Bumping Uglies

Chapter Four

The following morning was bright and clear. I stood outside the farmhouse opposite the barn and stretched some of the stiffness out of my muscles. I had spent the night on an old army surplus zed-bed in one of the rooms in the farmhouse, the only facility of which I used was a recently renovated bathroom that I had plumbed in.

Prior to that being done, I had been forced to use a very Heath Robinson arrangement of systems that collected rain water from the roof of an old cowshed, gathered it in a large poly-bag and supposedly heated it using the power of the sun, prior to allowing the invariably still-cold water to be used for showering.

Tyrone Edge, whose farm this was, found such a system bracing; believing that it kept him closer to nature. I, on the other hand, found it excruciatingly painful; believing that it kept me closer to death by pneumonia.

So, given that Ty had been away from the farm for over a year, it had taken very little deliberation for me to have an actual bathroom and boiler installed into the farmhouse at the first available opportunity.

Having stretched some kinks from my back and legs, I set off on my occasionally regular early morning jog around the village. I had a mind to call in some favours from various farmers and people around Pebble Deeping in order to gather a decent breakfast for Sophie, who I judged would appreciate something solid to ward off the after-effects of the damson wine.

As I jogged along the lanes that wound through Pebble Deeping, I mused on the events of the night before.

I was by turns trying to decide whether I should take on Sophie's case, and cursing myself for an idiot for not having taken advantage of her drunken come-on.

The Idiotic English Gentleman! I mumbled aloud at regular intervals.

If I were being honest, I didn't think that any actual good could possibly come from my taking the case.

I had been out of the business for some time and my contacts would most likely have gone cold.

More pressingly, and despite what I had told Sophie the night before, if I took the case she would get hurt. I was pretty sure that I would find Richard balls-deep in some aspiring underage underwear model whom he had persuaded that he could make a star; "The next Kate Moss, baby..."

There was that cynicism again.

These thoughts rattled around my skull like pebbles in a bucket as I ran between each stop on my journey. At each destination I exchanged a brief and cheery conversation with my neighbours as they fetched the supplies I was asking for in trade. I picked up some fantastic thick-sliced cured bacon wrapped in brown paper package the size and shape of a house-brick, a pint of fresh milk with the cream still rising and a small cobbler that was just-baked and crusty. Lastly, I collected a half-dozen large mottled duck eggs that were warm from the nest.

I was panting hard when I returned to the farm and I unloaded the supplies in the courtyard next to the fire pit built against the side of the barn.

I liked to cook outside whenever the weather allowed as it didn't fill the barn with smoke. I set a small fire going to prepare the breakfast, then headed into the farmhouse for a shower while the flames died down to embers for cooking.

*

Thick rashers of bacon were sizzling away on a flat metal skillet I had propped high over the fire, delicious orbs of fat oozing from the rind as it rendered slowly down. I had all of the duck eggs beaten with milk ready for scrambling and the crusty bread cut and ready to go.

There had been no sign of life from the barn. It was approaching ten and I had been up for hours, but Sophie was still seemingly fast-asleep.

I heard an excited bark from the lane and looked around the corner of the barn to see Thatch walking back up the lane towards the road.