Midwinter Mystery - Chapter Fifteen

_{Midwinter Mystery}

_{Chapter Fifteen – Divided We Fall}

_{The feeling in John's arm grew intensively, rapidly transforming from being just uncomfortable to unbearingly painful. Then suddenly, it subsided - as quickly as it had begun. It's welcome release courtesy of the doctor, as he removed the deflated blood pressure cuff from around John's upper arm. “ Hmm, it's still a little high there, you know. Tell me, is there a history of high blood pressure in ye're family, at all ?” he queried. John mulled the question over in his mind for a moment, “ Well, I know my mother had low pressure pressure, and as for my father, well, he had a couple of mild heart attacks, but that's about all I know of their medical history, ” he answered solemnly.}

_{"Well that may account for it, I suppose. But, as I said before, these repeated episodes of anxiety of yer's, and continually getting' yer'self all over excited – aren't helpin' matters, at all. Ye're mentally making yer'self physically unwell – and vice versa – so yer are.”}

_{"I see,” replied John accepting his condition as he sat topless – once more -on the examination couch in the surgery room. “ So, you're saying I should slow down or... something ?”}

_{"I would indeed be sayin' dat, at least I would, if I thought yer'd actually listen to me, dat is,” acknowledged the physician, folding the blood pressure equipment away back into it's box.}

   _{John tried to warm himself up by briskly rubbing both arms simultaneously, “ Well, for your information I'm feeling a lot better this morning, thank you. Perhaps, it's because you let me sleep in so late – even though I wish you hadn't.”}

_{"Ahh, now is dat not me prerogative, so it is. Still, I'm pleased to hear that yer 'think', yer getting better. Just, don't be in such a hellfire rush there, to push yer'self faster than need be. And remember, dat the mind and body aren't two different things yer know, there connected to each other – like all things. So try and listen to them both, when they're talkin' ta yer,” counselled the doctor.}

_{"I'll try, I really will ! But, I can't promise you anything though. You see, cases can have a life of their own too, at times. And, when they do, it's they who dictate when you can eat, sleep or have a life. Sometimes, it's all one can do just to keep up with them. So, to get ahead of them, it requires something extra, something special – everything you've got,” he reflected ruefully.}

_{"Ahh, well I tried me best so I did,” the doctor said resignedly. “But it's as I feared - the patient is deaf as well as dumb,” he smiled amiably. Then gestured to John to turn slightly around and look up into the light – from the window behind – so he could inspect his eyes. “ What about those two other fellers of yours then, could they not give yer a bit more help – til yer back on ye're feet, that is ?” he asked thoughtfully, as he engaged the gently art of persuasion on one of John's eyes, opening it up beyond it's normal capacity – with his thumb and forefinger.}

_{"Uhh, the jury's still out on that one, doctor. I haven't decided yet whether they're more a hindrance than a help - to be honest with you.” answered John candidly, his extended eye twitching spasmodically with the unwanted attention.}

_{"I'll not be knowing them all that well, meself yer understand. But, I always thought them to be a harmless coupla o' lads, so I did. Infact, I wouldn't be surprised that if yer gave them half a chance they'd loike ta take good care of yer,”}

_{"That's what I'm afraid of !” admitted John, his face distorted from being interfered with. “ Ugh, I'm not sure if their idea of “taking care” of me... is the same as mine !”}

_{The doctor released John's watery eye, letting it fall back to it's original condition, and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “ Well, everything looks all right there, so it does. At least, I can't see any long term damage yet, anyhow !” Then the doctor moved over towards his bureau desk and began rummaging around in one of it's drawers for something. “ AHH ! THERE IT IS !” he exclaimed suddenly, holding up a small amber glass bottle.}

_{John sauntered his way over to the bureau - now fully dressed except for his shoes - to examine for himself what “it”, was exactly, “ What do you have there, then ?” he asked, peering more closely at the mystery container.}

_{"This ? Why it's yer medication of course, what else would it be ?” came the confirmation, as it was held up to the light. The bottle was of the half full variety and lined by a thin film of powdery residue, which made it almost impenetrable to the human eye.}

_{"Medicine ? Me ? Oh no, that really won't be necessary, thank you !” said John.}

_{The doctor looked sceptically over his bifocals at the negative reaction, “ Ahh, let's not be havin' any of that, now. Fer it's nothin' but a mild sedative, so it is. To help yer mind unwind a little when yer need it !” he explained.}

_{"Hum, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not. It's just that I don't really like the idea of having to rely on support from... anything, right now !” clarified John trying to decline the offer as diplomatically as possible, without hurting the doctor's feelings.}

_{"Well, dat's up to yer I suppose. But they're only herbal, and I make them all here meself, yer know,” the doctor countered. John removed the cap of the bottle and holding it up to his nose took a sharp sniff of it's contents. The unmistakable pungent aroma that assaulted his senses, left him in little doubt to the exact nature and variety of it's 'herbal' composition.
“Look, why don't yer jus' take them for now. To be on safe side, like,” the doctor extended his small offering up towards John. “But, mind yer go easy on them though, they moight have a few... small.. side-effects, so they may,” he cautioned.}

_{"Side effects ? That doesn't sound good, what are they ?” John asked cautiously, relieving the doctor of the pill bottle and studying it's small worn label more closely.}

_{"Oh, well not dat much really. Perhaps, the odd bit o' drowsiness - or three - here and there.”}

_{"So, “avoid operating any heavy machinery” sort of thing, eh ?” confirmed John.}

_{"HEAVY MACHINERY ! Mercy, man, yer shouldn't be left alone on a BICYCLE, on this stuff !”}

_{"I see, is that all or is there anything else I should be wary of ?”}

_{"Well, I suppose yer moight experience the occasional hallucination, now and again. But nothin' to worry yer'self about, I'm sure,”}

_{"In that case then.... I definitely WON'T take them ! I'm doing quite nicely for those sort of 'side effects', as it is. And, I certainly don't intend on chemically inducing anymore, thank you very much !” concluded John. Returning his attention to the bottle in hand. he began tapping a finger on the small white label stuck to it's front, “ I can't quite make out the writing on here. What does it say exactly ?”}

_{"Oh that, why it's nothing but an old practice label. I always re-use the returned bottles, so I do. Fer are they not as hard to get around here as a decent tin of tobacco !” the doctor answered matter-of-factly. “ I always give them a good wash out mind yer - before I refill them. If dat's what's botherin' yer, ” he added recognizing the concerned expression on John's face.}

_{"But, your name's on it though, right ? Doctor Miller ?” John checked his facts.}

_{"Doctor Miller ? Now where the devil did yer get dat from ?” asked the doctor.}

_{"Oh, it was written on a prescription form I saw on this desk the other night,” John half turned round to look down at the bureau, but it had clearly been tidied since then and there was no sign of any such paperwork on it now.}

_{"Yer must have been dreamin' or somethin', probably still under the effects of dat blow to yer head. Gettin' things all mixed up and back to front, fer sure. Seeing things dat aren't there. It's bound to happen to anyone in ye're... state of mind, so it is,” the doctor thought out loud. “ No, me name's Doctor Seamus Michael Kelly O'Finnegan at yer service !” he revealed proudly. “ But, der's a lot of Irish in there to remember, so yer can just call me 'Doctor' if yer loike – most people around here do.”}

_{John frowned, he was sure he had seen that prescription, and the other doctor's name written upon it, the previous evening. But he could hardly corroborate his version of events by admitting that it was actually the ghost of his long dead wife who had brought it to his attention. Could it be that they were both nothing more than a creation, a by-product, of his own imagination. His inner mind struggling to piece together fact and fiction, reality and fantasy, law and disorder. An attempt to bring sense to a life - where there was none. Yes, perhaps in reality – and the cold light of day - neither of them ever happened or existed. Feeling a little light-headed for a moment he sat down on the armless chair and rested a while, waiting for it to pass. The suspicious part of his nature wondering if the doctor had surreptitiously administered a course of the 'medication' already, but he soon discounted this notion as being too fanciful.}

_{" I must be making a move back to the station house, soon,” John finally announced, his head firmly back on his shoulders. “ You never know, somebody there may have actually noticed my absence by now,” he mused slightly. “Any idea how I might get back there ?”}

_{"Ah, now as luck would have it, I do know of a feller who might give yer a lift back, so I do. He comes by this way most days. I don't know his name, but he always gives me a wave as he passes,” the doctor glanced at his pocket watch. “Infact, he's due by at any moment, so he is.”}"We'd better get moving then,” said John standing to his feet. “ Oh, by the way, what sort of a vehicle does he have ?” he checked warily.

_{"Well, it's one of them horse and trap sort of contraptions, so it is,”}

_{"Oh, really,” replied John more warily. “ I don't suppose - by any chance - that there's more than one of them around here, is there ?”}

_{The doctor thought briefly about it, before delivering his verdict. “ No, no, I don't think so. Why ?” John's face noticeably dropped – followed by the rest of his demeanor - at hearing this. For this meant but one thing. Another unfortunate encounter with 'Lucky' the wonder horse - and its not so blessed owner - was on the cards. “ You know what, maybe I will take some of those tablets off you, after all,” he sighed.}

   _{Buster and George had finally gathered a small band of merry men together - some more merrier than others – almost, coincidentally, at the same time the public house had 'encouraged' it's patrons out onto the street for the afternoon. And met up with the vicar and his humble offering of volunteers as prearranged. Due to the pressing concerns about time, the vicar had already taken the liberty of dividing the search area into quarters, and selected which two parts he and his followers would be responsible for. The remaining half being left to Buster and George to carve up between themselves.}

    _{And so it was that they set off together up the long narrow steep road, up into the hills and beyond, on their way to the fields. For the most part, the spirit in the party was running high – although a lot of that may be contributed to the recent proximity of alcohol – and they made short work of the first half of the hill. A little less so on the the following half, and by the time they reached the top they were completely exhausted. While waiting for the last few stragglers to catch up with them the party took the opportunity to regroup. Some just needing to catch their breath, while others wanted to rest their weary bones, but all of them... deeply regretted 'volunteering' for this arduous expedition.}

_{The light snowfall earlier in the day only added to the their plight, as the dejected souls were submitted to irregular flurries of blinding snow. Newly fallen loose snow, lying on the surface of the bleak landscape, was being swept up and along by a series of low strong bursts of wind and hurled callously at them. And as if this wasn't enough, there was the noticeable decrease in visibility. Mist was coming, as it always did – as if in some strange way it knew - whenever someone trespassed this far out from the valley. Already the first wispy strains were creeping their way slowly, inexorably towards them – dragging it's body behind.}

   _{The mists in this region owed their unusual density to the fact that they were more of a hybrid - an elemental fusion between mist and fog. Conceived and forged by a number of meteorological forces and anomalies. Partly due to Mistry being much nearer to the coastline than would at first be thought. The high surrounding hills sheltering it away from the roar of it's sea and it's wild open tempestuos ways. But the deep valley could also be a mixed blessing at times. A burden which it's inhabitants had, had to 'adjust' to over the years - particularly in wintertime. For then, the hills ceased to be a sanctuary from the elements and instead became an inescapable open prison - under siege from the wintry ravages of the season. For those few months of the year the village was virtually barricaded in by a wall of snow and ice - patrolled by an eerie sentry of mist. The locals had a name for this unusual 'border' area - “No man's land.” And they tried, whenever possible, to avoid crossing it unless absolutely necessary, and on such occasions when this was so, they treated with deadly caution.}

  _{The weather wasn't the only thing giving them cause for concern. The subversive mutterings - which had been slowly simmering for the last mile or so – had started to grow in voice and number. Spreading it's discontentment like an infection through their ranks. Until the feeling of dissent could be contained no more. Many of them - mostly from Buster and George's camp – began to express their concerns, and fears, about the futility of carrying on any further. No reason was left unturned to strengthen their case for heading back home. But it was their closing argument that really helped matters swing their way. Choosing as they did, to reject common sense for the more radical approach of - fear and intimidation. Since the 'leave' party now outnumbered the 'remain' party by three to one, it was decided it best - for everyone - if they went 'peacefully' their separate ways.}

_{The remaining depleted party reassembled themselves and set forth again, continuing to follow the road - or at least as much as they could still make of it before it evaporated into the mist – in a heavy silence. A silence that spoke a hundred words of dark thoughts and unanswerable questions, for what lay in store for them. It wasn't much further before they began the descent down the other side of the hill. The slow climb up it now replaced by a rolling tumbling gait. Their pace quickening as the incline steepened and they were caught between worlds – no longer walking but not quite running. Their course set, and seemingly in the clutches of some irresistible force, they plunged headlong into the chilling barrier of vapour waiting below.}

    _{As the mist encompassed them all, they narrowed their eyes – adjusting their vision accordingly to the new atmospheric conditions – and squinted into it's grey depths. Mercifully, they could still make out course of the road, well for 30 feet or so ahead of them anyway, and the sombre escort of lined trees. They proceeded cautiously on, closing up their ranks in a more huddled formation. None daring to mention the fact that since entering the murky mass the temperature had fallen, and was continuing to do so, the greater the lack of transparency grew.}

_{But their luck, and their nerves, held. The mist seemingly granting them safe passage for the rest of their journey, or at least it didn't worsen as much as they feared. And there was still a few of hours of daylight afforded to them by the time they reached the fielded area. Although the parson warned them of the dangers of overstaying their welcome, “ Don't forget, we have to allow time for our return journey, and the later we leave it, the less light and more mist we'll have to contend with !”}

_{They broke up into two groups, and started out over the designated search areas – as earlier agreed. Once there, there subdivided again into lesser groups and spread themselves even more thinly out over the fields. There was a lot of area to cover and very few bodies on the ground, particularly where Buster and George's party were concerned. And the low hanging mist, seemingly hovering over the ground, ensured that this was going to be harder than they thought.}

    _{Such was the distance between the two parties, that contact with each other was virtually impossible, or at least highly impractical. So all they could do was carry on with their separate searches – uninterrupted - until one or the other had anything worth reporting. The adverse conditions and the semi-solitary state of the group started to wear heavy on them and seemed to prolong the passage of time. Soon, George was unable to tell how long he had actually been out there - was it two, three or more hours ? All he knew for sure was that the longer they stayed out there, the less chance there was finding anything. Then, as the light began to fade, along with any hope, George felt a sense of despair take hold of him. Was this it ? Had he failed his new chief ? And what was going to happen to everyone now ? Questions without answers, that's all he had. If he could only turn back time, maybe he could put things right. But, he might just as well pray for a miracle than to follow this line of thinking. No, all was lost that was all there was to it now, he thought. Turning slowly around, he looked back from whence he had came, the past always easier to see than the future. And there, in the midst of darkness came light. A fleeting wish given substance, a very dark substance.}

      

_{© Michael Burford, 2018}

_{https://plus.google.com/107528496066989305279}

Midwinter Mystery - The Prologue

      _{The Town of No Return - The Prologue}

     _{It was deep into midwinter, and the woods were heavy with a foreboding sense of death, that permeated the atmosphere of the chilling early morning. The wood, for the most part, was nothing more than just a collection of various shades of grey, punctuated by the odd coniferous tree, or two, with some of the more evergreen shrubs to offer the slightest resistance to the colourless scene. The rising sun hung low on the skyline as it's heavily filtered rays attempted to break through the skies freezing bleak shroud, with only minimal effect, to awaken another day - minus any of it's life-affirming warmth.}

_{But, despite this chilly tableau, the lower areas of the woodland, were showing signs that it's snowy covering wasin retreat, a fact wasted on the small, furry, inhabitants, who were still fully committed to their ritual states of hibernation, as if they knew, deep down, that this phenomenon was just a temporary polar ceasefire.}

     _{The raw, morning air was motionless, as if unable to move due to being saturated with the damp freezing cold. deathly silence. Then, from out of no-where, a crow suddenly swept down, cawing as it dove into the newly exposed wet leaves on the ground. It cawed once more while it's head flitted sharply around surveying the area for any tell-tale movement in the undergrowth, then plunged itself – violently - beneath the layer of leaves where it began tossing and turning the earth into the air, as it began the search for hidden morsels of food. Then, as sharply as it had began, it ceased. The crow's head shot to the surface as if sensing some unseen presence or danger, and cried out again and launching itself into the air, fast powerful wings, flapping wildly as it took flight, disturbing the leaves left behind. This radical displacement of the immediate landscape, revealed a foreign body – or rather part of one – re: one upturned frozen human hand, it's gnarled grey condition self-evident that life had long since slipped through it's icy fingers.}

   _{The crow had only removed itself to a few feet away, deciding to take refuge on an old warped rudely constructed signpost. Once more it commenced it's haunting lament, which seemed to echo in the emptiness between the trees, shattering the unearthly peace. Then slowly and steadily it began to pace along, from side to side, the top of the wooden sign, dislodging the last of the covering snow, and there, crudely etched into the wood in red was an arrow pointing the way, and underneath it, it simply read: Mistry – Dead Ahead .}

© Michael Burford, 2018

_{https://plus.google.com/107528496066989305279}

Midwinter Mystery - Chapter Fourteen - " The Town of No Return"

_{Midwinter Mystery}

_{Chapter Fourteen}

_{The series of short sharp stabs deep into it's very hearth, finally evoked the first few sparks of life from the pitiful looking fire, as it began to crackle, spit and glow it's way into existence. It was a small but timely reward for all of Buster's persistent efforts at rekindling the fireplace with nothing more than a box of short-fused matches and a rusty old poker stick, There was at last a dawn, a slim promise of a fire yet to be, rather than just the smoldering pile of smoke it had been for so long. Then, using the poker as a prop he struggled to his feet and rose up from the ashes.}

_{"Crikey, wot the heck's been going on in 'ere ?” coughed George as he entered the charge room.}

_{"I've been tryin' to light this blinkin' fire, ain't I !. What does it look like I've been doin' ?” replied Buster wearily dropping the poker down by the side of the grate.}

_{"I dunno, do I, cos I can't see nothin' on account of all this smoke !” George responded, waving a hand across his face to help alleviate his stinging eyes. “ 'Ere, don't you go startin' on me ! It's taken me half the stupid morning to get the darned thing going ! And I'm tellin' you now, if you bring another load of damp logs back here – you can flippin' well start the thing yourself !” Buster informed sharply. Then, as he peered through the smoky haze at his compatriot, it began to become clear to him the true extent of the problem. “Oh ! The perishin' chimney must be blocked up again or something. Probably another one of them bird's nests has got itself stuck up there, I expect ,” he surmised, whilst slipping his trouser braces loosely back over a pair of semi-collapsed shoulders, and then proceeded to brush a hand down the arms of his collarless shirt to wipe any of the loose sooty covering away from them.“ A good sweep up there should fix it !” he pronounced. George squinted over at Buster, his red eyes still sore from the smoky condition of the room, while he removed his overcoat, “ When did you last clean it out then ?” he asked. “ Eh ! Oh, no, It weren't me ! It was old Bert Harris, the window cleaner - don't you remember him ?” enlightened Buster. “ He used to wash all the windows around 'ere., at one time. Sometimes he'd even clear your gutters out and sweep yer chimney an' all ! Why the last time I saw him now was about...ohh, must be nigh on... well it couldn't have been longer than...” Buster stretched his greying matter to the limit before coming up with nothing, “ Ah ! Do you remember when they stopped rationing ?”}

_{"Yeah, it was 'bout six or seven years ago now, weren't it ?” George answered hanging his coat up on the coat stand. “ 'Ere ! That wasn't the last time it was cleaned out, was it ?” he asked incredulously.}

_{"Nah, of course not ! That's when old Bert kicked the bucket – passed away I mean, that is !” said Buster respectfully correcting himself.}

_{"No, I reckon it was probably about five, or so, years before that !” Buster nodded knowingly, confirming his belief and ran a hand around the inside top of his trousers stuffing his shirt tails back into them,}

_{"Blimey ! That'll make it over 10 years ago, no wonder it's blocked. We must have cremated 'alf the bloomin' wood up there since then !” George interceded, lifting the flap counter up as he made his way through into the main room.}

_{"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right !” said Buster. “ He used to let me watch him do it, you know. He had this special long pole, you see, and you could attach other bits onto it to make it longer, if you needed, and then he'd stick this round wiry brush on it's other end and shove it right up...”}

_{"Don't go giving me any ideas old-timer, you're already looking all Sooty and Sweep as it is,” George interceded. “ And if you keep goin' on about it I know just the small wiry thing I'll be using to shove up there, meself !” he concluded as ran a finger over the thin layer of soot on the counter top. “ Look, I'll crack open a window in here to let some fresh air in, while you get started cleaning this mess up before the Chief gets back,” he suggested.}

_{"So you think he's gonna come back, then ? ” Buster asked cynically.}

_{"I hope so. But I jus' don't know what could of 'appened to him,” George sighed heavily. “ I went back out to the field this morning to have another scout around for him, but it's just the same as yesterday. No clues, no sign, no Chief !” George replied despondently before commencing thumping on the sides of the window frame, a couple of times, with his closed fist to loosen it enough to open on it's frayed sash cords.}

_{"I thought you were going to ask around the village this morning, if anyone had seen him ?” queried Buster, kneeling back down by the fireplace to start sweeping up some of the ash and soot debris up with a dustpan and brush.}

_{"Nah, I changed me mind 'bout it. I mean what's the point, most people here haven't even met him yet so how would they know if they'd seen him or not ! It's like asking them to search for a stranger in a haystack !” answered George. “ You know, I was thinking, do you realise that I'm probably the last man to have seen 'im alive,” he continued solemnly.}

_{"Blimey ! As if things weren't bad enough for him already !” Buster chimed in.}

_{"Wot d'yer mean by that ?” challenged George defensively.}

_{" Jus' that he hasn't exactly been lucky since he got here, 'specially when he's been with you, has he ? I mean he's been here just a couple of days and he's already had a crack to the head, been in a car accident and now he's gone missing – just like the other fellah !” Buster explained himself.}

_{"Well, that ain't all my fault !” George snapped sharply.}

_{"Mebbe not, but come to think of it, you have been with him every time something bad's 'appened to him, aint'cha !” Buster's mind seemed to become clearer than the state of the smoke filled room they stood in.}

_{"Wot are you trying to say ?”}

_{"Nothing ! But if he don't turn up again soon then things might not look too good for either of us, will they ?” Buster responded in a rare moment of clarity. “ And if news ever gets out back up the line that we've lost someone else -well, people might start thinking something funny is going on down here !”}

_{"SOMETHING FUNNY' IS GOING ON DOWN 'ERE !”}

_{"Yea, but they don't know that, do they. All they'll see is that you and the Chief went out one morning - and only one of yer came back !”}

_{"Lumme, you're right ! I never thought of it like that !” George started to fully appreciate the darker implications of his predicament. “'Say, we'd better get a move on to find him and fast ! Otherwise, my head's for the chop, for sure !”}

_{"I DON'T BELIEVE IT ! YOU HAVEN'T ANOTHER ONE ALREADY !” came the unexpected and abrupt outburst from behind them. Turning sharply around they were confronted by the unexpected arrival of the vicar, who had entered the station, unannounced, to catch the tail end of their confessional conversation - and was clearly alarmed to hear this disturbing development. “ How long has he been missing ?” he asked tersely.}

_{"Oh, 'bout a day or so,” George answered with a shrug of the shoulders.}

_{"A DAY ! Why didn't you come and tell me about it, I might have been of help ?”}

_{"Well, we were kind of hoping he'd sort of turn up on his own like, sometime” answered George rather sheepishly.}

_{"Hmm, 'hoping' is just a poor substitute for praying, young man. But, I suppose it doesn't do any harm either, let us just pray that he is somewhere safe and well for now !” reflected the vicar solemnly. “ I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound as if I'm judging or preaching to you, or anything like that, even though the pair of you are clearly in need of it,” the vicar continued, changing the nature of his discourse to a more humanitarian and empathic tone. “ But this situation could effect the lives of so many others, more than just yourselves, you know. You do realise that, don't you ?”}

_{George felt a pang of discomfort in his stomach, a condition that had been growing strangely worse over the last few hours. The exact cause of which was elusive to the P.C. Could it possibly be perhaps that despite his rather cavalier approach to work and numerous personal foibles, the thought of being responsible for a life other than his own was starting to weigh heavy on his conscience – as well as his digestive system !}

_{"Of course I understand, to a degree, why you would prefer rather to keep this to yourselves. What with your, shall we say, somewhat dubious past record on the subject - colleagues mysteriously vanishing and so forth,” the holy man conceded. “ I believe Oscar Wilde, may have assessed your situation more succinctly and colourfully when he wrote, 'To lose one Chief may be regarded as being unfortunate, but to lose two is just plain carelessness,' I trust you'll forgive my little paraphrasing there, ” he asked, his mouth turning up at the sides with small smile, as he stood as close to the counter as humanly possible, his hands clasped together on it's surface, their fingers knitted together in a holy union.}

_{"Well, if it's good enough fer that 'Wilde' fellah then it's no bother to us either,” answered Buster - admittedly without fully understanding what he was replying to – from somewhere under a pair of heavily perplexed wiry eyebrows, nudging his co-conspirator sharply in the ribs for support. But, George's thoughts were busy elsewhere, keeping him too preoccupied to respond, “ Do yer think it really looks that bad, your Reverence ? I mean we didn't have nothin' to do with it – honest !” he ejected nervously. “I tried me best to find him yesterday. Honest did ! I searched all over that field, twice, but there just weren't nothing of him - anywhere. Then by the time I'd finished and walked all the way back 'ere from up there it was jus' too late in the day to go knockin' on anyone's door,” George spoke surprisingly straightforward and responsibly, perhaps trying a bit too hard to justify himself to his inquisitor. “Besides, it sounds like he's probably better off somewhere else - away from me !” he added cynically, in lieu of recent events.}

_{The vicar nodded his head, on a number of occasions, throughout George's story and explanation for not involving anyone else at the time, as if acknowledging his approval of the Constable's conduct in the matter. And at the end of it all he seemed sufficiently satisfied that they had acted with the best - if not the most diligent - of intentions. And decided, for now, not to trouble them with the original reason he came over to the station in the first place, or that he was to harbouring his own grave reservations about things yet to come. “Now let's have any talk like that right now, young man, Instead let us concentrate our thoughts on finding the Inspector, shall we. You know, it's at times like these that we find out who our true friends are, those who we can really depend on. Now, I appreciate this may not exactly fall under an ecclesiastical matter as such, but I say 'carpe diem' ! So, why don't we form a search party of other like minded souls – people who we can trust - and strike out while the trail is still, relatively, fresh. Unity, secrecy and pray are our greatest allies right now in locating the Inspector as soon as possible. Because, I assure you gentlemen, that if we fail - your heads won't be the only one for the 'chop' !” suggested the vicar, darkly.}

_{"Now, I fear that time and providence may not be on ours, or the Inspector's, side for much longer,” he warned, his hands breaking formation and splaying their fingers out across the counter, as if he was preparing to launch himself over it . “ Therefore, I propose that we give ourselves only until the end of the day to locate him, and if we're still a man down by the then, we'll no other choice but to surrender ourselves to the mercy of the authorities ! And from then on the 'die is cast', as they say, for us all. This whole village will fall under the closest of scrutiny for this, mark my words ! We will won't be friends and neighbours to them, we'll simply be – suspects ! I dare say such an investigation would draw all manner of people down here, stirring things up and causing disruption to our peaceful way of life. Then there's all the photograph's and intrusive questioning into our personal affairs. No, none of us would want any of that – would we ?” he asked staring across the counter at his would-be collaborators, shaking his head in a leading manner.}

_{The two beleaguered respondents shifted awkwardly on their feet for a moment before following suit, hesitantly shaking their heads in agreement in a kind of conditioned reflex. “ Very good ! Well, in that case may I suggest we proceed with all due alacrity gentlemen. I'll return to my church and ring the bells, an alarm call to rally my followers. Whilst you rustle up a select band of villagers of your own. Then we'll meet back here and divide into smaller groups to cover more area. Agreed ?” Once more the pair answered with their heads, silently nodding them. “ Yeah ! sounds all right ! Hey, maybe we should have done all this when the Sergeant disappeared, eh ?” piped up Buster, shuffling nearer to the counter.}

_{"Perhaps, who can say for sure. Unfortunately, hindsight is a cruel gift that only avails itself to us AFTER the tragedy. Still, let us not dwell on such thoughts shall we – they'll only... complicate matters. Instead, we should simply take comfort from the fact that you know you tried your best, and when all is said and done that is all anyone can ask of you - or we of ourselves. If you ask me, the only good things that can be drawn from the past are memories and lessons, everything else like regret and guilt are best left closed away with yesterday !”}

_{The vicar bade a final farewell and with a slight gracious bow of the head he took his leave of them. Only to pause at the doorway and turn around, his face betraying a perplexed frame of mind. “ By the way, do you know why the Inspector was sent down here now – at this particular time ? I mean, it's not as if there's been any new development in the Sergeant's disappearance or anything – has there ?” he asked casually.}

_{"We dunno, he didn't say nothin' 'bout it to us. Why ?” George replied lifting the counter flap open again.}

_{"Oh, no reason,” responded the vicar innocently, “ just natural curiosity, I suppose.” And satisfied with the answer he turned on his heels and continued on his way out the door.}

_{Buster followed George through the counter and joined him by the window to watch the mild cleric strolling away. “ I wonder why vicars use all those funny words when they talk ?” mused George thoughtfully.}

_{"Wot, LATIN ?” snapped Buster.}

_{"Nah ! The big ones, y'know - the ones no one else understands !”}

_{"Beats me, I never understand him what he's talkin' about half the time anyway, and the other half I don't listen to,”}

_{"Yeah, his English does sound a bit Double Dutch don't it ! I guess its must be 'cos of them 'enthusiastical' matters he was going on about !” George concluded rationally while retrieving his overcoat from the stand. Slipping an arm into one of the coat sleeves he let out another thought, “'Ere, what do yer make of all this 'posse' stuff, then ?”}

_{"Well, I don't think we've got much choice in it, I mean we ain't exactly done much good on our own so far – have we ? At least this way there'll be more people to share the blame around with when things go wrong !” came the voice of experience.}

_{"Hmm, you might 'ave something there, old-timer. Hey, you never know,” said George settling the coat comfortably over his shoulders, “ if we manage to find the Chief ourselves they might even give us a medal or something !”}

_{"What like a CBE, or one of them RCMP's ?”}

_{"RCMP ! You silly clot, don't you know nothin',” laughed George. “ It's a RSVP !”}

_{George started off towards the door, “ C'mon then, let's get a move on. Something tells me we've got a long day ahead of us !” he said over his shoulder.}

_{"A long, cold, wet one, I reckon !” said an unimpressed Buster. “ 'Ere, I just had a funny thought, we have to find a group of people before we can get started to find one man ! Heh, Heh, Heh” he chuckled to himself.}

_{"Yeah, hilarious !” replied George sarcastically. He watched Buster convulsing at his own joke for a moment. “Mind you don't do yerself a mischief laughing like that,” he advised. And then followed with, “ Where d'yer think we should start looking ?”}

_{"The pub !” proffered Buster without hesitation.}

_{"Done !” accepted George, “but just one small one though, got it !”}

_{"'Course, just one small double to whet me whistle like, and then we'll see who wants to get lost with us.”}

_{"Hmm, okay well I'll wait over there for you, then,” said George buttoning up his overcoat.}

_{"Eh ! What are you talking about, Im comin' with you,”volunteered Buster.}

_{"Nah, you won't. You've got to get yer'self cleaned up and....”}

_{"'And' what ?” Buster challenged,}

_{"Well, we're gonna be out for quite a while, right ?” George reached for the nearby door handle, “So... you'd better put that fire out, before you leave !” And with that he jumped out the door pulling it quickly shut behind him.}

_{© Michael Burford, 2018}

_{https://plus.google.com/107528496066989305279}

Midwinter Mystery - Chapter Thirteen - " Death of a State of Mind"

_{“ Death of a State of Mind ”}

_{“ YEAAAHH !” John screamed out in torment, his half naked body tensed in an reflex action. “ YOUR HANDS ARE FREEZING, MAN !” he exploded, spasmodically shivering from the aftershock. He was laid out on a examination couch in what appeared to be an old doctor's surgery. The couch was pushed closely up and under a murky tall window, framed either side by a pair of long dusty looking curtains, drawn wide open in the half dark room. The only other source of illumination was supplied by a brass and green glass banker's lamp standing on a beaten up roller bureau over subscribed with various bits of paper over on the far side of room.}

_{“ Ahh now, are not cold fingers jus' the sign of a good doctor. As me good father - God rest his soul - used to say “They provide a tonic for the soul, touching the parts dat the deevil 'imself cannot reach,” answered the mature looking gentleman standing over John. He had an amiable disposition about him supported by a well lived-in figure and topped off with a crown of fluffy white hair, which didn't have so much a style about it as more a free roaming attitude.}

_{“ Well in that case then, you're over qualified !" retorted John, "I still don't remember all that much about what happened to me after the accident,"he continued as he grasped a thin white crumpled sheet from the bottom of the bed and dragged it up over himself."The last thing I recall is the car door swinging open - probably due to crashing through that gate - then falling out of the damned motor.After that, things get kind of blurry."}

_{“ I'm not surprised at all,” answered the doctor, “ Ye've a fair few cracks ta the head there. I expect ye're memory is just havin' a rest for a spell – you should try it yer'self sometime,” he paused as he stood over John, hands resting on either side of a stethoscope dangling around his neck, to let the suggestion sink in for a moment. “You say, you just found me wandering around in some field, on my own ?” quizzed John, trying to put the pieces together. “ That would be the truth of the matter. Mary and me saw yer out in the field there,” the doctor pointed a finger out towards the window to indicate a large expanse of open country in the distance, “ while we havin' one of our walks. At first I thought yer were lost or somethin', but then yer went and collapsed right in front of us.”}

_{“ Mary ? Is that your wife ?” asked John.}

_{“ Me dog, man !” the doctor answered sharply. " No, the wife has never taken' ta the walkin' there, she says it disagrees with her constitution.”}

_{“ I see,” said John, gently massaging the back of his neck to ease some of the stiffness and pain out of it. “ Still, I find it hard to believe that you managed to carry me all the way back here on your own.”}

_{“ Ahh, well I can hardly take all the credit for it meself now, for did not your own legs lend a hand there themselves ?” the doctor smiled warmly leaning forward to inspect John's dressing for a final time. “ Huh, d'yer ever stop to tink about the human brain at all,” he murmured still intently studying his handiwork, “ Is it not the most fragile and complex organ in the human body. Responsible for keepin' us all goin' without botherin' ourselves with all the details. And then there's all the thinkin' an' the walkin' and so forth, not too mention the dreamin', not forgettin' those hopes and fears dat we all suffer from. Why life jus' wouldn't be worth living without it, for sure” his lecture concluded he straightened up and relieved a small pair of bifocals from their duty at the end of his nose.}

_{“ Sorry, are you making a point about something ?” John asked finding it hard to follow the physician's line of reasoning to a logical conclusion, due to injury or not.}

_{“ Well, would ya not consider stoppin' all the bashin' about of it, man ? Y'know, I thought you were close to knockin' on the Pearly Gates there for a while. If we hadn't found you when we did, then you might have been talkin' to somebody more 'higher up' than meself, right now,”}

_{“ Really ?” John started, clearly shaken by the revelation. “ I know I blacked out there a couple of times, but I didn't realize I was as bad as all that !” He carefully dismounted from the bed and stumbled over to the rest of his clothes which were thrown across the back of an armless chair. “ Easy lad, why don't you just sit yerself down there for a while, before you fall and risk undoing all me good work,” observed the doctor. “ Y'know what, I'll do the same thin' meself, after all have I not got more weight on me shoulders than me feet know what to do with already.”}

_{John took the doctor's suggestion without resistance and lowered himself gently down onto the seat. It was then that he had afforded himself the opportunity to inspect the rest of his surroundings. The lower walls were half wood panelled in large square sections, while the upper walls were covered in a plain reddish brown wallpaper with a set of double lamped wall lights – not working – one set on either side of the room. Besides the couch, the bureau, and the chair John was sitting on the only other furnishings were a wooden swivel chair, a bookcase with crammed shelves, and a coffee type table. There were two other things about the room that caught his eye, one was the glass case – mounted on the wall – containing a macabre example of taxidermy.A bird of prey, a sparrowhawk as best as John could discern,was suspended in time on an eternal hunt. It's wings fully extended and bearing it's sharp deadly talons for the kill of a fearful looking field mouse. The second observation was a far less dramatic experience as it concerned the olfactory senses rather than the visual. Lingering in the air was the unmistakable trace of an exotic scent, one that he was only too familiar with in his professional capacity.}

_{The doctor reclined in the creaky swivel chair, tilting back in it as far as it would go, he slowly rotated around to face John. Sitting patiently and quietly for a while, keeping an ever watchful - but discreet - eye on his patient's progress and then rubbing his chin in a pensive frame of mind asked, “Tell me, this 'Cathy' woman that yer kept callin' out ta on the way back here, is she ye're wife or somethin' ?” John looked solemnly down at the floor, seemingly fixating his attention to one single spot and spoke as much to himself as to anyone else, “ Yes, she is. Well.. she was..” The question proved harder to answer than he thought – for aren't we are all in some way identified, categorized and remembered by the labels we attain from those dearest to us in life. And is not these that not only define our relationships with one another but establish our existence, our identity, our very souls. A name is but a part of who we are, but it's our designations and personal choices of who wish to share this fleeting journey of ours with that truly define us, and transcends any earthly bond. A domestic animal's stake to the claim of 'pet' is beyond perpetuity – in fact they're anthropomorphic qualities only increase with fondness by their owner/family. To a child -whatever their age - a parent, will forever – and deservedly – always retain their respected titles of Father and Mother. Friends( best of ), those people in our lives who have accepted us foilbles et al, as much as we have them and theirs – there is no expiry date stamped on the honoured position - 'a Friend for life'. And for those few people that cross our lives however briefly, who stimulate, challenge and encourage us to grow as individuals and in doing so enrich our lives for all the better, these role model people will always retain the rank of 'special', when they are remembered.}

_{As the saying goes, 'Till death do us part', and for many and certainly as far as John was concerned this was a point of considerable conjecture. With all this in mind, he gave the reply the due deliberation and respect it deserved, “ She.. er,..passed away a few months ago you see. She was killed in a car accident. I wasn't with her when it happened. I was working – as always,” recounted John, his eyes glistening with sorrow and regret. “ The last time I saw her we were married,” he held up his left hand, displaying a gold band wedding ring on it, which he lightly rolled around using the thumb and forefinger of the other hand before clenching his hand into a fist.“And then we weren't. I didn't even say good-bye to her. Maybe that's why I still feel as if she's my wife in some way – I'm married, married to a memory. I guess that doesn't make much sense, does it ?” John's head hung heavy and slowly sunk into the palm of his hands to help carry it's burden. He hadn't intended to open up so much if at all, perhaps it was the concussion talking out of turn or maybe it was the first time since his wife's death that there was nothing else to hide his true feelings behind.}

_{“ Ah, I'm not sure yer askin' the right man about dat sort of thin'. For have I not seen too often how death takes the sick as mercilessly as the healthy, and the young as freely and as cruelly as the old. No, I can't say dat there's any sense or reason to anything where death is concerned,” replied the doctor thoughtfully. “ But, I'm sorry to hear about ye're loss, it's a great shame, so it is. You know it's sad thin' dat there's still no known cure for grief yet - except for time. ' The great healer' so they say it is, but like medicine it can tak' longer to work it's course on some as it does on others. It all depends on the patient, whether they're ready, or want, to be healed yet. And not even a foine doctor like meself can do anythin' to help dat, yer know. But now listen, I'm sure your good lady wife wouldn't like to see you sufferin' like dis, especially if she knew it was on account of her, would she now ?”}

_{It was a good question, no doubt about it, and the answer was simple – simple but still no less easy for John to accept. “ No, she wouldn't. In fact, she'd probably give me a hard time about it, then give me one of those smiles of hers, the type that made the dimples of her cheeks standout, and tell me in some clever way to move on with my life.” he remembered warmly. Lowering his shoulders he sunk into a well of despair, “ It's just that I can't stop thinking about how she died. Lying there all alone in the middle of the road," he raised his head and looked straight at the doctor, his eyes glistening with remorse."I should've been there for her ! To hold her in my arms, for the last time, to comfort and reassure, To tell her that everything was going to be all right - and not to be afraid ! To tell her that I loved her,” he choked.}

_{“ Here now, laddie, don't go getting' yerself all worked up about things like dat,” counselled the doctor, leaning forward in his chair. “There's plenty of sadness in life to go around as der is. And I've not a heard a case yet, where it's been helped by blamin' yer'self for not doin' anythin' about somethin' dat you didn't know was goin' to happen in the first place. John raised his head a deep quizzical expression drawn across it's brow, “ WHAT ?” he asked curtly.}

_{“ I'm just sayin', fer all the tings in loife yer can change, there are just as many dat yer can't. It's jus' the way it is lad, and ders nothin' any of us can do about it. Now yer told me dat it was an accident a moment ago, well perhaps yer should keep tellin' dat to yerself, more often,” the doctor clarified as he busied himself with cleaning the lenses of his glasses with a handkerchief – more out of habit than necessity. John dropped his head dramatically back into the palm of his hands, as if to escape the truth, “ I know, I know ! I've said the same sort of thing myself a hundred times or more to other people, friends and families of victims. But now they're just empty words to me, meaningless things that are spoken to others to make them feel better and protect their feelings.”}

_{“ Have yer not talked ta anyone at all about this ?” enquired the doctor, a concerned note in his voice. “ Ye're family, surely they must have been some comfort to yer ?”}

_{John drew himself up and slumped back into the chair, “ No, no one ! I'm an only child and my parents died a few years back. As for the rest of my relations they're few and far between these days, and I'm barely on Christmas Card terms with the best of them. And Cathy's family... well, I could hardly bother them with my troubles when they're grieving with their own loss. No, I have to deal with this myself – alone.” John closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, “ If only I could get past thinking about the last time we were together. Mornings are the worst. It was early in the morning and we were in the bedroom. The sun shone brightly through the net curtains, and crossed the room falling over the dressing table where she was sat brushing her hair. I was running late for work – nothing new there – and halfway out the door when Cathy called me back to remind me of some dinner engagement or other that evening. I told her I'd try my best to make it, but I couldn't promise anything – as always. Police work can be very unforgiving when it comes to a social life you know.” John rubbed his tired eyes then ran the hand down over his face until it came to rest over the mouth where it caught an escaping yawn. “ Then my staff car arrived to pick me up so I had to dash. And, that's how we parted. No kisses, No farewells.”}

_{“I see. Dat's a pity to hear, so it is,” the doctor's reply may have appeared somewhat perfunctory - but this was not the case. It was simply that his attention was more distracted by John's overall behaviour. Judging by everything he had seen and heard in this last few minutes he feared that John might be exhibiting the first signs of nervous exhaustion. “ I'll tell yer what, why don't I get us both a drink ? Yer could certainly do with one and me mouth doesn't like to see other people drinking on their own, so it does,” with that he stood up and started towards the door. Turning around before leaving the room he looked back over at John one final time, as if checking that his condition hadn't deteriorated any further in that short time and that he was wasn't in immediate danger of falling flat on his face. “ I'll be just a minute or two, so don't go moving yer'self about too much 'til then, all right !”}

_{The room fell silent, strangely ominously silent. John hadn't noticed it before but there wasn't even a clock in the room to tick away the deafening stillness. Even his own mind felt like it was starting to quieten down in empathy. He sat patiently and obediently in the chair while waiting for the doctor to return, although he probably couldn't have ventured that much further even if he had wanted to. As attacks of lightheadiness started to became more frequent and prolonged. John forced his eyes wider open in response to their closing demands and tried to shake out the tiredness from his system but this only seemed to aggravate the condition.}

_{He started to gradually subside in the chair, the flat ground beckoning him towards it, then without warning, “ You really should be more careful in future, darling,” came a disembodied voice from somewhere behind him. John nearly fell off his seat trying to catch up with his heart jumping out his chest. “ I mean, you haven't exactly got a thick head there you know, a thick skin perhaps – when it suits you. And as for your feet, well they're hardly up to regulation issue, flatly speaking that is, are they ?” Cathy leaned over her husband's shoulder until there was only a hair's breadth between their two faces, “Actually, the more I think about it, I'm not entirely sure if you're really cut out for this line of work,” she whispered wickedly into his ear, her eyes betraying her gently teasing. “ Still, I suppose everything must be relatively serviceable, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten away with it for all this time, would you ?” she smirked.}

_{“ Uughh, please my head hurts enough as it is,” mumbled John from somewhere under his head which was currently threatening to bury itself completely in his chest. He managed to turn his head around enough to glance at her but there was something different about her appearance this time, she seemed more cloudy in substance – neither transparent nor clear. She was also being uncharacteristically quiet at the moment as if disturbed by some deep thought, “ Don't you think you'd be better off sitting in a different chair, like one with arms for instance !” she finally spoke, following up her point with a similar action of the finger aimed at the swivel chair. John grunted a term of agreement and stumbled/fell his way across the room towards it. He tried to carefully lower himself down into the seat with the use of the chair's arms, like a parallel bars gymnast, but was still too weak to support his own weight and ended up dropping the last few inches, slapping hard down on his pride. This caused the chair to tip back sharply sending his legs flying up in the air. “ There, you see ! You're already starting to look more animated !” said Cathy sauntering over to him. John flung his feet back to the floor resulting in his upper torso being catapulted up and forward, almost out of the chair, “ Aargh, is this supposed to be your idea of helping me....then DON'T !” he groaned from a bent doubled position. “ Excuse me ?” Cathy responded as she looked at him challengingly then placing her hands on her hips she held her head high in the air to complete a defiant pose. “ Don't you go blaming me, Mr. Det.Inspector Almighty ! All I did was make a perfectly simply suggestion - for your own benefit I hasten to add,” she remarked indignantly.” How was I to know that you'd suddenly inflict yourself with an uncoordinated attack !” she remarked indignantly, alluding to his over zealous leg reactions. Sighing to dispel her annoyance, Cathy changed the subject to something a little less confrontational,“ So, while we're on the subject of 'help', what's the name of your new little helper, then ?”}

_{“ Huh, oh..well, it's..er,” John stopped in his tracks, as a feeling of doubt started to take root that somewhere in between his lapses of consciousness, the personal and physical examinations and general small talk that certain basic formalities may have gone slightly awry – in particular general introductions and the exchanging of names.}

_{“ I DON'T BELIEVE IT ! You don't know it, do you ?” Cathy laughed at the realization. “Lord, things must be bad if you're letting yourself be treated by someone you're not even on LAST name terms with.” She moved in closer, gazing at him with the warm tenderness that he had missed so much about her. For a brief moment he thought she was extending a hand up to his head as if to caress and soothe it, the way she used to, but a change of mind must have taken place for she suddenly lowered it to point instead at a blank looking form laying atop a mess of other papers on the bureau next to him. “ Wait a moment, isn't that a prescription form there ?” John glanced down towards it, “Yes, I think so. What of it ?” he asked not able to make the necessary connection between the two subjects. “ You really must pay more attention, darling. The doctor's name, surgery address and such forth should be printed on the bottom of it,” she leaned over to study it more intently. “ Ah, there you are – Doctor Miller. M.D, Nightshade Cottage, Mistry, etc, etc and so on. Well that's one mystery solved, I say this detective work really is quite easy when you get into it, isn't it ?” John had drawn a deep breath to give his open and frank answer to this red flag question but was prevented from venting his opinion by the return of his host.}

_{The doctor pushed the door wide open with his shoulder, his hands preoccupied with the responsibility of conveying two bowl glasses filled with equal but generous doses of a dark brown liquid. “ Ah, Dr Miller, I presume,” John welcomed the doctor's arrival in equally good spirits. “ WHAT ?” snapped the doctor, unsure of what had just been said. “ Oh, never mind,” dismissed John as he now felt somewhat foolish about making light of his Samaritan's name. “ Ah, good, I see yer've made yer'self comfortable there,” remarked the doctor as he made his way gingerly over to him. “ Here get some of dis down yer, it might just help yer to tink a little less about a lot of the things on yer mind,” he offered one of the glasses up to John. “ Now, I'm not advocatin' this as a long term solution, you understand,” this piece of advice was followed by a course of self medication, liberally - twice. “ I know, alcohol isn't the answer to anything. It just numbs the feeling, that's all,” acknowledged John swilling his drink around in the glass before throwing it back in one. “ Well, there is dat, but I was talkin' about how hard it is to get yer hands on a drop of the good stuff around here.” The physician finished off his drink, “ Ah, that's better, so it is,” he claimed, smacking his lips in appreciation. Then relieving John of his glass he took the opportunity of casting a critical eye over him once more. “ Yer know I was wondering if you wouldn't mind stayin' here with me and the wife this evening. I mean what with yer bein' still too weak to travel, and the night almost upon us,” he voiced his concern as he looked back toward the window and the dying sunlight.}

_{“ You sound as if you're afraid of the dark or something,” replied John as he twisted around in the chair trying to catch sight of his wife, but she had disappeared into the night like the sun. His head started to feel woozy, which was hardly surprising as swivel chairs, head traumas and alcohol invariable result in an unsteady mind. “ Ah, away with yer, man. I'm not afraid of the dark. It's what's out there lurkin' in it that scares me, as it does a lot of people in these parts. And if yer had any sense then... ” the doctor stopped himself short, there was no point continuing any further as he noticed his house guest's limp body now slumped in the chair, his arms dangling lifelessly down on either side of him. He checked John's pulse to ensure there wasn't any irregularity to it,“Ah, the old hard stuff never fails, to be sure. Sleep long and hard there lad, and don't worry, the darkness will be there, waiting fer you, another day – it always does,” he said to himself and patted John reassuringly on the shoulder. “ Now how the deevil am I going to get you back onto dat couch by meself ?” he pondered.} 

_{© Michael Burford, 2018}