Mistake - Episode Two

1

The night in the police cell had been a long one for poor old Barbara. She had needed the toilet since the moment she had been thrown in there, but had refused the on-suite facilities. She’d never even used a public lavatory in her life and although this was a little less then public she didn’t fancy sharing the room with it after the fact.

Apart from that first and on-going predicament, there were plenty other reasons to keep her from catching some beauty sleep. A couple of the other cells had been taken up but thankfully there was white wall instead of bars between each room so she couldn’t see them. She could however, and rather annoyingly, still hear them.

The Cell to Barbara’s left contained a sleeping man. The sound of his rhythmical snoring she deducted was easily loud enough to raise the dead, and no amount of her banging the wall would stir or stop him. This sound was interjected intermittently by a man from some cell off to the right who obviously knew his rights because that was all he kept shouting about. And somewhere between him and Barbara was the sound of quiet mutterings, never loud or clear enough for anyone to know what the man was saying. Barbara assumed he was probably trying to formulate a plan to kill the snorer and the shouter, and she would be only too happy to help.     

And so the night continued onward, but at the pace of a sloth hanging from a tree in the midday sun. Barbara broke up the night by changing from laying or sitting on the bed and slowly pacing up and down the small room. She refused to use anymore of the time to reflect on the past so she used the time to think about the present and more importantly the future.

When she would finally be free of this stupid room, and that stupid man who called himself a detective, she needed to find out where Jacob was hiding out.

But before she could confront Jacob, Barbara needed to at least have an idea what it was all about. Why did they preserve and dress up those corpses for a Christmas party. Who was the party really intended for, Jacob or the corpses themselves? What were the corpses to Jacob, did he see them as people from his past. And finally why the hell did they all have to have smiles on, were the smiles even important?

The only lead Barbara had was when they’d spoken to Jacob at the funeral parlour. Christopher had asked him where he used to live. And Jacob replied that he had almost come full circle. So it stood to reason that he must live near to the house he grew up in. So she just needed to work out where Jacob originally lived, and the only clue they had was that he lived next door to a funeral parlour that his brother was obsessed with.

Barbara prayed there was something in the notes Christopher took that would shed some light on any of it. She just had to wait to be let out, and wait she did.

Eventually after what seemed like an endless darkness, beams of light slowly began to filter through the glass of a small high up window. Day was finally returning and the very long night of Barbara Huxley was coming to an end.

Time after that seemed to speed up dramatically and before Barbara knew it the door to her cell opened and she was ushered through to freedom. David didn’t show his face, probably loath to actually let her go. But he did leave Barbara a message.

A young officer gleefully informed Barbara that David had his eye on her. She was not off the hook by a long shot. She was not allowed to leave the area as he would need her when he got to the bottom of things, and he would. Barbara shrugged off the threat. She knew they wouldn’t find anything. From now on she would keep two steps ahead, or better still fifty, and preferably round a corner out of sight.

After getting her handbag back and keys to her beloved Land Rover, she left the station to find where they had taken her four wheeled green beauty. Thankfully it didn’t take too long. The vehicle had been left, nestled between two cop cars in the stations car park.

The drive back to the cottage felt exhilarating, the wind blowing in through the two open windows. She hadn’t felt the wind in so long, it reminded her how much she loved being alive, sometimes for only the simplest pleasures like this. Then Barbara realised there was something missing, she turned on her CD player and a tune began to pound out of her speaker system.

The onlooker’s stare as Barbara drove through the town only increased her enjoyment. Let them stare she thought. Let them talk about the ancient lady in the ancient vehicle thumping out tunes only someone fifty years younger than her would like. Let them curse the stupid old bag who should know better, who should act her age. Barbara couldn’t stop smiling and laughing all the way back to Rose cottage. The last few days may have been dark indeed. But now was the time to step into the light and see better, do better. Now was the time Barbara fought back.  

2

Christopher woke from his slumber to find someone standing over him. He was sure his heart stopped for a moment, he thought the night’s events maybe weren’t entirely over.

“Are you alright Chris?”

Relief and joy got his heart kicking again, Christopher leapt out the sofa and flung his arms round Barbara. He’d never been so happy to see anyone before in his whole life.

“Alright Chris, alright. I’m not the second coming.”

“What happened where have you been?”

“Let’s just say an old friend held me back longer then he should. But I’m here now, so where are the files?”

Peter sat back down and lowered his head like he was a naughty child.

“I’m really sorry Barbara, I haven’t got them.”

“What” Barbara raised her voice louder than she had meant. “You lost them?”

“No. Last night we had a visitor. I didn’t get a good look because I hid”

“You did well to hide. Trying to save two people is enough work for the moment. Get yourself kidnapped next week if you really must, I’ll have time then.”

“Anyway he took the files. I heard him say he got what he came for, after he went I came down to the sofa and before I passed out I saw the files had gone.”

“Damn, back to square one then. I was hoping there would be at least something.”

“Wait a minute” Christopher said feeling into his pocket. “I remember I was reading a clipping when the cat hissed. I stuffed it in my pocket when I made a run for it.”

Christopher handed the crumpled paper to Barbara

“It may not be much, but that’s better than nothing at all I suppose”.

“You supposed correct Chris” Said Barbara as she studied the clipping. “This might be just what we need.”

The small piece of paper partially told a sad tale about a house and a neighbouring funeral parlour. The parlour had had a few break-ins where bodies had been moved, then one night a body disappeared completely. It was eventually found in the house next door after complaints of a bad smell forced police to break in. However it was not the only body to be found. A second body, belonging to the owner of the house - a father of two young boys - was lying not far from the stolen body. He had wounds around his neck that seem to indicate he had been strangled. The murdered victim’s two young sons have not been seen or heard of since.

“Is Jacob one of the two sons?” Christopher asked probably the most obvious question.

“I’m not sure there is no date or even description of where it happened.”

“You got a laptop? We could Google it, there’s bound to be something online.”    

“No I’ve got a better Idea. Betts and I know someone much better than any search engine. In fact he’s more like the repository of random and pointless information. Well pointless to anyone but us.”

“Who?”

“The Land Rover man.”

“The Land Rover man?”

“Obviously he’s very good at Land Rovers, been keeping ours going for years. Plus he’s even helped us on previous adventures. We had trouble with some Morris dancers once and he helped by infiltrating their ranks. You see on top of all his other skills he was a fantastic Morris dancer in his youth.”

“That’s not really a skill is it?”

“Of course it is. Tsk, the youth of today.”

“So that’s all you know him as, the Land Rover man?”

“Yes, but some call him Mike the strange dad.”

“Who would call him that?”

“His children, of course.”

“Right. So you think he might know something?”

“Worth a shot. He’s lived in these parts his whole life, has good local knowledge. Besides I need him to check over my baby and make sure those nasty officers haven’t done anything untoward to her.”

“Let’s go see this Mike then.”

3

The Land Rover man lived in a bungalow on the outskirts of High Hurst Wood. The bungalow itself was nestled in the side of a small hill littered with trees. Ahead of it a big open field, its only feature a collapsed barn of some description that had long ago given up its fight with nature.

The entrance to the property was at the top of the hill, so Barbara had to slowly drive down a very steep road that ran alongside the bungalow, down into a small car park at the base by the front door.

Barbara parked next to another ancient looking Land Rover. This one was much longer, so much so that Christopher wondered how it got round corners. He could hear the unmistakable sound of Green Sleeves playing from an open window of the bungalow. That song always put a smile on his face.

As soon as they had stepped out the Land Rover a dog bounded out the open front door of the bungalow and straight up to Barbara, sitting down in front of her his tail wagged like a windscreen wiper on the floor, pushing pebbles and dust back and forth.

The dog was a handsome fella his markings were black and white, not far removed from a friesian cow. And two patches of brown fur, one over each eye giving the impression of brows.

“Hello Bob” Barbara said patting him on his head.

The dog replied with a sound more like a moan than anything else, strangely not unlike what a cow would make.

“Well, you’re a funny fella” said Christopher.

The dog’s looked straight at Christopher with big soft brown eyes. Christopher was sure he raised one of those brown patches.

“Who is it boy” Came a voice from within the bungalow. Bob turned round and bounced back to the front door. A second later the owner of the voice appeared patting the agreeable mutt on the head.

“Why if it isn’t my seventh favourite woman in the whole universe” He laughed as he walked down the path to meet Barbara and give her a big hug.  “So where’s my Sixth favourite woman. I didn’t know it was possible to unglue you two.”

“That’s the problem Mike she’s been kind of misplaced along with Christopher’s friend.”

“Ah so this is Christopher” Mike said whilst vigorously shaking Christopher’s hand. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve misplaced them. How can I help?”

Mike the strange Dad didn’t seem that strange at all, maybe a little old fashioned but friendly enough. He wore a wax jacket with jeans and brown boots. He didn’t have much hair on his head, except a few bits either side and a couple of strays on top. However he made up for this with an impressive black and grey beard beneath. 

Christopher noticed that at all times, even when the man spoke, he expertly kept a pipe chugging away from the corner of his mouth.

“To start with, if you don’t mind I’d like you to have a look at the old beauty. She spent the night at the police station.”

“Already on it” Mike said walking over to Barbara’s vehicle. He ran his hands along the side of the land rover and spoke to it. “What did those nasty officers do to you?”

“Right, while Mike takes a look at her” said Barbara. “Go and make a brew for everyone will you Chris?”

“Err sure” Christopher said, than turned to Mike “If that’s okay with you Mike?”

It took Mike a second to get out of his trance before answering.

“Of course Christopher, rule one, never argue with a lady. Oh and make one for dear old Ma, she’s in the lounge watching a video I think. Go and introduce yourself, she won’t bite honest.”

Barbara laughed. Christopher wondered why, than thought it was probably better not to ask. Instead he just turned and walked up the path into the bungalow.

“The kitchen isn’t far just straight through the door, go right at the glory hole then the first door on your right after that.”

“Glory hole?” Christopher sniggered.

“Big walk in cupboard where we keep all the useless junk.”

“Why do you keep it if it’s useless Junk?”

“In case it becomes useful again.”

“And has any of it?”

“No” Mike smiled. “But you never know”

Christopher chuckled as he walked into the bungalow. The glory hole must be Mike’s equivalent of Barbara’s handbag.

The kitchen wasn’t hard to find, neither was the kettle so he promptly filled it up and turned it on. However, while it boiled away in the background he was having a bit of trouble finding the teabags. He had to introduce himself to the Land Rover man’s mother so he could ask her, he supposed.

Back out the kitchen Christopher walked past a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. Then round the corner it opened out into a dining room, beyond that a large lounge area in the shape of an L. So Christopher had to turn one more corner before he was finally confronted with old Ma.

Mike’s mother sat in a brown chair at the furthest point of the room, opposite her was an old telly positioned on a small table.

“High there” Was all Christopher could think of saying to distract the lady from an image on the television of a woman eating a chinchilla whole. She turned to Christopher and studied him without saying a word.

“I’m a friend of Barbara’s, your sons looking at our Land Rover and they’ve sent me in to make tea. Would you like one?”

“Can’t say no to a cuppa” She replied picking up her empty mug to pass it to Christopher. He stepped forward to grab it when she suddenly shouted. “Stop”

“Ah?”

“Look down boy.”

Christopher looked down and saw his raised foot hovering over a small Shiatsu. Christopher quickly moved his foot and lowered it.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, just be careful, he’s a bit irritable at the moment, suffering from flop bot.”

Christopher was about to ask then as he momentarily dwelled on it realised he definitely didn’t want to know. Next to the small suffering dog was the smallest cat Christopher had ever seen, it took him awhile to notice it as it had such dark tortoiseshell markings it all but merged into the carpet, except two bright yellow eyes that beamed straight up at him.

“You’re gorgeous” Christopher said to the tiny creature as he picked it up and cradled it in his arms. As though an automatic reaction, the puss began to purr deeply to the point that Christopher could feel it vibrating through the entire cat’s body.  

“She’s a new resident” The old lady said “Haven’t even got a name for her yet”

“My god, she’s teeny.”

Old Ma looked at Christopher with a puzzled expression, gave him her mug and settled back into watching her program.

“It’s my favourite bit in a minute” She added, her eyes transfixed to the screen. “The woman pulls her skin off and she’s a lizard underneath.”  

Christopher started back towards the kitchen but was stopped by Old Ma without taking her eyes off the screen.

"What you are looking for, you wont ever find it."

"I'm sorry?" 

"Tea bags. Never in this house, you'll find leaves and a strainer in a metal tin with wheels, it looks like a van." 

Christopher thanked Old Ma and went back to the kitchen. He immediately found the tin as though it had uncloaked itself while he was out the room. The tin did indeed have four flat tin wheels on it - they could even spin.

Outside, Barbara was busy by the Land Rover quizzing Mike on his knowledge and any stories relating to funeral parlours. She showed him the newspaper article, the only remains of the files Christopher stole from All Smiles.

“Yeah, I remember that story. When I was a child it was already closed, but the older children used to tell us stories about the place and about the house next door.”

“What things?”

“That the dead came back to life then went next door and killed the owner of the house before taking his children.”

“Really?”

“Some said the funeral director was into voodoo.”

“Yeah I doubt that it had anything to do with the funeral director though.”

“I remember one child saying his older brother’s friend was in the same class as one of the children who went missing. I think his name was Victor. Anyway, supposedly the boy was really quiet, weird and morbid. He loved macabre things and one day in biology he kept asking the teacher questions about how to stop a corpse rotting.”

“What, so you’re saying the boy, victor, stole the body from the parlour next door?”

“I’m not saying anything, it’s only what I was told. And to be fair, contrary to how I look, it was a very long time ago.”

“So even if the boy did take the body to his house, why would he do it? Who killed their dad and if Jacob and this Victor are the two sons, where the hell have they been all this time?”

“Only one way to find out I guess.”

“So you say the funeral parlours closed. What’s there now?”

“Nothing, it was derelict for years, along with the house next door but in the end I think it was torn down.”

“What about the house?”

“No that’s still there, still derelict. It is owned by someone but they’ve never done it up and as far as I know never been inside. Maybe the owner is someone connected with its past who won’t place a foot in it but won’t let it be destroyed out of respect.”

“You mean someone like the two sons.”

“It would make sense.”

“And where is this house?”

“Other side of Uckfield, I think I spied a GPS in your Land Rover?”

“Of course.”

“Right I’ll tap in the address and you’re on your way.”

Just then Christopher slowly came out holding a tray, balancing three hot mugs of tea.

“You know what, you’re brilliant.” Barbara told Mike as she picked a mug off the tray then turning to Christopher as an afterthought. “Sorry Chris thanks for the tea.”

“Of course I’m brilliant. You aren’t so bad yourself, almost got you promoted to my sixth favourite woman.”

“MY goodness don’t do that, Betty will never forgive me.”

Mike laughed then thanked Christopher as he was passed his mug.

“So found out anything?” Christopher asked hopefully.

“Yes. We’ve got the location of Jacob’s childhood home, and there is the possibility that he and his brother now own it.”

“Wow, he is better than a search engine.” said Christopher winking at Mike. ”So after we’ve finished tea are we off?”

“We have finished.” Said Barbara putting her empty mug back on the tray, Christopher hadn’t even seen her drink it. “Come on Chris, no time to dawdle.”

“But I haven’t even started..”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing I’m coming”

“Thank you Mike, for everything. You’ll have to pop round again soon. Betty would like that.”

“Yeah that’s what I’m afraid of. Even so, I hope you do find her and she’s okay.”

“So do I, we haven’t been apart for this long before. I worry if she can cope.”

“Course she can, she’s not my sixth favourite for nothing.”

Barbara and Christopher said their goodbyes to Mike before climbing back into the Land Rover and making the slow ascent up the steep hillside.

Barbara drove to the derelict house slowly, giving the two of them time to take stock of everything.

“You got any questions then Chris?” Barbara asked.

“Yes one actually, about the Land Rover man.”

“Okay.”

“How comes you're number six and seven? Who are the other five?”

“It’s not important, just a joke.”

“Well if it’s not important, it doesn’t matter if you tell me does it?”

”I guess you’re right Chris. Now let me think.” Barbara was quiet for a moment, then it must have come back. “He’s never told me the first three, but number four is the woman from the good life, and Anne Robinson is number five.”

“Anne Robinson?”

“Yep, something to do with the way she used to wink at him on points of view.”

“And Bettys number six and you're number seven?”

“Yes. Right now that’s cleared up, I’ll make myself clearer. Any important questions Chris?”

“This place where we’re going, do you think Peter’s there?”

“I don’t know so don’t get your hopes up.”

“I understand, but you think it will eventually lead us to him?”

“Everything will eventually lead us to him Chris. Everything we do, every step we take is another step closer to understanding Jacob and getting Peter and Betty back.”

“You’re right. God I hope we’ll find something.”

“There’s always something to find no matter how small. And don’t worry we’ll get both of them back.”

“I know.”

“I’ll admit something to you, but it doesn’t leave this vehicle.”

“Okay”

“I have to find Betty and she has to be alive because no matter how much I pretend I can do this without her, I need her.”

For once Christopher felt like he had to comfort Barbara, this is something he never thought he’d ever have to do. Even someone like Barbara needs someone else to be strong. This strangely comforted Christopher knowing she was just as human and just as flawed as him.

“Oh Betty” Barbara said aloud. “Where are you?”

4

Betty awoke from a sleep so deep she couldn’t remember who she was for a second. It was pitch black and Betty felt really constricted. She felt around with her arms as much as the confines of her containment would allow. It didn’t take her long before she realised where she was, well, what she was in anyway. It was a coffin.

Dealing with a deranged funeral director, Betty supposed it was surely only a matter of time before one of them ended up in one. But why did it have to be her. It was always her, and Barbara always had to get her out of whatever situation she had got herself into. And she always did.

Then Betty had a big long think about the gravity of the situation or rather the verticality of it. She knew where she was, but she didn’t know where the coffin was situated. Was it stacked with a bunch of coffins in a room somewhere, maybe some kind of crypt with a door to the outside world? Or was she in fact further down, six feet to be precise, with mountains of soil and dirt between her and freedom?

“Oh bugger” she thought aloud though there was no one there to hear it. Maybe this was one sticky situation even Barbara couldn’t get her out of.

To Be Continued...