've been - right, Denise?"

"Yes, I don't expect you to do it, Mr Jones. The man in the shop was right; it's not a job for a beginner. It was irresponsible of him to sell it to you; they should put a health warning on them."

"I can't argue with you there, Denise, but it looked so easy on Youtube."

"The Internet's not to be trusted, believe me, dad. Googling isn't for novices, either. You have to learn how to discriminate fact from fiction."

"You'll soon be putting me to the test, Susie, let's see if you're still as cocky after we've discussed the last 36 hours."

"Susie's behaviour has been the other side of beyond reproach, Mr Jones, I can assure you. It'd be unfair if you took your frustration out on her. Let me fix the wheel for you."

"That's right, Denise, educate dad like you did Max. Show him how having the correct technique is the most important thing."

"Actually, Susie, in this case, I resort to brute force."

"Crikey, Denise, you're full of surprises."

"I'll eat my jockstrap if she can get this off."

"Dad!"

"Sorry, Susie, I forgot myself. What's it to be, Denise - the vice or the spanner?"

"Neither, Mr Jones - I'm a disciple of the third way."

"And what might that be?"

"I employ my secret weapons - they're infallible."

"Wait until I come back." Mikey raced past us. "I'm getting my camera; I don't want to miss this."

"Take one of yourself while you're at it. My little brother's sore eyes are a sight I want to remember."

"Wobble off, big bum."

"Did you hear that, Denise, is there something wrong with these pants?"

"It's your own fault for mentioning it, Susie. You put the idea in his head. A top psychologist like you should know not to display her insecurities."

Mr Jones laughed and slapped himself on the backside. "You're doomed, Susie, doomed - your bottom's in my genes. It's destined to expand to giant proportions."

"Oh shut up, dad."

"Never mind, Susie, you can put it to good use." I turned and headed for the door. "You're ideally built to carry my special equipment. Come on, put your truck in gear."

"Lead on, Denise." Susie swatted herself on the behind and followed me out. "I'm the butt of everyone's jokes, but I'm still smiling through."

 

Chapter 75

"I can't help thinking this is an extreme solution to the problem, Jeffrey."

"That's a precision instrument in my hands, Susie."

"It weighs a ton."

"It's an apprentice's job to carry the tools. Mind you don't drop it on your foot - up you go."

"Jeffrey, hold the ladder steady."

I waited until Susie was safely on her side of the fence and then vaulted over.

"How about that! It was worthy of a gymnast - a perfect 10. Did you see how I kept my legs together and landed on both feet?"

"I still caught a tantalising glimpse of your stocking-tops."

"I like to tease you every way I can, Susie."

"Is that why you made all the fuss before?"

"No, then I was mild-mannered mathematician Denise Smith, now I'm Bicycle Repair Girl - endowed with amazing powers to teeter in ever higher heels and mince in ever tighter skirts."

"And I'll find her some - I'll have you bunny-hopping up the stairs."

"Keep your mind on the job, Inner Tube Lad, and follow me, we may still be in time to rescue Estate Agent Man from the Wheel of Death."

"You're barking mad, Jeffrey."

"Woof, woof!"

"Smile, Denise."

Mikey was lying in wait for us as we stepped into the garage.

"Go on, pose for our poor, black-eyed hero."

"Shut up, Susie, you're only jealous because you weren't born a blonde."

"I'm blonder than you are."

"You cheat."

"I'm totally au naturel - tell him, Denise."

"You've appeared that way to me, Susie."

"Thank you, Denise, here give Mikey a real treat." Susie handed over my magic weapons. "I know he has a hankering for dominant women."

I hefted them aloft and assumed my best superhero stance. "How's this, Mikey?"

"Smashing!"

Click.

"Let's have another, Denise."

"Okay."

Click.

"One more."

Click.

"Could you lick your lips?"

"No, that's your lot. I'm only doing serious working girl pictures - no cheesecake."

"That's what you think - these are fantastic!" Mikey whooped. "Denise shouldering a sledge hammer and wielding a monkey wrench; this is better than Miss September on Rollinson's Pirelli calendar."

"Hey, Mikey, what do you know about those?"

"Not a lot, dad, Rolly passed it around at school. I can't understand why everyone got so excited; all the pictures were out of focus. With that and the greasy thumb prints, you could hardly see a thing."

"Even so, Mikey, I'd rather you limited yourself to fully clothed girls for now. There's plenty of time for the other stuff later."

"You can put your mind at rest about Mikey's fantasy women, dad. We watched Mary Poppins together the other night - he's still devoted to her."

"I am not."

"Don't you believe it. He'll be begging to film Denise with her magic umbrella next."

"Quite, Susie - now, I'd rather we dropped the whole subject. We don't want to embarrass anyone."

"Thank you, Mr Jones, but it's my fault for being a bit of an exhibitionist. I become a different person when I feel the weight of a sledge hammer in my hands."

"I'm puzzled, Denise - I can see how the monkey wrench will be useful, but I may as well buy a new wheel if you're going to bash it with that monster."

"My thoughts exactly - be careful, Denise, we don't want to upset dad by undoing all his good work."

"The principle of the thing is, Susie, you'd never get anywhere pushing a nail in with a hammer - you have to give it a good bang on the head."

"I suppose so, but you'll be giving it a hell of a wallop with that - it seems a bit drastic."

"You'll see." I passed my freewheel tool and spanner to Mr Jones. "Would you do the honours? I'm still mastering my new claws. Dolly Parton can play the guitar with bigger ones than these, but I haven't reached that standard yet."

Susie's dad pushed the splined end of the nut fully in. "That's a much tighter fit than mine was. Now, let's get you in place." He opened the jaws of the monkey wrench and locked it in on. "This is a rusty old thing, but it has a 'Made in England' feel to it."

"I bet Denise got it from a car boot sale."

"Great-great granddad was a blacksmith, Susie, it's a family heirloom. I've got all sorts of things; the giant file for horse's hooves hasn't half come in useful."

"I can cross that off our wedding present list, then."

"Don't mock, Susie - this wrench sits in my hand like it was made for it. Give me the right tools and I'll finish the job. I fancy my chances with this set-up."

"No, dad, leave it to Denise."

"The Victorians were real craftsmen - let's have a look at the maker's name." Mr Jones scratched away at the surface ... "It'll be a proud old English one ... Oh ..."

"What is it dad?"

"I can't make it out."

"You need glasses." Susie ran over and inspected it. "You naughty girl, Denise," she laughed, "harbouring a 'King Dick' in your tool shed."

"A what?"

"A 'King Dick'."

"You're kidding, Susie - the Victorians didn't go in for that kind of smut."

"That's all you know. I'll have to see what else you're hiding in there."

"Susie's making it up, isn't she, Mr Jones?"

"Not this time, Denise," Mr Jones grinned. "But you won't have to sully your hands with it, I can take it from here. I'm sure I must have already loosened the damn thing. All it needs is one final effort." Mr Jones crouched down over the wheel. "Ugh! Uugh! Uuugh!"

"Stop it, dad, you're going red."

"Uuuuuuuuuugh! Ooooooooohhh!"

Mr Jones final mighty attempt sent him tumbling forward ...

"Aaaaaaarrrrrgh!"

... and his chin hit the ground first.

"Sodding hellfire!" Mr Jones grabbed the bench and pulled himself up. "Sorry, girls, I never said that." He wiped away a trickle of blood. "Bugger - I'd like to see that damn whippersnapper in the bike shop have a go at this."

"Get the thing off, Denise, before dad cripples himself."

I walked over and picked up the wheel, with the wrench and tool still in place.

"Here, Susie - get both hands on the tyre - you can have the honour of holding it steady."

Susie squatted down and took a firm grip. I picked up the sledge hammer.

"Er ... just a sec, Denise."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I haven't lost an assistant yet - not that I've ever had one."

"My faith in you is absolute, Denise." Susie swayed back a little and shut her eyes. "Okay, let's show these chauvinists some girl power."

"Get behind me, Mikey - just in case."

"Okay, Denise," he smirked.

I raised the hammer and got myself into position.

"Ready, Susie."

Click ... Click ... Click.

"Stick out your bum a bit more, please, Denise."

"Stop distracting her, Mikey, I'm in the firing line. Get on with it, Denise, and make sure you're on target."

"Don't worry, I'll hit the right monkey. Hold tight."

Claaaaaaaaannnnnnng!

"That's rung the bell."

"Is my head still on? I never felt a thing."

"You weren't supposed to." I stood up and rested on the hammer. "The jobs done - over to you, Mr Jones."

Susie's dad looked doubtfully the wheel. "It seems just the same - are you sure?"

"Yes, I sensed it give. This hammer's like an extension of my arm. Go on, you can do it by hand now."

Mr Jones hoisted the wheel onto the bench and spun the wrench. "Would you believe it? It really does unscrew."

"What did I tell you?"

"I must have loosened it, or you could never have done it so easily."

"You're probably right."

"Don't take advantage of Denise's natural modesty, show your appreciation properly, dad."

"Yes, thanks a lot, Denise - and Mrs Jones thanks you too."

"Happy to oblige, sir."

"Just one thing, you won't mind if I don't mention your part in this when I drop in at the bike shop, will you?"

"Not at all."

"You're a very generous girl, Denise. You'd do well to follow her example, Susie."

"And you, dad - you owe the swear box a tenner."

"I'm sure some of those 'buggers' were 'beggars' - they don't count."

"I've allowed for that. There's a surcharge for letting the family down in front of Denise. Your 'sodding' made her ears twitch; she's not used to that kind of talk at home."

"We say 'sausages'."

"What?"

"Mum and I say 'sausages' instead of swearing, Susie."

"Sausages?" Susie wrinkled her nose. "I'd feel a fool saying 'sausages' all the time."

"It is a funny word," I grinned. "That's a game we play - put in the word 'sausage' for every word beginning with an 's', Sausage."

"Don't call me 'Sausage'."

"I didn't. I'd already sausaged - you sausagey sausage. The last 'sausage' was a sausage, by the way."

"Then you meant 'silly sausage' - so you did call me 'Sausage'."

"Only to illustrate a point - and you've got the idea now."

"I'm not playing; it's a daft game. I could talk gibberish and you'd never know the difference."

"Yes, I would. I'd figure it out from the context, like I always do."

"Okay, Miss Clever Clogs - what's this?"

"Sausage sausages sausage sausages by the sausage sausage. The sausages sausage sausages are sausage sausages for sausage."

"She sells sea shells by the sea shore. The shells she sells are sea shells for sure."

"You can be a sausagey irritating little sausage, Denise."

"You sausaged yourself two pounds there, Sausage."

"Oh, sausage up."

"Sausagely. Oops, my mistake."

"You'll have to pay a forfeit, Miss Sausage," Susie laughed, and took me in her arms.

"Ahem, girls," Mr Jones coughed. "Mikey doesn't know where to look."

"Yes, I do, dad."

We separated and I hung my head. "I'm sorry, Mr Jones, I'm still overemotional at being parted from mum. I was carried away for a moment."

"No need to apologize, Susie's never been one for holding back."

"Now she's finished snogging you, Denise, come to my room, and I'll show you something I bet you haven't seen before?"

"Careful, Mikey," Susie and her dad chorused.

"It's a dog on YouTube that can say 'sausages'."

"Mikey's been squandering our gigabytes again, dad - you warned him."

"It was your bookmark, Sausage."

"Don't you sausage me."

"Sausage, Sausage, Sausage. Big sausager Sausagie."

"Now, see what you've done, Denise - Mikey will sausage me to death. He'll be just like that bloody dog."

"The dog won't know it's saying 'sausages', though."

"Well, it doesn't stop until it gets fed one."

"That's no proof, Susie."

"Feed me a tenner, and I'll never call you Sausage again, Sausage."

"Promise."

"Cross my heart and hope never to kiss Denise."

"It's a deal - you're a witness, dad."

"Take the money and behave yourself, Mikey, I want a peaceful night - I've had a busy day."

"We're looking forward to a quiet evening in as well, dad. We won't disturb you. Ready, Denise?"

"You'll be okay fitting the spokes, will you, Mr Jones?"

"We watched that on YouTube as well - it's easy, isn't it, dad?"

"Yes, Mikey, there's nothing we mere men can't handle from here on."

"Come on, Denise, they don't need us anymore; let's get you measured up for your Sausagegirl costume."

"I'm coming too. We can play sardines with Denise, it's better than sausages any day."

"We'll manage that on our own, thank you very much, Mikey - you help dad mend the broken sausages."

Susie took my arm and we turned to leave.

"Bye for now, Mr Jones."

"One thing before you go, Denise - it was a big hammer, but you seemed to put hardly any effort into the job compared to me."

"It's elementary mechanics, Mr Jones - I applied a large impulsive force and it proved irresistible."

"That's something I already knew, Denise."

"I know, Susie."

 

Chapter 76

"You can take your head out of the oven, mum, the drama's over. Dad's still alive and kicking - he's bloody, but unbowed. Say thank you to Denise, we owe it all to her."

"Don't exaggerate, Susie, you did your part. You were steadfast between the hammer and the anvil."

"You're right - I bloody was - but I'm not one to bang the big drum."

"Susie I heard that." Mrs Jones scolded, as she emerged into the light.

"Sorry, a little of dad's enthusiasm must have rubbed off on me."

"That's not what I call it. There's no reasoning with your father when he takes on a ridiculous challenge." Mrs Jones got to her feet and turned around. "Who's ..."

"It's me, Mrs Jones, Denise."

"It can't be!"

"Don't look so astonished, mum, it's Denise, all right."

"I'm sorry, Denise, is that really you in there - are you going to a party?"

"She's experimenting with her look, to find what suits her best."

"I'm not, Mrs Jones, Susie's joking. She dragged me away before I had time to change."

"Ah, you're in a play or something - have you just come back from rehearsals?"

"No - and I would never go out looking like this. I ... er ... Susie can explain it better than me."

"Denise's mum was a punk; they were having a bit of fun together."

"And you've been going through her wardrobe, trying on her old clothes."

"Oh no, I wouldn't do that. These are mine ... sort of."

"You wanted to get dressed up as a little glamour puss, is that it?"

"Not exactly, the whole thing's pretty much an accident, really. I never intended to ..."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, you look sweet."

"Actually, I feel rather assertive."

"Sweetly assertive, that's you, Denise. Ask dad about her performance when he comes in, mum."

Mrs Jones peered anxiously through the kitchen window. "Where is he, Susie - what's keeping him?"

"He's just tidying up; he won't be long. It's downhill all the way since we did our bit."

"Everything is okay, isn't it?"

"Hunky-dory, dad's a sadder, but a wiser man."

"Honestly, Susie?"

"Well, he's certainly sadder."

"I was hoping he'd be in a very good mood."

"He's swallowed his pride and accepted the final outcome. He's happy he'll be able to return to that bike shop with a success under his belt."

"I'll risk some extra cholesterol with his tea; it always gives him a boost. I'd better make it a sausage and egg barmcake, just to be on the safe side. I'll make a face out of it - that never fails to cheer."

"Don't worry, mum, dad's really quite chuffed, and he came through practically unscathed, except for some minor cuts and bruises."

"How minor?"

"His knee may not be one hundred percent, but that could be a blessing in disguise. With any luck, it'll keep him out of the game this weekend."

"Oh, I hope so, Susie, because when he's heard my news, he's liable to have one of those matches where he runs amok."

"What have you done, mum?"

"Nothing, Susie, I just fear the worst. I've had the strangest phone call from your Uncle Frank."

"Aren't they all?"

"Not like this one."

"Prepare yourself, Denise," Susie whispered, as her mother went over to the sink. "This will be a trial run for later."

"He was verging on the hysterical," Mrs Jones continued. "I couldn't make head or tail of what had happened, but I got the idea he's invited himself and Aunt Rose over to stay indefinitely."

"You'll have to stuff dad full of dripping butties, mum."

"This is serious, Susie, your dad will blow his top."

"I know, mum, but it's not your fault. Uncle Frank has a barefaced cheek. He only put us up for a night and we never had a decent meal the whole time we were there. He fed his dog better than us."

"Oh, if he brings that with him, it'll be another mouth to feed. I'll never be out of the kitchen."

"It's funny how Uncle Frank finds his appetite when he stays with us."

"He says it's the sea air, Susie."

"He hardly lives a stone's throw away himself. It's because it's free. He always turns up at meal-times whenever he visits."

"And your Aunt Rose is the same when she stops babbling long enough."

"They're gannets, the pair of them."

"I wish you wouldn't be so blunt, Susie."

"You'd be better speaking out; they take advantage of you. This is be your big chance - Aunt Rose has had a bone in her throat, she's forbidden to talk."

"Well, that will be some relief for me."

"But not for her - she's like a hen with an egg stuck, and it'll be like a dam bursting when she can gossip again."

"Oh, Susie."

"And Uncle Frank can hardly walk - did he tell you?"

"He may have done. What's the matter with him?"

"He's got a bone in his back. He'll probably be confined to his bed."

"Oh dear, I hope not; he'll expect me to wait on him."

"Should I drop a subtle hint ..."

"No, don't you repeat any of this, Susie. Promise me you'll be on your best behaviour."

"I won't be here, mum. I thought you might be needing my room, so I've arranged to move in with Denise."

"You already knew about this, Susie?"

"I had an inkling."

"How much of an inkling?"

"A very tiny one - and only in a roundabout way from what Mrs Smith said. Isn't that right, Denise?"

"Yes, mum was upset at abandoning me for the night, Mrs Jones, and we only got a garbled story."

"You've added to the mystery, mum. I wonder what's really going on."

"Do you, Susie?"

"Our ignorance exceeds yours, mum."

"Then how come you've arranged to stay at Denise's?"

"We discussed worst case scenarios on the drive home."

"You're not telling me everything, Susie."

"You don't want to hear any Chinese whispers from us. It's better you get it straight from the hearse's mouth." Susie turned to leave. "I think I'll give tea a miss, mum, it'll be one less job for you. This way, Denise."

"Wait ... " Mrs Jones was interrupted by the slamming of the garage door. "Oh, here comes your dad."

"He and Mikey are doing the Haka. I hope you'll remember how we've lifted dad's spirits if he gets upset with me about the Uncle Frank thing."

"Why should he?"

"No reason, but the state he got in over that wheel makes me think he may be on the change. His emotions are all up in the air."

"Well, he'll be coming down to earth with a bump when I tell him what's in store."

"Then you'd better get the sausages sizzling, mum, it's time for us to make ourselves scarce." Susie steered me out of the kitchen. "Come on up to my room, Denise, and you can help me pack."

"What do you want, Mikey?"

"Sanctuary, Susie, sanctuary. Mum gave me that disappear look - she's going to tell dad off. What's he done?"

"Nothing, she's got some bad news for him, that's all. Uncle Frank and Aunt Rose are on their way."

"Get the earplugs out! What's up?"

"I haven't a clue."

"You're in trouble."

"I am not."

"You've just come from there. You've smashed something."

"I was as good as gold. I never left Denise's side. Don't you go putting ideas in dad's head or you'll get her into trouble."

"I know what you're up to, Susie, you want to hide behind Denise's skirts. Well, two can play at that game," he smirked, and bounced on the bed beside me.

"Not so close, Mikey." I decided this wasn't a sitting down dress, as I tried to wriggle my stocking-tops out of sight. "I have to keep myself spick and span for mum."

"It's okay - look." He held out his hands. "I've given them a good wash. I smell nice as well - have a sniff."

Susie pushed in between us. "That's dad's aftershave; you must have used half a bottle."

"I bought it."

"You don't buy presents and then use them yourself."

"You do."

"That's different; it makes mum feel young, sharing with me."

"Have you given your dad his driving gloves, Susie?"

"No, I've decided not to bother; he'll only be disappointed when they don't fit."

"You should have got the box of kippers. You missed a trick there. From what your mum said, the way to your dad's heart is through his stomach."

"Not with kippers, Denise."

"There's a boy at school called Kipper. He's got a ..."

"We don't wish to know that, thank you very much." Susie gave Mikey a nudge in the ribs. "Haven't you a room to go to?"

"I like it here."

"You have to do your homework."

"I'm stuck; I've come for help. Are you any good at history, Denise?"

"I've put such stuff behind me now, Mikey. Mr Salmon was gutted when he lost me to science. I felt really guilty, but I comforted myself with the thought that I'd never have to write another essay."

"I wish I could say that," Susie groaned. "Sociology's a crap subject; I don't believe half the rubbish. My original thinking isn't fully appreciated; I should switch to something where I could make full use of my imagination."

"You'd be better ..."

"... doing an A-level in twaddle," Mikey sniggered.

"Ow, that hurt, Susie!"

"It was only a love tap."

"On a bruise," Mikey moaned. "I'm black and blue all over. I've got one that goes right up my thigh. Do you want to see it, Denise?"

"No, she doesn't. She's busy advising me on my future. Carry on, Denise."

"The great advantage of maths is no essays and you're free of any crackpot opinions, apart from whether the Axiom of Choice is valid."

"What's that?"

"You've asked a very interesting question, Mikey ..."

"Don't tell him, Denise."

"Why not?"

"Because it'll be boring."

"I thought you relished a controversial philosophical argument, Susie."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. What's more you like arguing for arguing's sake."

"No, I blinking don't - that's you. I only argue when I'm right."

"Which is all the time."

"Well, that's not my fault."

"Quit bickering - you're worse than mum and dad."

"That's because we're a happily married couple, Mikey." Susie leant over and gave me a peck on the cheek. "See, we've kissed and made up - happy now?"

"And quit snogging Denise - you're always at it. Let her help me."

"History isn't my kind of thing. I learnt it parrot fashion and churned it all back at the exams. Susie's the one to give you a creative slant; it'll be like having '1066 and All That' on tap."

"These are facts, so you'll be miles better than Susie. She makes it up when she doesn't know the answer - she's rubbish."

"I'm deliberate rubbish. You should think for yourself. Anyway, you don't need facts to understand history. It's war, boom, bust - over and over again. Put that down."

"Susie's trying to get me in trouble, Denise - it's always the same."

"But she's right about doing it for yourself - it's the only way things stick."

"Aw come on, please, Denise - this'll be easy for you."

"I'll tell you if you're wrong," I conceded.

"He doesn't even know enough to be wrong. I blame the Internet and shoot 'em ups."

"Shut it, Susie. Question 1: On which island was Napoleon born?"

"That's easy - Elba."

"Go and sit in the fridge, Susie, you just want me to bugger it up."

"No, it was Elba, honest - wasn't it, Denise?"

"Corsica, Susie."

"Napoleon was never a Greek."

"Not Corfu, Corsica."

"Same difference - you're confusing him with Alexander the Great. Take no notice, Mikey, Denise is getting her facts from Hollywood, and they don't know their Corsica from their Elba."

"I'm putting Corsica."

"And you're right to do so," Susie grinned. "Next question."

"Which book did Adolf Hitler write?"

"War and Peace."

"Stop messing about, Susie."

"I know knowledge, Mikey, I've a mind like blotting paper. Come to think of it - it could have been Peace and War."

"Will you give over!"

"No, I've got one for you," Susie chuckled. "Who said: When, oh, when will peace come?"

"Mrs Peace," I laughed.

"Boom-boom!" Susie punched Mikey on the shoulder. "Geddit, bruv?"

"You're both bloody mad. It was Mein Kampf, so there."

"That's blown your cover. You just wanted an excuse to come in here bothering us. Bugger off, and leave us to prepare for our interrogation."

"I knew it," Mikey crowed, "you're in deep doo-doo. Whatever it is, you won't get away with it - Uncle Frank will see to that."

"Cobblers!"

"No, it's not. You're in real bother, and at the worst possible time," he gloated. "When granddad finds out, you'll have blown any chances you had of getting what I'm getting."

"And what could that possibly be?"

"It's a secret," Mikey teased, "but it's something you've always wanted - and I'll be the first to have one."

"You're welcome to a kiddie car - I won't be jealous."

"You will be when you find out."

"You've had your smirk, now hop it."

"There's a little matter of ten pounds, Sausage. I'd better have it before dad confiscates all your worldly goods."

Susie sneaked a note out of her bag. "Here, I don't mind sharing a little of our good fortune with you."

"How much have you got in there?"

"Never you mind - this is your lot for now."

Mikey pocketed the money and turned to leave. "The sword of Damocles is hanging over you, Susie."

"Give over showing off your expensive education to Denise. Vamoose and put the wood in the hole."

"I can be a help or a hindrance with dad," he grinned, as he made his way out. "Keep that in mind."

"If you behave yourself, I just might treat you again when my chess cheque clears."

"You'd better," he warned, and shut the door behind him.

"Good riddance." Susie snuggled up closer. "You see what a huge drain he is on my resources, Jeffrey."

"And mine - don't forget that money's destined for our joint account, Susie."

"I'm having second thoughts, Jeffrey, your miserly approach has rubbed off on me. I favour keeping our little bundle under the mattress, so I can run my fingers through it whenever I get the urge."

"That could be my dad speaking, although he favoured sovereigns and Krugerrands. Scrap metal can be a very cash-in-hand business."

"Did your dad cook the books, Jeffrey?"

"Only one set, Susie."

"I think dad may fiddle his expenses."

"It's okay as long as you don't get too greedy. We made minor adjustments to the good months."

"You helped?"

"Yes, I liked doing the accounts. It's interesting when it's your own money. I used to do the sums in my head. I was a calculating little beggar - I wanted to impress dad in my own way."

"You must miss your dad; I know I'd be devastated if I never heard dad's voice again. I ..."

"Susie, get down here this minute!"

"Speak of the dadil," she laughed. "I should have learned by now not to tempt fate."

"Aw, this isn't to be taken lightly; it sounds like your dad's ready to explode."

"This minute, do you hear!!"

"Susan, we have a problem."

"Don't panic, Jeffrey, I'm used to being closely cross-examined - follow my lead."

"I invariably do, Susie, but try not to take us on a ramble up Mount Improbable and into cloud-cuckoo-land with your explanations."

"A creative defence may be a necessity, Jeffrey, if the elders are looking for a scapegoat to supply their pound of flesh."

"In that case, Susie, let Denise play Portia and be the mother of invention."

 

Chapter 77

"How could we possibly blow up a house? You must be joking, dad, it's totally ridiculous. You're terrified of bangs, aren't you, Denise."

"I'm still shaking after Sunday, Susie."

"This is between you and me, Susie - don't involve Denise."

"I'm not, dad, she's my leather-clad alibi. We were never out of each other's sight our whole time at Uncle Frank's. Joined at the hip, we were."

"Not physically, Mr Jones," I spluttered.

"There's no need to get in a tizz, Denise."

"But I don't want your dad to get the wrong idea, Susie."

"Dad trusts you, Denise, he knows you've never chopped down a cherry tree in your life."

"Yes, I have, Susie."

"Oh."

"Two, in fact - they fell victim to silver leaf."

"See, dad, Denise cannot tell a lie."

"That's all very well, Susie, but you're the one with questions to answer. Your uncle's come home to a pile of smouldering rubble, and he's got it into his head that, through you, I bear the responsibility."

"He's just looking for an excuse to dump himself on us and have a free holiday. He's devious - you've said so yourself."

"He wouldn't go as far as demolishing his own house."

"He's making the best of a bad job; he wants to plant his size twelves under our table. Have you locked up the sherry and eggnog?"

"Never mind that for now - and don't go repeating private conversations I have with your mother."

"You can say anything in front of me - I'm the soul of discretion."

"Suzeee."

"Yes, dad?"

"How come Uncle Frank thinks you're to blame?"

"I've absolutely no idea." Susie threw up her arms in amazement. "When he gets here, he'll have to admit he hasn't a shred of evidence against me. But it'll be too late then, you'll be stuck with him."

"Let's try another tack. You're acting surprised now, but you didn't seem at all surprised when I told you about Uncle Frank's conflagration."

"That's because I wasn't - not totally. I wouldn't deceive you, dad."

"So, what exactly do you know?"

"Very little, hardly a smidgeon - everything was fine when we left. The house looked good for another thousand years."

"It didn't fall down of its own accord, Susie, where were you when it happened?"

"We spent the whole day in town, in blissful ignorance, until Denise's mum said something about seeing a fire engine at Uncle Frank's."

"And you didn't think that was worthy of mention when you arrived home?"

"I didn't have a chance; you totally ignored me. I was really hurt; you never even asked if I was okay."

"Ah yes, I'm sorry about that."

"And so you should be, George, getting so worked up over a silly bicycle wheel."

"Uncle Frank's the same, mum, he gets het up at the slightest excuse."

"Not in this case, Susie. He's nothing left, but the clothes he's driving here in."

"I thought it was nothing more than a chip pan fire and maybe a little smoke damage. Trevor up to his usual tricks - you know what he's like."

"I'm still no nearer understanding why your uncle has you down as the number one suspect."

"He's mad."

"Susie!"

"Doolally, then."

"That's better - you may not get on with him, but there's no harm in showing a little respect."

"And you, dad - how could you believe I'm an arsonist? I've never shown the slightest interest in playing with fire, have I, Denise?"

"Definitely not."

"You might have had an accident."

"I told you - I never left Denise's side. She's meticulous about health and safety; she's got her own safety goggles and hard hat in her shed. I've seen them both."

"They're only Bob the Builder ones, Susie."

"It shows the way your mind works, Denise. By their toys, ye shall know them."

"Can we get back on course and have some relevant details. It was after four o'clock when the fire engine got there - you still haven't told me exactly where you were."

"We spent the morning shopping and the afternoon saving Trevor's life."

"Has he had another car accident?"

"You mean like his foot? I wish you wouldn't keep jumping to conclusions, dad."

"I'm not. I meant like driving into a lamppost."

"He kept quiet about that. How did it happen?"

"He claimed it was obscured by a pedestrian."

"Well, it goes to show you how in the dark I am. I never knew he'd passed his test until yesterday. Why didn't you tell me he was available for chauffeuring this summer?"

"Because I know what your idea of chauffeuring would be. Do you think I'm completely crazy?"

"Not ..."

"Don't answer that - and keep to the subject."

"We saved him from death by drowning."

"Drowning?"

"Yes, Trevor would have been a goner, but for our selfless courage and the sacrifice of our clothes. Why do you think we're dressed like this? It's not an everyday experience for Denise, being a biker babe - and didn't you notice my new suit?"

"I can't keep track. You've more suits than I have - and they're all more expensive. And Mikey was on about you buying Denise a wedding dress - are you printing your own money, Susie?"

"Everything you see, we got au gratin, dad, from a big cheese in the fashion business. They're freebies, the sort of things models get as perks. We've been offered jobs as ..."

"You're changing the subject again."

"No, I'm not, you asked ..."

"Is it safe to come in?"

Mikey poked his head around the door.

"What is it, Mikey?"

"I just want to say I'm not giving up my room, mum. I've a lot of private stuff in there."

"It's all right, Mikey, your sister has kindly volunteered to make way for your uncle and aunt."

"Why she's doing that, mum, are you paying her? If you are, I might be prepared to reconsider."

"Don't be silly."

"I'll do it for less."

"Susie is going to stay with Denise."

"That's not fair! I'll be stuck here alone with Uncle Frankenstein. You're letting Susie get away with it again."

"Mikey!"

"This is the last you'll see of me; I'm spending the whole time in my room," he howled, and slammed the door behind him.

"Come back, Mikey, we ..."

"Just a minute, dear, this is the first I've heard of Susie decamping."

"It's all been arranged, George. You'll have enough to cope with when Frank and Rose arrive."

"I'll cope better when I have the full facts. Everyone seems to be better informed than I am. Now, Susie, can you be clearer about what happened?"

"I'm doing my best, dad."

"Well, it's not good enough. Let's hear from you, Denise, what have you to say about your exploits?"

"I shouldn't really," I faltered, "you may get upset."

"Not with you, Denise, I want to hear precisely what's been going on from a reliable source. Speak up, I'll know where the blame lies."

"Tell dad, your mum never mentioned Uncle Frank had suffered a total collapse of his house."

"No prompting, Susie."

"The fact is, Mr Jones, mum wouldn't have noticed if a flying saucer had crashed into it. She had more pressing problems on her mind."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true, Mr Jones, because mum was distraught at having abandoned me in a strange town to total strangers. Completely distraught," I gulped.

"That's right, dad, I'd no chance to ask about Uncle Frank's house. I had my hands full wiping away their tears. They cried buckets."

"We were both traumatised, Mr Jones. I don't know who could have been so unfeeling as to put such an idea into her head."

"Your mum was happy enough at the time, Denise."

"Well, she bitterly regretted afterwards. We both had a sleepless night."

"I thought she seemed relieved at my suggestion; it saved her a drive in the dark."

"If I'm perfectly honest, Mr Jones, I think you had an undue influence on mum. She's a woman alone and vulnerable. She's easily led."

"I really am sorry, Denise, I thought it was for the best."

"It's the first time I've been separated from mum in my whole life."

I blinked and wiped at my eye.

"Don't cry, lovey." Mrs Jones leant across and squeezed my hand.

"I don't know what I would have done without Susie," I wept, "she's a girl in a million."

"Well, at least we agree on something," Mr Jones sighed.

"Mum hasn't got over losing dad, and neither have I. If only he could see his little munchkin, all grown up." I took a deep breath before letting out a convulsive sob. "He's gone for ever."

Susie hugged me to her. "Let it all out, Denise."

"You don't know how lucky you are to have your dad, Susie," I wailed into her breast. "He's the best man in the world." I peeked out and blinked through moist eyes at Mr Jones. "Even if he is cross with you for no reason."

"He is just a man, Denise, and I make allowances for him. I realise he's irreplaceable."

"It breaks my heart when I think of the things we'll never be able to do together again," I wailed. "Oh, Susie, I miss dancing on daddy's shoes!"

"So do I, Denise, but I'm a big girl now - those days are gone, more's the pity. You're not the only one who's lost something for ever."

"God, what have I been thinking of?" Mr Jones choked. He sprang from his chair, rushed round the table and hugged Susie to him. "Oh, my little Princess! That's twice in two days you could have been blown sky-high."

"Maybe then you would believe I'm innocent, dad," Susie snuffled into his shoulder.

"Oh, don't say that, Susie." A tear trickled down her dad's cheek. "Sausage Frank and his sausagey house - it was a rotten old pile, anyway!"

"Wow, Denise, what a missterly performance as witness for the defence. It's a useful trick, being able to turn on the waterworks like that."

"It came from the heart, Susie. I thought you would have understood," I sniffed. "Has my mascara run?"

"No, Stephanie's used top quality stuff. You may have as much trouble getting it off as the lipstick."

"That's okay, as long as I look nice for mum. She'd be upset if she thought I'd been crying."

Susie sat on the bed and put her arm around me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive, but it was sort of convenient."

"I may have exaggerated slightly for dramatic effect. Considering what you've got away with over the years, I knew your dad must be an old softy at heart."

"You certainly stopped him asking any more awkward questions. I'll try to adopt your less adversarial approach in future."

"There's nothing like making someone feel guilty. I'll have to be careful I'm not tempted to use it on mum."

"Or me."

"It wouldn't work with a top psychologist like you, would it, Susie?"

"It just might, Denise, for a moment there, I had a tear in my eye."

"Crying is a lot more effective as a girl," I mused. "Jeffrey's getting too old for it - he'll embarrass folk, but Denise is good for a few more years yet."

"Life, even."

"You're right, Susie, I can't bear to see mum cry, and she's a grownup. She doesn't do it on purpose, though - at least, I don't think so."

Susie bent down and dragged a suitcase from under the bed.

"Your mother will be okay about this, Jeffrey."

"Mum can't refuse me anything, but she tries not to let me know it - and I play along with her."

"I'm not sure that's really good for you, Jeffrey."

"It's a terrible burden I have to carry."

"But it's best to go along with her if she's set in her ways."

"I like your practical approach to problems, Susie."

"Ditto, Jeffrey, now, slip back into full Denise mode, I hear the pitter-patter of clod-hopping, little brotherly feet."

Mikey knocked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I hope you're not decent."

"What is it now, Mikey?"

"The Glums have arrived. Uncle Frank's parked his hearse in our drive. We'll have the neighbours round offering sympathy. You'd better not go telling this new lot your sob stories."

"You took your share of the money."

"We had to give it back."

"That should have learned you to keep quiet about my schemes, otherwise we would have got away with it."

"So, what are you planning now?"

"Nothing, I'm off for a little holiday and instead of me, you'll have Uncle Frank to tell you what to do."

"It's so unfair," Mikey moaned. "You're older than me, and you can still twist mum and dad around your little finger. I should have that privilege."

"Don't look so miserable - I'm leaving you to rule the roost."

"You're my sister - I'll miss you, Bossy Boots. You'll be with Denise, while I'm stuck here with Uncle Big Boots."

"You can semaphore me from your bedroom window."

"If I give you a wave, will you come over on Saturday morning?"

"I don't know about that - Aunt Rose will be talking nineteen to the dozen by then."

"Couldn't you just drop by with Denise, and then I can sort of pretend she's my girlfriend."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mikey."

"Only a trophy girlfriend, Denise; you don't have to do anything soppy. Just let my pals see you sitting sit at my feet, nodding your head, and fetch our cans of pop when I tell you."

"Why do you need Denise? With an offer like that, girls will be fighting among themselves to have you as a boyfriend, Mikey."

"Sooner than you may think, Susie, because my little secret is ..." Mikey paused and beamed at her in triumph. "I'm getting my own credit card next week. Wait until they get a load of that!"

"Don't tell porkies."

"I'm not; it's winging it's way here, as I speak. I told granddad I was the only kid in class, who didn't have one."

"He'd never fall for that; he's not daft."

"He's seen Jack's and Oliver's."

"I don't believe you."

"You're jealous because dad wouldn't even trust you with a cheque book."

"You have to be eighteen that's the only reason."

"I'm thirteen and I've got a credit card - so there!"

"It's impossible. Tell him, Denise."

"It'll be a prepaid one, Susie, you can get them at ten."

"Ten! You mean I could have had one for six years."

"Not you, Susie - you're not responsible enough. Granddad thinks it's important I learn how to manage money."

"What about me?"

"You're only a girl; someone will do that for you."

"You see what a bunch of male shoulderless pigs I have to put up with, Denise. It's a miracle I haven't turned out totally warped."

"They're not the real thing, Susie, you have to put your own money in first before you can spend it. You don't actually get any credit."

"Did you hear that, Mikey? You won't be any better off."

"Yes, I will. Granddad's topping up mine - he's giving me an allowance."

"This is sheer discrimination."

"Hard luck, Susie, we can't all be boys." Mikey leapt off the bed and avoided her swipe. "I'll mention your name in passing, and see if I can arrange for granddad to send a postal order your way. You'd better not spend it all at once, though, like a giddy girl."

"Bugger off!"

"No!" Mikey caught the pillow and stood there grinning. "I like your company."

"Would you credit it, Denise?"

"It doesn't look like you will, Susie."

"This could turn me into a militant feminist if I didn't have such a sweet nature."

"You've some sweeties in here."

"What are you doing, Mikey? Get your hands out of there."

"You've got some nice knickers, Susie, it's a pity no one ever sees them."

"You shouldn't be taking such a keen interest in my packing."

"Why not?"

"Because it's personal."

"Denise doesn't mind showing off her undies. Why don't you wear stockings, Susie?"

"They don't go with trousers."

I stood up and made a slight adjustment. "I wouldn't want you to think these are my normal clothes, Mikey; I lost mine saving Trevor's life."

"I'm glad you did; it helps with the swelling when I look at them."

"Mikey!"

"Around my eyes, Susie - my right one's almost closed. I should get more sympathy. I expect Uncle Frank will show an interest in it - and other things."

"Here." Susie handed over a twenty-pound note. "You're well and truly in my debt now. I expect unswerving devotion if Uncle Frank asks any awkward questions."

"You can count on me," Mikey smiled, "but it'll be rotten here on my own. Can I come round to visit, Denise - your mother likes me."

"I suppose so. But don't hop over the fence and surprise us. Use the front door and ask mum properly."

"What number is your house, Denise?"

"28 - the second perfect number."

"Is it?"

"Yes, Mikey, and yours is 27, the second perfect cube."

"Don't go into boring nerd mode, Denise."

"I'm not. All numbers are interesting, Susie."

"Like 666 - the number of the beast."

"That's a myth, Mikey. It just happened to be a large number which used each Roman numeral once - 'DCLXVI'."

"Are you sure, Denise - isn't there more to it than that?"

"You mean it's the 6 x 6th triangular number, Susie."

"That goes without saying, Denise, we'll obviously have a detailed discussion about this later." Susie pushed down on the last of her clothes and fastened the zip. "But now we're ready for off."

"I'll carry it for you." Mikey dived in and grabbed her bag.

"Okay, but we'd better pay our respects first. I wouldn't want Uncle Frank to think I'm sneaking away, as if I've something to hide."

"Haven't you, Susie?"

"My conscience is clear, Mikey."

"That proves nothing - it always is." Mikey heaved the case off the bed. "Oh, this weighs a ton, I deserve another tip."

"You're only coming as far as the fence. You'll be needed to keep Uncle Frank entertained for the rest of the evening."

"What do you mean?"

"Dad will need a new partner; you'll have to step into my shoes. It's about time you assumed the responsibilities of son and heir."

"Aw, Susie, I'll be rubbish."

"Uncle Frank won't mind as long as he beats dad."

"What at, Susie?"

"Whist, Denise - you're saving me from nights of boredom among other things. When the family gets together, Uncle Frank insists we play whist. I told you he's totally bonkers."

"How did you get roped in?"

"Mum hates cards - I have to partner dad."

"You wouldn't do anything against your will, Susie."

"I had hopes of relieving the old tightwad of some of his money. I wanted to hit him where it hurts - in his pocket. I planned to lure him into a game of pontoon."

"I don't indulge in games of chance, especially when it involves cash. I like certainty."

"But I'm lucky, Denise."

"So, how much did you win?"

"I lost a tenner, and do you know what? He had the nerve to hang on to my hard-earned loot. Dad always says - 'I hope you've learned an important lesson', and gives me it back with interest, like a proper parent should."

"You chose the wrong game, as well as the wrong person."

"He was playing with a marked deck, Denise, that's the only possible explanation. He always wins at whist as well."

"Maybe he and your aunt exchange secret signals by playing footsie under the table."

"No way! You're entering the realms of fantasy again, Denise."

"You could be mumbling what cards you're holding under your breath, and your uncle may have the ears of a cocker spaniel."

"The only person who mumbles in this family is dad."

"There you are then."

"Even if Uncle Frank had the ears of a horseshoe bat, that doesn't explain why I lost at pontoon."

"You've too impulsive a nature to be a success at it. I bet you go bust every time."

"No - I stick and he bloody twists!"

"Well then, it's a pity you aren't interested in my card tricks; I could show you a game where you'd be a sure-fire winner."

Susie took out another of our twenty-pound notes. "We'll pick up the cards on the way, I think it's time you gave unky a demonstration of your prestidigitation."

"You'll be witness to a gambler's ruin and you'll profit by the example."

 

Chapter 78

"Don't look so surprised, Uncle Frank, it's Denise - she's flummoxing you again."

"Hello, sir, it really is me under all this. I hope your back's better."

"Well, I never - it is you, Denise. I didn't recognise you - you're looking remarkably ... er ... grown up."

"Denise is like a lot of intellectual girls, Uncle Frank, deep down, she wants to experience life as a dizzy blonde."

"It's certainly quite a contrast."

"We just popped into to say hello and goodbye. And to let you thank me for giving up my room."

"It is very good of you, Susie, I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"I don't mind doing my duty and putting family first. I'm happy to rough it with Denise for the greater good. I'm only sorry I'll have to deprive you of my company."

"To be perfectly honest, your aunt and I will feel safer with you out of the house. Our nerves are in a very fragile state."

"How is Aunt Rose?"

"Highly agitated - she's in the kitchen, and your mother's plying her with camomile tea. It was good of her to go out for it specially. Your mother's a very caring woman."

"And I take after her - I just hope you'll remember my sacrifice at Christmas. I'm saving up for a car, and every little helps."

"I'd rather not be a party to that, Susie."

"It'd be a fine way to show your appreciation, for my braving the squirrels in Denise's attic, after the bats in your belfry."

"I don't have a belfry. I don't even have a house now," he wailed. "What are you talking about?"

"Susie was mixing her metaphors, or something." I explained. "She only meant that we weren't used to the strange countryside noises last night."

Uncle Frank gave me another long stare. "Are you comfortable dressed like that, Denise? It seems so out of character."

"I'm bearing up under the strain. I fell into this ensemble quite by chance, and somehow it struck a chord with mum. She insisted I keep it on - pretty peculiar, really."

"No, it's perfectly natural, Denise, your mother's fed up with always seeing you in trousers."

"I don't know about that, Susie, mum isn't happy about my coming out like this. I'm under strict orders not to stray too far."

"Whatever, she's pleased you're spending more time in skirts, Denise. Your mum wants to enjoy having a daughter."

"That's most understandable," Uncle Frank nodded. "I'd be tempted to swap Trevor if I could. A female funeral director would be a nice addition to the business; we'll just have to see what the future holds." He looked broodingly across the table. "Your dress is a fetching shade of black, Denise."

"It's not really me. I can't believe I'm standing here in it. It's funny how one little thing leads to another."

"Too true," Uncle Frank sighed. "I thought I'd safely taken care of the minor fault with the boiler, but apparently not. A gas leak is the number one suspect for our catastrophe."

"That's not what you told me, dad, it's been 'j'accuse, Susie', chez Jones."

"I've already apologised for being a trifle hasty, Susie, and I have a clearer picture now. Your uncle has had second thoughts on the matter."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Susie, I rather jumped to conclusions. I've spoken to the fire officer - and to Trevor. It seems everything was in order when he drove you into town."

"Is Trevor okay - did he go to pieces as well?"

"He's strangely elated, as a matter of fact," Uncle Frank reflected. "Not that there's anything unusual about the strange part. Apparently, he spent the afternoon almost drowning."

"That's right - did he fill you in on all the details?"

"All I know for sure is that he was dripping wet. I don't put much credence in the rest of his story. "

"Where is he now - is he on his way?"

"No, he's staying up at Ormeroyd Hall; I suppose that explains the elation. I can't imagine how it came about. Maybe he really did pull his so-called girlfriend's, little brother out of a lake."

"I thought it was you who saved Trevor, Susie."

"He wanted to impress Charlotte, so we modestly remained in the background, dad."

"I wish you hadn't," Uncle Frank snorted. "I've been striving to keep him out of her clutches - and now he's her house guest."

"Trevor's well in there, then - sinning above his station."

"If he is, he'll regret it. No good will come of it, but he won't be told. I didn't get where I am today by marrying people."

"No, you buried people," Susie murmured.

"Shush, Susie."

"And inherited dad's share."

"Ow, that hurt," Susie yelped, as Mr Jones kicked out under the table.

Uncle Frank ignored the kerfuffle and carried on regardless. "Trevor should forget all his fancy ideas, buckle down and follow in my footsteps. Diligence, hard work, loyalty and thrift - that's what's needed to succeed in business."

"And in life, Susie," I put in, before she could add her two penn'orth's worth. "We'd do well to take heed; your uncle knows what he's talking about."

"I agree, Denise, and three out of four isn't bad - especially as you've more than enough thrift for both of us. Your thriftfulness is terrific."

"You shouldn't mock, Susie, a good manager is the first quality I sought in a wife. 'Waste not want not' is your aunt's motto - and mine."

"That reminds me - have you brought Haggis with you?"

"No, that's why we were delayed getting here; I had to drop him off at the vet's. The old boy looked pretty poorly."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he ate something that disagreed with him."

"You're right there. The vet x-rayed him, and there's a peculiar shaped object in his stomach. She'd never seen anything like it before."

"I wonder what that could be, Susie?"

"I've no idea, Denise, but let's hope the parasol is the right way round."

"What was that?"

"I said dope him with paracetamol."

"Are they safe for dogs?"

"What about it, Denise, have we the same metabolism?"

"All I know, Susie, is that granddad took some of Bonzo's Bob Martin's conditioning tablets by mistake, and never suffered any ill-effects. Apart from a strange desire to ..."

"Don't go there, Denise, we're in mixed company."

"... turn round and round in circles before he sat down."

"Very good, Denise - I had complete faith in your taste," Uncle Frank smiled. "You see, you don't have to be lewd to be amusing, Susie. It's a mistake you're often guilty of."

"You've made a mistake, too, choosing Haggis for a name. Dog's pick up on these things; no wonder he's always stuffing himself."

"I have to admit you may have a point there, Susie. I was in two minds about calling him Bentley, after my hearse, but, somehow, it didn't seem appropriate. He's not such a smooth runner - even less so now."

"I wouldn't worry, Mr Jones - everything must pass. My granddad had a dog who kept eating spanners, and they never did it any harm."

"Really, Denise."

"Yes, and funnily enough, he had the same idea of naming it after his car."

"You and your granddad, Denise, don't tell me he drove a Rolls Royce."

"Nothing so luxurious, Susie - it was a two litre Rover."

"Must you, Denise."

"I thought it would divert your uncle."

"Another good try, dear, but I'm not really in the mood. We're hoping nature will take its course, or it will be more expense. It never rains, but it pours."

"Those with the most have the most to lose."

"What do you mean by that, Susie? I've never taken more than my fair share."

"Nothing, I was just crossing saws with you. I thought it might cheer you up."

"Well it didn't."

"Please yourself. You may feel miserable now, but just wait until you get your gas bill."

"Susie!"

"Sorry, dad, I can't seem to say the right thing. I'll let someone else do the talking." Susie pulled out a chair, and sat me down opposite her uncle. "See if you can do any better, Denise."

"Susie's upset because I've just taken twenty pounds off her. Here, have it back, I took advantage of your gullibility."

"No, you won it fair and square. The cards were against me."

"I'm shocked a sensible little thing like you goes in for gambling, Denise."

"I always win, sir; I'm unbeatable. I seem to know in advance how the cards will fall. It's really spooky; I think I become possessed. I feel there's another person in here with me."

"I sense a presence hovering above you, Denise. I'm receptive to that kind of thing. There's a black cloud hanging over your head, Uncle Frank."

"I'm well aware of that."

"But did you know there was a poltergeist in your house? We had some strange bumps in the night. It may have been the cause of all your troubles."

"You're making mischief again, Susie."

"I'm not dad. It was that - or someone piping the plumbing. Any which way, if the insurance bods find out Uncle Frank knew he had a duff gas boiler, he might be glad of our evidence."

"Don't be silly."

"Remember the trouble you had with the greenhouse, unk, they're always looking for wriggle room. I just hope you've read the small print."

"Would a poltergeist be regarded as an act of God, Susie?"

"That's a tricky legal point, Denise. You'll have to get Trevor in on this, Uncle Frank."

"Enough, Susie," her dad cautioned. "This isn't a matter for levity. Frank's devastated at what's happened and so am I."

"You've helped by making your house, our house, George."

Susie grinned at her dad. "I'll play my part too." She placed her cards on the table. "Do you want a game Uncle Frank? It'll take your mind off your seat of troubles and help you relax."

"What are you up to, Susie?"

"Nothing, dad."

"I don't think Aunt Rose and I could fully concentrate at the moment. We'll just be able to manage one of your mother's wonderful meals, and then I think we'll retire early and listen to some Mahler."

"He's a bit of a misery guts; I wouldn't advise it in your state of mind."

"It'd do you a power of good to listen to something calming instead of your modern rubbish. Caterwauling, that's what it is."

"Like a flock of seagulls passing pine cones."

"Exactly, Denise, I only wish there were more girls like you. Trevor might have fallen over one. I expect you appreciate classical music."

"I'm partial to the Ukelele Orchestra. I've my own little banjolele."

"Denise has let me have go on it; I'm pretty good for a beginner."

"That would be most appropriate for you, Susie, but Denise is deserving of a far more serious instrument."

"I've always fancied giving the bassoon a go."

"I imagine you as a dedicated little pianist; you've such expressive hands."

"It's funny you should say that, because I was about to show you my card trick. You'll be amazed."

"Oh, so you're not claiming supernatural powers, then. It's only a trick, is it?"

"No, but I don't think I'll be able to convince an unbeliever like you otherwise. You'll find some rational explanation or put it down to luck."

"Or sleight of hand."

"You can decide for yourself." I dealt out ten cards on the table. "It's a game for two - I'll explain the rules."

"Ah, I'll be at a disadvantage, never having played before."

"It's not really a card game - it's more a test of judgement. Someone as experienced in life's ups and downs as you will have no trouble."

"Go on, then, I'll succumb to your flattery."

I fanned out the cards. "Five red and five black - only the colour matters. You put in half your capital each time. If red comes up, you double your stake, if black, you lose it. The game ends when we've worked our way through the ten cards."

"The odds are even, then."

"You may think so, but the peculiar thing is I always win."

"So where's the catch?"

"There isn't one."

"I like a game where I can make skill tell - not random chance."

I smiled, picked up the cards and began shuffling them.

"I'll tell you what - because I feel extra lucky and you're new to the game, we'll play with six red and only four black. That will weigh the odds in your favour."

"Hang on, Denise," Susie protested, as I swapped a black for a red. "There's no need to be so generous. Uncle Frank is no mug at cards."

"I'll treasure that compliment, Susie," he smirked. "Like you, Denise is being carried away by her own cleverness. She needs to be careful I don't teach her a lesson. Pride goeth before a fall, young lady."

"I'm willing to risk it - are you, Mr Jones? Your education will be worth every penny when you lose."

"It would be against my principles to take more than a token amount from you. How much will we be playing for?"

"1024 somethings."

"1024?"

"Just to make the arithmetic easy for Mikey. We'll have him keep score, and we don't want to burden him with fractions."

"Even if it's pennies, it will still be over ten pounds. I don't feel it's proper to encourage a young girl to gamble."

"We can make it points," Susie suggested. "I just want to see you beaten at your own game, Uncle Frank."

"That's no good, Susie, I can't fully concentrate unless there's real money at stake."

"Then, I'll back you, Denise. Uncle Frank won't mind if we keep it in the family."

"Ah, I smell a rat. You're in this together." Uncle Frank smiled across at his brother. "What have they been cooking up, George?"

Susie's dad shook his head. "I've no idea of the plotting that goes on between them. I've decided it's best not to know too much about their affairs."

"You needn't worry, dad, we have a divine relationship. It's all on a higher plane with us, isn't it, Denise?"

"Funny you should say that, Susie, because I can feel something coming on now." I closed my eyes and turned my head up to the ceiling. "Ooooooeeeerrr."

"Ooohh, what's the matter, Denise?"

"I've just had one of my out of body experiences. I felt your hand brush my knee, and the veil lifted for a moment."

"I knew it - you're becoming super sensitive. What was revealed to you?"

"The whole game was set out before me. Not only do I win, but I know exactly how much your Uncle will lose. What's more, Susie, you win a twenty pound side bet, on my prediction."

"Don't go mad, Denise, I haven't money to throw away."

"There's no mistake - the numbers were dancing before my eyes and ringing in my ears."

"It could have been a long departed bingo caller trying to communicate a last quickie."

"Have confidence in my psychic powers, Susie, I've seen the future, and it's nothing new to me."

"Nonsense!" Uncle Frank spluttered. "You're taking it beyond a joke, my girl. First, Susie with her poltergeists, and now this. No good can come of meddling with dark forces you don't understand, even in jest."

"Denise has been an Anythingian since birth - it's second nature to her."

"You always go too far with your silliness, Susie, and now you're dragging Denise down with you. I know when someone's trying to make a fool of me."

"We can put it to the test. I'll only play for points, and you have the twenty pounds bet with Susie. Let's see if things turn out as I forecast."

"I'm tempted to play along and teach you both a lesson, but I'm reluctant to take money off family members - it's not right."

"You didn't mind before."

"Ah, so that's your game, Susie, you're out for revenge, and you've put naive little Denise up to this. When will you learn to take defeat with dignity?" Uncle Frank glowered.

"Never!"

"Manners, Susie."

"Sorry, dad."

"Put the cards away, Denise, I think this has gone far enough; we don't want any more upset."

"No, it's really interesting, Mr Jones. You'll all be fascinated - win or lose, honest."

"You may be a good loser, Denise, but other people aren't so ..."

"Wait ..." I wrote down a number, tore off the sheet and folded it over. "There, that's the exact amount Susie's uncle will have left at the end. Don't you want to see if I'm right?"

"Hey, Denise, what's going on? This is news to me - I thought it was a card game, not a guessing game."

"Susie's putting on such a good act, it seems a pity not to take the bait, George. If I can't see through their little scam, I deserve to lose twenty pounds. I won't complain if Susie doesn't."

"It's up to you, but I wouldn't bet against the girls. I don't think I've ever really won against, Susie," he sighed. "And she's even more formidable now she has an accomplice."

"I'm wise to them." Uncle Frank picked up the paper and tucked it in his top pocket. "That's where it stays. Have I scuppered your plan at the first hurdle, Susie?"

"Very likely - I hope you know what you're doing Denise, because I certainly don't."

"Everything is fine, Susie," I smiled, and cut the cards. "I'm ready."

Uncle Frank reached across the table. "I'll take those as well." He checked there were still six red and four black. "I'll give them another shuffle - do you mind?"

"No, I can play blindfold if you like."

"That won't be necessary. We're using these cards, and I'm dealing. There'll be no sleight of hand on your part." He gave me a kindly look. "You've one last chance to call it off, or has Susie's stubbornness rubbed off on you."

"I think a little of her confidence may have."

"Maybe too much, because that's my money you'll be throwing away, Denise."

"That could be me speaking, Susie," I grinned. "Are you ready, Mikey? Write down 1024, your uncle's starting capital."

"Just a minute, Denise, I don't see a way out of this. I thought you had a trick up your sleeve."

"Oh, ye of little faith, Susie. You believe in me, Mikey, don't you?"

"Course I do, you wrote down 666, didn't you?"

"Wait and see - all will soon be revealed."

"Not quite all, Denise."

"Of course not, Susie, it spoils the illusion when a magician reveals his secrets."

"But you won't have an opportunity for any magic, I'll see to that."

"You're totally in charge, sir, so you'll have no complaints when you lose."

Uncle Frank smiled at me and turned over the first card.

"Red! I'm off to a flying start."

"Oh, Denise, what have you done?" Susie groaned.

"This will be an expensive lesson for you, Susie, and it serves you right. Your uncle isn't the old fool you seem to think he is."

"That was 512 points staked and 512 points won. You now have 1536. Write that down, Mikey."

"Let's have it out in the middle of the table, where I can see it, Mikey. And put down the colour - Susie will need a complete record when she demands a recount."

"There'll be no fuss. You'll accept the result without question, won't you, Susie?"

"Yes, dad."

"Carry on, Frank."

"Red."

"1536 plus 768, that's 2304."

"You're not even going to win, Denise."

"Shush, Susie, let her concentrate."

"Okay, Mikey."

"Black."

"That's more like it."

"2304 minus 1152 - leaving you with 1152."

"Red."

"Oh!"

"1152 plus576 equals 1728."

"Black."

"Halving your capital to 864."

"Yes!"

"Black."

"Down to 432."

"Come on, Denise, you can win."

"It doesn't matter if she does, Susie, these are only points. Yours is the real money at stake." Uncle Frank smiled and patted the paper his pocket. "And as long as I have this, you're destined to lose it, however our little skirmish turns out."

"What are my odds, Denise - they're thousands to one against, aren't they? Sugar, I'd have done better risking twenty pounds on lottery tickets."

"I'll reimburse you."

"No, you won't, Denise."

"Aw, dad."

"It's your own fault, Susie, I warned you."

"No, you ..."

"Red - can we get on, please?"

"432 plus half of it is 648."

"Red."

"You win again. That's 648 plus 324 - 972 for you, Mikey."

"Red."

"Bugger! Sausage - that's another pound down the drain."

"Add on 486, making 1458."

"Oh, Denise."

"The game's not over yet, Susie."

"Black."

"Yes!"

"So near and yet so far - the final card let you down, sir. You lose half, leaving you with a final total of 729."

"Oh, you were wrong, Denise."

"Shush, Mikey! Denise gave Uncle Frank an unfair advantage and still beat him. That's a 295 points loss. How much are we owed - where we playing for pounds or pennies?"

"Neither, I wasn't that gullible," Uncle Frank exclaimed. "I lost the battle, but I won the war. You're the one who's twenty pounds out of pocket, Susie."

"You haven't seen what I predicted yet, Mr Jones."

"You shouldn't let Susie lead you on, Denise. No good will come of it. You were wrong with your 666. I hope this is a salutary lesson for both of you. Girls can be too clever for their own good."

"Have a look at what I wrote down."

"Yes, go on - it's not over until the thin man croaks."

"If you must persist to the bitter end, Susie." Uncle Frank took the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. His jaw dropped and his eyes popped. "It can't be! I had my hand on it the whole time."

"Well, what does it say?"

"729 - but that's impossible!"

"I never doubted you for a moment, Denise."

"Thank you, Susie."

"I don't believe it! How could you have known? Give that here, Mikey, I want to check your arithmetic."

"It's right. I wrote down exactly what Denise said."

"Precisely! That's where she hoped to bamboozle me. It wasn't a card trick at all. It was a number trick. Classical, magical misdirection - and very well done. But I've seen through her little game," he crowed. "Denise has underestimated her opponent this time."

"I can add and subtract - I'm not so dumb," Mikey huffed, as he pushed across the score. "And I know how to divide by two."

"Then, perhaps you were her accomplice. Let's see ... 1536 ... 2304 ... 1152 ..."

"I hope that wasn't how you did it, Denise."

"1728 ... 864 ... 432 ..."

"I'd never falsify a figure, Susie, you should know that."

"648 ... 972 ... 1458 ..."

"I can uncross my fingers, then."

"729 ..."

"And everything else."

"... 729 ...729 ... I still don't believe it."

"Here, Frank," Susie's dad passed over a calculator, "you can double check it with this, but I don't hold out any hope. You've been well and truly mugged, believe me."

"It was nothing so heavy-handed, dad," Susie grinned. "Denise picked Uncle Frank's pocket with his own fingers."

"I've no doubt she did, but he still doesn't."

"1536 ... 2304 ... 1152 ... 1728 ... 864 ... 432 ..."

"Hell, Denise," Susie whispered in my ear, "I think I'm getting turned on by all this figuring - it reminds me of your pillow talk."

"1.618033988749894 ... etc, to you, Susie."

"What's that?"

"Phi."

"Oh, I was hoping for something romantic."

"It's the Divine Proportion - I was thinking of your bottom."

"I love you."

"... 729 again - I give up! What's your secret, Denise?"

"There's no chance of her telling you that, Uncle Frank; she'd be expelled from the magic circle. Now, would you like to pay up?"

He sighed, took out his wallet and passed over a twenty-pound note. "One piece of advice, Susie, don't play pontoon with Denise - you wouldn't have a cat in hell's chance."

Susie smiled and slid it across to Mikey. "We shouldn't profit from your gift, Denise; we don't want to upset the gods of the gaming table."

Mr Jones nodded in approval. "Say thank you, Mikey."

"Thanks, Susie - and Denise. It's a shame the number couldn't have been 666, though."

"You shouldn't have expected that - Denise is beauty not the beast."

"Look at this, Mikey." I wrote down 9 x 9 x 9. "What does that make?"

"81 ... 729."

"Turn it upside down."

"6 x 6 x 6 - look, dad, what did I tell you. Denise has done it again!"

"Denise has been a revelation to me today, Mikey. She's really given us something to think about."

"I told you Denise was magic, dad," Susie grinned, and put her arm around me. "It's only a pity you couldn't have saved your party trick for Halloween. That would have been double spooky, eh, Uncle Frank."

"It seems there's no end to your talents, young lady. I'll have to learn not to judge a book by looking at its cover."

"It's always wise to delve a little deeper; things are never what they seem on the surface, are they, Susie?"

"Did you really see into the future, Jeffrey?"

"What do you think, Susie?" I smiled, as I passed her suitcase over the fence.

"You hypnotised us," she laughed.

"You would all have lost your trousers if I had. Try again."

"Maybe you've an angel looking after you."

"Hardly, Susie, your halo has a tendency to slip."

"Then, I don't know how you did it. Was it a trick?"

"No, but this is." I vaulted over the fence.

"One leap beyond - that's where we've been. There's no other explanation."

"Nah, Susie, it was just the magic of mathematics. It's always 729."

"It can't be."

"Yes, it can."

"But there must be hundreds of different ways of dealing the cards."

"210 to be precise."

"Right - and every one should give a different answer. It stands to sense."

"Just be grateful your uncle thought so."

"Okay, what if you'd started with five red and five black?"

"Then it would have been 243. The general formula popped into my head in an aha moment. Would you like me to prove it for you?"

"Definitely not, Jeffrey."

"Then, you'll never truly appreciate the power of numbers, Susie."

"But I will our other aha moments."

"There might be one coming up, Susie; I've an overwhelming urge to give you my version of 'In the Flesh' while I'm dressed for the part."

"Anything else?"

"Maybe 'X-Offender', after mum's safely away in dreamland. Did you pack your badge and rubber boots with your leather skirt?"

"No, but I suppose I could go back for Mikey's handcuffs."

"Never mind - we'll improvise."

"This is so cosy. I can't believe how well things have turned out, Jeffrey."

"Let's not tempt Providence, and count our boobies before they're hatched, Susie."

"One, two, three, four - all present and correct. We're home free, Jeffrey. The big danger was Trevor blabbing, and he's safely out of the way."

"Not for ever."

"The fuss will all have died down in a few days. Old folk forget."

"I don't altogether share your confidence, Susie."

"You should, Jeffrey. Sometimes I believe I must be writing the script for us. It's a reassuring thought, isn't it?"

"Not exactly - coming from someone who says the first thing that comes into her head."

"Just be grateful I'm not devious and calculating like you. I'm spontaneous. I've got tomorrow all planned out, by the way."

"Goodnight, Susie."

"Before you nod off, Jeffrey, there's one thing you haven't explained - what exactly is the Axiom of Choice?"

"It's necessary to select a set from an infinite number of pairs of socks, but not from an infinite number of pairs of shoes."

"Of course! I'm glad you cleared that up for me; I can sleep easily now."

"My pleasure, Susie."

"To be absolutely honest, Jeffrey, you tell me all this stuff, and I'm none the wiser."

"But you're better informed."

"And I'm really impressed by you."

"I already knew that."

"How?"

"Because you listen attentively whenever I speak, Susie."

"What's more, Jeffrey, I sometimes take notice."

"Ah well, you can't have everything, Susie."

"Yes, you can, Jeffrey."

 

"Go on, Jeffrey."

"I don't like to show off, Susie."

"Yes, you do."

"I suppose I could retain my modesty if I'm seen to be selflessly educating you."

"Not so fast, Jeffrey - I know as much as you, now I've skimmed through the Random Walks and Gambling chapter of Mathematical Circus by Martin Gardner."

"You explain it, then."

"Well, the most important thing is - and Professor Gardner agrees with me here - quote - 'It is hard to believe that, regardless of the order in which the cards are drawn, the gambler will have lost exactly the same amount'. That's exactly what I said, Jeffrey - and right off the top of my head."

"Great minds think alike, Susie."

"It's a gift, Jeffrey."

"Carry on - what else did you learn from him?"

"Nothing! The devious bugger magics up some formula out of thin air for 5 red and 5 black cards - and doesn't show his working. That'd lose him marks, big time - you'd think he'd know better."

"It's left as an exercise for the reader, Susie."

"And then he says the generalisation to an unequal number of cards is too complicated to explore here. The blooming cheek - peddling a book with bits missing. And it's not as if it's something difficult like writing jokes."

"Ah, you've worked out the solution, have you?"

"No, I'm none the wiser - it still seems impossible to me. How do you prove it with all those different combinations to consider?"

"You need an aha moment, Susie, where you realise all roads lead to Rome, and it doesn't matter how you get there."

"Don't talk in riddles, Jeffrey."

"The point is, if you start with n cards - r of which are red - when the deal is completed, the gambler will have had r wins and n - r losses, regardless of how the cards came out."

"Right - and so?"

"Under the conditions of the bet, a red win at any stage is equivalent to multiplying his current capital, whatever it is, by a factor of 3/2, and a black loss is equivalent to multiplying his current capital by a factor of 1/2."

"How does that help?"

"Think about it, Susie - the order of multiplication doesn't matter for the final result. The gambler's original capital will always have been multiplied by a factor of (3/2)^r(1/2)^n-r at the end. The intermediate details along the way are irrelevant."

"And where's the 729 in all this?"

"Simplifying - the factor is 3^r/2ⁿ. So, with n = 10, r = 6, and a starting capital of 1024, out pops 729 as the final total."

"Simples, Jeffrey - I'm surprised Uncle Frank didn't catch on - it was blindingly obvious."

"I'm glad you found the proof enlightening, Susie."

"I did, Jeffrey, and I also find your way of explaining things to me curiously erotic."

"That's a welcome bonus, Susie - knowing you're seduced by the power of my intellect."

"And the way you keep wetting your lips and swaying your hips, Jeffrey."

"I wonder, Susie."

"What, Jeffrey?"

"Is there any chance I can interest you in my Countdown Numbers Game computer program."

"Don't push your luck."

"You could dress me up as Rachel Riley, and we can explore the intricacies of my subroutines together."

"You've certainly got the bottom for her, Denise. Dig out your blonde wig, highest heels, and tightest skirt, and we'll give it a spank."