A story featuring characters first introduced in the story : A Christmas Caper.
"Found anything yet?" Nials voice did what his body had refused to do and climbed the loft ladder, echoing eerily through the attics dusty recesses.
Stevies body remained where it was, but his voice marched to meet Nials, exclaiming irritably, "if you ask that one more time, Im going to scream! If Id found anything would I still be up here scuttling around like a mouse in a maze, and its bloody freezing up here?"
"I only asked," Nials voice sounded huffy, "Id be up there helping you look, if it wasnt for my vertigo."
"Vertigo my arse!"
Stevies voice sounded mildly sceptical to Nials sensitive ear, his other ear being of a more phlegmatic nature took no notice, even when the sceptical voice went on to say:
"Youre terrified the so called attic ghost will get you, youre such a scary fairy, youll believe anything!"
"Shut it Queen Mab, Im not scared, just slightly anxious," Nials voice defended its owners cowardice, "that bloke next door, the one that keeps getting in your dustbin, reckons all the attics along this row are plagued by some strange creature that prowls from house to house. He told me he hears it at night, it keeps him awake."
"Look, like Frank keeps telling you, the people who live in Hope House are very nice, but a few of them have some problems with reality." Stevie sighed, "and whatever strange creature he hears, it certainly isnt the Easter bunny, theres nothing up here, Im coming down." There was a woody clunk followed by a not so muffled series of curses as Stevie obviously struck his head on one of the low beams.
Nials grin quickly disappeared, the hair on the back of his neck rising, as the cursing was followed by blood chilling screams and crashing sounds that ricochet around the rafters.
"STEVE, STEVIE MATE, WHATS WRONG?" Nials feet planted themselves on the bottom rung of the ladder, but before they could ascend further a body hurled itself from the loft opening, slithering down the ladder almost knocking Nial off his feet.
"CLOSE IT NIAL, FOR GODS SAKE CLOSE THE LOFT DOOR BEFORE IT GETS OUT!" Steve, pale faced and wide eyed leapt for the stairs. "HURRY, PLEASE, DONT LET IT LOOSE!"
Nial, his heart thundering in his chest, hurled the ladder back up through the opening and grabbing the pole hook pulled the attic door closed with a bang. Following the lead that Stevie had taken seconds earlier, he galloped down the stairs three at a time skidding on the hall floor and into the kitchen where Stevie was leaning shakily against the kitchen table.
"What was it love," Nial guided the stricken figure down gently onto a chair, "what did you see, what the hell happened up there?"
Stevie put a tremulous hand to his chest, "I banged my head on one of the attic beams right?"
Nial nodded impatiently, "yeah, right, I heard that."
"It didnt half hurt, I closed my eyes and swore, to make it feel better, like you do, right?"
Nial nodded vigorously, "yeah, right, heard that too, good job Frank isnt home to hear it as well. Then what?"
"Then," Stevie shivered, giving a long pause and a look that Boris Karloff would have been proud of.
"Yes, yes," Nial fought off an urge to shake Steve until his brains scrambled, "THEN?"
"Then, when I opened my eyes again, I saw IT." Stevies hand moved from his own chest to clutch at his friends, his pupils dilating, "I saw it Nial, right in front of me, it touched my face....it actually TOUCHED me!"
Flesh crawling, Nial could take no more suspense. Grabbing Steve by the shoulders he shook him yelling, "GET A GRIP MAN, OUT WITH IT, TELL NIAL, WHAT WAS IT?"
Steve swallowed, taking a long juddering breath, "the BIGGEST _f_u_c_k_ing spider I have ever seen in my life, I must have dislodged it from the rafter when I nutted it. It came swinging down like an arachnid Tarzan on a line as thick as a vine rope, it swung right into my face and leered at me with all eight of its eyes."
"Spider," Nial stopped shaking him, "you saw a spider?"
Stevie nodded with due solemnity.
"Spider," repeated Nial, "you saw a spider?"
Stevie nodded again, even more solemnly.
"You saw a spider?"
Stevie abandoned solemnity and embraced irritation, "are you DEAF or what? Thats what Ive just said, several times........HEY, will you please stop shaking me like that, I could end up with brain damage. Ive already got a headache from thumping it on that rotten beam."
"You already are brain damaged you bloody great cretin." Nial stopped shaking and glared at Steve. "You terrified the living _s_h_i_t_ out of me. I thought youd been confronted by something from the depths of hell, not tickled by a frigging SPIDER!"
Stevie was insulted. "Not just any spider Nial, this was a monster, it was like one of those big buggers from that film Eight Legged Freaks, it nearly had me, I swear it was weighing me up as a meal."
"Idiot," Nial sat down abruptly, "carrying on like over a harmless little spider, and you call me a scary fairy. I wouldnt mind so much if youd actually found the goodies."
Steve sighed gloomily. "I bet our Easter Eggs are up on that rafter, I bet Frank and my dear cousin Emlyn bred that brute especially to guard them. They have to be up there, weve searched everywhere else. I must have chocolate soon, or Ill die. Ive been forty days and nights in a chocolate wilderness. I nearly mugged a toddler for his tube of Smarties this morning, Im close to cracking."
Nial appeared unsympathetic. "Serves you right for bragging to Father Tom that you were giving up chocolate for Lent, and for being daft enough to say it where Frank could hear you, and make you stick to it."
Steve suddenly brightened a little, "hey, seeing as spiders dont bother you, why dont you go and have another look in the attic, a fresh eye and all that?"
"No way," Nial shook his head adamantly, "not if that spider is as monster as you claim." He suddenly leaned across the table whispering conspiratorially, "I bet thats the creature that your neighbour raves on about, only no one believes the poor sod because hes a Hope Houser. What if it isnt really a spider, but a space alien like the one from that Fast Food horror story by Stephen King, the one about Ronald MacDonald the creepy clown who tempts kiddies away with Happy Meals and then eats them after they complain about the crap toy, storing some of them in his web larder. I still have nightmares about him, Ive never touched a chicken nugget since."
"You concern me sometimes Nial my boy," Steve rolled his eyes sadly, "you really do, your mind is sodding terrifying in the warped complexity of its thinking, its like a manic spin dryer on light speed hurling socks around and spitting them out in mismatched random chunks!"
Nial scowled, "youve been watching that Armchair Psychiatrist programme on daytime television again, havent you? You should phone in and ask Doctor Prick how to deal with irrational chocolate egg cravings and extreme cowardice in the face of small insects."
"It was humongous," snapped Steve crossly, "you didnt see it, and the mans name is Price, not Prick, and he talks a lot of sense."
"Which is more than you do!"
"Thats _f_u_c_k_ing rich coming from you. You make that lot next door seem...."Steve was cut short by the shrill ringing of the doorbell, followed closely by the phone. "What do you want to go for," he snapped, "phone or door?"
"Ill get the door," Nial rubbed his hands together hopefully, "it might be that pizza we ordered four days ago, the one that never arrived, I reckon the pizza delivery bloke scoffs more than he delivers, judging from the size of him anyway. Im starved seeing as you miserably failed to turn up any choccie chucky eggs." Grinning at the lavish V sign that Steve directed at him, he headed for the front door.
Steve picked up the phone, purring silkily into the mouthpiece, "hello, Stevie and Frank are currently shagging like spring bunnies on Viagra and cannot answer your.........oh hello Frank....no I dont always answer the phone like that....no, I wont do it again....how is Madam M.... yes Frank, Im shutting up and listening already."
"ASSUMPTA!"
Steve felt the blood drain from his face as Nials voice, heightened by a level of dismay that could have registered on the Richter scale, pronounced the dreaded name. He spoke glumly to the caller, "shes no longer on her way Frank, shes here."
Nial flushed as the cold faced woman on the doorstep made a sharp retort, "no, sorry, of course I dont intend to keep you standing outside, come in. Here let me take your suitcase."
Steve, already bloodless, now froze like a victim from a Dracula-On-Ice extravaganza, gripping the phone receiver so hard his knuckles cracked. "_f_u_c_k_ing hell," the expletive was no less affective for being whispered, and no less effectively disapproved of by the voice at the other end of the phone. "Im sorry Frank, but hes letting her in, with a suitcase, Nials letting her into our house, can you believe it, hes actually letting her INSIDE with a fu....flipping suitcase, is he completely mental, he knows what shes like? Yes Frank, Ill shut up and listen again.............."
After much listening Steve, while mentally cussing like a squaddie with tourettes, pasted a smile on his face, put the phone down and turned to face the apparition in the hall, who eyed him with all the enthusiasm of a vegetarian being offered the chance to slaughter a rabbit for a casserole.
"Youre still here I see."
"I live here Assumpta, where else would I be?"
The apparition, sniffing disdainfully, swept majestically into the sitting room the halted in mid-sweep, transfixed by the sight that met her eyes. "Look at this mess, when were you burgled, does Francis know, where is Francis, I expected him to be here to greet me?"
Steve flushed, hastily picking the seat cushions up from the floor, shoving them back on the couch, "we havent been burgled, I was just looking for something, and Frank didnt know you were coming. He and Emlyn have gone to the hospital to collect Ems aunt, she fell over her cat last week and cracked her knee, shes coming home today."
"Disgusting creatures cats, wouldnt have one in the house." Perching herself cautiously on the edge of the couch, as if afraid it was going to bite her bum, Assumpta examined the room with contempt. "General mess aside, whens the last time you vacuumed this carpet properly, if actually ever?"
Nial, despite his shoulders aching under the weight of the suitcase still clutched in his hands, couldnt help but admire her professionalism on the bitchery front. Shed barely been in the house for five minutes and she was already well ahead with the barbed comments.
"I hoovered only this morning as it happens," growled Steve through clenched teeth.
"He did," Nial loyally spoke in support of the claim, "I watched him, and I watched him wash up, and then I watched....." He stopped, suddenly aware that he was affirming himself as a bit of a lazy sod, a housework voyeur, watching as others did.
"Huh," Assumpta gave a snort that a bull would have been proud to own, "men have no idea how to clean properly. Its high time that Francis sought the services of a reliable housekeeper, either that or found himself a decent wife."
So, Nial stole an embarrassed glance at Stevies thunderous face, she was on that track again. Stepping behind the couch, ostensibly to set the suitcase down, he mouthed silently above her head, "just ignore the bitch." Then he noticed something that made his toes curl. Steves hasty flight, first down the loft ladder followed by two sets of stairs, had obviously left the zip on his skin tight jeans with a dilemma : whether or not to remain closed under the duress of rigorous lower body movement? He began contorting his face in the general area of Steves pelvis, hoping hed catch on before Assumptas eagle eyes spotted the zips decision.
Steve, assuming that Nial was simply expressing his opinion of Franks hideous sister, tried not to smile, then frowned as the facial contortings grew more frantic. Honestly, no one detested Assumpta more than he did, but there was no need to pull faces to that degree.
Nial, rolling his eyes in exasperation, gave up on the facial contorting and began gesturing with his forefinger on his chin in time honoured, supposedly discreet, schoolboy idiom for: oy mate, your zips open, shut it before the trouser python shows itself and scares the ladies.
Steve, beginning to feel irritated by the pantomime, mouthed, "what?"
"Egg, youve got egg on your chin," Nial reverted to the verbal schoolboy idiom for the same observation, but Steve had obviously gone to a school where such idiom was not in vogue.
He rubbed at his chin, the look of puzzlement and annoyance deepening. "I havent eaten any eggs today," he said snappily, "I dont like eggs, not unless theyre made of chocolate."
Assumpta clicked her tongue and cut straight to the chase. "Your half wit friend is trying to tell you that your flys are wide open you slovenly man, not surprising under that strain. Youll never father children wearing trousers as tight as that, it cuts off the circulation."
Blushing scarlet, Steve hastily zipped himself up.
An unfazed Assumpta began to feel down the side of the couch in search of implicating crumbs and sweet wrappers. A flicker of triumph crossed her face and with a flourish worthy of a detective in a B movie, she whipped a small blue packet out from the side of the couch, waving it incriminatingly in the air.
Behind the couch, Nial did a good impression of Edvard Munchs The Scream, mouth wide open, hands clamped to his face.
Steves face, less artistically inclined, but non the less novel, did a passable imitation of the Colour Purple. Hastily snatching the square of blue foil out of her hand, he muttered, "its just the salt packet out of a bag of Salt and Shake crisps."
Nice, Nial did a mental thumbs up at this quick thinking on his friends part.
Assumpta sniffed contemptuously. "You must think I came up The Clyde on a banana boat, I know a condom from a condiment, and Im surprised at Francis, I really am. I would have thought that he would respect a girls sanctity until they were at least married, still, modern morals aside, Im just glad that Francis has apparently, at long last, found himself a potential wife."
Steves temper suddenly erupted. "Thats just what youd like to think isnt it, ASSUMPTA LOVE, everything nice and "normal" according to your tight arsed standards anyway. Well, dream on, because Im Franks partner, his wife, whatever you want to call it, so go f....."
Nial hastily intervened, grabbing his friends elbow, "Im sure Assumpta would like a cup of tea Steve, come on, Ill help you make it." He quickly steered Steve into the kitchen, closing the door behind them.
"Bitch!" Steve slammed his fist against the table top, "trust her to turn up and spoil Easter Sunday, its like having Herod gate crash the Last Supper."
"Calm down for Gods sake," Nial reached for the kettle and began to fill it. "You never win a battle against her Steve, so play it cool. Frank will be back soon, let him handle her, its his sister, and you know he wont tolerate you sounding off at her."
"For _f_u_c_k_s sake Nial," Steve sat down heavily, "I still cant believe you let her in, and with a suitcase, I wonder how long shes planning on staying?"
"I could hardly slam the door in her face could I?" Nial hurled teabags into the pot, pouring on boiling water. Anyway, maybe shes just passing through on her way somewhere else."
"Huh," Steve pouted, "chance would be a fine thing. The word has gone out that shes stalking the land. Apparently, Franks brother Rob spotted her marching down the street towards his house when he was coming back from the pub, and flung himself under a hedge until she went away. He used his mobile to alert everybody else that she was on the prowl. The rest of the family will have packed up and gone on holiday by now. Frank and I will be lumbered with her, and Quentin I bet. I wonder where he is by the way, hes usually two or three paces behind her." He gave a grin, "you havent left the poor little down trodden sod standing on the door step have you, like an empty milk bottle?"
Nial laughed, "no, but judging from the weight of that case she brought, I reckon his body is inside it, shes probably done him in, either that or hes died of boredom, cant be much fun living with Attila the Nun."
They both jumped as Assumptas critical voice cut across their giggles. "I hope youre not letting that tea stew? I cannot tolerate stewed tea, and if you think for a moment that Im drinking anything from that vulgar mug, you can think again."
Nial hastily transferred milk from the Quentin Crisp, Naked Civil Servant memorial mug into a more appropriate vessel.
"So," Steve pushed the cup into her hands, "how is your own dear Quentin, and will he be joining you later?"
"He most CERTAINLY will not be joining me later, not unless he comes to his senses, something I very much doubt, even at this miraculous season." Turning on her heels she marched from the room.
Nial and Stevie pulled faces at each other.
"God," Steve slumped despondently against the table, hands over his ears as Songs Of Praise suddenly blared out from the sitting room. "I hope Frank gets back soon, Id like to kiss him goodbye before the will to live deserts me completely."
"Never mind," Nial grimaced as Assumptas vocal chords lashed themselves across the back of an Easter hymn, "at least youll get a break when you come over to our place for dinner this evening."
"Get a life Nial, do you seriously think that Frank or Emlyn, would leave a visitor languishing alone while we made merry across the road? Shell be invited to join us. Well have to curb our language, curb our drinking, curb everything in fact, and shell insist on saying grace before the meal, remember that time she came for Sunday dinner, and you and Em were here?"
Nials face didnt so much fall as plummet, he remembered alright. He and Steve had got into bother after fidgeting irritably throughout her holy oration, and for falling on the food like men possessed even before the final Amen had crossed her lips and finished sounding. "Oh God yes, how could I ever forget, and with it being Easter Sunday shell go on for hours, reading bits from that bible she lugs around in her bag. Well have to draw straws to see who gets to drown themselves in the gravy boat first."
....there is a green hill faraway outside a city wall....
"Not _f_u_c_k_ing far enough," banging the kitchen door closed on the holy caterwauling, Steve turned tortured eyes to Nial, "Id rather have Pontius Pilate as a house guest than her."
Nial tried to look on the bright side, "she despises me almost as much as she loathes you, so when she finds out that you and Frank are coming over to our place tonight, she might decide to leave early."
Steve reached for his cell phone, "yeah, and I might walk on water before turning it into wine. Im calling Frank, see if hes heard anymore about why shes here and when shes going."
Nial waited impatiently as Steve did the polite preliminaries, enquiring after aunt M, before launching into the real reason for his call.
"Frank says I have to be nice to her," Steve began relaying snips of his conversation.... "Quentin has apparently upset her badly, they argued."
Nials eyes grew round, "I didnt know Quentin had that level of courage, what did they argue about?"
Steves face clouded, "Frank says if Im not polite to her, then the chocolate eggs Ive probably turned the house over looking for, will remain hidden until Christmas."
"What did Quentin do to upset her." Nial felt it important to stay on track, "breathe too loudly, break wind without permission?"
"Emlyn said he heard that, and to tell you, dont be cheeky young man."
Nial watched with interest as Steves face began to show unmistakeable signs of mirth.
At the other end of the phone, Frank sighed, exchanging a look of long suffering with Emlyn, as an explosion of laughter, powerful enough to spilt atoms, blasted into his ear. He cut it short, "that will do young man, it isnt funny, not to her. She took complete offence, relations have been strained between them for a while. Ill be home shortly, try to behave in an appropriate manner until I do so, and dont do or say anything to upset her, or there WILL be trouble, is that clear?"
Steve ended the call with a sulky, "yes Frank, and yes Ill tell Nial."
"Tell me what?" demanded Nial as Steve put the phone back in his pocket.
"Emlyn said aunt M said to remind you to give Stan his lunch at two o clock sharp, any later and he gets overwrought."
Nial scowled, "I hate that rotten moggy, it trails me everywhere, and it snarls and just about rips my bastard leg off if Im not generous enough with the meaty chunks when Im feeding him. The bloody thing eats more than a Sumo wrestler."
"You fell over yourself offering to care for him when aunt M got admitted to hospital with her knee."
Nial flushed, "yeah, well I felt really sorry for her, and guilty, it was my fault she tripped over two ton Stan in the first place. How was I to know shed happen along as he was attempting to prise up the dead mouse Id super glued to the garden path to torment him with. Em wasnt too happy with me."
Steve smirked, "I thought you were being a bit chary about sitting down lately."
"So would you be with six lines of fire branded on your backside, anyway," Nial pouted, and turned swiftly away from a sore memory, "tell me why you were laughing, why did she argue with Quentin the Grey?"
Steves eyes lit up as he recounted the tale of domestic strife that had brought Assumpta to their door. "Apparently, he came home from work on Good Friday, noticed fluff on the third stair from the bottom and accused her of hoovering the stairs in a slap dash manner just so she could get to the Passion Mass before anyone else, to score points. She went ape _s_h_i_t_ and accused him of planting the fluff as he came in. She demanded a total confession and apology, which he refused to give. They spent yesterday in total silence and today she posted a note through Robs door saying that she couldnt go on living with a man who questioned her Mass motives, as well as her ability with a vacuum cleaner."
Steves renewed bout of merriment switched off as a sudden series of heavy thuds sounded from somewhere above, he turned a startled look on Nial, "what the hell was that, sounds like someone in the attic?"
Nial poked him playfully in the ribs, "probably just that thug of a spider galumphing about, dont worry about it."
They both dissolved into giggles again.
Assumpta materialised in the kitchen like a malevolent turtle, snapping, "your immature giggling is one thing, some men never grow up, but I will not tolerate you further demolishing my brothers home with your antics. What were you banging about at?"
This is as much my home as it Franks," growled Steve, his face flushing, "so Im entitled to bang as much as I want," he silently acknowledged that the latter was true only if Frank wasnt actually at home, "and anyway, we werent banging, if youd bothered to notice the sounds didnt come from in here. As for laughing, you ought to try it once in a while, it might take that look of permanent tight arsed constipation off your face."
"How DARE you speak to me like that," her eyes narrowed dangerously, "just wait until Francis gets back, I doubt hell appreciate your manner towards me."
Nial leapt in, "he didnt mean to be rude Assumpta, hes actually covering up the fact that hes scared. He wont like me telling you this, but one of the people next door told him the attics of these houses are haunted, so any weird noises really get to him, especially after watching House on Haunted Hill on the telly last night."
On cue a particularly loud thud sounded, making all three of the kitchen occupants jump with fright.
"Haunted house, what rubbish," Assumpta recovered herself, her voice heavy with scorn. "Probably your strange neighbours banging about. I told Francis buying a house next door to an asylum was a bad idea, hell never recoup what he spent. Im going to begin putting the sitting room straight, Ill not have Francis coming back to a pig sty, a man of order is my brother. You," her eyes rested coldly on Steve, "can make a start in here, Ill be in to supervise you properly in a moment." With that, she swept out, totally unaware of the four V signs that clicked up the moment she did so.
Nial patted Steves shoulder sympathetically, "I cant believe that woman is related to Frank, shes so horrible. Ill go home and feed that evil bastard cat, if I make it out alive, Ill come back and give you a hand tidying up." He glanced around the kitchen, guiltily noting all the open cupboards and doors, "I suppose we did leave a bit of a mess. Em will go barmy if he thinks I contributed to this."
Gathering up the tea mugs to wash, Steve took them to the sink, "hurry up then, dont leave me alone with Cousin It for too long."
Passing the hall table on his way towards the front door, Nial hesitated, then picked up the address book that lay next to the telephone.
"Your cutlery drawer is an utter disgrace - just look at it."
Steve stopped drying the cutlery in his hands to glare at Assumpta, who had finished the sitting room and was now bossing him about in his own kitchen. "What?"
"Your cutlery drawer is chaotic," she gestured imperiously into the open drawer, "an absolute mess."
"Look," he said, resisting a strong impulse to poke her in the eye with a fork, "theres more to life than keeping your cutlery drawer neat and tidy."
Assumpta sniffed, " I dont know how you expect to lay your hands on anything in that mess. You should have your forks on the left, followed by knives...." She burbled on, putting Steve straight on the correct layout for a cutlery drawer, then, with great ceremony and an air of long suffering, she proceeded to rearrange it. "There, thats how it should be done. Youll never amount to anything if you continue to be as sloppy and disorganised as this."
Steve wanted to tell her to fork off, but a memory of Frank, paddle in hand, surfaced from the last time hed given in to that particular urge. Instead, he smiled sweetly, saying, "youve brought order out of chaos, how can I ever thank you?"
It was a waste of good sarcasm. Assumpta had skin as thick as school custard and a cast iron belief in her own infallibility. "Just keep it as it is, that will be thanks enough. Im going to inspect upstairs now." She sailed off, exuding self satisfaction from every pore.
Sloping to the fridge, Steve extracted a can of beer and drained it in one. He was halfway through a second when Assumptas shrill tones demanded his presence on the first floor landing immediately.
Before he could obey the royal command, someone knocked briefly on the front door and opened it. "Oh please God," Steves hands came together in an attitude of prayer, "let that be Quentin come to apologise and beg her to return home." He hurried hopefully into the hall.
"Whats wrong with your face?" Nial stepped over the threshold.
"I was hoping you were someone else," Steve gave Nial a closer look, "you need talk about my face, yours looks likes a well smacked backside, whats up?"
"I cant find Stan anywhere, he wasnt hulking over his food bowl and he didnt come running when he heard me opening his tin of meat."
"I thought youd be pleased not to have to feed him?"
Nial collapsed onto the bottom stair, "I promised Madam M that Id look after him while she was in hospital, and now hes done a runner, rotten cat. Em will think Ive done him in again."
"Dont worry," Steve sat down next to Nial, offering him a swig from the can of beer still clasped in his hands. "You were a bit late, hes probably gone looking for his own lunch, hell be bringing down a Yorkshire Terrier to snack on even as we speak."
"IM WAITING YOUNG MAN."
Taking one more gulp of beer, Steve belched elegantly, shoved what was left into Nials hands and headed slowly upstairs with the air of a man going to the gallows.
Draining the can, Nial then headed for the kitchen where, with the precision of a homing pigeon, he located the fridge and the beers within it.
Assumpta was standing beside the open airing cupboard, her nose wrinkled, a look of tortured martyrdom on her face.
"Whats wrong now Ass?" Steve shortened her name in a way that he wouldnt have dared if Frank had been home.
"Look in here, its foul," she shuddered delicately, as if she had discovered a decaying corpse instead of a disarray of towels and sheets. "Get everything out, Ill instruct you in the proper method of organising a laundry cupboard shortly." Selecting a pair of sheets from the melee of linen, she carried them up to the guest bedroom on the third floor.
Steve, fighting murderous impulses inappropriate to the resurrectional and life affirming properties of Easter Sunday, shambled to the cupboard, obediently pulling everything out.
"Wheres Mother Superior?" Beer cans in hand, Nial made a timely appearance on the landing.
"Upstairs, making up the guest bed," Steve gloomily took the proffered drink. "Im telling you Nial mate, if Frank, or better still, Quentin, dont show soon, theres going to be more than clean laundry in this cupboard, cos Im going to kill her and stash her body in here."
"Id give up on Quentin," Nial glanced around furtively, "I thought Id do you a favour and try to contact him, maybe bribe him to apologise. I rang the number in your address book at least five times, theres no reply, wherever he is, he isnt at home." He took a long gulp of beer, then turned solemn, judgement day eyes on his friend. "I dont want to worry you Steve, but I think hes dead, done for, done away with, deceased, departed, gone, no more!"
"That beer has gone to your head, and youve been watching that Monty Python parrot sketch again havent you?" Steve took a refreshing gulp at his own beer, then shook his head sadly, "Im telling you Nial love, you need help to over come your addiction to these things."
Nial scowled, "at least I dont watch old episodes of Hectors House, so shut it, and listen, this is serious. Remember earlier, what she said when you asked if Quentin would be joining us?"
Steve shook his head vaguely.
"Think man, think," Nial swiftly ring pulled another can and thrust it into Stevies hands, "remember? She said he certainly wouldnt be joining us, not unless a miracle happened."
A few more gulps of beer seemed to have a positive affect on Stevies memory, his face cleared, "yes, thats right, and something about him not being able to come to his senses. What do you think she meant by that?"
"Youd never make a detective, what do you think she meant, that he was having a quiet snooze on the couch? Somehow, I dont think so." Nial began pacing the landing with what he fondly believed was a Sherlock Holmes stride, "its obvious, he cant come to his senses, not without a miracle that changes his name from Quentin to Lazarus, because hes dead, shes bashed his brains out in a frenzy."
"That couldnt have taken long, you cant be overloaded with too many of them to want to marry fish face in the first place," Stevie giggled beerily, then stopped as Assumpta suddenly appeared on the landing.
She marched to the top of the stairs, barking, "you, Neville, or whatever your name is, follow me, you can carry my suitcase upstairs, and be careful with it, I dont want it damaging. Bring those beer cans with you, I doubt that Francis would approve of you two wallowing in alcohol on Easter Sunday, and you," she turned a look she usually reserved for Methodists on Stevie, "get on with folding those things."
"Im telling you Stevie," wiping sweat from his brow, Nial made his way back down from the guest room, "theres definitely more than clothes in that case, it weighs a ton, and it feels weird, hard and lumpy."
"Sssh, shes coming down again." Stevie busied himself with the contents of the airing cupboard. With the help of Nial, and a ruler, he finally managed to fold a towel that met with Assumptas approval. Hovering impatiently on the landing, like the angel of death awaiting a lingering soul, she watched as they folded and then stacked everything neatly back into the cupboard.
Once the door was closed, she clicked her fingers peremptorily in Steves direction. "I want to store something in the attic, I take it theres some means of access?"
Steve blanched, the hackles that had arisen in response to being clicked at, quickly shrivelling in panic at her words, "yes, but Im not going up there, theres things up there, horrible things."
"Dont be absurd boy," she gave him a withering look, "I told you, those noises were due to your unbalanced neighbours inconsideration, more than to anything supernatural," she snorted, "ghosts do not worry me."
"Its not ghosts that worry him," muttered Nial, "they worry me, but not him, theres other things worry him, hed rather the thing that worried him was actually dead, maybe not a ghost, but at least dead, whereas....."
"BESIDES," she glared Nial to silence, "I only want to know the means of access, Ill take the item up myself. I dont trust either of you to do it."
After being handed the pole hook and instructed as how to pull down the internal loft ladder, she sent them away. "I have my afternoon Rosary prayers to do, I need peace and quiet."
Leaning across the kitchen table Nial took a mouthful of beer, then spoke.
Steve had no objection to the mouthful of beer, or to the speaking, but he would have preferred them to be separate actions. "You great BERK, swallow before you speak next time." He grumpily wiped beer from his eyes, "and yes, I think youre right," he took a swig of his own beer, "the old bat is acting suspiciously, shes trying to hide something."
"Or someone," Nial drank deeply, believing his own theory more with every mouthful. "Notice how she sent us away so she could pray. I reckon shes doing the funeral service over Quentins corpse to appease her guilt before hiding his body in your attic."
"_f_u_c_k_ing hell," Steve ran a trembling hand through his hair, "how do I tell Frank that his sister is a murderer, hell never believe me, hell think Im being cheeky and disrespectful, or drunk and hysterical, and with my luck, by the time I convince him to look in the loft that bloody great beast of a spider will have eaten the evidence" He finished his third can of beer and reached for a fourth, only to find that Nial had beaten him to it.
"Proof, thats what we need," Nial waved the can dramatically in the air. "We need to ascertain that Quentins body is in that case for a start."
"And how do we do that Miss Marple," Steve absently sucked at a few drops of beer that his t-shirt had cleverly caught as Nial waved the can, "pretend to be Custom officials and go upstairs and ask Assumpta if she has anything to declare?"
Nial thought for a moment, either that or he had indigestion, it was hard to tell sometimes. "One of us will have to lure her from her room, distract her while the other nips in the bedroom and checks out the body bag, I mean suitcase, before she has time to stash it away. I nominate you for that role, after all Quentin is more your relation than mine, so its only right you uncover his mutilated body."
"And just how do you plan to lure and distract the queen of the rosary beads? By having a blinding vision on the landing, a sudden conversion like Paul on the road to Damascus, or, as in your case, Nial on the road to being totally pissed."
Nial, getting rather unsteadily to his feet, thought he detected a slight note of sceptical sarcasm in Steves voice, but he replied with dignity, "Ill think of something as we go, and Ill have you know Im as sober as you are."
Her rosary prayers had obviously been the shortened version, two Hail Marys, a quick Our Father and Bobs your uncle, all done. By the time Nial and Steve crept onto the third floor landing, the loft was open, the ladder down, and scuffling noises and heavy breathing from above indicated that Assumpta had achieved her goal of lugging the case into the loft.
"Go on," whispered Nial, edging Steve towards the ladder, "see what shes doing, just a quick look."
"Why me," whispered Steve fiercely, digging his heels into the rug, "why not you?"
"I would, but my vertigo wont allow it."
"I thought Emlyn was your top, not this convenient mister vertigo."
"Ha, ha," Nial helpfully held the bottom of the ladder, "go on, theres nothing to be scared of, that spider will be long gone. One look from Assumpta will have sent it scuttling."
Stevie crept unsteadily up the ladder, peeping furtively into the murky depths.
Assumpta was at the far end of the roof room, just under the grimy skylight, trying to heave the suitcase on top of a stack of crates and boxes.
Something soft and tickly, suspiciously like a spider leg, suddenly brushed Stevies cheek and he let out an involuntary gasp, almost loosing his footing on the ladder.
Assumpta immediately swung round, the suitcase, not yet secure on its crate shelf, toppled, bursting open as it did so.
Steve forgot the spider, letting out a scream of horror as the dismembered trunk of a body, complete with obscenely flailing arm, still encased in the sleeve of a grey pullover, flopped out of the case onto the floor. Regardless of safety, he plunged from the top of the ladder, snatching up the pole hook, he shoved it back up, deftly pulling the loft door closed on Assumptas bellows of rage.
"ALMIGHTY JESUS! NIAL, ITS TRUE, SHES MURDERED QUENTIN, OH MY GOD, I JUST SAW SOME OF HIS BODY SPILL OUT OF THE CASE, CALL THE POLICE!"
Nial was already on his way, galloping breathlessly down the stairs and into the hall he snatched up the phone and dialled 999............. "FRANK!" He let the receiver drop onto the table as the front door opened, gabbling, "you got back just in time, hes dead, in the suitcase, like a ventriloquists dummy, hes really dead, Im phoning the police."
Frank blanched, but retained an air of outer calm. Taking Nial by the arms he gave him a small shake, "slow down, what are you talking about, whos dead, wheres Steven?"
"Im here," Steve, white faced and trembling, flew down the stairs and hurled himself into Franks arms. "Shes killed him Frank, I saw his dismembered body, shes hacked off his arm, she was trying to conceal it."
"It was me who suspected her of murder, Steve didnt believe me at first, but I was right."
"What on earth is going on in here, whats all the yelling about?" Emlyn, with aunt M hanging onto his arm, stepped into the babble and confusion of the hall.
"Its my poor, poor Frank, I have to break it to him," Steve burst into tears, "his sister is really Hannibal Lecter in drag."
"But dont worry, weve got her contained in the loft," Nial flung himself at Emlyn, "and were unharmed, though for a while I thought we might be her next victims."
Aunt M suddenly caught on that a fatality had seemingly occurred, "STANLEY, is it my Stanley thats been killed again?" She rounded furiously on Nial, "what have you done you bad, wicked boy," she began raining blows about his head and shoulders with her handbag, shrieking, "wheres my dear little Stan, where is he, you promised me youd look after him, not murder him in the loft."
Nial tried desperately to fend off the attack. "I havent touched Stan, honest aunt M, hes gone missing, but I promise I havent killed him......Help me Em, get her off, I think shes got a brick in her bag."
"ENOUGH!" roared Frank and Emlyn simultaneously.
Silence reigned at once, well almost.
"What service do you require....please answer....hello, hello....please respond."
After putting the receiver firmly back into its cradle, Frank folded his arms and said icily. "Now, what on earth is going on here, and where is my sister?"
Both Steve and Nial raised their eyes heavenwards as thuds and screeches sounded from above.
The cacophony of noise grew louder as Frank, closely followed by everyone else got closer to the source of it. "Its alright Assumpta, dont panic, Im here." Picking up the loft pole he pushed open the door and unhooked the ladder. Even before he could pull it fully down, something huge and black hurtled from the opening, closely followed by something huge and white.
"AIIEEEEEEEE, its coming for me," Stevie keeled over in a dead faint as the spider galloped across the landing towards him.
Madam M staggered puffing on to the third floor landing just in time to see Stanley, desperate for a snack due to his missed lunch, launch himself from the loft, and with a great bound, finally track down his quarry, and gulp it down.
"STAN DARLING!" She joined Stevie in keeling over as the oversized arachnid lodged in the overweight cats throat, choking him.
Nial, wide eyed with shock at seeing Stan shoot from the loft, went into even deeper shock as Assumpta alighted from the ceiling like an avenging angel. Snatching up the gagging cat, she performed the Heimlich manoeuvre on it, popping out the still wriggling spider like a cork from a gun. Nial gave up the will to remain upright, joining the two recumbent forms on the landing as she then proceeded to strangle it with her bare hands, his last words being, "I told you she was a cold blooded killer."
Taking out his handkerchief, Frank mopped his brow, "honestly, you go out for an hour and come home to utter chaos. Im telling you Emlyn, Gordon and Nathaniel next door live in saner circumstance than this."
Emlyn, busily putting bodies in the recovery position, except for the spiders, which was beyond simple first aid, and would have to rise to better things in the next world, nodded wholehearted agreement. He glanced up at Assumpta, "so, where exactly is Quentin?"
Frank held out his arms as his sister suddenly burst into a paroxysm of tears. "Oh Francis," she staggered into them, sobbing, "I was so angry with him. Its true, I had skimped on the hoovering just to get to Mass before that odious Mrs Carrion....I really didnt mean to hit him....but when I saw what hed done, I lost it....I didnt think it would turn out like this.... years weve been together, years and years, and now, now, its all over....I tried every means of resuscitation, I just couldnt bear to put it in a bin like some old rubbish, but I couldnt leave it in that house."
Frank swallowed, "its okay sis, its okay, well sort it out, lets just get Quentin out of the loft."
Assumptas tears ceased immediately, she stepped back and glared at the two men. "Why is everyone so obsessed with Quentin, and why on earth do you think hes in your loft? Sharing your house with that fool of a lodger is beginning to addle your brains Francis."
Frank spoke soothingly, "Steven is my partner Assumpta, not the lodger, now tell me, just what have you been trying to put in the loft?"
"You _f_u_c_k_ing moron!" Reaching a long arm under the bed, Stevie sourly extracted an Easter egg and began to unwrap it.
Nial gave up trying to find a comfortable way of sitting on the bed and following Steves example, lay full stretch on his stomach instead. His lower lip quivered, "it wasnt all my fault, and look on the bright side, at least we didnt have to sit and eat dinner over at my house with Franks praying mantis sister tonight."
Stevies head snapped to one side to glare at Nial, "bright side? The only bright side around here is my backside. I bet its glowing with more colour than the Aurora Borealis, and the only reason we didnt have to sit and eat dinner at your house is because neither of us CAN sit. I only hope your bottom is aching half as much as mine."
"My arse already had more stripes on it than a crossing of Zebras, it didnt appreciate Emlyns hand reminding it of the fact." Nial reached back to tentatively rub his tender bottom. "He didnt half smack me for what he called my non-thinking, over-dramatising, not helped by drinking too much, part in this sorry charade. I reckon his hand should be registered as a lethal weapon."
Steve spoke thickly through a mouthful of Cadbury crème egg, "you dont have to tell me, my buttocks are no strangers to my bossy cousins hand. The last time was when I hotwired his Porsche to take me and three mates to an Oasis gig in Brighton."
"Wasnt that just before you met Frank?" Nial eyed the swiftly disappearing chocolate egg with envy.
"It was when I actually met Frank....this is my favourite bit," Steve carefully licked the crème from the middle of an egg, then continued, "he gave Em a lift to bail me and his car out of the police pound. He stopped Em strangling me, said he had better ways of using his hands and to proceed as usual when he got me home."
Nial suddenly shot out his own hand, "give me a piece of that chocolate you greedy little sod, Ill share mine when Im allowed back home to retrieve them." He blissfully stuffed the chocolate into his mouth, "it was clever of Em and Frank to hide our eggs under our own beds, I never would have thought of looking there."
"Thats because youre a _f_u_c_k_ing moron who doesnt think at all," Steve leaned unforgivingly over the side of the bed, groping for another egg.
"Thats rich coming from you, at least I didnt think a bloody ancient old hoover was a dead body."
Steve savagely tore open a Smarties egg, "In that light, with my state of mind, and the amount Id drunk, it looked just like a dismembered arm when it fell out of the case. And anyway, it was you that convinced me that Assumpta was carting her husbands carcass around, instead of the Electrolux cylinder vacuum cleaner she won as a top domestic science student at school, in nineteen sixty three."
Nial had the grace to look abashed, "well, you shouldnt listen to me, Frank keeps telling you that. Why was she carrying a hoover around with her anyway, and why was she trying to hide it?"
"Well," Steve began sharing out the Smarties from the middle of the egg, selfishly keeping all the blue ones for himself, he had exams at the end of the month, hed need something to get him high. "After she stormed off to Church, Quentin apparently got out the hoover to redo the stairs, accidentally treading on the hose and puncturing it, causing it to lose suction. Assumpta apparently loved that hoover more than him, kept refusing to get a more modern upright one. He panicked and tried to fix it, using the sleeve of one of his pullovers to cover the hose and seal the hole. When he explained to her why her hoover was wearing part of his jumper, she went berserk and hit him with it, which made the hole worse......its not _f_u_c_k_ing funny Nial," Steve broke off as Nial broke down. "He stormed out to buy the dyson hes had his eye on for years and she packed up and came here. She could be here forever if Quentin finds that he prefers life with just the dyson."
Nial stopped laughing and scowled, "now you know how I feel, having to live with Stan all the time. At least Assumpta isnt likely to stalk you like that bloody thing does me. I nearly died when he shot out of that loft, he must have followed me over here this morning and skulked into the loft when I was on the loo."
"Never mind," Stevies natural optimism suddenly resurfaced as the chocolate hit the spot. "Like you said, we didnt have to sit through dinner with her and Stan, and we discovered the whereabouts of our Easter eggs, our backsides have short memories, and with a bit of luck, Frank and Em will fulfil their promise to track down a new hose for her beloved hoover, Quentins new Dyson will then short circuit, and hell come on bended knee to beg her to return with it. Things can only get better from now on."
As they pleasurably deliberated over the merits of a Milky Bar Buttons egg over the sinful delights of a Quality Street egg, the door opened and a dark shadow fell upon them. Fear struck deep within their hearts as a hand reached into the copious depths of a leather handbag, withdrawing a biblical tome of considerable size.
"Francis and Emlyn both agreed that you two missing the grace I said at dinner was a great shame, and that youd appreciate, and benefit from an extended repetition of it before you went to sleep tonight."
The dark figure glided across the room taking up residence in a rocking chair. A familiar white figure followed close on its heels and jumped onto its lap, growling threateningly as Nials hand reached for a fistful of white chocolate buttons with which to comfort himself, he hastily withdrew it.
Assumpta fixed her eyes firmly upon them and began to intone...."And Jesus said, I do not come to call the virtuous, but sinners....."
END ;-) ;-)