Archive for June, 2014

The Last Night part 2

June 27, 2014

The Nun in question was young and Oriental. She explained that her name was Sister Lotus and that she had been transferred to the Nuns of Gavarone – at a record fee – from a small Buddhist nunnery somewhere near Mygangmygang in Tibet.

Her eyes eternally watchful, she quietly told me that all was well; that Japonica would be cared for and maybe even cured. No more would the village of Prentis Hancock live under the curse of the Hotspurs, and we could now return to London.

I pointed out that leaving the damned place could be tricky, and that the locals were convinced that it was the Afterlife. Sister Lotus giggled, a pretty tinkling noise which belied her Ninja-like stance and clenched fists.

Apparently, Cousin Septimus when he had been the appointed mentor to the Nuns of Gavarone had suffered greatly during an attack on their convent by what she described as a Trojan Demon (She didn’t go into details, I’ll look it up later). He was so mentally shaken up that he was left a bit of a basket case. Believed himself to be dead as a doorknob and nothing could convince him otherwise. Prentis Hancock had long ago been established as a refuge for the elderly and confused, and it was a piece of cake to set up Cousin Septimus as the padre. He thought it was – literally – heaven, and frankly was as happy as a pig in shit – pardon my Swahili.

I asked about the problems getting in an out of the place. Spells? Elementals? Hypnosis? No, Sister Lotus explained, just the vagaries of English public transport. 

So we could just get in Frognall’s car and bugger off home? Yes, she replied.

I heaved a sigh of relief. I’d rather enjoyed my little adventure, but I was looking forward to getting back to the Smoke: my own bed and cranking out a few best-selling novels.

I wanted to probe Sister Lotus about the Nuns of Gavarone – but before I could draw breath, she had vanished into the night, as silently as she had arrived. But to where? Back to their convent? Or did they stay somewhere overnight e.g. a Travelodge?

I determined to myself I would rummage beneath those mysterious wimples and prise open their hidden secrets!

Advertisements

The Last Night

June 10, 2014

Slumber eluded me so I rose from my bed with the idea of making myself a hot toddy. I sleep au naturel so I quietly adorned my dressing gown as I had no wish to arouse Mrs Mann – in any sense of the word. As I passed the window I glanced idly  out of it, but before I left the room I had to retrace my steps and peer out into the darkness again. I could’ve sworn I saw something. Yes, there under the sycamore tree was a dark figure lurking in the shadows.

My first thought was that it was Japonica, escaped from her captors and out for revenge. Or perhaps her father – the dastardly Squire Max Hotspur – wasn’t killed after all, and he too sought reprisals.

I tightened the cord around my dressing gown,  glanced quickly in the mirror and smoothed down my still opulent head of hair, and set off downstairs. I grabbed the poker from the fireplace in the living room, and stealthily made my way into the back garden.

The apparition was still there, hovering in the darkness. No sooner had I stepped out into the garden, but the figure gestured to me that I should approach. I gripped the poker firmly and marched fearlessly towards the sycamore tree and whatever it was that awaited me.

I had barely traversed half the garden when I halted with shock. The figure was a nun!

To be continued…

 

Sir Desmond Stirling’s
THE DEVIL TALKS THE HINDMOST
Now available from Amazon UK
Amazon USA
An eBook for the Kindle from Head Music