![]() ![]() ![]() 'Police stations are bad places to break into, this is well known.' Up at the bar Norman, who had quietly been reading a copy of the Brentford Mercury, said suddenly, 'Now there's a thing.' A plainclothes detective and three burly constables leapt from the vehicle and swept into the saloon bar. Driven at high speed, the car came through the red lights at the bottom of Haling Road, roared past them and screeched to a standstill a hundred yards further on, outside the Flying Swan. The words were drowned by the scream of a police-car siren. ![]() They looked at each other, dropped the newspaper and fled. The two men did not wait to see what might happen. At night a time for reverie about the crackling campfire, the sweet smell of mossy peat and pine needles. In harmony with the Arcadian Spirits of olden Earth. Birdsong swelling at dawn to fill the ears. Days in sylvan glades watching the sunshine dancing between the leaves and dazzling the eyes. An opportunity to get away from it all and commune with nature. The old nights under canvas, the wind in your hair and fresh air in your lungs. There are many pleasures to be had in camping out. 'Ow, ooh, get off, get off.' These imprecations were directed towards Jim Pooley, whose oversized boot had come snugly to rest beneath Omally's chin. Omally awoke with a start, something was pressing firmly into his throat and stopping his breath. 'I was just talking about that to Pooley,' said Neville, gesturing towards Jim's table.īut naught, however, remained to signal that either Jim Pooley or John Omally had ever been there, naught but for two half-consumed pints of Large going warm upon the table and a saloon-bar door which swung quietly to and fro upon its hinge. 'Where you have been for the last two days, in my bloody allotment shed.' Jim took one of these and rattled the letterbox in a perfect impression of a man dropping pennies into it. Norman's shop was closed for the half day and a few copies of the midweek Mercury still remained in the wire rack to the front door. 'We might simply make a clean breast of it,' said John. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |