"What
the hell are you doing here?"
"ThatÂ’s not much of a welcome, Lizzie. ArenÂ’t you even
going to offer me a cup of tea?"
"Bog off, Kenton!"
"So youÂ’re not interested in DaveÂ’s latest bit of asset-stripping?"
Kenton smiled slyly, ElizabethÂ’s passionate avarice made her so easy
to manipulate.
"What?!"
"Put the kettle on, Sis and IÂ’ll tell you all about it."
Daniel
was not having a good day. PE had been the usual nightmare; he had wobbled
his way around the apparatus in the school hall to a soundtrack of giggles
and sotto voce comments of, "Look at Piles, heÂ’s so fat!"
and "Do you think that rope will hold you, porky?"
The
school "library" (a converted broom cupboard containing a large
number of dog-eared Enid Blytons, a handful of outdated non-fiction books
and a dozen untouched presentation copies of Jennifer AldridgeÂ’s
history of Ambridge) contained nothing about the mysterious inner workings
of cars and it was AlistairÂ’s turn to pick Daniel up from school.
If all that werenÂ’t bad enough, he had made the mistake of asking
Chelsea Horrobin (the toughest girl in year three at Loxley Barrett Primary)
if her older brother would be prepared to teach him about cars. Chelsea
had laughed in his face.
"Why would Jake bother with a stupid, little t*rd like you, Piles?
And anyway, heÂ’s away."
"Away?"
"Yeah, he got six months detention for twocking."
"Twocking?? WhatÂ’s that?"
Daniel couldn’t imagine what ‘twocking’ could be, but it
sounded horrible.
"Taking without consent, you sad, little tw*t."
Daniel looked blank.
"Nicking cars, you muppet!"
Elizabeth,
unaccustomed to performing such menial tasks herself, was searching for
the tea bags.
"That old crone Mrs Pugsley must live on tea! I know Kathy brought
a catering pack of tea bags down from the café last week, but there’s
no sign of them in the cupboard!"
Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Mrs P. (who favoured a good quality, loose leaf
Darjeeling) regularly sold the catering tea bags on to the Ambridge Over
60Â’s and the W.I. As she had said to Titcombe, " When the Pargetters
start paying decent wages, thingsÂ’ll stop going walkies, wonÂ’t
they?"
"Let me look."
Kenton was a natural scavenger and within a minute he had found Mrs PugsleyÂ’s
tea caddy and was examining the contents of the biscuit barrel. Much to
KentonÂ’s disappointment it contained nothing but a few broken digestives,
and the cake tin was entirely empty. Then he noticed the tin that Titcombe
had left at the back of the cupboard.
"Ah, home made chocolate chip cookies. Perfect."
Strapped
into the back of his step-fatherÂ’s car (Alistair never let him ride
in the front) Daniel had nothing to do but glare at the back of AlistairÂ’s
head and repeat to himself, "IÂ’m going to kill you. I hate you!
IÂ’m going to kill you. I hate you!"
"HeÂ’s
selling Woodbine?!"
"Yes, heÂ’s persuaded Bert and Freda to move to the bungalow."
"And he never said a word to me! If David thinks he can get away
without giving us our share of the proceeds, then heÂ’s in for a nasty
shock!", spat Elizabeth, helping herself to another of Jean-PaulÂ’s
chocolate chip cookies.
"ThinkingÂ’s never really been DaveÂ’s strong point though.
Do you remember that time we convinced him that that pig of DadÂ’s
was possessed by demons?"
"And he asked the vicar to exorcise it!"
Elizabeth and Kenton roared with laughter.
"Hey! Leave some of those biscuits for me Lizzie!"
Kenton quickly grabbed two more cookies.
"Of course itÂ’s Ruth we really have to worry about", said
Elizabeth thoughtfully.
"Yes, youÂ’d never think to look at her that Ruth could be so
ruthless."
Elizabeth started to giggle.
"I wish we were ‘Ruth-less’!"
By now Kenton too was giggling and spluttering cookie crumbs all over
the kitchen table.
"Ruthless!"
The repetition of this puerile joke had them both in hysterics. Tears
streamed down ElizabethÂ’s face and Kenton was helpless with mirth.
Alistair
frequently regretted his marriage to Shula, but never more so than when
he was obliged to spend time with his step-son. There was something quite
creepy about the way that Daniel looked at him and he was such a mummyÂ’s
boy, always whining to Shula about something. Still, when Shula wasnÂ’t
around Alistair had his own ways of dealing with Daniel.
He had discovered during one of these tedious school runs, that if he
made Daniel sit in the back of the car and drove along the twisting lanes
at a steady 50 mph he could make the boy thoroughly car sick without actually
causing him to puke. The sight of DanielÂ’s face in the rear view
mirror, growing steadily more ashen, was a source of great satisfaction
to Alistair.
"You greedy pig, Kenton! YouÂ’ve finished all the biscuits!"
"You ate your fair share too. Have you got anything else to eat,
IÂ’m starving!"
"IÂ’d like a nice, big slice of one of MumÂ’s cakes",
said Elizabeth dreamily.
"ThatÂ’s a brilliant idea, Lizzie."
"What is?"
"LetÂ’s go round to Glebe Cottage. MumÂ’s bound to have something
to eat and if we can get her on our side over this business with Woodbine,
Dave and Ruth wonÂ’t stand a chance of cheating us. Imagine how Ruth
would react if Mum threatened to withdraw her baby-sitting services."
"Kenton, youÂ’re a genius!"
If
Alistair hadnÂ’t been enjoying DanielÂ’s discomfort so much, he
might have slowed down on the approach to the cross roads. If Elizabeth
hadnÂ’t been stoned out of her mind and laughing uproariously at KentonÂ’s
supremely tasteless impersonation of Neil and Susan Carter in the bedroom,
she might have seen AlistairÂ’s car before it was too late.
Still,
at least Kenton and Elizabeth died laughing.
The
first thing Daniel saw when he regained consciousness was his motherÂ’s
anxious, tear streaked face.
"Mummy?"
"Oh Daniel darling, thank God! YouÂ’re in hospital darling, there
was an accidentÂ…",
ShulaÂ’s voice trailed off as she struggled to control her emotions.
"Alistair?" Daniel croaked.
"Oh darling.. Alistair.. Alistair didnÂ’t survive the crash."
Shula, distraught, began to sob.
Which explains why she didnÂ’t notice the small, but exultant smile
on DanielÂ’s face.
