18. A SUDDEN STORM

THE CASE OF THE DIAMOND DENTURES 18

After a period of the kind of weather bikini manufacturers pray for, it rained in the early hours of the morning, a sudden squall that beat down on the roof of the Land Rover, woke them all up and made them almost believe that they were shivering on the inside of a drum being hammered on by wild giants with mighty fists from the skies. The sound, loud and intimate, was horrendous and even gave the temporarily blind and partially deaf Blinky a headache.

He sat up and looked around him, but the world was black and he had forgotten where he was until he reached out and instead of feeling the wood of his bed-head that he used as a support when he wanted to go for a blind pee in the night, grabbed hold of a cold steering wheel.

“What the hell?” he shouted, and that would have woken both Royston and Angelina up had not nature’s battering on the Land Rover roof already done that.

“Are you there?” said Angelina into Royston’s ear, knowing he was but needing to say something.

“Have we gone to Hell?” he groaned.

“Could be, or we’re stuck in your car in the middle of a summer storm when we ought to be curled up in bed together and snoring,” she replied.

“My trousers,” he remembered. He’d taken them off and spread them on a nearby hedge where he hoped the sludge and mud from the landfill site would have a chance of drying out and maybe, with a bit of luck, crumble away over night.

“They’ll be wet,” giggled Angelina, “but never mind: you are decent if that picture of Mickie Mouse on your pants isn’t Minnie!”

“It’s Mickie.” he groaned, “and where’s this rain come from? The weather man said nothing about rain tonight.”

“We’re due some. They say there’s talk of a hosepipe ban if the dry weather carries on much longer, and we don’t want one of those if we’re going to keep our gardens watered,” she philosophised. “Anyway, tell me: why is it that otherwise sensible men like to wear silly underpants?”

“I dunno, and why is it that otherwise sensible women like to talk about them?” he asked.

“It’s something to take our minds off the complexities of life, I suppose,” she said, “like where’s that wretched set of valuable dentures when you want them and do they really contain what we’ve been told they contain or is it one big con to get us out of the way whilst something more important is going on?”

“Something more important than what?” he asked.

She shook her head in the darkness. “I have no idea. “The price of bread? Where Blinky keeps his spare set of keys? And why is Blinky so quiet?”

“Because I’m listening to you two nitwits,” came a voice from the front seat. “The rain seems to be dying down,” he added.

And it was. They could hear themselves talk without raising their voices, which was a sudden bonus. It had obviously only been a sudden and brief squall.

“If i was wearing my trousers I’d try walking back home,” said Royston after a long pause in which they all thought the same thing: I don’t think I’ll get another wink of sleep tonight in this tin can!

The rain clouds cleared as though they’d never been there, and a moon, almost full, hung like a bright balloon in the skies, shining down on the dire steaming sight of a landfill site at night.

“What’s that?” asked Blinky after a while. His eyes had started working again and he could see a sharp white and almost twinkling light in a swamp of rubbish.

“A baked beans can?” asked Royston, “that someone thoughtfully cleaned and polished so that it could twinkle like the night skies when it’s in a rubbish dump?

“Or diamonds?” breathed Angelina, “diamonds set in gold, twinkling for us to find it?”

“We wouldn’t see them from here,” commented Royston.

“Well, I’m going to check out,” decided Angelina, “you boys stay here. This is a job for young legs. I won’t be long.”

And without another word she climbed out of the car and darted through the gate that opened onto the tip.

“Urgh! That rain’s made puddles, and they don’t half stink!” she called to the two men who were staring from inside the car. “It’s alright for you,” she added, “all comfortable on nice leather seats while I’m out here in the dirtiest place on Earth!”

Royston felt a little guilty, letting the young woman venture onto the filthy site on her own, so vulnerable in her little skirt, but not guilty enough to consider going out and help her.

“It’s only a job for one person,” muttered Blinky, “a tiny thing like the dentures won’t need more than one to carry it, that’s for sure.”

“That makes me feel a whole lot better,” grunted Royston, and on an impulse he climbed out of the car and started following Angelina.

“Daft sod,” grunted Blinky, and he stayed where he was, watching.

He caught Angelina up and the two in the mire of a sodden landfill site couldn’t see much, though the moon did provide sufficient light for them to avoid the more obvious obstacles. And there were quite a few things that might have sent them flying if they tripped on them. As Blinky watched, Angelina in particular presented an intriguing sight, for she was still dressed in her pretty short skirt, and nobody had ever suggested that her legs were other than perfectly shaped. What a contrast she made to the filth all around her!

“She’s a corker,” Blinky muttered to himself from inside the Land Rover. He had nothing to mutter about Royston in his underwear, though.

The glittering object that had first attracted Blinky’s attention was no great distance from the entrance to the landfill site, but progress was slow for both Angelina and Royston, who was finding the going harder than the young woman was, held one of her small hands in one of his in a pseudo-protective grip.

“Just there,” pointed the young woman when they were mere yards away from the glittering object, and when they saw what it was they both sighed in unison.

“We might have known,” grunted Royston, “a bleeding mirror!”

“And broken, for bad luck, As if we could see something as small as a diamond from that distance,” grumbled Angelina. “And I need a bath,” she added almost fiercely.

“We both do,” grunted Royston, “and a broken mirror doesn’t do either of us any favours.”

“Mickey Mouse seems happy enough,” smiled Angelina, “come on, back to the car. And I’m, not taking this with us!”

She picked up the broken mirror that had attracted their attention as the moonlight struck it, and slung it from her with every bit of force she could muster.

“Hold it!” shouted Royston, “keep still!”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Here,” he grinned, and bending down he picked up the one thing that has been lurking out of sight underneath the broken mirror: a golden set of dentures set with diamonds.

“At last!” he breathed, “come on, back to the car before some other tragedy befalls us!”

But he spoke too soon. There was a wild shriek from above them, a sound that sent shivers down both of their spines, and a figure draped in black seemed to be dropping towards them, a figure seated with expert ease on a knobbly broomstick.

“I like your knickers, loser!” it shrieked as a hand swept towards him and reached for the gold he was holding.

© Peter Rogerson, 29,01,20