hissed.
‘What?’
‘Your eyes are too bright: like socking green fog lamps. He’ll fall off his bike if he sees them. Avert them instantly!’
I shut them tightly, too surprised to do otherwise. A few moments later she gave me a prod and said I could open them. When I did so the light had vanished, but instead there was the clear outline of a bicycle propped against the stable wall. Next to it, fumbling with what was evidently the lock on the door stood the familiar figure of a rather short man: Top-Ho.
‘Well if that doesn’t take the haddock,’ I murmured. ‘How very purrculiar.’
‘I don’t know about purrculiar,’ Eleanor whispered, ‘but it’s certainly curious because this is the fourth or fifth timeI have seen him doing that, and it is always at night and long after the birds have stopped their blathering. When I first noticed it going on, there was someone else with him also on a bicycle, but he doesn’t seem to have come lately: just this one on his own. And it’s always the same: he takes packages out of his saddlebag, disappears inside and then comes out about ten minutes later and rides back up the drive.’ She emitted a muted miaow and fluffed out her cheeks, an action that makes her look like the furriest mop I have ever seen.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘let us see if he follows the usual routine.’
We settled ourselves more comfortably in the grass, and I toyed with a dandelion while at the same time keeping a sharp eye on the stable door. This eventually opened and the Top-Ho person re-emerged.
Yes, just as Eleanor had predicted, both hands were now empty; and mounting the bicycle with its dying lamp, he wobbled off into the night whence he had come.
I thanked Eleanor profusely for her vigilance and for showing me yet another case of bizarre human behaviour. And responding to her quizzical gaze I said that it was something I should have to reflect upon more fully before assessing its meaning, but if she would care to partner me at the next rooftop revels I would then doubtless have an answer.
‘Right-o,’ she mewed, and brandishing that enormous tail, crashed into the undergrowth in pursuit of a passing mouse.
I wandered home in ruminative mood. It was interesting the way that this episode tallied with Bouncer’s tale of Top-Hocycling frantically to the telephone box. The destinations were different, of course, but both journeys had been solitary and both under cover of darkness. My immediate thought was to tell the dog of my adventure. But on second thoughts I think I may bide my time a little – it will only excite him and the barking will be excruciating. I shall wait a while and pick my moment.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Dog’s View
Well, things aren’t half hotting up here and no mistake! I mean it’s not often you come snout to snout with a cut-off human head – especially when you are in the middle of cocking your leg on a lump of rock. There I was at one end and it was at the other. Glaring at me. Cripes, did I yelp! I mean it’s not the sort of thing you expect to see at a time like that, is it? Quite put me off my stride it did; made everything go haywire … As a matter of fact, once I had got over the shock I went a bit haywire myself. After all, it’s pretty exciting to be suddenly faced with a dead head and then to see the rest of it floating in the water. I can tell you I didn’t know which bit to sniff first! Not that I had much of a chance. P.O. didn’t seem at all keen to hang about and kept shoving me towards the car. She was a bit of a spoilsport really. Still it was nice while it lasted.
Mind you after we got home I came over a bit queer. Didn’t feel like myself at all. Odd really. Maurice said it was mislaid sock or some such. Don’t know what he meantby that but he said it enough times so I suppose he knew what he was talking about. Anyhow he was quite matey and stayed the whole night in my basket. Now what do you think of that? I thought it
‘What?’
‘Your eyes are too bright: like socking green fog lamps. He’ll fall off his bike if he sees them. Avert them instantly!’
I shut them tightly, too surprised to do otherwise. A few moments later she gave me a prod and said I could open them. When I did so the light had vanished, but instead there was the clear outline of a bicycle propped against the stable wall. Next to it, fumbling with what was evidently the lock on the door stood the familiar figure of a rather short man: Top-Ho.
‘Well if that doesn’t take the haddock,’ I murmured. ‘How very purrculiar.’
‘I don’t know about purrculiar,’ Eleanor whispered, ‘but it’s certainly curious because this is the fourth or fifth timeI have seen him doing that, and it is always at night and long after the birds have stopped their blathering. When I first noticed it going on, there was someone else with him also on a bicycle, but he doesn’t seem to have come lately: just this one on his own. And it’s always the same: he takes packages out of his saddlebag, disappears inside and then comes out about ten minutes later and rides back up the drive.’ She emitted a muted miaow and fluffed out her cheeks, an action that makes her look like the furriest mop I have ever seen.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘let us see if he follows the usual routine.’
We settled ourselves more comfortably in the grass, and I toyed with a dandelion while at the same time keeping a sharp eye on the stable door. This eventually opened and the Top-Ho person re-emerged.
Yes, just as Eleanor had predicted, both hands were now empty; and mounting the bicycle with its dying lamp, he wobbled off into the night whence he had come.
I thanked Eleanor profusely for her vigilance and for showing me yet another case of bizarre human behaviour. And responding to her quizzical gaze I said that it was something I should have to reflect upon more fully before assessing its meaning, but if she would care to partner me at the next rooftop revels I would then doubtless have an answer.
‘Right-o,’ she mewed, and brandishing that enormous tail, crashed into the undergrowth in pursuit of a passing mouse.
I wandered home in ruminative mood. It was interesting the way that this episode tallied with Bouncer’s tale of Top-Hocycling frantically to the telephone box. The destinations were different, of course, but both journeys had been solitary and both under cover of darkness. My immediate thought was to tell the dog of my adventure. But on second thoughts I think I may bide my time a little – it will only excite him and the barking will be excruciating. I shall wait a while and pick my moment.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Dog’s View
Well, things aren’t half hotting up here and no mistake! I mean it’s not often you come snout to snout with a cut-off human head – especially when you are in the middle of cocking your leg on a lump of rock. There I was at one end and it was at the other. Glaring at me. Cripes, did I yelp! I mean it’s not the sort of thing you expect to see at a time like that, is it? Quite put me off my stride it did; made everything go haywire … As a matter of fact, once I had got over the shock I went a bit haywire myself. After all, it’s pretty exciting to be suddenly faced with a dead head and then to see the rest of it floating in the water. I can tell you I didn’t know which bit to sniff first! Not that I had much of a chance. P.O. didn’t seem at all keen to hang about and kept shoving me towards the car. She was a bit of a spoilsport really. Still it was nice while it lasted.
Mind you after we got home I came over a bit queer. Didn’t feel like myself at all. Odd really. Maurice said it was mislaid sock or some such. Don’t know what he meantby that but he said it enough times so I suppose he knew what he was talking about. Anyhow he was quite matey and stayed the whole night in my basket. Now what do you think of that? I thought it
Similar Books
