Nicola Barker - Darkmans

Ah…

— still talking animatedly on his phone—‘I already told you the address, Kell,’ he said, ‘just keep ya bloomin’ wig on, will ya?’

Harvey strutted confidently down the garden path (oblivious to everything bar his conversation) but was soon obliged to interrupt his call as one tile — two tiles, three, four — began smashing on to the ground in a savage arc around him.

Kane peered up at the roof, shocked–

Dory?

Was that…?

Dory sat there, hands neatly clasped, smiling quietly, as before.

‘What the fuck ?!’ the builder exclaimed, leaping back, almost dropping his phone.

Kane saw Dory’s mouth move, in response, but he was unable to work out what the German was saying, so he took hold of the door handle, gently squeezed it, and pushed it open by a couple of sly inches.

‘You did that on purpose!’ the builder was bellowing. ‘That’s assault . I swear to God! I’m callin’ the police! You’re fuckin’ barkin’ , you are!’ ‘Isn’t it quite extraordinary,’ Dory chuckled, grinning down benignly at Harvey from his vantage point on the rooftop, ‘that on the very day I terminate your contract you finally get around to gracing us with a visit?’

‘You’re barkin’ !’ Harvey repeated. ‘Lester says you think I’m havin’ an affair with your missus…’

Kane’s eyes widened.

Dory stopped smiling. ‘Lester’s lying,’ he snapped.

‘Bollocks! ’ Harvey snarled, darting forward and placing a tentative hand on the scaffolding (as if half considering scrambling straight up it). ‘Lester wouldn’t lie. Not to me. Not about somethin’ like that.’

‘Take care, there,’ Dory warned him, ‘the scaffolding’s quite unstable. My builder’s a complete imbecile…’ He shrugged, regretfully. ‘That’s why I had to sack him.’

Harvey stepped back again, enraged. ‘I want my bloody money,’ he snarled. ‘I ain’t leavin’ here till I get it. You owe me six an’ a half grand — an’ that’s just for materials…’

‘Well you’re in for a very long wait, my friend,’ Dory grinned, removing three tiles from the roof behind him, tossing them into the air, and proceeding to juggle with them.

Kane’s jaw slackened, in awe, as he watched this artful performance from the car.

‘Well here’s the thing,’ Harvey hissed (refusing to be impressed), ‘either you fork up the first instalment, pronto , or I’m gonna double the overall amount by suing your tight, Kraut arse for wrongful dismissal.’

Dory gave this threat a few seconds’ consideration, and then, ‘ Arse ,’ he suddenly exclaimed, ‘accidentally’ dropping the first tile. ‘ Arsus… ’ he expanded, dropping the second, ‘ Arsio ,’ he chortled, dropping the third.

‘ Oi! Oi! ’ Harvey leapt back, startled, as the tiles rained down around him. ‘Are you off your bleedin’ head ?’

‘Ardēre ,’ Dory ran on, completely ignoring him.

‘To burn, ’ Kane murmured. Then he did a sharp double-take–

Eh?!

Dory clapped his hands together, delightedly, emitting a strange, high-pitched giggle.

‘What the fuck are you on ?’ Harvey demanded, plainly somewhat shaken by this extraordinary display. ‘Lester said you was a fruit-loop, an’ he weren’t far wrong, neither…’

Kane peered up at Dory, to gauge his reaction. He blinked. Dory suddenly seemed…uh… different . Tighter. More intense, more…more compressed , somehow.

‘While we’re on the subject of Lester,’ Dory observed sardonically, ‘and this fine relationship you both share, I don’t suppose he happened to mention that I’ve been subsidising his money each week, in private, just to bring it up to the level of a Minimum Wage?’

‘What?’

Harvey seemed thrown off his stride by this piece of information.

‘I’ve been subsidising his money,’ Dory repeated. ‘So how’d you fancy sharing that with an independent tribunal?’

‘But I pay the kid a small fortune,’ Harvey exclaimed, hurt.

‘The sad truth about Lester,’ Dory confided, ‘is that if he’d spent even a fraction of the time actually working that he spent telling tales on you, he could’ve single-handedly rebuilt our home by now…’ he paused. ‘Although that’s probably just wishful thinking on my part,’ he conceded, ‘your average five-year-old probably understands more about basic construction techniques than that Cabbage-head does.’

‘ BOLLOCKS! ’ Harvey exploded, leaping forward again, grabbing a hold of the scaffolding and shaking it, violently (as if the scaffolding was a pear tree and Dory the ripened fruit hanging tantalisingly in its boughs). ‘ MY SON AIN’T NO CABBAGE-HEAD! COME DOWN HERE AN’ SAY THAT ! I DARE YA!’

‘Your son ?!’

Now it was Dory’s turn to look astonished. Harvey took a quick step back, panicked, as the scaffolding shifted a mite more readily under his influence than he might’ve expected it to.

‘But you never said he was your son… ’ Dory babbled.

‘Well I never said he weren’t , neither,’ Harvey shrugged. And then — seconds later—‘ Ha! ’ he chortled. ‘Seems like that sneaky, little twat’s been havin’ the best of both of us!’

A proud grin slowly enveloped his face. ‘Lester Broad !’ he cackled. ‘Who’d’ve thought the little turd had it in ‘im, eh?’

Dory didn’t respond, he simply reached into his back pocket, withdrew something, unfolded it, and stared at it, morosely.

‘What’s that?’ Harvey asked, his mood quite restored.

Dory held up the Missing Dog poster. ‘Recognise this, by any chance?’ he asked.

Harvey barely even glanced at it.

‘Nope.’

‘Well have another look,’ Dory suggested.

Harvey squinted up into the grey sky. ‘It’s gonna rain,’ he sniffed, wincing as a stray drop landed on the pristine fabric of his puffer jacket. ‘You must be freezin’ your bags off up there. Why don’t you come down an’ we’ll deal with this situation like two proper gents , eh?’

‘This is a picture of Michelle,’ Dory said, still holding up the poster, refusing to be railroaded.

‘Who? ’

Harvey dusted the raindrop from his jacket.

‘This is Michelle,’ Dory repeated. ‘This is a photograph of our spaniel, Michelle.’

‘ Yeah? ’ Harvey rolled his eyes, indulgently. ‘ Aw …How cute .’

‘Although she isn’t actually our spaniel,’ Dory expanded, ‘as I’m sure you already know.’

‘You’re off your rocker, mate,’ Harvey scoffed.

‘She’s actually…’ Dory peered down at the poster, ‘according to the information printed here — she’s actually the property of a Mr Garry Spivey.’

Harvey stiffened at the mere mention of his rival’s name. ‘ Who? ’ (This was more of a challenge than an enquiry.)

‘A Priori,’ Dory leaned forward, with a grin (taking up the challenge, quite happily). ‘First in the book, apparently.’

‘If you must know,’ Harvey suddenly blustered, ‘I didn’t try it on with your wife — she ain’t really my type —but that sure as hell didn’t stop her from tryin’ it on wiv me , though. Keen as mustard , she was…’

Huh?!

Kane’s grip tightened on the door handle.

‘It took quite a while, I admit,’ Dory continued, perfectly unflustered, ‘but then I suddenly remembered… ’