by stan graham
“One of the benefits growing up before the days of computers does for you he would say.”
Julia and Pamela seem to be avoiding me lately, I have seen them getting into huddles and whispering together but whenever I go over they shut up and drift away. I wonder what I could possibly have done to upset them, Julia keeps giving me funny looks as if she feels sorry for me. They have never been the same since Pamela failed to contact Arthur for me and I called her a fraud. I just wish she hadn’t taken it so personal. As for that Anne I never see her.
Apparently, it’s only rumour mind you but I have it on good authority from Freda Golightly that Anne goes off on long bus rides all over the place. Freda said that she saw her getting on a bus to Salisbury, which is about a two hour bus ride away. She’s also seen her with carrier bags from Debenhams, well the nearest one of them is in Tadbley which is an hour and a half bus ride. She certainly is putting her bus pass to good use but I couldn’t be doing with long bus rides myself, to long on the bus leaves me queasy.
Anyway Freda caught me the other day and started complaining about the trees. How the block out all the light and leave her flat in shadow. Well I must say she has a point because I have noticed the same thing. Freda wants to get a move but I told her she was wasting her time because nobody will want her flat. I only said it to shut her up.
I had to pop out for a few bits. Met Toby and Dave Tontine on my way out. Mr Tontine waylaid me and grumbled about the weather.
“What can you expect,” I said. “You should have an umbrella.”
“And Toby, should I carry one for him as well?”
“Don’t be such a fool man. Toby only has to shake himself and he will be dry.”
Had a chat with Joan Terrapin the new lady who has moved in downstairs replacing Sue and Nigel. She has a cat, black and white, smelly thing leaves its hairs everywhere. It rubbed up against my legs but I ignored it just giving it a surreptitious kick when she wasn’t looking. Its called Thomas. Still she seems nice enough. I notice that she has a full line of washing out on the line that’s two days on the trot. She must have brought all her dirty washing with her. Although I suppose the cat gets everything dirty with its muddy paws, nasty creatures.
When I awoke this morning it was pouring with rain, this place feels like it has the highest rainfall in the country. There is even moss growing on the roof of the flats opposite so presumably there is also moss on mine. That explains why everything smells musty. The television said that we must expect heavy showers for the next three days. It’s all to do with a weather front coming in from over the Atlantic. Whatever that is supposed to mean. I continually feel damp. The trouble is that it is so warm that you can’t have the heating on to dry things out. I tried it by turning the thermostat up and it was like a Turkish Bath. I had to strip down to my underwear. Oops too much information I suppose you would call it.
Have just heard that Dave Tontines dog Toby has died. That was sudden. There was a little conclave of them gathered by the bins discussing it when I went to put out my black bag. At least he won't have to worry about an umbrella for him. Good riddance I say but Mr Tontine seems to have taken it badly. What could he expect the dog was nearly a hundred in dog years? It must have been that soaking he got the other day, just surprised Mr Tontine didn’t go as well he’s got a hacking cough. It’s bad enough mourning the living without fretting about a dead mutt. Perhaps we will get a bit of peace and quiet now. No more howling at the moon from either of them. I said “I hope he is going to put it in his own dustbin and not try to sneak it into mine.”
Mr Pope said that far from disposing of Toby like that Dave had asked them to help him bury Toby near a rose bush. Lot of rigmarole over nothing I say. They will be having a funeral service next.
Do you know I must be a prophet. I just saw Dave Tontine, Jack Pope, Julia and Pamela walk out the back with a shovel and a black bag. Jack dug a hole and Dave Tontine emptied the contents of the sack into it. Then Jack filled the hole in and they all stood and sang a hymn afterwards Pamela seemed to be saying a few words. It poured with rain the whole time and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them don’t go down with something. I am amazed that Smythe allowed it. Still it’s good fertiliser for the grounds.
All heart my Janice. Still that’s just the way she is. Doesn’t show her emotions and don’t expect anyone else to either. Don’t think she shed a tear when I popped my clogs. In fact I was a bit surprised she didn’t put me in the wheelie bin
***********
Chapter 8. OCTOBER
A new month, the weather has started getting colder I shall have to dig out my cardies and warm underwear. At the moment it’s poring with rain but I hope it will dry up later. I like Mondays because you never know what the new week is going to bring. In this case nothing much. I feel a bit sniffy so I have taken two Echinacea tablets, they build up the immune system. I make myself a hot water bottle and spend the day in bed reading, just getting up to make myself some soup. Apart from the paper-boy I see nobody.
Feeling a bit better today. I felt really bad yesterday but spent the day in bed and now I feel okay. Must have been the change in the weather. Have ordered some new skirts off the catalogue and they were supposed to be delivered this morning. I have wasted a whole day waiting for the postman but there was no sign of him all day. I thought of phoning the post office to check whether they had anything for me that they hadn’t got round to delivering but decided that I will give them until tomorrow.
My parcel arrived today a day late, I told the postman that he should have come yesterday. ”Why what happened? “
“What happened was that you were supposed to deliver my parcel. I have a good mind not to accept it.”
“Well make your mind up love cause I haven’t got all day.”
I decided to keep the parcel. I tried them on and they were just right then I noticed that everything I had ordered was not there so I phoned up to complain. I got passed from pillar to post and left holding on. I gave up in the end, which I suspect was their intention. Shopping by catalogue is so much more convenient than traipsing from shop to shop and not finding anything, but I shall not be doing it again. They included a note saying the rest of the stuff would be delivered tomorrow. Why these people insist in splitting orders and don’t just send the whole order in one parcel I don’t know.
At last the rest of my parcel arrived. The same postman brought them. He was very apologetic so I forgave him. It was all there and everything fitted but I shall not be entertaining them again.
The recycling lorry comes every fortnight and we are expected to save all our papers, bottles and tins in our flats until they turn up. I never bother it all goes out with the rubbish every week. If you put it out to recycle they only nose through it to see if there’s anything they can use. That Dave Tontine puts a black bag filled with beer cans out every time. He ties it up to stop anyone looking inside but I shook it and it was very light and rattled. I know what I know.
There was a piercing shriek it sounds like someone being murdered. I run to my window to see Julia having hysterics in the middle of the compound wailing and ululating like someone heartbroken. Jack Pope and Dave Tontine run out to her. I follow slowly, I don’t want to get involved if I can help it.
Jack Pope slapped her face, he’s probably the only one who could get away with it.
“Stop your wailing woman you’ll waken the dead.”
She burst into tears again at this less than tactful remark.
“Look, look a dead squirrel,” she pointed to a bundle of motionless grey fur.
“It happens missus they got to die sometime just like the rest of us.”
“Can’t you see ‘He’s been murdered’,” she cried.
I went over to look, sure enough there was a small hole in the poor creatures head. A pellet from an air gun or a catapult I guessed. No need to wonder who the murderer was then, he was standing right before me, Dave Tontine. It was Elvis and this was personal. Only
yesterday had he taken peanuts from my hand. Someone had decided that I was enjoying myself too much and decided to put an end to our simple pleasure?
Jack Pope picked him up by his tail and threw him into the hedge.
“Aren’t you going to bury him” I asked?
“Not worth the trouble, they are only vermin after all, besides he would prefer to just lie in the hedge and return to nature.”
“Did you shoot that poor creature ” I demanded of Dave Tontine?
Of course he vigorously denied it and nobody had seen him. He got quite obstreperous threatening me with a lawyer but I knew he was only bluffing.
“I know my rights, you got no business accusing me of that,” he said.
I walked away and left him to get on with it. I could still hear him protesting his innocence to all that would listen. I wonder why Smythe hasn’t put in an appearance. Could he be involved I ask myself?
When it was quiet, it’s never dark in the compound due to the security lights that come on at dusk, I retrieved the corpse for further examination. I eventually found him hidden under a pile of chestnut leaves. We had had a heavy fall this autumn and the leaves were piled up high in banks of gold and brown. The scull was crushed, that is strange I mused it seemed quite unharmed except for the hole in it when I had viewed it earlier. Surely a wild animal wouldn’t have done that although a dog might, Toby no he had been dead a week. I looked for any sign of the pellet but it must have got lost, perhaps I should conduct a search for it but not tonight. I returned the corpse to the hedge, didn’t want to arouse any suspicions. They might see me as a danger and come after me next.
I spoke to Julia this morning but she couldn’t spread any light on the problem of Elvis.
“Elvis! Did he have a name then, I suppose they must call each other something.”
“I am just using the name Elvis for convenience while I conduct my enquiries into his demise.” I wasn’t prepared to call it a murder until I was sure of my facts.
“Well I was going to have a word with Pammy but this has quite put it out of my mind. I just saw him lying there and I must have screamed, because I was startled you understand, not that I was scared. Then everyone seemed to appear at once.”
“Who was first on the scene apart from yourself?”
“I’m not sure, it must have been Dave, or perhaps it was Jack. I don’t know. Why is it important?”
“Criminals often return to the seat of their crime.” I had read that in Sherlock Holmes. Just as the killer is usually either a family member or the first person to find the body. Although I was prepared to rule Julia out in this case given the state of her nerves. Her hands were still trembling I noticed. “Okay we will leave it at that for now but I may need you to answer a few questions later.”
Like Sherlock I have drawn up a list of suspects, Dave Tontine and Captain Smythe as he never showed his face which is very unusual for him if there is anything spoiling the harmony of his, I nearly put prison but perhaps that is a bit too strong, compound. Others at the scene of the crime were Jack Pope, Julia and myself. I can eliminate both Julia and Jack Pope, he seems too nice a man to commit murder, besides he doesn’t have a motive even if he was a bit callous in the disposal of the deceased. Men are like that. Unfeeling brutes but that doesn’t make them all murderers even if most murderers are men. It’s as if they just put their emotions away and only bring them out when it suits them. Arthur could be like that. I of course know that I didn’t do it. While we the fairer sex only commit crimes of passion.
I was never unfeeling, very sensitive I was. And what about Myra Hindley she was a cold hearted bitch if ever there was one. Though I suppose she was under the influence of that Ian Brady.
It’s a cold chilly day and to save on electricity I went over to the community
centre for a coffee morning. I can do this now that I no longer do my washing on a Monday. I was going to suggest that we organise a White Rabbit Circle. The idea being that on the first day of every month we phone a person in the circle and say White Rabbit, they then phone somebody else but it didn’t seem the right time to bring it up as there was much more exciting news to talk about. I had hoped to discuss the question of Elvis and ask Jack Pope if he had ever seen Dave Tontine with an air gun or catapult of any description.
It turns out that Smythe has gone, left, skedazzled, done a runner as Jack Pope said. He just upped stakes and went without a by your leave. One minute he was there and the next nothing like the pain that you suffer for years and them one morning wake up and find has disappeared. Rumours abound mainly started by Jack, the mischief-maker, that he has found a wealthy widow but I can't see anybody in their right mind having anything to do with a worm like him. The whole place is buzzing.
Dave Tontine is at a loss as he's not sure what to do; he’s just lost Toby.
No I never had anything to do with that and now he’s lost Smythe. He wasn't going to open the centre but Jack Pope told him to do so. He informed us that he has got onto the landlord and there will be a meeting tomorrow morning at 10am to decide the future of Paradise Lodge. Jack has become quite dominant lately. We look forward to it with trepidation. I asked how he was so sure that Smythe had not gone away for a holiday. Dave Tontine said that a van had arrived late last night and two men had emptied the flat.
“How do you know that Smythe hasn’t been kidnapped and all his possessions stolen then,” I asked?
“It could be the note that Smythe left pinned to his door saying and I quote ‘Gone for good, Ha, Ha, Ha,’” replied Jack.
“Anybody could have wrote that.”
“I can vouch that it’s in his handwriting, besides when I phoned the landlord he already knew. Apparently the captain had arranged it with him weeks ago.”
“And he knows where he has gone?”
“We will have to wait until he arrives tomorrow when we can ask him.”
All this has diverted attention from the murder of Elvis but I wasn’t done with it I would just observe and wait. At least that eliminates one of the suspects, or does it. Maybe it just allows him to escape from justice.
“Jack, do you know of any animal that could crush a small creatures head?”
“Lions, Tigers, is that what you mean?”
“Do you think there might be a lion or tiger roaming loose, perhaps escaped from a zoo?”
“Not really although Surrey is supposed to have a puma roaming free. You mean like maybe a badger or a fox. Or maybe a dog, if he was fast enough to catch one.”
“Do badgers eat other animals?”
“Eat anything they will. Omnivorous they are. Why?”
“No reason just curious that’s all.”
“Well don’t forget curiosity killed the cat.”
“Has a cat died then?”
“No my pet it’s just a figure of speech.”
I decided to go and report Elvis’s death to the police.
“What do you expect us to do about it” asked the constable?
“Isn’t it illegal to kill squirrels?
“No love, the council actually pay fifty pence a tail, classed as vermin you see. You could report it to the RSPCA, but I doubt if they will care either unless you could prove that it was cruelly treated.”
So much for British Justice, now it’s down to me to secure justice for Elvis.
I hardly slept last night what with the excitement. As you know I never liked Captain Smythe but it's better the devil you know.
“Yes” the landlord told us, he knew where Captain Smythe had gone and if anybody wished to communicate with him they could do so through him and no he was not prepared to divulge his new address.
The meeting lasted for two hours. The landlord asked us whether we felt we really needed a warden, being as most of us have mobile phones and that Captain Smythe never seemed to do a lot. That got a laugh. We voted by a large majority that we did not need a resident warden.
Jack Pope asked "If we are not having a warden would w
e get a reduction in our rents."
The landlord said he would be prepared to make a generous reduction.
Jack asked "how much?" and the landlord proposed a figure of £1 a week.
“Preposterous,” shouted Jack. “Are you suggesting Smythe was only worth £48 a week? It should be at least £5.”
“Yes I agree, Captain Smythe was worth £5, unfortunately I had to pay him much more.”
That brought an outburst of laughter, even Jack grinned. Eventually after a lot of discussion and argument a figure of £2.20p a week was proposed. We voted on that and the number in favour is almost unanimous. As Jack said there are 48 flats, I think the landlord has got a bargain. It has only cost him £103.40 pence excluding Smythe's flat which he had got rent free, to replace Smythe which is a lot less than he must have been paying him and he now has an extra flat to let. Generous my eye, I was going to ask whether he knew about the burial of Toby but Jack must have guessed that was my intention and catching my eye shook his head so I decided that perhaps it wasn’t an appropriate moment. I suggested my idea for a group of us to do a White Rabbit to Julia and Pamela but they just laughed and thought I was joking. Shan’t raise it again.
