25 October 2025

 

Happy cold weekend, readers.  Although it might be warm and toasty where you are.

 

I don't have another chapter of A Jolly Holiday in the Pacific Ocean for you today.  Partly because my computer says No.  It'll only give me access to part of it, which I have already posted on here.  But anyway, it's Hallowe'en this week, so I thought it would be fun to have something different.

Ergo, below is a silly tale I have entitled A Silly Hallowe'en Tale.  I'm nothing if not imaginative, eh?

I know people have been visiting this site, but the number has decreased.  I'd be super delighted if you'd let me know what you like to read, if anything of course.  And also why I've been getting nothing back.  That's fine, if you don't want to post any of your work here, I just thought others might like to put their art to the test of an audience.  But if you want to send anything, or to comment, or request, or tell a joke, use the info@judymcdowellswords.co.uk address.

Make sure you keep a copy of what you send, along with your sent email, and you can prove you are the original author, if that has been worrying you.

Meanwhile, I have been nearing the end of the first draft of the fifth book in the Investigators series.  It's taken me longer this time due to, well, life.  Lots of editing and getting critiques to go after it's finished, but I hope it won't take too long into the new year to complete.

After that I may try something different, but I'll see how the mood takes me.  😁

 

So for now, snuggle up and have a read of...

A Silly Hallowe'en Tale

 

HALLOWE’EN HOUSE

 

The house looked forlorn, with ivy growing over its grubby limestone bricks and into the gutter.  The garden was no doubt a haven for wildlife, with trees and bushes and overgrown grass and weeds.

But the path to the black front door was visible, and the rotting wooden gate hung open on its rusted hinges.  A lamp glowed orange over the doorstep, casting shadows of cobwebs.

“Go on.  You’re the oldest.”  Sarah pushed Tim forward.

“Yeah, but there’s two of you.”

Sarah and Emma were twins, so yes, there were two of them.  But they wouldn’t be brave enough to go and knock on that door without their brother.

“Go on,” urged Emma.  “You’re older and you’re a boy.  If an old witch lives there, you’ll be stronger to cope with her.”

“Not against magic, I won’t”

“Magic’s not real.  It’s just tricks.  Grandpa said.”

“Then why don’t you go first, Emma?”

“Because I’m only little.  I’ll be smaller than the witch, and she’ll push me over.  And it always hurts more when it’s cold.”

“Didn’t you wear thick clothes under your bin liner dress and cloak?” asked Sarah, who was similarly dressed, complete with pointy black hat.

“I put a jumper under my dress, but I’ve only got black tights on my legs.”

“No wonder you’re cold.  I’ve got jeans, two jumpers and a coat under mine.”

“Well, perhaps Sarah should go first.  If the witch knocks her over, she’ll be padded, and it won’t hurt.”  Tim laughed at his sister, who looked fat with her layers of clothing.

“No.  I’m scared.  Please Tim.  You go first.”

“We could always leave it and carry on up the road to the normal houses.”  Tim tried not to let his own fear show as he looked at the rest of the street, with its terraced houses with tiny gardens, all well-lit and not at all creepy.  His friend Jack lived in one, and the twins had friends in a couple of the others.

“No, we can’t wimp out now,” said Emma.  “We’ll never hear the end of it from the Jarvis brothers.”

“And they said they’d give us some of their sweets if we did it.”  Sarah was looking wide-eyed up at her brother.  She didn’t want to be laughed at, and the more sweets the better.

Tim straightened his back and shoulders, trying to look as tall as possible.  He was a big brother after all.  His dad reminded him sometimes.  And he even helped his dad out mending things.  That was not little girls’ work.

Turning his face to look straight up that garden path, he said, “I bet witches aren’t true and there’s just a kind little old lady in there who’ll be pleased to see us and give us sweets, or home-made cake even.”

And on trembling legs he marched up to the door.

Amid a rustling of plastic capes, Sarah and Emma followed.

Trying to ignore his shakes, Tim rapped on the door.  The orange light above him felt comforting.  If it had been darker, he knew he would have run away, if he’d got this far in the first place.

He heard normal house sounds from within.  Something being put down in the kitchen, a door opening with a creak no worse than the one their shed made.

Emma screamed.

Sarah’s reply was almost as shrill.  “What?”

“Something tickled against my leg.”  Emma was already looking down to see what had touched her, clinging to her sister’s arm.

Bending down with a hand out, Sarah wagged the index finger.  “It’s only a cat.  Look how pretty it is.  Come here.  You’re gorgeous.”

With her heart thumping noisily in her ears, Emma bent down too.  She copied Sarah’s cat luring pose with her own hand.  “Ahh, he’s beautiful.”

The calming effect of the cat’s presence was shaken when the front door started to open.

Tim felt a cold shiver run down his spine.  In his head he told himself, “It’s just a lady.  A human.  Witches aren’t real.  Don’t run away.”

The door seemed stiff to open, judging by how slowly it moved.  But at last a white-haired old lady appeared, not even as tall as Tim.  He sighed.  She was smiling at him.

“Yes?”

“T-trick or treat?”

The girls stood, holding out their paper bags with jack o’ lanterns drawn on them round either side of their brother.

“Oh, bless you, children.  Not many people have come to ask me tonight.  Step inside and I’ll push the door to.  You must be cold out there, and I don’t want to let the warmth out.”

The lady bustled off through a door ahead, past the side of the stairs.

“Well done, Tim,” squealed Sarah, grinning widely showing small white teeth with a gap at the front.

“I wonder what she’s going to give us.”  Emma was wide-eyed with excited anticipation.

“I think it’ll be cakes,” said Tim.  “She looks the sort to do baking.”

Beaming, the children stood still, gazing at the shut door the lady had entered.

The sound of a bolt crossing on the front door made them jump.  The second bolt made Emma scream.

Tim’s knees were knocking and his stomach churned.  But he was a big brother.  “Don’t worry.  She said she didn’t want her house to get cold.” 

“But how did the door bolt itself?” Sarah asked through chattering teeth.

Both girls grabbed one of Tim’s arms each and held it close.  Their need of him helped keep his fear under control.  He thought of his dad.  He’d said to look after them, and that’s what he must do.  Besides, the woman would be back soon.

Although he couldn’t hear her.

He reminded himself it was a big house.  There had been windows either side of the front door.  She’d probably gone through into another room.  Perhaps she’d bought some big selection boxes of chocolates and sweets, like people gave at Christmas.  Or she was counting out some money...

Tim felt a tugging on his right arm.  It was Emma.  She whispered, “Where’s the lady gone?”

On his left, Sarah pulled his arm round to his front as she moved to look up at him.  “Is she a witch?”

Tim’s heart was racing and his body quivered.  “Perhaps we’d better go.”

As he turned round, with two girls still clinging to him, Emma asked, “Will we be able to get out?”

“The door’s bolted, Tim.”

“The bolts are on the inside.  We can open them.”

But they couldn’t.  No matter how hard they tried.

Before Tim gave up, his sisters had started to cry.  “Help me,” he implored them.

With Sarah pulling the top bolt with him, and Emma, having no room for her hands to help, putting all her strength into trying to move the lower bolt, the crying was as much from frustration as fear.

Tim switched to trying to unlock the door from further down.  But neither bolt was giving way.

“We have to go out another way,” hissed Sarah.

“Alright.”  He looked around the hallway.  “The woman went through that way.  Let’s try the door on the left.”

“I want to go home,” cried Emma, but keeping her voice low.

“We all do.  Now, hang on to my cloak.  Walk quietly but carefully.  Don’t knock anything over, okay?”

The knob on the door to the left was round.  Tim put his hand on it.  He felt like his legs wouldn’t hold him, and there was a scream pushing to get out of his chest.

Tightening his grip, he turned the knob clockwise.  He felt it free the door.  “Okay.  It’s not locked.  Quiet as we can…”

He slowly opened the door.  It creaked a little, but he didn’t think the lady would hear it.  She looked old enough that her ears wouldn’t work very well.

With the girls tight side by side behind him, little hands holding the black cloak of his vampire outfit, the three shuffled forward until Tim could peer round the door.

His stomach clenched as chills again ran up and down his spine.

The room looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.  Deep cobwebs clung to the ceiling and walls in the corners, and from the unshaded lightbulb in the middle of the room, drooping down, sticking to each other, so the whole ceiling held one giant web.

Large black spiders hunched in various parts of it, their leg joints up above their fat bodies.  One was rubbing its front legs together, revealing how long they were.

“Just follow me, girls.  We’ll be alright.”

“Why are there so many spiders’ webs, Tim?” whispered Emma.

“I don’t like the spiders.”  Sarah’s voice wavered as fear caught her throat and stopped her breath flowing easily.

“The lady’s not a very clean person.  Cobwebs always get on the ceiling if you don’t sweep it from time to time.”

Leading towards the back of the house was another internal door.  “Follow me.  We’ll go through there.  The lady must have gone through to a room over the other side.”

A sudden loud howl the other side of the door made them all cry out, but their cries were muted through lack of air in their tight chests.

Tim spun round and grasped his sisters.  “Back the other way.”

In a tight hunch they rushed across the messy room, trying not to look at the spiders in the webs above.

The sound of a key in the hall door was a heavy metallic clunk.

Tim was sure there had been no key before.

They stumbled further, moving as one towards the door, although with no confidence they’d be able to get out through it.

The door, and the wall to which it was attached, began to move slowly but surely towards them.

Tim spun his gaze in all directions.  The room was closing in on them.

A spider lowered itself on a dusty thick white thread to Tim’s head.

The girls screamed and brought their capes up over their hair, as best they could.  But Emma hadn’t succeeded well enough to stop another spider landing on her hat and crawling under its brim, staring into her two eyes with its many.

As the walls continued to move and shrink the room, there was less space for the spiders.

The children were covered with them and their webs, which wrapped ever more around them.

They screamed.  Until the webs caught in their throats.

 

***

 

It was twelve years later.  Tim, Sarah and Emma’s parents had been devastated at the loss of their children and were eventually locked in an asylum still asking where they had gone.

Outside a dirty limestone house with an overgrown garden and a black door, two teenage boys held little boxes they’d decorated themselves with pictures of spiders and witches.

“Witches aren’t real.  Go on, I dare you.  Look, there’s a light on over the front door, so someone’s in.”

“You go first and I’ll come with you.”

One boy had an old sheet over his head with eyeholes, an easy ghost costume for Hallowe’en.

The other had drawn teeth and blood at the corners of his mouth and had on a black bin liner as a cloak.  “OK.  We’ll go side by side, but you can do the talking.”

The ghost laughed.  “It’ll cost you one of your sweets.”

“You’re on.”

As it turned out, the ghost was slightly ahead as the vampire hung back, but they kept going.

The ghost banged hard on the door.  Inside his old sheet he licked his dry lips and coughed to bring moisture into his throat.

The vampire jumped round him and bashed hard on the door, then retreated behind his friend again.

Bolts could be heard being drawn back the other side of the door.

Having been brought up well, the ghost and the vampire straightened their backs, standing to attention.

The door opened slowly with a staccato creak.

In the dim light of a hall stood a short elderly woman, her grey hair tied in a bun.  “Yes?”

The ghost’s voice nearly failed him, but somehow he managed to croak, “Trick or treat?”

“Trick or treat,” the vampire echoed behind him.

The old lady gave a little chuckle.  “Bless you.  Not many people come to my house.  Come in.  Don’t stay out there in the cold.”

On legs that they wish felt stronger, the two boys stepped over the threshold.

The woman shut the door behind them.  “Just wait there and I’ll fetch something for you.”

She disappeared through a door ahead of them.

And they waited.

And waited.

“Where’s the woman gone?” whispered the vampire.

“I dunno.  Maybe she’s a witch after all and she’s vanished.”

As the ghost laughed, bolts were heard going home across the door behind them.

The vampire gasped.

The ghost spun round to look.  Underneath his sheet he said some very rude words.

They didn’t know it but the icy fingers that crept through their insides were identical.

“What are we going to do?” hissed the vampire.

Wishing he’d put on far more layers of clothing under the sheet, the ghost looked round.  “Let’s see what’s through that door.”

With hands trembling, he grasped the knob on the door to their left.  Taking a deep breath her turned it and felt it give.

Slowly he eased it open.

“Oh my god,” said the vampire.  “What a horrible filthy room.”

They could both see a medium-sized room with some grubby furniture; but the worst part was the number of cobwebs hanging down, and the size of the spiders in them.

“We’ll have to go through it.  Look, there’s another door at the other end.  It should lead us to the back of the house.”

“And a back door, hopefully.”

Clinging to each other they wound their way across the cluttered room, keeping their heads low to avoid the webs and the spiders.

They reached the door with thumping hearts and uneasy breaths.

The ghost reached out his hand to the doorknob, and a bloodcurdling howl came from behind it, filling them with an icy chill.

They turned to go back the way they came, clinging to each other tighter than before.

They froze when they heard a human voice.  Small, but close.

“You won’t escape.”

“Who said that?” breathed the terrified ghost.

“I…  I…  I don’t…”

“Up here,” said the voice.

The teenage trick-or-treaters look slowly up.

Hunched near the single light bulb in the middle of the room were three tiny people, surrounded by huge spiders.  A young man dressed as a vampire, and two teenage girls dressed as witches.

“Who are you?”

“What are you doing up there?”

“Why are you so small?”

The vampiric young man said “We came here trick-or-treating twelve years ago.  The front door bolted behind us.”

“We tried to get out the back way,” said one of the miniature witches.

“The walls closed in on us…” said the other, her gaze switching to the wall adjacent to the hall.

With some quiet humming and creaking, the wall began to move towards the new visitors.

“Help!” cried the tallest vampire in the room.  “What do we do?”

“Grab a piece of web and climb up,” the tiny vampire said.

 

***

 

Another twelve years passed.

A thirteen-year-old girl helped her nine-year-old brother and seven-year-old sister to go trick-or-treating.

In due course they joined the other young adults living on the ceiling with the spiders and their enormous webs, that had grown in volume over the years.

Time passed.  They all became accustomed to living on flies and other small insects that got caught in the webs.

After a year or two, Sarah, whose plastic costume was showing signs of disintegration, sighed heavily enough to make the nearest stands of web sway with her outward breath.  “I’m fed up.  Aren’t we ever going to get out of here?”

“I for one am pissed off.”

“Tim, I’ve never heard you swear before!” said Emma.

“Well, I was only twelve when we came here.  And you two were so young I never swore in front of you.”

The boy still dressed as a tiny ghost used some more profane words to express his displeasure.  “We have to come up with a way to escape.  Now we’re so tiny, can’t we just creep out under the doors, or up a chimney or something.”

Words of agreement passed among the eight humans.

“Oi!  Stop wobbling the nest or we’ll eat yer,” growled a bad tempered spider.

“You don’t like the taste of human, or plastic.  That’s why we’re still here,” said Tim.

“Then why don’t you spin your own thread down to the ground and clear off?”

“Humans can’t spin threads.”

“Oh, for fly’s sake.  Use one of ours.  Just give us some peace.”

The tiny humans moved around trying to find a suitable piece of web to use, and at last found one.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before,” said Sarah.

It was hard hanging on, especially for the youngest boy and girl, but they managed to abseil down to the floor, sinking into the blanket of dust that covered the ground.

However, by the time they reached it, they had grown to their proper size again, which was bigger than when they had arrived, causing Emma to regret only putting on a jumper and a pair of black tights under her bin liner outfit even more.

The ghost stood with his hands on his hips, which meant his sheet costume was now just above his knees.  “I’m not staying.  Which way do you want to go out.  The way we came in, or through that door with the howling monster?”

They took a vote and decided to try the front door first.

As they grappled with the bolts that barred their way to freedom, the door behind them, through which they’d all seen a little, grey-haired old lady disappear, flew open.

Five little old ladies ran out into the hall, the last one slamming the door behind them; the others leaning against it with her.

“Get the door open, youngsters!  We’ve been kept in here for years and years.”

“I thought you trapped us,” said Tim, astonished.

“So did I,” said three pretend witches.

“No time to explain.  We have to get that door open.”

So eight trick-or-treaters and five little old grey-haired ladies, pulled at the bolts, and finally they had them pulled back.

The ghost flung open the door to the sound of a high-pitched creak.

Only then did they hear the shouts of the people outside.

“Run!”

“Hold on to me”

“Daddy, carry me!”

They were running along the road, which by now was unrecognisable to Sarah, Emma and Tim, to their left.

To their right stalked fighting machines on three legs each, with wisps of black smoke puffing out behind them.  Beneath them tentacles.

 

 

 

 

18 October, 2025

 

What a day!  All rush, rush, rush.

But I've added a new chapter of A Jolly Holiday in the South Pacific.  Chapter 13 - lucky for some.

Catchyer later!

 

 

 

11 October, 2025

 

After last week's fiasco of losing nearly all the words from this section, I put back the riveting tale known as A Jolly Holiday in the South Pacific in a normal order.

So today I've added Chapter 12, all brand new and shiny, to the end.  I expect it's easier to read that way.

Now, I know this website is still quite embryonic in terms of websites, but we haven't had any contributions from other people yet.  I expect you're thinking, well, my work will look dreadful compared to hers (ha ha), or you might be afraid of showing me up by your own brilliance, but go for it.  Let's get the ball rolling.

You don't have to send clever words, poems that rhyme, or the latest, most twisty turny plot.  Anything will do.  Even a comment on the football, or what you've been growing in your garden, or would grow if you had a garden.

How about a joke?  I understand some people can remember ones they've heard before.  And some people make them up!  Normally, I grab them off the internet because I have the memory of a pebble, but sometimes I make them up.  Those are the ones that are not funny, except in the sense of peculiar.

Or maybe you could tell us your favourite word, or the word you find the most annoying, or difficult to say or spell.

I can't spell discreetly without getting it checked by whatever AI spell-checker is operating when I write.

And for some reason, I get the words 'shopping' and 'washing' mixed up when I speak.  I don't say things like, "Hang on, I'm just shopping my hair", or "I need you to pop out washing this afternoon".  It's when the words are used as nouns, I think. Like, "Oh gosh, I forgot to do the shopping" instead of washing.  Weird, huh?  If you can work out why, I'd love to know.  I suppose it's due to some bad wiring in my brain.

I also can't get my sister's and my daughter's names right.  They'll just have to put up with being called one of two names.  I don't call them any old name, just each other's.  Most of the time.  I like to think of it as a fun little guessing game for them, or anyone else I'm talking to about them.  Who wants to be normal?

 

Well, I have to go and clean a windowsill now.  I'm sure you're thrilled to learn that.  The thing is, I tend to fill windowsills with plants, and leaves drop off, and I overwater them and dissolved (or suspended) mud trickles down, and dust piles up.  If I had empty windowsills, they'd be easier to clean, but I don't think they'd be so nice to look at.  And anyway, I like to do my bit for the environment.  I wonder if when the doors are shut, certain rooms really have a detectably higher proportion of oxygen, and less carbon dioxide.  My favourite room has the most plants.  But it also has me, the tortoise and often the dog.  So maybe the oxygen : carbon dioxide ratios end up the same as a room empty of life forms.  Something to think about while waiting for the adverts to end in the middle of an interesting video on YouTube.

 

 

 

 

5 October, 2025

 

Something silly I posted yesterday, before the gremlins decided to cleanse my site!!

 

Words are made up of letters, which make up the alphabet.  So I had a game with alphabetical letters!

D’you want to have a try, then post them here?

 

A’s alright as an alphabet affiliate

But B’s better because bees buzz beautifully

C comes close curiously

D doesn’t do dark deeds

E extends enthusiastic enjoyment

 

F flows fabulously forward

G gets gorgeous giddying gongs going

H has happy hegemony

I is initially idiotic

J justifies jolly jelly jamborees

K keenly kicks kidnapping kangaroos

L lays languidly learning lavish letter lessons

M moans mysteriously

N never needs nursing

O openly orates odes only on oxen

 

P playfully pats plentiful pets

Q quietly questions quirky quotations

R relishes reading rants

S summons silly sailors

T truly touches tiny toes triumphantly

 

U underestimates useful urchins

V variedly votes vested victims

W won’t want weary words

X x-rays xenophobic xylophonists

Y yodels youthful yellow yetis yearly

Zzzzzzzzz

 

Plus something stolen from a book*:

Double negatives are a complete NO-NO

Proper punctuation can make the difference between a sentence that's well written, and a sentence that's, well, written.

 

*"P{uns: The Highest Form of Humor" - collected and collated by James E Taulman

 

 

4 October, 2025

 

Hi Reader, Writer here.

I tried to add an image, and somehow lost everything I'd put on my Bloggy Words section, including the latest episode of A Jolly Holliday in the South Pacific, except "Odd things English people say", as below.

No idea how it went, or where it went, or why  (sob).

I might be able to put back the story, in its proper order...

Please excuse layout oddities.  I'm going to run away now!

Back tomorrow.

 

A Jolly Holiday in the South Pacific

 

CHAPTER 1

 

I think all our group were there, standing around in a tight circle, people pushing from the back trying to get a better view.  Well, Agnes was nearer the hotel building, her skinny limbs folded so tight in on herself she looked like a crying totem pole.

The Manager, Gerald, strode over calling, “Stand back.  Stand back.”

Reluctantly people pushed outwards.

Gerald was just about 5’6” tall but almost as wide across the shoulders.  He forced his way through and arrived at the front to see what we were all staring at.  He scratched his bald pate above its ring of greying hair, his face crumpled up.  “Moosh!  Moosh!”  He tried to shoo away the sheep, sweeping his hands forward rhythmically.

“There’s someone on the ground.  The sheep are licking them.”  A narrow woman with her head higher than the rest of us explained what she could see from her vantage point.

“Eating them, more like,” said Mark, whom I’d been introduced to getting onto the coach at the airport in Ovina City, capital of the Ovine Islands.  I was stuck next to him as we travelled to the south-east of the island, and then via ferry to Little Ovina.  The coach took us round the coast to the east side, from where we travelled in a large dinghy to Flock Island.  Then it was on foot up a moderate rocky incline to the only hotel on the island.

“’Ere, Mark,” said Gerald.  “Don’t just stand there making funny comments, help me move these sheep.”  He moved round to the front of one of them and started to push it backwards.

“Come on, you lot,” called Mark.  “Get shoving.”  He copied the way Gerald manhandled his sheep.

I stepped back.  I didn’t fancy doing that and tried to play the weak little woman, hoping others would sort the sheep.  I preferred to watch.

Apart from Astrid, who was tall and muscular, it was the men who got these wild sheep away and revealed what they’d been so attracted to.

Many a gasp greeted the sight, but I’m afraid something in me made me giggle.  Perhaps it was a nervous giggle.

The tall woman, Salena, who’d enjoyed the early view of a person being on the ground among the sheep, now loped away with her hands covering her face, sobbing.

“Bloody hell, I was right,” said Mark, his right palm holding his thick dark hair away from his forehead.  “They were eating her.”

On the ground, covered in mud, grass, sheep saliva and blood lay one of our group, Ursula.  It was possible she was still alive, technically speaking, but she didn’t look it with her breastbone and intestines open to the air, and her neck and limbs at unusual angles.

In a similar way he had tried to herd the sheep away from their entertainment on the ground, Gerald the Manager waved his arms at us and encouraged us to go back into the hotel.  Mark helped him.

Some of us were reluctant to leave.  It was like our eyes demanded we stop and stare.  But eventually we made our way inside and into the bar.

Astrid took charge, by which I mean she went behind the bar and poured herself a large brandy, downed it in one, then asked what the rest of us wanted.  Loretta helped her, after herself having a large whisky.

I didn’t know what to make of Loretta by then.  She had long wavy blonde hair, but there her femininity stopped.  So far I’d only seen her in combat trousers and an army green jumper with fabric patches at the shoulders and elbows.  I tried humour on her and asked for a Manhattan, but she gave me a withering look in response.  I had a glass of cider.

 

This episode had started in the middle of the night, maybe around one o’clock.  We all went out to see what the sheep noises (with some human screaming) were about.  At least, that’s what disturbed the first of us, and we woke the rest clattering about and shouting to one another.

The phone signal on Flock Island is intermittent and weak when you find a spot where there is one.  The hotel had the one internet connection run under the sea from Ovina to this smaller island.  Gerald contacted the police via email. Yes, I know.  Hardly rapid response.

Nobody was quite sure what to do with poor dead Ursula while we waited for the police to get back to us.  For the time being, two men, friends, were keeping guard over her, repelling the sheep and flies and whatever else there might be out there.  Most of what we knew to do we’d seen on TV or in the movies.

“What about preserving the crime scene, if death by sheep could be considered a crime?”  This question came from the athletic looking blue eyed blond, Clive.  He struck me as resembling a member of the Hitler Youth

 Mark was quite sure we should put her in a freezer.

“What about the food in the freezers?” asked Gerald.

Astrid was standing beside him, a large glass of brandy in her hand.  “We don’t want to leave ourselves short of food, or risk it going off and getting food poisoning.”

Loretta overheard and joined in.  “Let’s go and see how much we can take out of one freezer and put in others.  Or put some in the fridge if we use it up tomorrow or the next day.  Come on, Astrid, you and I have got the sense to work out if we can make enough room for… it.  Don’t know if we can trust the men not to make a pig’s ear of it.”

“Or a sheep’s ear,” said Mark, keeping his gaze away from the two women.

 

A few had nodded off on the sofas and armchairs in the bar by the time Gerald heard back from an officer on Ovina.  Others had gone to bed.  I thought there was too much of a buzz about the place to sleep.  It’s not every day you come across a corpse being eaten by a flock of herbivores.

Tapping a knife on a bottle on the bar, Gerald called us to attention.

The room came alive to the sounds of befuddled questions and grunts.

“Listen up.  We’ve got some police officers coming over from Ovina.  They’ll be coming by dinghy, so they’ll probably be here in twenty minutes or so.  I’d better go and – Oh.  How did you get on in the kitchen, ladies?”

“She’s in,” said Astrid.  “We woke up those two men outside who were watching over her and they helped us.”

Personally I could imagine Astrid flinging Ursula over her shoulder and carrying her in by herself, but of course I didn’t comment.

Adrian and Melvyn came in from their body shifting duties and flopped against the bar.

“Any gin going?” asked Adrian.

“I could murder a Scotch,” added Melvyn.

“Thanks for your help out there, guys,” said Gerald, preparing their drinks.

Melvyn scratched his head.  “Bloody weird thing to happen.”

After downing half his gin, Adrian commented.  “I thought sheep were vegetarians.”

Mark brought his glass up for a refill.  Maybe they’re a different breed down here in the South Atlantic.”

Pulling a pint for Mark, Gerald shook his head.  “Nah.  Sheep are the same the world over, aren’t they?  I always assumed they were the same as the ones we had in Gloucestershire.”

 

The police arrived and started questioning us all.  About an hour later the forensics people came and studied the scene, dug up some soil samples, and left with a sheep with blood on its face, and a half-frozen Ursula.  Finally the police departed and most people drifted back to bed, even though the sun was up.

“Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen,” Gerald had said before yawning so deeply I thought the sides of his mouth might split.  “Just don’t burn the place down or do anything against health and safety.”

A guy called Hugo sidled up to me as I was about to climb the stairs.  “Are you alright?  Do you need any company after such a dreadful event?”

I looked him up and down.  He wasn’t tall or short, or fat or thin, and definitely not my type.  “Are you offering to sleep on the floor to make sure no murderous sheep come to get me?”

Grinning, he said, “I could get closer than on the floor if you like.”

I kneed him in the balls.1,429 words

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

The Ovine Islands had formerly belonged to Great Britain, but gained independence, not by fighting, but by being forgotten.  When they asked for sovereignty, the British government readily agreed, to save money after World War II.

Now the old hotel was reaching out, to attract travellers from the northern hemisphere, particularly the wealthier west.

The day after the Ursula incident, we didn’t do much.  I read an email from my mother that I hadn’t bothered with when it arrived.

 

Dear Enola

I know you’re a long way away, and I’m sure things are done quite differently down there, so I wanted to remind you to make sure you don’t drink any water that hasn’t been boiled first – unless you can buy proper bottled water.  If you have some from a European country, or perhaps Australia or New Zealand as you are in the Southern Hemisphere, then I’m sure it’s fine.  But perhaps you’d better try and make sure it’s genuine.  Maybe boil it anyway unless you can be sure where it’s come from.  I worry you could pick up a bacterial infection or some sort of tape worm.

Be very careful my darling.

Mummy and Daddy love you very much, and Barker is missing you, as is Mr Tibbles.

 

I decided to ping off a reply there and then.

          Dear Mother

One of our group was eaten by some wild sheep, but don’t worry, the giant eagles usually pick off the lambs before they grow too big.

The water’s fine here.

Kisses

Enola

 

***

 

Most of us were too tired to bother to do any proper activity, although half of us got out for a hike suggested by Loretta.  Astrid had been the first to leap up and say she’d go.

Magnus stood.  “Good idea.  Let’s meet in Reception in, say ten minutes?”

Fiona was up for it, which helped Melvyn, Adrian, Hugo and Clive make up their minds.  Mark was keen.  Violet, Selena and Agnes decided they would be safe in a big group.

Two couples who seemed to have hit it off, but who I hadn’t yet had much to do with, came along as well: Bruce and Glenys, Ivan and Bridget.

It was a bit chilly near the coast, and I dropped back and became one of the stragglers at the end.  Mark and Magnus had taken up the role of leaders, with Eileen, Astrid and Loretta competing for second place.

Violet, Selena and Agnes seemed to feel safe following them.

It proved to be a pleasant walk. 

We arrived back at the hotel sometime before seven.  Gerald’s staff had prepared a hearty dinner, and it was ready to greet us along with the news that there had been something strange on Ursula, involving a native herb from Argentina, that had so attracted the sheep and caused them to want to nibble her.

Violet turned to Gerald.  “I was sat next to Ursula on the coach.  Should I wash my clothes?”

Rubbing his hands together, in what I suspected was a nervous gesture, Gerald said, “Yes, yes.  I think anyone who had any physical contact with Ursula should wash their clothes.  What you were wearing at the time.  You know where the machines are, do you?  To the right of the kitchen.”

We had some lovely new potatoes, a variety of vegetables which I must say were cooked to perfection, and a choice of vegetarian quiche, cod in butter sauce, or lamb.  I wasn’t surprised that after the Ursula incident not many people chose the meat.

Mark plonked himself down at my table and I saw he hadn’t been put off the lamb.  “I might be eating a murderer here.  Who knows?  Strange fauna this side of the equator.”

Mark was a rugged type with dark brown hair and a beard that seemed to have a will of its own.  I imagined him playing a lot of rugby at school.  He talked too much, but at least he wasn’t wimpy and whiney, and was quite funny, so I let him twitter on.  I didn’t need to say much in reply.  I didn’t really need to listen.  I didn’t think he’d notice.

After our meal Mark persuaded me to go into the bar and be sociable.

“I’ll meet you halfway,” I said.  “I’ll go into the bar and have a drink, but I won’t be sociable.”

“Fair enough.”

I was a loner, but people did fascinate me.  A bit like going on a safari and watching the animals go about their business.

A couple of interest, one male, one female, mimicked one another, and wore similar black trousers and off-white cable knit sweaters.  With their round middles they reminded me of a pair of penguins.  In a rare moment of speech that evening, I asked Mark if he knew who they were.

“That’s Peter and Peppa from Perth.  I remember because the alliteration made me laugh.”

I was too tired to add how they looked like penguins, but I smiled.

 

***

 

The following morning, we set off with picnic baskets, binoculars cameras and notepads.  Wildlife watching along the north coast.  I was pleased with the photos I took of birds and dolphins.  I even saw some penguins who, to the best of my knowledge, weren’t called Peter and Pepper.

Dinner that evening was good again.  No lamb this time.

Mark, Magnus and a small but sturdy woman called Eileen sat at my table.  They were a chatty bunch, which I hoped meant I could leave them replying to each other while I had my own thoughts.

But somehow Eileen’s voice broke through, “… and did you see those birds of prey swoop down over the cliffs, Enola?  What were they, Magnus?”

“Boobies.”

Mark laughed.  “Boobies?  We have tits in England.  Why are bird experts obsessed with women’s breasts?”  He laughed again slapping his hand on the table.

Eileen giggled, but it was quite an earthy sound.  I don’t think she was embarrassed.  I decided she wasn’t too bad after all.

“They’re not so much birds of prey,” explained Magnus.  “They plunge-dive for fish.”

Dessert arrived and my garrulous table mates put their mouths to quieter use.

 

Gerald strode in.  “How did everybody get on today?”

“The penguins were wonderful,” cried Peppa.  “I felt an affinity with them.”  She turned to her husband.  “Didn’t you, Peter?”

“Hmm, certainly.”

You both look like your part of their family, that’s why.

“That was a large flock where we went today,” commented Magnus.

“Loretta turned to him with a hint of a smile.  “I believe one says a ‘waddle’ of penguins.”

One of the younger men, Ralph, had more to add to the conversation.  “Actually, a flock of penguins can be called a ‘waddle’, a ‘colony’, a ‘rookery’, a ‘raft’, or even a ‘creche’ if there are predominantly chicks.  They huddle together, you know, when the parents go hunting, to keep themselves safe.”

Mark looked at me with a grin and wiggled his eyebrows.  I put my hand over my mouth to conceal a smirk.

But Ralph hadn’t finished yet.  “Do you know why they waddle?”  No one did.  “It’s to do with their skeletal anatomy and hydrodynamic adaptations.”

A chorus of “Ooh” went round the room.

It was interesting in its way, I thought, but not so Ralph.  He struck me as a show off, which I didn’t like.

Gerald cleared his throat and held up a clipboard.  “Now then, I just need to check my register, before we move on.”  He clicked his pen and proceeded to make a note of the time, and then called our names out in turn, like a teacher at school.

“Belinda?” he repeated.

“Oh, sorry,” said Graham.  “She’s in the loo.”

“Right.”  Gerald continued with the names.  There was no reply to Hugo’s name.  “Is he in the loo, does anyone know?”

People looked at one another.

“Perhaps he’s gone to his room,” suggested Eileen.

“I’ll check in a mo,” said Gerald.  He finished the register without any more absentees.

Belinda returned to the room.

“You didn’t see Hugo, did you?”

“Not in the ladies, Gerald, no.”

Hugo wasn’t in his room.

“He’ll be outside enjoying the evening sun, I expect,” said Peter.

“Yes, it’s nice out,” said Peppa.

Gerald turned to go out.

“I’ll come with you.”  Clive stood and stretched.  “You go left I’ll go right.”

The Hitler Youth always went Right.

Astrid stood, scraping her chair back on the wooden floor.  “Has anyone seen Hugo since we’ve been back?”

Mumbling was heard around the dining room.

Nobody had seen Hugo.

“When was the last time you saw him, As?” asked Loretta.

Various muscles moved in a wave across Astrid’s face.  “I don’t know.”  She looked around the room.  “Who was he with today, on our outing?”

More mumbling as people consulted each other, but no one came up with an answer.

Now Ralph stood up.  “Who was with him at breakfast?”

Further mumbling and murmuring ensued but no one remembered seeing him.

Ralph shoved his fists into his sides.  “Well did anyone see him when we came back from our hike yesterday?”

The room was silent.

“Bloody hell, man!” said Ivan.

“Fuck me,” said Bruce.

Astrid began pacing about.  “Okay, think back.  Was he even with us last night when we went out.”

Fiona raised her hand.  “I was walking with him for a while.  Then I got chatting to Timmy.”  She smiled at the man sitting next to her.

“Thank you.  So he came out with us.  Did anyone see him when we got back.”

It seemed no one had.

Gerald and Clive strode back into the room.

“Any luck?” asked Peppa.

“He’s not out there,” said Gerald.  “Between us we circled the hotel.  No sign of him.”

After pouring himself a glass of water from the buffet table, Gerald dropped himself in the nearest chair.  “Who saw him last?”

Astrid stepped over to him and folded her arms across her chest.  “Gerald, no one can remember seeing him since early in our hike yesterday.”

“What?!”

“Seems that way,” said Mark.

Magnus marched over to the door.  “We’re going to have to go and search for him.  He may be out there injured.  Gerald, bring the first aid kit and water.”

“And we need blankets,” said Astrid.  “Where are they, Gerald?  We may need them to keep him warm, or to construct a stretcher, or both.  And you need to contact the police again, tell them what’s happening.”

People were making their way over to where Magnus still stood.

Loretta addressed us all.  “It’s sunny out there now, but it’ll get colder when the sun goes down.  It’ll also get dark.  So wear some warm clothes and bring torches with you.  Or your phones.  Make sure they’re charged.”

Magnus clapped his hands twice.  “You heard the lady.  Go and get what you need, and we’ll congregate in Reception.”

Ten minutes later, Magnus stood between Astrid and Loretta.  As people gathered around, he handed out blankets and water for those with rucksacks to carry them.  When Gerald arrived, he told him to call the register.  Everyone was present except Peppa.

“She’ll be here in a minute,” said Peter.  “Just got a bit of a nervous tummy.”

Another five minutes passed, and they were all present and correct.

Gerald put his clipboard with the register on the Reception desk.

“Bring that with you,” Loretta ordered him.  “We don’t want to lose anyone else.”

 

Off we all set, north-north-east, heading to the cliffs.  Agnes felt sure he’d fallen off them and that’s why no one saw him.

And Agnes was right.

They didn’t need the blankets or the water, not for Hugo.  It was too late.  His body was in an unnatural position, and he was completely still, despite the sea lapping over the top of his head and his right arm.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

The police came again from Little Ovina, with the Coroner’s people to take Hugo away.

Some people went to bed when we got back to the hotel, some of us hung around the bar, snoozing and boozing as the mood took us.  We knew from the last time that the authorities wouldn’t be arriving soon.  Those of us still up answered questions first while the others slept, then after we were all processed the sleeping beauties were called down in ones and twos.

I was one of the first to speak to a detective, so I was in bed before 2am.  Sleep didn’t come instantly, but it didn’t take too long.  I presumed we wouldn’t be expected to eat our breakfast before nine or miss out, so I went down about ten o’clock.

Peppa and Peter were just helping themselves to the cereals and fruit when I entered the room, and unfortunately they insisted I join them, me being on my own.  After two deaths it seemed churlish to say I wanted to be on my own, so I went along with it.

Trays laden with food and drink we were heading to a table wehrn I saw Daphne waddle in.  I’m not sure that I completely hid my snigger.  She reminded me of a penguin, too, just as Peter and Peppa did.  A penguin with a double chin and short iron-grey hair, wearing black trousers and a white jumper.

“Daphne,” I called.  “Come and join us when you have your food.”  I nodded to the empty chair at our table as I placed my tray down.

As expected, a well phrased comment from me about poor Hugo and I set the three penguins off chattering, which gave me relief from having to converse.

The plan for today had been sketching.  We were to set off to another beauty spot and sketch the landscape or the wildlife we saw, but as people were slow rising that morning, Gerald provided us with equipment so we could sketch in or outside the hotel.

“Please don’t go anywhere near the cliffs,” he said to each of us.  He looked at bit grey that morning I thought.

I went outside, a little way along the path towards the dinghies’ moorings.  Just the one there, the one we had travelled in from Little Ovina to Flock Island.  No police or people dealing with dead bodies increasing the dinghy population.

I rather enjoyed the challenge of trying to sketch the sea and give life to the ever-moving waves.  And I was left in peace.

We had lunch at one o’clock.  Mark insisted on sitting with me.  I had to admit he wasn’t too bad.  He got my need to think my own thoughts and didn’t seem fazed when he spoke and I didn’t reply.

Belinda and Graham joined us after a while.

“Ooh, we’re late,” said Belinda.  “It’s a good job they make plenty of food or you lot might have eaten it all.”

“I’m so tired after last night,” said Graham.  “But I need some food.  Missed breakfast all together.”

“So did I,” huffed Belinda.  “We were the last to be spoken to by the police, I think.”

Mark pointed out that was because they’d gone to bed when we’d arrived back at the hotel.

“We weren’t sleeping.”  Graham gave a dirty laugh, echoed by Belinda.

I shuddered at the thought of those two at it.  They were a dumpy and dowdy couple.

For the afternoon Gerald led us out a little way to the south-east, but nowhere near the coast.  There was an interesting stand of trees to sketch, as well as the birds they attracted.  Not that sketching birds was easy.  No sooner had I started on one than it flew off.

Arriving back at the hotel, the sky was turning grey.  People grumbled about the cold and went to fetch extra sweaters.  Hot tea and coffee with toasted tea cakes helped warm us a little too,

Dinner was a couple of hours later.  Quite a storm was raging outside.

By the time we drifted away from the dining room, lightning had started to create a lurid show of shadows against the internal walls.  Nobody fancied sitting by the large windows in the bar.  Some people went off to bed.

Gerald and one of the young women who worked for him brought around candles in holders that looked like tall egg cups on saucers with handles.  They left matches for us.  We had one candle each with the easy to carry containers, and larger ones were set up on tables.

“I presume power cuts are quite common here,” Mark said, just a half-second before the lights went out.

Nature provided intermittent illumination to help us light our candles.

“Foof!” said Daphne.  “Bit like a stroboscope, this lighting.”

Peter and Peppa looked at her blankly.

She saw their expressions.  “Didn’t you ever go to a disco with strobes?  Or a rock concert.”

“Did we?” Peppa asked Peter.

“I’m not sure.”  Peter frowned.  “Are you alright, darling?”

“I always feel safe with you,” replied Mama Penguin.

Papa Penguin reached out and caught her hand.  “I’ll look after you.”

“Oh, that’s so cute,” said the third penguin, Daphne.  She chuckled and her chin wobbled.

I told them I was off to bed to see if I could read by candlelight.

“Good night, Wee Willy Winkie,” said Daphne, laughing again.   I think she’d had a couple of brandies too many.

 

It was light when I woke up at seven-thirty.  I heard Gerald calling to everyone that the electricity was back on, for those who wanted a shower or to make themselves a cuppa in their rooms before coming down.

I was glad.  I felt better after I’d had a shower and a nice peaceful cup of tea on my own, before facing the others.

After all our outside activities so far, we were due to have a peaceful day around the hotel, playing games, or just socialising.  Not really my thing, but if I didn’t find anything of interest, I decided I’d read my book.  At breakfast I noticed a couple of jigsaw puzzles, one of a map of the Ovine Islands.  I thought I might give that a go, and hoped if anyone wanted to join in, they’d do so quietly and without getting in my way.

I managed a lot of the puzzle without interference and spent some time playing patience with a pack of cards.  It made a change using real cards and not virtual ones on my tablet.

We had morning coffee but mostly carried on doing what we wanted.  Everything was cleared out the way for lunch, though.  The puzzle was on a board, so it could be kept safe and gone back to in the afternoon.

I’d received another email from my mum, so I thought I may as well make the effort to read it before going back to jigsaw puzzling or whatever.

 

Dear Enola

I was so sorry to hear about that poor lady in your holiday group.  I read on the BBC website that she had been wearing some foreign perfume or something which was like catnip for sheep.  Please stick to English personal products. I’m sure you’ll be safe from the sheep then.

But as there are so many sheep, I wondered if you could get any wool to bring home.  There’s probably some snagged on bushes and things.  What fun it would be to twirl it (so it came out like we’d used a spinning wheel, like that poor girl in the fairy tale who slept through a whole century, didn’t she?).  I thought then we could knit or crochet it into a little blanket for Mr Tibbles.  That would be lovely for him, wouldn’t it?

Don’t forget to boil the water and only wear English toiletries.

Love from Mummy and Daddy

 

I thought I’d better reply to the old cow.

 

Dear Mother

A man fell off a cliff on a hike the other night.  It was his fault for getting too close to the edge in poor light.  I wouldn’t be so foolish, so don’t worry about the same thing happening to me.

Enola.

 

It was a good time too to contact my mentor.

 

Dear Evelyn

I’ve continued in my quiet time to address my issues regarding other people.

I must write to two people with apologies, to make amends.  It will do me good to get on better with people who are decent and mean no harm.  Being here and forced to communicate with new people has shown me that.

Then, as regards the other end of the scale, I have already made decisions there too.  I am proud of how I am working through these issues.

Again I thank you for being such a help to me.

Enola.

***

 

I had come to understand that going and sitting at a table by myself only meant other people would come and join me, so I chose Mark to sit with.  Magnus joined us, but nobody else.  I suppose we had a couple of spare seats now, with Ursula and Hugo no longer with us.

We hadn’t been out in the morning, so Gerald didn’t bother with the register, but when we’d spent another few hours in and around the hotel, some of the natives were getting restless.  We had afternoon tea, and Astrid stood up and asked who wanted to go and stretch their limbs before dinner.  Most thought that a good idea.  We were due to have a quiz in the bar in the evening, so fresh air and exercise was what was needed.

“Hang on, everyone,” said Gerald.  “Let me make a record of who’s going.”  He noted who we all were on the way out.

Astrid and Loretta lead the way eastwards at a brisk pace, leading us round the stand of trees we’d tried to draw, and a little further south, before coming back via the west coast.

We returned feeling refreshed and with good appetites, piling into the dining room and hoping dinner would be soon.

Gerald entered with his clip board.  “Now, let’s make sure none of you have fallen off a cliff.  I noticed Glenys and Bruce and Ivan and Bridget didn’t go with you.  I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” said, Magnus.  “I think I saw them go upstairs when I went to get a jacket and my water bottle.”

“I did too,” said Eileen.  She did her earthy giggle.  “I think they all went into one room.”

Gerald flushed a little.  “I’ll just go and check.”

Mark and Magnus looked at each other and grinned like schoolboys, then shot off after the Manager.

When they returned, Gerald was positively blushing, and Magnus and Mark were overtly chuckling.  They came over to me.  Apparently there were still some fluffy handcuffs attached to the bed when Ivan answered the door, with only his head looking round it.  Both couples were there.

Gerald stood up straight and cleared his throat.  “Right, that’s four people I know are here.  Let’s go through the other names.  Shout out when I call yours.”

There had been twenty-five of us when we arrived.  Two deaths put it down to twenty-three.  Two couples playing in the bedroom knocked down the number of names to nineteen.  But only eighteen people answered.

Gerald sighed and grimaced.  “Eileen, can you go and check the loos for Daphne please.”

While Eileen was on her mission, Ivan and Bridget and Bruce and Glenys, came down with good appetites for dinner, and a couple of members of staff took everyone’s orders.

“I can’t find Daphne,” Eileen said to Gerald, frowning.

“Okay.  Go and sit down.  I’ll check upstairs.”

In less than five minutes, Gerald was back.  He wasn’t blushing this time.  In fact he looked very pale.  “Daphne was electrocuted by her kettle.  Must have been this morning.”

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

Peppa covered her face and started to cry.  “That’s so awful!”

Peter wrapped his arms around her.  “There, there.  What a dreadful accident.  I presume it was something to do with the lightning.  And we did click with her, didn’t we, darling?”

“Yes.”  Peppa said, her voice muffled against her husband’s jumper.

No wonder they clicked, they all looked like penguins.

“What can we do to help, Gerald?” asked Astrid.

Gerald was sitting in a chair with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.  He sighed, then looked up at Astrid.  “Nothing, thanks.  I’ll have to call the police again.”  He straightened his back, sighed again, and stood.  “You all enjoy your dinner, then if you’d like to make your way into the bar afterwards, we can have our quiz.”

I had a lovely roast dinner with pork, followed by a fruit flan and cream.  Some people seemed to allow what had happened to Daphne to dampen their appetites, but as Ralph pointed out, people do die from time to time during heavy electric storms, and that was just how the cookie crumbled.  Well, he said something about fate and karma, but that was the gist.

Peppa and Peter Penguin went up to their room after the meal, Peppa had a bad headache.  The rest were up for the quiz.  That was twenty-one people.  Gerald suggested we aim for teams of three or four.

I voluntarily buddied up with Mark and Magnus, as they were tolerable and didn’t keep pestering me to talk.  Clive joined us

The two very close couples, Ivan and Bridget, Bruce and Glenys formed a team.

Astrid and Loretta were joined by Eileen and Ralph.

Belinda and her partner Graham sat with the glamorous Fiona, and her chosen partner of the last couple of days, Timmy.

Violet, Selena and Agnes spent most of their time together by then and formed their own team of three. 

Adrian and Melvyn chose to be a team of two.

Astrid, Loretta, Eileen and Ralph’s team won.  I shouldn’t have been surprised after all those facts Ralph had spouted about penguins.

Mark, Magnus and I came second, so I felt quite proud.

The police and Coroner came and went.  They thought Daphne had died from a tragic accident.

However, we were scheduled for a day trip to the island of Little Ovina the following day and were told to come into the police station to give statements.

 

Before we left the following morning, I found time to write some emails apologising to people for being a grumpy old git.  At the end of it I felt I had improved my mental wellbeing and properly addressed three cases of things that had put me down, and amended three that I could only blame myself for.  It felt good.  I hoped to make further progress soon.

The weather was back to sunny when we set off in the dinghy to the larger neighbouring island.  The view of the harbour town was quite pretty, with all low-level housing.  Apparently this was because the wind from the south-east could be rather ferocious in winter, and roofs blew off taller buildings.  They’d learnt their lesson.

We found the police station, and a nice café nearby.  Gerald was with us, making twenty-four people in all.

“There’s a lot of us to go into the police station all at once.  What I suggest is that I go with eleven of you, while the other twelve enjoy morning coffee or whatever you fancy in the café.  We can swap later on.  Agreed?”

“Good idea,” declared Astrid.  “Loretta and I will come with you for the first sitting, as it were, and get it over with.”  She looked around the group.  “Eileen, you come with us, and Ralph.  Adrian and Melvyn… Belinda and Graham, and… Peter and Peppa, and Violet.   Alright Gerald?”

“Thank you, Astrid.  I want the rest of you to go to the Harbourside Café and stay there, or just outside if you get uncomfortable inside.  Please don’t wander off.  You could go into the neighbouring shops if we’re a long time but keep in pairs and tell someone else where you’re going.  I’m sure you all understand why.  Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking care of us, Gerald,” called Agnes.

“Yes, thank you.  And good luck with the police,” said Selena.

Knowing I’d have to sit with someone, I stayed with Mark and Magnus, who seemed to get on well with each other, and were both tolerable.  Clive, the member of the Hitler Youth (in my mind) joined us at a table for four in the café.

Bruce, Glenys, Ivan and Bridget sat together, of course, leaving Fiona and Timmy flirting with each other on a table of their own.  Selena and Agnes found another table to share.

After a while I got fed up and wanted to go and have a look outside.

“You can’t go out on your own,” said Agnes, her face all scrunched up with worry.

“It’s okay if I don’t go into the shops,” I replied.  “I’ll just be outside, enjoying the fresh air and the view.”

Looking to Agnes for confirmation, Selena said, “Well, he did say we could go outside, and in pairs if we went into the shops.  Be careful, Enola.”

“I will.”

Others drifted out as time passed.

Bruce wanted some chewing gum, so Ivor escorted him into a shop.  Clive wanted a book about the island, so Magnus accompanied him.

Eventually Gerald and his group reappeared.  They went into the café, and we went to give our statements about Daphne’s demise to the police.

Once back together again, we took a walking tour of the town.  At two-thirty we headed out on a pre-arranged bus tour around the island.  It was an interesting tour, although I could have done without the guide keep stating the obvious: this is a lighthouse, here is the island’s favourite pier for sea fishing (it was the only pier).

Finally we strode back to the harbour to get into our dinghy.  Well, some of them strode, some of us strolled.  I was near the back, enjoying the birds swooping around.  I climbed into the boat, and just as I was heading for a small space next to Mark, I heard a scream behind me.  Twenty-three pairs of eyes swivelled to whence the sound emanated to see Agnes sinking into the water.

Astrid and Loretta, followed by Gerald, clambered to the back of the boat and tried to reach an arm or a leg of the sinking Agnes, but to no avail.

Magnus loped off in the direction of the police station.

It wasn’t Agnes’s lucky day.  By the time assistance arrived, she was floating away from the boat, and we could see what I presumed was a patch of blood on the back of her head.

 

 

CHAPTER 5

 

We filed back off the dinghy.  Mark nudged me and pointed to a corner of a concrete step with blood on it.  “That’s what did for her, I presume,” he said close to my ear.

We were led the two blocks back to the police station by a sergeant at the front, and a constable at the back.  We stopped in the car park.

The sergeant stood on a step leading to a door.  “I want you to put yourselves roughly in the order you were on the boat.  Who was at the front?  Who saw them there?  Think who was forward of where you were.”

Gerald was going to steer us from the front.  People who were near him either side went and stood beside him.  Then the people who sat next to those people and so on.  As they got themselves sorted as to who was where near the back, I stood between the rows either side, as if walking on and going over to Mark.

“Why are you standing in the middle of the boat?” the sergeant asked me.

“I was going to sit next to that man there.”  I pointed to Mark.  “But I didn’t get that far.”

“Oh, right.  Now.  Who was looking towards the back of the boat?”

People looked at each other, the way people do, but no one admitted to looking towards the back, if they had.

The sergeant asked if we were sure about who was sitting next to whom, and when we nodded our agreement, he and the constable took a side of the ‘boat’ each and wrote down our names.  After that we were told we could go.

Off we waddled again, like ducks after their mother – mummy duck being Gerald.  Selena was snivelling, but mostly we were quiet.

At last we made it back to Flock Island and climbed the rocky path up to the hotel.

A woman came out of the kitchen, voice and arms raised, asking where we’d been.  “I hope the dinner’s not ruined.  You’re late!”

“There will be one less for dinner tonight,” said Gerald.

As Astrid strode past him, she corrected his grammar.  “One fewer, Gerald.”

“Not another accident, surely?”  The woman from the kitchen sounded exasperated.

“Agnes fell off the back of the dinghy, getting in.”  Gerald rubbed his hands over his face.  “She hit her head on the steps and drowned.”

Clive was standing nearby, looking rather lost.  “I’m not so sure these deaths are all accidents.  I’m beginning to suspect murder.”

Just at that moment, Violet and Peppa emerged from the Ladies off Reception.  “Murder?” they said in chorus.  “No!”

Peppa ran to Peter and buried her head in his chest and cried.

Violet stood where she was and let large silent tears escape her eyes, until Astrid and Loretta came and hugged her.

The kitchen woman called to us to all to go and sit down.  Dinner was ready.

The roast potatoes were a little dark and hard in places, but I quite liked that.  The beef was rather dry, but they gave us plenty of gravy.  I noticed Mark’s fish had a larger amount than usual of tartar sauce.

While we were tucking into fruit crumble and custard or ice cream  (the choice was ours) the sound of an outboard motor approached across the sea.  We heard a dinghy being pulled up on the shingle, which showed how the Agnes debacle had quietened our group.

Adrian and Melvyn could see the beach from where they sat.  “It’s a man and a woman carrying small cases,” Adrian informed us.

We were even quieter as we strained to hear what was being said to Gerald out in Reception.

But we weren’t kept in suspense long.  Gerald brought the visitors into the dining room and introduced them as “Doctor Sheila Garfield, and Nurse Scott Mackerby.  They’ve come to speak to any of you who are suffering emotionally after these dreadful accidents that have happened to some in our group.”

Clive scraped his chair back and stood.  “Don’t you mean murders that have been happening?  They can’t all be accidents, surely?”

Peter spoke to him firmly.  “Clive, you are not helping.”  He held his wife close as she sobbed again.

Selena and Violet sat at right angles to one another; their arms locked around each other’s necks as they too cried.

I noticed some people didn’t finish their crumble, simply pushed their plates away.  It wasn’t that bad, quite nice actually, I thought.

The doctor was a medium height medium build woman with ginger hair and a heavy fringe.  “If you would like to talk to us, please remain in the dining room.  Those of you who don’t feel they need help at the moment are free to go to your rooms.”

“Or the bar,” added Gerald.  He made more money from our spending time in the bar than in our rooms, I assumed.

 

I went into the bar and decided to drink my cider by the pint.  I felt I deserved it and wasn’t bothered about looking unfeminine.

Mark and Magnus got themselves pints of beer and came and sat with me.  We were beginning to form ourselves into little cliques.

The four who were found in compromising circumstances in a bedroom, always sat together.

Astrid and Loretta were a definite pair, if not a couple.  Adrian and Melvyn had possibly travelled together.  They seemed to be old mates.

Graham and Belinda were partners, and flirty Fiona was becoming that way with Timmy.

The penguins Peter and Peppa were of course a legally bound couple.  They spoke to the medics then came into the bar to join us.

Tall Selena had shown herself to be something of a woos when the body she could see amongst the sheep before the rest of us, revealed its bloody front to all.  And Violet had displayed her nervous side when she realised she’d been sitting next to Ursula on the coach and may have had some of the sheep-attracting herb on her own clothing.  They seemed to have formed a three-way bond with Agnes.  Oh well, they had each other now.  They were the last to come through to join us in the bar.

Clive and Eileen had made some friends here and there but remained as floaters.  That evening they sat at a table together, just the two of them.  Eileen short and sturdy with her curly light-brown hair.  Clive tall and athletic with his blond hair and blue eyes – Aryan.

In an attempt to jolly us up, Gerald suggested a game of Music Bingo.  We were all given a card marked into squares.  Each square contained the name of a music band or singer.  The idea was that Gerald played clips from musical tracks, and if we recognised the artist and had their name on our card, we should strike through it.

It was a reasonable distraction despite the odd shout of, “I don’t know who that is but it’s rubbish”, and “I’m too old/young to know who that is.”

There was no outright winner, with the best of us getting threes and fours out of ten possibles.

Next a game of word association was suggested.  We had to drag our chairs into a rough circle, and moving clockwise took turns adding a word to the last one according to certain rules.  If we couldn’t think of one within twenty seconds, we were out.  It was like a children’s party, but not too bad.

Fiona said “rope”, Bruce followed with “bondage”.

Belinda said “clown”, Graham said “Trump”.

Adrian said “legs”, prompting Melvyn to say “spider.”  Violet screamed.

And at exactly that point the electricity went out and we were plunged into darkness again.

Peppa shrieked.

Selena burst into tears.

Violet wailed, “There’s going to be another death, isn’t there?”

Astrid, Loretta and Mark were first to get their phones out and put on their torches.

And there beside the chair he’d been sitting on lay Gerald, face down.

Quite a lot of screaming ensued.

Mark shouted, “Anyone know where those candles are?”

The woman behind the bar had just fished some out and found the matches.  A few seconds later she had a candle lit, and used it to light others.

Astrid got down beside Gerald and felt for a pulse.  “He’s alive!”

To the sounds of some continued sobbing, candles were passed around the room until vision was reasonable.  We could see blood pooling round Gerald’s head.  Astrid and Loretta rolled him onto his side and a wound showed itself on his forehead.

“We can’t even call for an ambulance,” blubbed Selena.

Peppa was clinging tight to Peter, her head buried in his chest, her shoulders heaving.

“Peppa,” he said softly, and took her face into his hands.  “I’m going to get a candle and take you up to bed.  Today has been too much for you.”

“Peter.”  Violet was beside him, holding Selena’s hand.  “Will you see us safely upstairs.  We’re scared.”

“Of course.”  Peter had managed to get his wife standing, but she was still clinging tightly to him.  He looked around.  “Melvyn, Adrian, can you give us a hand.”

While Astrid and Loretta attended to the unconscious Gerald, a handful of people gathered plenty of candles and assisted another handful of people upstairs.

I went up to the bar, where a worried looking barkeep eventually noticed my presence.  “A vodka and coke, please.  Easy on the coke.”

I looked around.  Mark and Magnus were sitting together chatting as if nothing had happened.

“And a couple of pints of lager,” I said.  I was glad they weren’t freaked out.

By the time I had the drinks on the table, Astrid was announcing Gerald was coming round.

“Gerald!  Gerald!  Can you hear me?”

“Wha…  What happened?”  Gerald’s voice was groggy.

“All the lights went out, and then we found you here.  You’ve had a bash on the noggin.  Can you remember what happened?”

Gerald lifted a hand to his head, felt the blood, and moaned.

“Did someone hit you?” asked Loretta.

“Oh my bloody head.  I think the floor did.”

“You fell?”

“Yeah, tripped on a chair leg.”  Gerald let out a heavy sigh.

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

I had a dreadful hangover the next morning, and hoped earnestly the electricity had come back on so I could have a shower and coffee in peace, followed by a huge fry-up.

I got my wishes.

I even got most of my fry-up in beautiful, healing solitude, until Mark came down and entered the dining room wearing sunglasses.

He grabbed a pastry from the cold buffet and asked for a full-English.  He ate the pastry while he was holding it in his mouth without hands, pouring himself a large orange juice and then coffee.

The pastry had disappeared by the time he reached my table.  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“About the same as you, possibly, but I didn’t think to wear sunglasses.”

“Just going with squinting to keep the light out, I see.”

I was.

“Food makes it feel better.”  I wiped egg yolk off my plate with a piece of toast.  “Don’t know if people were down here earlier and I missed them, or if they’re still cowering upstairs.”

“A bit of both probably.  Have you seen Gerald?”

“Briefly.  Just going into his office with a dressing on his forehead.”

“Ah, he’ll have his own sort of headache then.”

We both looked out the window at the sound of an engine.  It was a large helicopter headed our way.  ‘Police’ was written on the side.  It flew over the hotel and landed on the open grass the other side.

“We have people die on us, and we just have to give statements to the local bobbies,” said Mark.  “Then Gerald trips over a chair and we get the big guns coming to see what’s going on.  They must be important else they’d have arrived by dinghy.”

 

One of the ladies I’d seen in the dining-room, behind the bar, and cleaning in Reception whisked outside.  A few minutes later she escorted the human contents of the helicopter into the dining room, along with a couple of suitcases.

Gerald followed them in, a frown beneath the dressed wound on his head.

A man of about five and three-quarters feet in height, very square of shoulders, and indeed rather square face-on altogether, with neatly clipped grey hair thanked the member of staff and said he’d take it from there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please.”

Muttering travelled the room.  It sounded like the type that would be accompanied by raised eyebrows in the main.

Gerald came round to face him and introduced himself.

The square man shook Gerald’s hand, gave him a tight smile, then looked up to face the rest of us.  “I am Chief Detective Roman Gouda.  Cheesey, I know.”  A few of us got the joke.

He turned to the younger man behind him.  He was more like an upside-down triangle, broad across the shoulders, narrow at the hips.  He had a very round face on top of a hidden short neck.  His hair was a very dark brown, short at the sides, and long enough to reveal its waves on top.  “I’m Detective Vincent Cessna.  And my name is a little plane, compared to the boss’s.”

Two people laughed.  I was one of them.

Gouda asked that all guests and staff come down to listen to what he had to say.

Gerald went upstairs and we could hear him knocking on doors and calling out names, saying senior police officers were waiting to speak to everyone.  Then he came back down and offered tea or coffee to our visitors.  “Some of them may have been asleep,” he explained, “So we’ll need to give them a few minutes.”

Chairs were provided for the officers, suitably placed to address guests and staff.

When it seemed all the guests were present, Gerald made show of calling the register.  “Twenty-two.  All present and correct.”

The square man introduced himself again, without the joke about the cheese.  The triangle man with the circle head then introduced himself.  Now everyone knew who they were.  But what are they doing here?

“I expect you’re wondering why we’re here,” said Gouda.  Ooh, mind reader.  “You’ve spoken to various officers from Little Ovina, but we’re from the main island, where you would have landed by plane.  Ovina City.  What has been happening to you people has been of increasing concern, so we were contacted, and we’re of the same opinion.  It is a worrying situation.  Four deaths so close together stretches coincidences taught.  We have been questioning if you are the unluckiest group ever, or if someone is bumping you off one by one.”

Clive leant back in his chair and crossed his arms.  “I said it was murder, didn’t I?  Don’t forget that when I’m proved right.”

Female tears started up again, mainly from Selena, Violet and Peppa.

Astrid and Loretta moved over to Selena and Violet’s table and held their hands.  Peter put a wing around his penguin partner’s shoulder.

Mark put his mouth near my ear.  “Let the mudslinging and blaming begin.”

“Vincent Cessna, here, is not just a detective, but also a paramedic.  Whatever the reasons for the deaths, Doctor Garfield was concerned about you.  So if you’re finding it hard to cope, please speak to Vincent.  He will be staying here, at your convenience for the rest of your holiday.  He’ll help keep you safe, and care for your welfare.”

“Thank you,” said Gerald.

“Between us we want to speak to each of you today.  No rush this time.  Just tell us everything you know, and as importantly, all that’s on your minds.  We want you to open up to us.  Let us help you.  And let’s sort it out between us what’s going on.”

Gouda smiled appropriately, not too wide and jolly, but enough to show concern.  “Gerald, can you organise a couple of rooms for us to talk to people privately.  An office, or a spare bedroom.  And of course, Vince will need a room to stay in after our discussions… “

Gerald stood.  “Yes, we have some spare bedrooms that should be suitable.”  With four dead guests, there would be spare bedrooms.  “If you’d like to follow me.”  He led the way out through Reception.

Eileen stood and looked round the room.  “Would anyone like to play a game, or do the activities we’ve used before, art equipment, cards, puzzles?  Keep our minds off all this wretched business.”

“Good idea, Eileen,” said Belinda, getting to her feet.  “Let’s get the equipment out we had the other day.  I’ll help you.”

“Come on Aidrian,” said Melvyn.  “Let’s get these tables put into a more suitable arrangement.”

While so many people were being busy organising stuff, I went to my room to check my emails.  There was another from my mum.

 

Dear Enola

How horrible for you that a man fell off the cliff.  I am worried about you being in that strange part of the world.

The BBC reported someone fell into the water and drowned at one of the Ovine Islands, and after a particularly bad lightning storm, someone else was electrocuted.  It’s not like Europe down there, is it?  I hope these things had nothing to do with your group.

Any luck finding sheep’s wool?

Take care and remember English goods are the safest.

Lots of Love from Mummy and Daddy, Barker and Mr Tibbs.

 

 

Not wanting to get involved in the rearranging of the dining room, I decided to send a short reply straight away.

 

Mother

I’m fine, but I’m afraid I haven’t found any wool yet.  We’ve been keeping away from the sheep mostly.

We’ve done some art, jigsaw puzzles, played cards and other games, and went for a tour of Little Ovina.

All good.

Enola

 

While I was there with my laptop, I decided to whizz off an update to Evelyn.

 

          Hi Evelyn

Unfortunately we’re back to unexciting activities today, but I do feel pleased with my personal progress.  This holiday seems to be just what I needed.

I have done what I think will make things right with those I angered, and have put to peace my grudges with four others.

I hope you’re not too cold over there in late winter.  Here, of course, it’s the end of summer.

Your grateful friend

          Enola

 

***

 

I went back downstairs and approved of how the dining room had been set out.  The map puzzle was back and no one was working on it, so I claimed it for myself.

A couple of minutes later, Peppa a Peter waddled into the room.

“How did it go?” asked Belinda, striding over to them.

Peppa put an arm around Peter’s waist.  “They both seemed very nice.”

“They did,” agreed Peter.  “It will be good to have Vincent staying here with us.  Just in case…”

Belinda frowned and studied Peppa’s expression.  “I’m sure everything’s going to be just hunky dory from now on.”

Gerald came in.  “Who wants to go and talk next?  There’s two of them, so one each.”  He glanced around and caught Graham’s eye.  “How about Graham and Belinda?  Go on up.  You’ll see the rooms they’re using.  The doors are open.”

 

We moved some things aside to give us table space and had a finger buffet for lunch.  Gouda and Cessna took a break from their questioning too and sat together talking quietly while they ate.

It was all wonderfully civilised.  We had tea and coffee to finish, and no one was rushed off to speak to the police.

Mark and I were sharing a table with Astrid and Loretta.  “I don’t think they seriously consider a murder has been committed,” said the latter.  “They are very laid back.”

“Yes, you’d imagine them being more hasty and unfriendly if they’d been suspicious of us,” said Astrid.

Mark put down his cup and crossed his arms.  “Yes, I get the impression they think we’ve just been unlucky.  Why not?  Four obvious accidents.  Out of the original twenty-sex of us, what kind of ratio is that?”  He looked to me with his brows raised.

I tried to see the numbers in my head.  “Twenty-six divided by four…  six and a half.  So count the halves, that’s thirteen into fifty-two.  Does that work?”

Mark took over.  “Let’s see if we can work out a percentage.  Four deaths out of twenty-six, that’s four on the top, twenty-six on the bottom… divide both by two gives two over thirteen… multiply the two by a hundred…”

“It’s less than twenty percent,” said Loretta.  “If there had been five deaths, and twenty-five of us – which is only one out – that would have been twenty percent.  Fives into twenty-five goes five.  A fifth is twenty percent.”

“Good thinking, Lolly.”  Astrid patted her on the shoulder.  “We’ve lost less than one in five.  Or should that be ‘fewer’?”

“But if we have a murderer, they’re not as bad as the flu epidemic of 1918,” I pointed out optimistically.  “That attacked one-fifth of the world’s population.”

 

 

CHAPTER 7

 

Chief Detective Roman Gouda and his side-kick Vincent Cessna stood and looked around.  “Who hasn’t spoken to us yet?” said the boss.  “How about you two?”  He was looking at Mark and me.

“Okay,” said Mark.

I just nodded and tried to compose my face into the right expression for less than twenty percent of the people in our group having died since we arrived in the Ovine Islands, but each death being individually sad to those who loved the people.  I haven’t a clue how successful I was.

I have a suspicion Roman Gouda was of the opinion men were more likely to commit mass murder, as he chose to interview Mark.  I went for a chat with Vincent Cessna.

My grilling comprised a little introduction about who I was and where I came from, moved onto where I was at the times people died, and then onto how I felt about it all.  Last I had to give a character assessment of everyone in the group, alive and dead, plus comments on Gerald and the staff.

Cessna sat back in his chair and looked at me directly.  “Don’t forget, Enola, that I’m also a trained paramedic, and quite used to dealing with distressed people.  If you find all this hard to cope with, come and speak to me.  Likewise if you have any suspicions, I’m available, and so is Chief Detective Gouda today.

“Thank you, Vincent.  Good to know in all this chaos.”  I gave my weak little woman smile, including looking at him through my eyelashes, and went off back downstairs to send someone else up to talk to him.

I decided on another cup of tea and went back to the map puzzle.  Soon Mark returned and came over to me.  “How’d it go?” he asked.

“I didn’t admit anything, and they didn’t suspect.”

“Same here.”  He grinned like a cheeky schoolboy.

 

Sometime after five o’clock, Roman Gouda declared he and Cessna had spoken to everyone individually.  “Gerald has kindly invited me to stay for dinner.  I’ll do that, then get back to Ovina City.  Feel free to speak to me while I’m still here, and don’t forget Vince is going to stay for you after that.  You’ve all been through a lot.  Make use of us.

Bridget was near enough for me to hear her say to her three companions, “Do you think he’d spend the night with us if we asked?”

I’d heard the expression ‘troilism’ but didn’t know what one called a menage a cinq.

 

Magnus joined Mark and I for dinner.  We hadn’t seen much of him all day.  He’d struck up a new friendship with Eileen, so she joined us too.  It reminded me of teenagers’ double-dating, which was a bit of an unsettling thought.

While we were digesting our food over coffee, Clive stood and addressed the group.  “We’ve been stuck in here a lot today.  What say you we go for a good hike or a jog later?”

Astrid and Loretta were up for either, as were Adrian and Melvyn and Magnus, Eileen, Ralph and Mark.

“I’m up for a hike, but not a jog,” I said.  “I’ve eaten too much and I haven’t stretched anything except my patience all day.”

Bruce and Glenys, Ivan and Bridget said they had planned to go to the south-west of the island, where we’d seen the majority of the penguins before.

Peter, Peppa, Violet, Selena, Graham and Belinda decided to stay in and watch a DVD.

Fiona put up her hand.  “I’m game for a walk, if Timmy’ll come.”

Detective Vincent Cessna declared he’d have a bit of a jog, mostly hike, but stay back at times to keep an eye out for everyone’s safety.

Half an hour later, we set off.  A few started off jogging, some hiked briskly, I walked at a medium pace, and Fiona and Timmy strolled and giggled.

Vince Cessna jogged down past me, going the wrong way, passing me again the other way a short while later.

I stopped and stretched my calves, thighs and arms, encouraged by the fresh air and the good hormones increasing with exercise.  Then I started to jog.  Not too fast, of course.  After a while I saw Mark and Magnus ahead of me.  They’d stopped jogging and had slowed to a smart stroll.  I gradually slowed as I caught up with them, not wanting to appear out of puff or suffering from cramp.

I looked ahead.  “Some of them still jogging then?”

“Oh yes,” said Magnus.  “I suppose we have some marathon types with us.”

I huffed out a little laugh.  “Yes, I suppose if anyone’s done that, five miles or so isn’t much at all.”

“You need to keep it up though,” said Mark.  “Although, as you say, this distance isn’t much – for fit people.”

Magnus slapped him across the shoulders.  “Which isn’t us, unfortunately.”

“Here comes the cop again,” I said.  “I suppose Cessnas are faster than your average plod.”

Vince gave us a wave as he passed.

I could hear a bit of a commotion ahead of us.  “What’s going on up there?  Someone fallen and broken a nail?”

“Hah!  Maybe.”  Mark broke into a gentle jog and Magnus and I followed.

“Help!”  It sounded like Astrid or Loretta.

Mark turned round and shouted, “Vince!  Help needed.”

The detective wasn’t far behind.  He’d only had Fiona and Timmy to check on.  Soon he was trotting past us.  He broke into a canter as more shouts for help came from somewhere ahead of us.

We sped up to and arrived to see Vince Cessna giving Ralph CPR.

Mark walked the last few metres.  “What the fuck?”

Adrian put a hand on Mark’s shoulder.  “He stopped to take a drink and just started choking, mate.  It was gruesome.”

Melvyn turned as Magnus and I caught up.  “He’ll be alright.  He must’ve just swallowed down the wrong hole.”

“Eurgh, that’s a dreadful feeling,” said Magnus.  “You can’t stop coughing even when you’ve got rid of it.  Suppose his body blacked him out because it couldn’t cope.  Automatic reset, sort of thing.”

He didn’t look all that alright to me.  “How long’s he been like that?”

Melvyn looked at his watch.  “Oh, I don’t know.  I didn’t look at the time when he collapsed, did you Adrian?”

“No.  I reckon it’s at least five minutes.”

Astrid and Loretta came over to us.  “Time’s difficult to gauge when there’s an emergency,” said Astrid.  “It might even have been ten minutes.  I had a go on his chest, then Loretta did, and we’re not weak.  Vince is looking a bit red.”

“He was running full pelt a moment ago.”  Mark was getting closer, and he knelt down the other side of Ralph.  “I’ll take over, Vince.  Take a break.”

While Mark did compressions, Vince flopped back, rolled sideways and got himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily.  He pulled out his phone.  He tapped it.  He pressed the ‘on’ button.  He held it up in the air.  “Anyone got a signal?”

“I’ll try over there,” said Astrid.  “It’s a little higher.”

Adrian started to jog in a different direction. “I’ll try over here.”

Mark continued to do chest compressions, but Ralph’s face was looking blue.

Loretta came round to Ralph’s side.  “I’ll try some breaths.  You never know,”

Nobody got a phone signal, and Ralph didn’t regain a pulse.  We had to carry him all the way back to the hotel.  Well, Vince, Magnus, Mark and Melvyn started to carry him, and some of the others swapped to help.  I kept my distance.

 

 

CHAPTER 8

 

Poor old Ralph went into the freezer, just like Ursula before him.

It was after ten in the evening.  Vince wasn’t sure we’d get someone from the Coronor’s office out here at this time of the night.  After all, there was nothing they could do for Ralph.

But judging by the verbal rumblings, people wanted answers.  By all accounts it seemed Ralph chocked on the water from his own bottle.  There was no foam around his mouth nor signs of acid burns.  Water had killed him?

Vince sniffed the bottle.  “Doesn’t smell of anything but water.  Surely there’d be something to smell, or see, if there’d been some kind of poison in it.”  He seemed to be addressing the bottle, rather than us.

Then he looked up and around and asked to speak to all the people who had been near Ralph when he met his end.  “I don’t need to speak to the rest of you.  You were either in here, or I saw you out there, walking.”

Melvyn said, “Bruce, Glenys, Ivan and Bridget went off to the south-west tip, where the penguins gather the most.  They’re not back yet.”

Vince frowned and huffed.  “Well, I’m not going to worry about them unless they don’t come back.  We would have seen them if they’d been near Ralph and done something.”

With her face scrunched in confusion, Astrid nodded.  “Loretta and I were pretty much keeping stride with him until he stopped for a drink.”

“And Melvyn and I were just behind,” said Adrian.  “We saw him stop and take a swig, then started to choke.  Nobody touched him.”

Going over to the bar, Mark muttered to himself.  “Bloody hell, this is an unlucky group.  You lot been walking under ladders or breaking mirrors or something?”

I decided to go up to my room.  I was tired, and thought the peace would be good.  I wasn’t needed for questioning.  Why would I be?  I was walking with Mark and Magnus when it happened.

It had been a busy day, and I must have been more beat than I realised.  I fell asleep reading my book.

 

After an uninterrupted sleep, I felt quite fresh in the morning, and made it down for breakfast by eight-thirty.

Gerald was just inside the dining room.  “Enola, you haven’t seen Bridget and Ivan or Glenys and Bruce this morning, have you?

“No, I’m sorry, Gerald.  I hadn’t seen anyone until I walked in here.  They’ll be in their rooms, won’t they?”

“No.  They’re not.  I had to look, I know it seems an invasion of privacy, but I hadn’t seen them come back last night.  I’m worried.”

That was plain to see by his face.

“Don’t worry, Gerald.  What are the chances something happened to all four of them together on the same evening Ralph choked?”

“I know, it all sounds so ridiculous.  But we’ve had so many… accidents lately.”

“I’m sure they just decided to stay down there.  It’s lovely scenery.  Perhaps they wanted to see the sun rise.  Maybe they took some photos.”

“Do you think so?”

“They are two very together couples, aren’t they?  Enjoy doing their own thing.”

A weak smile tried its luck on Gerald’s face.  “Yes.  Yes, they do spend all their time together.  Thank you, Enola.”

I went and helped myself to some coffee and juice and ordered a full-English.  Seems last night’s events had tired a lot of people out.  Peter and Peppa sat very close together at one table, and Violet and Selena sat at the next one.  Belinda and Graham were a couple of tables away, gazing into each other’s eyes as they ate.

One of the staff brought me my cooked breakfast, so I asked if she knew where the detective was this morning.

“He’s been in the office making contact with the people in Ovina City.  I expect he’s feeling rather silly, having lost someone on his first night here looking after us.”

That made me giggle.  I liked her.  No idea what her name was.  They all looked the same to me, in their staff uniforms with their hair in nets.

I took my time over my breakfast, then strolled around the hotel, enjoying the fresh sea air.

When I returned, I decided to saunter over to Gerald’s office.  He was talking in hushed tones with Detective Cessna.

I cleared my throat.

They looked round at me.

“Enola,” said Gerald.  “Everything alright?”

“I was just wondering if the missing four had shown up yet.”

Gerald sighed heavily.  “No.  Still no sign.”

“Has anyone been round there in the dinghy to look for them?” I asked.

Vince looked at me, a little pink cheeked.  “I tried.  I got a few yards, and the outboard motor conked out.  I did try rowing, up the front where it’s narrow, but I couldn’t manage it by myself.  I just ended up going out to sea.”

“Oh dear,” I said frowning.  “Did you get the boat back to the shore, or did you have to jump into the sea and swim?”

“I managed it with the oars eventually.  But it’s a tricky business with the waves lapping the way they do here.”

Gerald rubbed his hand over the bald top of his head.  “Just more bad luck, eh?  We’ve asked for some more fuel for the dinghy when the coroner and whoever else gets here in the helicopter.”

“Well, I hope it shows up soon.”  With a little wave, I left them to it.  I decided to go back outside.

As soon as I got away from the entrance I let the laughter out, but I covered my mouth to muffle the sound.  If anyone heard me, I’d pretend I was crying.  But really – how much bad luck can some people have?  A police officer who’s also a trained paramedic, and he didn’t even check the fuel in the dinghy’s motor.

I took out my phone, unfolded the cover, and eased out a joint, lighting it with my mini lighter I kept in there too.  I strolled over to where there was a wooden bench overlooking the sea.  Soon I was feeling this was the best place to be in the world.

 

When the helicopter arrived, I managed a wave.  Officer Cheese was back, and he had three other people with him, all men.

Gouda split off from the others to come within calling distance of me.  “How are you?”

I so wanted to giggle, I had to pretend I was gently crying.  “Glad you’re here, Mr Gouda.”  And that sounded funny to me, so I did more pretend crying, until he disappeared into the hotel after his colleagues.

I was mellowing as Vince Cessna came out with another man carrying a can of petrol.  They filled the boat’s motor, and Vince started it.  It sounded as it should, so presumably the problem was fixed.

As they put on life jackets, two more men rushed out, put on their protective gear, and they roared off towards the south-west tip of Flock Island.

I strolled along the coast a bit, and back again, then went into the hotel and up to my room.  There was another email from my mum.

 

My dearest Enola

I know I don’t see you every day normally, but I miss you, and I don’t like you being so far away.  Daddy misses you too.

Are you being careful?  I hope none of your friends have had any more accidents.

Have you been able to get any sheep’s wool?

Enjoy your holiday.

Love from us all here in England.

 

I think we were supposed to be going to Ovina that day, but with another death and four people missing, we had to put up with entertaining ourselves, which seemed a bit unfair.  I decided I might as well reply to the parent.

 

Mother

Don’t worry all is fine here.

We have a young man from the big island, Ovina, staying with us for a while, and a couple of visitors today, but otherwise all is quiet.  I just haven’t had the chance to find wool.

Enola

 

There was an email from Evelyn too.

 

Hi Enola

Are you making progress with putting your past to rest?

How’s it all going as a holiday, generally?  I hope it’s good, and the weather is alright.  Funny to think you’re in late summer over there.

Take care

Evelyn

 

I whisked off a quick reply.

 

Hi Evelyn

I’m having a good time, thank you.  The weather is fine, although it’s cooler here than it would be in late summer in England.

My emotional burdens are lifting each day, it seems.  Last night I put another part to rest.

I’m very grateful to you.

Enola

 

I heard the dinghy return and went down to see if they’d picked up the missing foursome.  They had, but all four had silver blankets wrapped around their shoulders, and they didn’t look like happy bunnies.

Must find out what happened.

I passed them as they made their way to the stairs.  I gave them my very best sympathetic smile, and they smiled back weakly.

I could hear Gerald and Gouda in the office, welcoming back Cessna and the other three men.  “They got caught on a tiny patch of sand by the tide,” Cessna said.  “They’re all safe now.  Just going to clean up.”

Ha ha!  I wonder if they were stuck on a piece of land so small they had to stand up with the tide lapping at their feet.

I strolled into the dining room to see who was about, and more importantly, if they had the urn on to make tea.  They did.  I poured myself a cup and took the empty chair at a table with Mark, Magnus and Eileen.

“Enola,” said Eileen keenly.  “Do you know what happened?  We saw the swingers return.  I’d thought they were done for.”

I looked at Eileen.  She was grinning.  Maybe I could see what Magnus saw in her.  She could be my type of person after all.

“Well, apparently, they were performing a love chain on this patch of soft sand, and before they knew it, the tide had come in and they were stranded on a tiny island.  I think they took a break, changed partners and went for it again to pass the time.  I suppose it kept them warm.”

“Enola!” said Mark in mock exasperation (at least I don’t think he meant it). “Would you be embellishing that story just a tad?”

“Moi?”  I looked at him with wide eyes and raised brows.  “Well, maybe they just got stuck on a piece of sand.  But that sounds a bit boring.”

“Ooh, yes,” said Eileen.  “Your version was more interesting, Enola.”

Magnus looked my way.  “We saw them walk in with those emergency blankets around them, so realised it wasn’t one of the more fatal accidents that tend to beset this group?”

“I imagine they’re cold,” I said.  “Besides, the routine seems to be no more than one death in any twenty-four-hour period.”

“True,” said Mark.  “What do you think will happen today?”

Despite the clear skies, a sudden thunderbolt flashed and rumbled through the room.

 

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Gerald packed some of us off with art equipment to a natural beauty spot, while others stayed behind to speak to the police.  We swapped around mid-afternoon.

When it was my turn to talk to the detectives, Gerald directed me into his office.  It could be a worse room, I thought.  It had a pleasant sea view, and neither Gouda nor Cessna came across as threatening.  The questions were quite basic and straight forward.

“Have you seen any members of the group, or staff, acting suspiciously at any time?” asked Gouda.

“No, I don’ think so.  Not that I remember.”

“Ok.  No need to rush.  Think carefully about your answers.  It’s easy to forget little moments that don’t seem relevant at the time.”

I sat and hoped I’d posed my features into a serious thoughtful expression.  “Sorry.  Can’t think of anything.”

“Did you people who went on last night’s hike leave your bottles around while you got yourselves ready?”

“I didn’t.  I always take a little backpack, and I keep my bottle in there when I’ve filled it.”  I smiled weakly at Gouda.  “Let me think…  Some people have one of those bum bags, I think you call them.  Just for their bottle, tissues, phone, whatever.  I think Mark carries his bottle in one of the pockets in the side of his trousers.  He’s very much a pocket person.”

Cessna leant towards me.  “How did Ralph carry his bottle.”

I frowned dramatically as I thought, so they knew I was giving it my best shot.  Then I released my eyes and mouth into circles.  “He had a strap he wore across him, over one shoulder.  A pouch at the bottom for a water bottle, another for a phone… maybe more.  Quite useful I suppose, if it didn’t bounce around while he was jogging.”  I looked up at Gouda and then Cessna.  “No.  It had a belt that went round the waist too.  That would have stabilised it.”

Surely they’d have examined it.

“Where did you all fill your bottles?” asked Cessna.  “Did you have access to a tap for drinking water, maybe in the kitchen or the bathrooms?”

He must have asked everyone this already.  So tempting to say something silly…

“I fill mine in my room, where I keep it.  Where I keep everything that I don’t have on me.”

“Do most people do that?” he pressed.

“Look, I know you’d have asked everyone that by now.  What you want to know is did we have access to each other’s bottles, and did we know whose is whose.  The answer’s yes, sometimes they’re left around in the dining room or the bar, and as for me, I don’t know who owns which one.”

Cessna smiled and looked over to Gouda, who said, “Yes, that is what we’re getting at.  You’re brighter than some.”

“Not all, I hope.  If nobody worked out what you were asking, it’d be a dull group of dull brained people.”

Gouda changed the subject to Agnes falling off the boat.  I had to admit I was possibly the person in front of her, but as I was looking forward at the time, I couldn’t be sure.

“Did you feel her catch her foot on yours, anything like that?” asked Gouda.

“I didn’t know anything about it until I heard her scream, and by the time I turned round, standing in a swaying boat, she was already in the water.”

Cessna leant towards me and looked me straight in the eye.  “How many times did you go into Daphne’s bedroom?”

“I didn’t go into Daphne’s bedroom at all.  Didn’t even see it through an open door.”

“How did you get on with Hugo?” he asked next.

“Hugo?  I didn’t really know him.  I knew who he was.  We were all introduced to each other.  But that was it.”

“Didn’t he come on to you, that first night.  After the Ursula matter had been sorted out?”

I looked at him with my best confused face.

“We were told you kneed him in the groin.”

I grinned.  “Oh, yes.  That’s right.  Used poor Ursula’s death as an excuse to offer to keep me safe in my bed.”

Cessna turned away, but not before I saw his smirk.

Gouda took his turn.  “How well had you got to know Ursula?”

“I hadn’t.  I only met her in the Reception of this hotel, just before I went to bed.”

Gouda kept his gaze on me.  “You knew her from elsewhere?”

“No.”

He stared at me a bit longer.  “Okay.  Thank you for your help.  You’re free to go.  Stay on the island of course.  Near the hotel, if not in it.  It’s best if each guest keeps with one or two others when not locked in your rooms.  Keep safe.”

I couldn’t resist it.  “You think there’s a murderer amongst us?”

Gouda’s lips pressed together and he snorted softly.  “I think that’s a strong possibility I’m afraid.”

I was having fun with my acting.  This was my chance to put on my seriously shocked face.  I added a little tremble of fear for extra effect.

“Are you alright, Enola?” asked Vince Cessna.  “I could give you a mild sedative if you’re frightened.”

I smiled sweetly.  “Thank you, but no.  I don’t do drugs.  I’ll stick with my friends.”

Mark had already been questioned, so I went and asked him to come outside… and we had another joint.

 

About half an hour later, we went in for dinner.

Magnus and Eileen were sat together and we joined them.  Amazing as it was, I had been enjoying the company of these people.  I usually only like my own, but maybe it’s different in different circumstances.  Anyway, they made me laugh, and I liked that they didn’t get all freaked out about the deaths.

Chief Detective Roman Gouda and Detective Vincent Cessna joined us.  They tried to look relaxed and just part of the group, but I sensed they were watching us all.

As I was thinking that, Mark whispered to the three of us at the table, “Ever feel like you’re being watched?”

A muted chuckle conspiratorially formed itself between us.

“If I’m going to be watched, I think I’ll give them something to look at,” I said.  I gave it a moment then stood, and started staggering to the door, and slammed a hand to my forehead.  I reached for the back of Violet’s chair, swayed over her shoulder, making her shriek, then swung back and collapsed on the floor.

I had my eyes shut and couldn’t identify who made them all, but I heard a satisfying chorus of screams, gasps and howls, and Violet sobbing.  I heard feet moving about, mostly in my direction.

I opened my eyes to tiny slits and saw someone kneel down beside me.

“Enola?”  It was Vince Cessna.  “Enola?  Can you hear me.”

I didn’t answer.  He shook my shoulder gently.

I decided to honour him with a groan.

“She’s coming round,” said a woman’s voice.

“Enola, can you open your eyes for me?”  It was Cessna again.  I fluttered one eye open, and left the other one half closed, as if I didn’t have the energy to raise the lid all the way.  I thought it was probably an effective look.

“Enola, you fainted.  I’m going to put you in the recover position.”

Oh no you’re not.  Where’s my medicinal brandy?

Before he could move me, I sat up.

I looked at him with one and a half eyes, then flicked the half-closed lid all the way open.

He looked so concerned I actually felt a bit sorry for him.  Also, I didn’t want to be packed off to bed before I’d finished my dinner.  I looked at him demurely.  “Sorry.”

He put a hand on my shoulder.  “How are you feeling?”

I started to get up.  “I’m fine.”

“Don’t get up too quickly.  Stay there if you need to.”

I got up onto my feet.  Sorry, I must have stood too quickly from the table.  It’s been so stressful today.  I’ll be fine now.  I was just on my way to the Ladies.  Perhaps I could have a medicinal brandy,” I said as I started for the door.

I went to the loo, to give my act credence, and came back, walking slowly, hoping I looked pale and mysterious.

Then right in front of me, in her chair, Selena wailed and fell forward into her soup dish.  Had she outshone me?

Violet screamed even louder, and the sobbing returned.

Then she too fell forward.  Luckily she had already pushed her plate away.

I had to dodge out of the way as Cessna rushed to Selena.  And then again as Gouda flew off his chair to Violet.

I made it back to my own seat, noting no medicinal brandy had arrived, and sat down.

Eileen reached her hand out to mine.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  Did you enjoy the performance?”

Eileen puffed out air.  “I wasn’t sure if it was for real.”

I grinned.

“Good performance,” said Mark.

Hiding his mouth with a hand, Magnus laughed quietly.  “Loved it.”

Looking straight ahead at the table of current interest, Mark asked, “But what’s going on over there?”

I glanced at Mark, then over to the table where Selena was still slumped with her head sandwiched between two halves of a bread roll, and Violet was being steadied in a sitting position by Roman Gouda.

Cessna was feeling Selena’s neck.  “Is he trying to find a pulse?”

“Oh, not again,” said Eileen.

Mark sighed and shook his head.  “This is becoming an inconvenience.”

Magnus nodded.  “Puts one off one’s dinner, what?”

Astrid and Loretta suddenly rose as if a puppeteer’s strings were attached to their heads, and went to the officers and the distressed damsels.  Loretta lifted Selena’s wrist, her fingers placed where a pulse should be found.  She shook her head.

Astrid put her arms around Violet and encouraged her to come and sit elsewhere.

“No, no, no!” came a squawk to my left.  It was Peppa.  Peter pulled her to his chest.

Adrian went over to Loretta, quickly followed by Melvyn.  With added assistance from Vince Cessna, they lifted Selena out of her chair and carried her away.

“When will we get our mains?” asked Mark. 

 

 

CHAPTER 10

 

There was no messing about with the authorities this time.  Now the police suspected we were in the midst of a spate of murders, and the big boys from Ovina City were involved, emails were answered quickly and people dispatched to Flock Island by helicopter as a matter of urgency.  Two helicopters were sent this time, and their arrival had the hotel absolutely buzzing.

The late Selena was whisked off in one chopper for a prompt autopsy.

More police officers and scenes of crime personnel were with us now.  Everyone was interviewed, with two officers per suspect, in the spare bedrooms; and the dining room was checked for whatever counted as a clue by the forensic people.

The rest of us hung about in the bar.  I think after all that had been going on, they were doing a good trade in alcoholic drinks.

I continued to hang about with Mark, Magnus and Eileen.

Out of the four of us, Mark was the first to be escorted to an interrogation suite by a uniformed constable.

Magnus was taken away before Mark returned.

Eileen looked at me.  “Are you worried about what they’re going to think about you collapsing just before the real thing?”

I twisted my mouth to one side and sighed through my nose.  “Nah.  The likes of Violet and Peppa might well have fainted with the stress if they weren’t so well supported by others.  I’m not sure Peppa can stand up half the time, without Peter holding her up with a wing.”

Eileen grinned.  “A wing?”

“Don’t they remind you of a couple of penguins, with their round middles and the way they walk, and act like each other.”

Eileen glanced off, then chuckled.  “Yes, I see what you mean now I think about it.”  She was silent a bit, then said, “I wonder how Violet is going to cope now.  D’you remember how she used to stick to Selena, and previously they both used to go around looking nervous with Agnes?”

“Hmm.  I have seen them turn to Peter for help before.  Perhaps he’ll… take her under his wing.”

Eileen nudged me with her elbow and giggled quietly.

Smirking, Mark returned from his stint of helping the police with their enquiries.

“What was it like?” Eileen asked.

Mark pulled a contorted face.  “They had me with the thumb screws and threatened me with the rack.  In the end they forced me to tell them where I’d been every second of my stay here.  They’re going to find a lot of people telling very similar stories.”

“What are they doing with Violet?”

“I think they’re showing her pictures of sheep until she confesses.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I really don’t know,” said Mark.  “Every one of these deaths could have been just an unfortunate accident.  Even Selena could have just collapsed with a heart attack or stroke, she was so stressed out about the other events.”

Eileen agreed.  I nodded.

“Another drink?” asked Mark.

“Thanks.”

“Why not?”

While Mark was at the bar, Magnus returned and walked over to join him.

“Do you think he looks like he coped without breaking down?” I said.

“Hmm.”  Eileen rubbed her chin between an index finger and thumb.  “He’s still standing.  Tough as old boots, both of them.”

“You’re no wimp yourself.”

“Flatterer,” said Eileen and we giggled again.

Astrid was not far away and gave us a disapproving look.  I puckered my lower lip.  “I get a nervous giggle under stress,” I explained.

Mark and Magnus joined us.

“They’ve stepped it up a notch today – did you find that Mark?”

“Yes.  Far less nicey nicey.  But I couldn’t really think of anything to help.”

Eileen leant an elbow on the table.  “Maybe it’s a good job we didn’t end up betting on who was going to be the next victim, after all.  It would have been so creepy to get it right.”

We sipped in silence for a while, then I asked if the police had mentioned anything about how people died.  “Like, how Ralph choked on water?”

Mark looked up.  “Cessna said to me something about dropping something in his drink.  Sounded like a chemical, but I’d never heard of it.  Did they say that to you, Magnus?  Who’d you get?”

“I had Mr Big Boots Gouda.  He asked me if I’d heard of… now, what was it?  Butyl stearate, I think.  Something I’d seen on the list of ingredients for suncream, or shampoo or something.  I’m a bit of a label reader.”

“I wonder what it is about an ingredient in suncream or shampoo that someone would want to put in a water bottle.”  Eileen frowned.  “Is it poisonous?”

I shrugged.

“Never heard of it,” said Mark.

Frowning, Magnus said slowly, “I wonder if it’s the sort of thing that clings to itself in water.  You know, how oil and water separate, and the oil goes in blobs.”

I gave a little nod to one side.  Mark shrugged.  Eileen said, “Maybe.”

Then a uniformed constable called my name.

“Wish me luck, folks.  If they drag me off, it was nice knowing you.”

 

I was interviewed by a uniformed officer with stripes on his sleeve, Special Constable Waverly.  He looked at me as I walked in and sat down, then he studied a sheet of paper in front of him.  He checked my name, date of birth, home address, the flight I’d caught from Heathrow, the day I’d arrived in Ovina City and at the hotel.  I felt like I was about to have an operation, and half expected him to check my blood pressure.

“I want you to talk me through everything you did involving the people in this group from the moment you got onto the coach outside the airport.  Well, I don’t need to know what book you read or what you saw out of the window, but who you sat with, who you talked to.  Paint me a picture.”

“I actually sat alone, in a single seat behind the driver,” I said.  “I like my own company, especially when I’m with people I don’t know.  I didn’t really look at the others.  I did, as you suggested, read a book and look out the window.  I was interested to see what this part of the world looks like, and I saw a lot of unfamiliar birds, plus penguins.  And I love to look out to sea.”

I talked a lot and wondered if it was too much; but he’d asked me to paint him a picture, and I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t taking it seriously.  In fact, I managed not to giggle or make any sarcastic remarks the whole interview.

Magnus had got the substance right that had been found in Ralph’s bottle and throat, although only a trace, Waverly explained.

Agnes had hit her head on the stone steps en route from the boat to the sea.  Mark had been keen eyed to spot the blood.

Again I was informed about the substance found in Argentina that had got onto Ursula’s front that had fatally attracted the sheep.  He asked if I’d heard about it before, and I told him “No”.

“Had you noticed any bad feeling towards Hugo during his time in the group?” the officer asked.

“Not really,” I replied, but I felt I’d better confess I’d kneed him where it hurts a man, in case someone else did.  “He may have tried it on with someone else when we were out on our hike.  But I didn’t see anything.”

“When, how many times, had you been in Daphne’s room?”

“I hadn’t at all.  I didn’t get to know her particularly well.  I haven’t been in anyone’s bedroom.”

Special Constable Waverly asked me to think carefully if I’d noticed any guests or members of staff acting in any way that had struck me as odd.

I looked down at my hands folded in my lap and frowned.  I went through as many people as I could remember.  A tiny smirk made it to my lips before I stopped it by running my tongue over them.  I’d thought of how Peter and Peppa had reminded me of penguins, as had Daphne.  Then I thought about Clive looking like an advert for the Hitler Youth and wondered if I should mention it.  They hadn’t turned out to be good people, although I don’t think all of them knew what they were getting themselves into.  Finally I looked up at the man opposite me.  “Can’t think of anything.”

“Tell me what happened to you when you fainted in the dining room, just before Selena collapsed.”

I took in a deep breath.  “I wanted to go to the Ladies, but soon after I’d stood up I got a sudden pain through my head.  Then I felt all woozy, and I blacked out.  It took me a while to come round, but I felt alright then.  The head pain hadn’t lasted.  I just felt… washed out.  I think it was all the anxiety of these terrible, tragic deaths.  And I hadn’t eaten enough.  I’ve been alright since dinner.”

I tried not to hold eye contact, but his expression seemed to pass through sympathy and suspicion and back again.

Then he gave me a little speech, that I suspected had been preprepared, about keeping safe, and I thanked him and assured him I would follow his advice and be careful.  Then I was dismissed.

I went back down to the bar.  Eileen was being questioned.  I saved my debrief until she returned.  It seemed we had said about the same things as each other and hadn’t remembered anything suspicious.

“So we remain free another day,” I concluded.

“And still alive,” said Mark.

“I wonder if the theory of only one death a day will hold,” speculated Magnus.

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

The following morning I had a nice long shower and two cups of tea before I went down for breakfast.  I’d slept well and woken early.

My mother hadn’t written again, surprisingly, so I thought I’d just send her a Hello.

 

Hi Mum

Just to let you know that all’s well here.

Some people have left, but we have some others staying at the hotel now instead.

We’re going to Ovina, the biggest island, today – where the airport is – to have a look around.

Love to Daddy, Mr Tibbles and Barker

Enola

 

I thought that would be a pleasant surprise for her, my taking the initiative and showing some affection.

As I sat sipping tea after I’d sent the email, I thought about actually looking for some wool, snagged on branches or whatever, to take home to the old dear.

There was a message from my mentoring friend.

 

Dear Enola

How’s it going down there in the antipodeans, or whatever you call the southern hemisphere?

I hope you are using this time to relax, put your past behind you, and look forward to a positive future.

Remember, I am always here for you if there’s anything you want to get off your chest.

Make the most of every day.

Evelyn

 

I found that encouraging and sent her a brief reply.

 

Hi Evelyn

Thank you for your email, and your continued support and friendship.

I managed to put yet another past trouble behind me, and I am doing well.

There is someone here I am concerned about, who I fear might be suffering, and I hope today I can help her.  That is a step in the right direction for me, isn’t it?  Thinking more about others, less about myself.

I will consider carefully how best to help this fellow holiday maker.

I’ll be in touch soon.

Enola

 

By then I was hungry and ready for a hearty breakfast.

 

We travelled by dinghy to Little Ovina, and by coach across the middle of the island, as opposed to the scenic coastal route of our arrival.  From the west side we travelled by ferry to the largest of the islands, Ovina.  Ovina City was where the airport was, and our transport from there to take the ferry that first day had been along the straightest trajectory, allowing us to see little of the island’s delights.

From where we got off the ferry this time, another coach took us northwards, giving a beautiful view of the sea, Little Ovina, and at places we could even see Flock Island.  There were other islands creating the state known as the Ovine Islands.

After a few miles beside the rocky coast, typical of this area, we arrived at a seaside town, where there was the unexpected sight of a soft-sanded beach.  The town was poetically called Oceana.  It had some quite magical architecture.  I was especially fond of a row of individually coloured houses on a rise above the main road, from which the occupants must have had the most wonderful sea views.

The coach drew into a car park next to a large round tower, four storeys high with a conical roof of terracotta tiles and some protruding windows.  The building itself was painted a deep blue at the bottom, which evolved up the height to a pale baby blue near the top.

We piled out of the coach, entering this magical edifice in search of toilets and refreshments.

Although I had chosen the single seat behind the driver again, I was happy to sit with Mark, Magnus and Eileen in the café.

“Time to stop and stare, as some poet said,” I commented.  “Without what we’re staring at continually moving past our eyes.”

Beaming at me, Eileen replied, “That’s very poetic, Enola.”

“I know.  Must be time for another joint before I start getting sentimental.”

After some chuckling, we did indeed have a good look around us.

Mark rested his arms on the table.  “I was wondering if anyone was going to flee off back to Blighty, as we’re here near the airport.  I was particularly expecting Peter and Peppa to waddle off.”

“They’ve been thinking about it,” said Magnus.  “I heard Astrid and Loretta telling them they must do what they feel is best, but that they’d miss them, blah, blah.”

Eileen nodded her head discretely towards the penguin couple.  But now they’ve got Violet to look after.  Do you think she’ll go if they do?”

“Hmm.  She’s almost as nervous as her poor pals Selena and Agnes had been,” I said.  “But I suppose we’ve only got a few more days.”

Mark actually looked serious for a moment.  “I think Cessna’s been giving Violet and Peppa some calm-me-down pills.”

Eileen glanced across at them, letting her eyes roam around the room on the way back to us.  Very discreet I thought.  “I think you’re right, Mark.  They do have a bit of a spaced-out placid look about them.”

The marvellous round building also served as a museum and art gallery on the higher floors.  We got to mosey about the place after a tasty lunch.

The views from each of the floors were marvellous, and just as interesting as the exhibits and pictures.  The top floor was particularly quirky and appealed to my sense of fun.  There were personal items that had belonged to past inhabitants of the Ovine Islands, as well as some of their arts and crafts.  In the middle of the large circular room was a teddy bears’ picnic.  All sorts of handmade cuddlies ranged around a picnic blanket with food that looked to be made of papier mâché.

There was a random totem pole, that a card at its base declared was hand-carved by a mayor in the 1920s.  A dolls’ house stood proudly nearby, it’s front open like two doors revealing a tiny family with all its miniature belongings inside.

I walked behind it and over to a window.  I could see a corner of Little Ovina, and three further islands more to the north.  It was all very beautiful, and sunny.  It still struck me as strange to see the early afternoon sun shining from the north, and not the south.

The next window along had a strong pair of binoculars on a stand, and I was fascinated looking to the other islands, at the birds, and having a good look at the people sitting outside.  And there were the human penguins, with Violet traipsing behind.

Oh dear, she’ll have to put on weight round her middle and learn to waddle better to fit in with Peter and Peppa.

Violet did look rather sedated, but not happy.  I felt for her.  I hadn’t had much to do with her, but I knew enough to realise she must be feeling rather alone and afraid.

I moved away from the binoculars and along to the next window.

Loretta and Astrid were standing arm to arm, as if joined by Velcro.  Beside them sat a huge Humpty Dumpty.  It was painted brightly, and I couldn’t tell if it was made of metal or wood.  I stepped a little closer to get a better look.

Loretta opened the sash window in front of her.  It stuck about two feet from the sill.  Loretta leaned to her left and pushed some more.  “You’ll have to put some pressure on it your side, As.”

So Astrid leaned up to push, catching her arm on Humpty Dumpty on the way, causing him to fall, just like in the nursery rhyme.

I gasped in unison with Astrid and Loretta, as we three bent forward, only to see Humpty land on Violet.  I believe he fell from his heavenly position to put her out of her misery instantly.  As I had the window to myself after Loretta and Astrid rushed off downstairs, I could see and hear a man declare Violet dead, and that was no more than a minute from her being crushed.

Peppa’s body must have been in agonies of indecision whether she needed to fight or take flight.  Her arms flapped, and she ran away, only to twirl round quickly back towards Peter, who had started to run after her; so she dodged to the side to avoid a collision then spun back to try to catch him; whereupon her tummy bounced into his and threw her back onto her tail feathers.

That was the first time I’d heard Peter scream.

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

Three ambulances arrived in very quick time.

One took Violet away, without sirens or lights.

Another took both Peter and Peppa, as they couldn’t be prised apart.

A short, dumpy woman from the third ambulance trotted into the café and came back out with two ice-creams, which she and her partner enjoyed before moving off back to saving people.

Wearily arriving back at our hotel a few hours later, we learnt that the penguins would be in hospital for the night, at least, suffering from shock, and after that would be going back to England.

Humpty Dumpty must have been made of metal, because he didn’t need putting back together again.

Witnesses at the scene all told how the heavy ornament had fallen onto Violet, and local police gave Astrid the benefit of the doubt that she had knocked him off his wall as she tried to open the window with Loretta.   I was chief witness, having been right there behind them.  Nevertheless, Vince Cessna wanted to speak to us.  I went first to tell him what I’d seen, so he’d know how to approach the other two.

Our decreased party of seventeen had dinner, then piled into the bar.

Gerald was looking pale, but I had to admire him for making sure the show went on.

“Right, everybody.  I’d like to offer all drinks at half price this evening.  It’s the least I can do when your visit to Ovina was cut short.  Then I wondered if later you’d like to play a game?  Another quiz, perhaps?”

Adrian called out, “How about guessing who’s behind all these deaths?”

Melvyn nodded vigorously.  “Who thinks each one was an accident?  No offence, Astrid.  Loretta and Enola back you up that you knocked Humpty Dumpty off his wall accidentally, but have we had half a dozen accidents?”

Jumping to his feet, his hands balled into fists at the end of straight arms, Clive raised his voice.  “Several of us saw Ralph choke.  It was an accident, I tell you!”

“It was,” said Loretta clearly, followed by a few other mumbles of agreement.

“What about that girl who got electrocuted by her kettle?” said Timmy in a much higher-pitched voice than seemed right, all puffed up of chest and muscled arm waving.  “Is health and safety considered in this hotel?”

Gerald moved in front of the bar to address us all.  “Please, please, let’s keep this calm and civil.  One free drink for everyone, then take some slow, deep breaths, and we will discuss matters.  I’ll fetch Detective Cessna.”  He strode out of the room.

People flocked to the bar, asking for doubles and triples for their free drinks.  I noticed Fiona went up and got a drink each for her and Timmy, even though he’d just got them both one.

Mark and Magnus spotted the ruse too, and both went up to get a tray of drinks for the four of us sitting together.

The randy foursome managed to get a bottle of wine apiece.

By the time Cessna had placed a chair in the best position to talk to us all, the room had become rather noisy, and people were going up to the bar for more drinks.  The woman serving looked like she daredn’t refuse anyone.

Gerald sat beside Vince Cessna, and at last the group quietened down.

Standing, Vince requested that anyone who wanted to ask or say something put up their hand.

Gerald remained seated.  He looked like he didn’t have the energy to stand to take questions.  “Now, Adrian, I believe it was you who started the discussion…”

Several whiskeys down by this time, Adrian had mellowed.  “I’m sorry, Gerald.  I’m just rather concerned for our safety.”

“That’s understandable.”  Gerald used a soothing voice.

“Detective Cessna,” called Melvyn.

Gerald did stand this time.  “Melvyn, again I understand your concern, and that you are a very close friend to Adrian.  But I think to avoid this discussion degenerating into mayhem, I must insist everyone put up their hands to speak.  We’ll get to you all in good time.  But go ahead now, Melvyn.”

“Detective Cessna.  Vince.  How many of these deaths do you honestly think were accidents, and how many do you think were… well, murder?”

Vincent puffed out his cheeks and blew.  “It is difficult to say for sure.  I’m afraid I was informed today that Selena was poisoned.  So I feel sure we’ve had murder.”

A few gasps were emitted, and some frightfully bad language.

Belinda put up her hand.  “Can we go home tomorrow instead of the day after?”

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to get enough seats for all of you,” said Gerald.

Vince cleared his throat.  “We have a murder to solve.  At least one.  We’re going to have to do some further investigations.”

The room descended into chaos again.  At least it meant the woman behind the bar wasn’t busy, so we got more free drinks.

With seventeen guests left, Gerald and his staff, and Cessna and a couple of lower-order bobbies, it was decided we’d have to stay until the morning of the day after next.  We were all to be very careful and keep an eye on each other.  Although Gerald insisted we could still have a wonderful time.

I received an email from my mother, which reminded me about the sheep’s wool, so I decided I could try to find some of that for her.

Evelyn had written to ask how things were going, and I explained that the person who seemed to be in pain, by which I meant Violet, was no longer suffering.

When we gathered for afternoon tea on our last day, Cessna came in, clapped his hands, and called for everyone’s attention.  “You will be pleased to hear that Selena probably wasn’t murdered.”

“She’s still dead, though,” said Adrian caustically.

“Yes.  And that is sad.  But our forensics people investigated the fish she had for dinner, and it was found it had swallowed something and poisoned itself before it poisoned Selena.  Some kind of heavy metal.”

Complete silence eerily filled the room a moment before some ill-mannered giggling.  Okay, so that was me, quickly followed by Eileen.  But what a thing to happen!

People were still wary of others, and now of the food, too.  But I managed to find a nice bagful of wool for the woman who gave me life, and our group of four happily passed the time high and drunk.

Soon it was time to say goodbye to Gerald and his staff.

Once more, we were taken by dinghy, this time with Cessna driving us, to Little Ovina.  From there, we met a coach and travelled across to the other side of the island and drove onto the ferry bound for Ovina.

As I had become so unusually sociable, I agreed that Mark, Magnus, Eileen and I should arrange seats on the same plane back to Heathrow, but I still claimed the little single seat behind the driver on the coach.  Time to enjoy my own company for a while and admire the view.  Soon I’d be back in the northern hemisphere, where if the sun shone at all, it being February, it would be from the south.

After all the usual hassle and hanging about at the airport, the four of us piled onto a plane, put our hand luggage in the overhead lockers, and tried to get comfortable for the long flight.

A rather tarty looking flight attendant closed the door and was grabbed from behind by two men with guns.

 

 

CHAPTER 13

 

“Hey, there’s in-flight entertainment,” said Mark.  His grin wasn’t convincing.

“One of those immersive plays,” said Magnus, “by the looks of things.”

I had the aisle seat, next to me Mark, then Magnus, and Eileen by the window.  She looked pale.  “Realistic looking gun,” she murmured.

I put my head down and hissed, “Don’t catch their eye.”

I looked up through my lashes to see the flight attendant being tied to the door handle by a hirsute thick set man in his thirties or forties.  “Don’t go escaping out that door now, will yer?”  An Irish accent.

The other man was more bean pole, with stubble on his face and over his scalp – dark grey.  He had the same accent.  “I hope you don’t mind, now, but you’ll be taking the scenic route via El Salvador.”

“What is this,” said Magnus, “the nineteen-seventies?”

I thought I sensed Skinny giving him a filthy look, but I was too scared to glance up.

“We’re just going to tell the pilot,” he said.

“Don’t try anything funny,” warned Hairy, “because our friends at the back have their eyes on yous”

Many pairs of eyes swivelled towards the back of the plane.  A man stood in each of the aisles, holding a gun.

“There are more the other side of the facilities, there,” he added.

Skinny and Hairy tried to burst into the cockpit and found it firmly locked.

Hairy turned to the tarty lady tied to the entrance.  “How do I get to have a word with those guys in there?”

Here screamingly red lipstick made her face look almost pure white.  “You can’t get in there.  It locks automatically if the plane is threatened.”

“You didn’t answer my question.  How do I talk to them?”

Unusually magnanimous for me, I willed the woman not to pass out with fear.

“The intercom’s back there, behind the curtain.”

Muttering “Don’t turn yer back on them” to Skinny, Hairy walked past me and headed to the service area.  Soon we heard his message for the pilot.

“You’s to land this plane in Tecoluca in El Salvador.  If you don’t, we sure have a lot of people to shoot.  So no funny business.”

He marched back down the other aisle and played matching statues with Skinny: backs straight against the wall, guns held in both hands, aiming at the ground, presumably allowing their shoulders and arms to take what rest they could.

For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of the plane flying through the clouds.

“Well, this is no fun.”  Mark leant his elbow on the arm rest, and his chin in his hand.  “Do you think we’re allowed to order drinks?”

“Well…”  I sighed.  “They didn’t say we couldn’t.”

Magnus leant forward and looked at Mark.  “Mine’s a triple brandy.  For medicinal purposes, you understand.”

“Same here,” said Eileen.  “And can you see if they’ve got some pork scratchings or something?”

“What time are we due a meal?” Magnus asked.  “Don’t want to spoil your appetite.”

“Good point.  Ask them, will you?”

“Mark,” said Magnus.  “Ask them when we’re due a meal.”

“I’m on a diet.”

I liked my own company, and to think my own thoughts, but I decided to be magnanimous.  It was all part of my efforts at self-improvement.  “Excuse me, sir.  When will we be eating?  Can we have drinks in the meantime?”

Hairy turned to me, scowling.  “Is this some kind of a trick.”

“No.  But you don’t want a plane full of hangry people nagging at you.  Better to keep the peace.”

“Is that right?  Well, no we don’t want a plane full of hangry people, to be sure, but we don’t want yous all bein’ armed with knives and forks, I can tell yer.”

“How about sandwiches, then?”

His eyes bore into mine, then suddenly he burst out laughing.  It didn’t sound sarcastic, like he was going to stop just as suddenly then shoot me…

“Alright.  But yous’ll have to wait a bit while we organise it.”

“How about an aperatif?” said Mark.

Hairy looked at him, genuine amusement on his face.  “Oh, you’d like it all done properly would yer?  And I suppose you expect me to do it all, do you?”

“No, you’ve got staff.  The normal number for a plane this size.  Why not use them.  You’ll get hungry yourself before we get there.”

He shook his shaggy head and walked over to the flight assistant tied to the plane’s door.  “Okay.  I expect your hands are beginning to hurt a bit anyways.”  He took out a knife and cut the rope.  “You go and organise sandwiches or whatever for your passengers, like you’d normally do.  Only no knives and forks.”

She rubbed the circulation back into her sore wrists.  “We have some plastic cutlery.  Is that safe?”

He rubbed the back of his hairy neck.  “Aye.  I suppose they’re not going to do much harm.  But no tricks, I’m warnin’ yer.”

“She looked at him.  “I’ll just have to go up there behind the curtain and get my apron and notebook.  Are my colleagues allowed to help?”

Standing with his feet spread wide, Hairy rubbed the back of his neck again.  “I tell you what.  You come and take the orders in this end of the plane, and you can have a colleague do the same at the back, and yer mates in there can prepare the food.”

Before long we were giving our food orders, and after she’d taken them from everyone, she came back and took our drinks orders.

Mark decided to act like he was my boyfriend.  That was a bit freaky for a moment, then I realised he was trying to talk quietly to me.  “How can we make weapons?”

I snuggled up to him and realised it didn’t feel too bad.  “What if we bound a few plastic knives together?  Would they be rigid enough to do any damage?”

After a moment he said, “I don’t think so. Because then we’d have whatever we tied them with stopping it going into the flesh.”

“Oh.  Good point.  Or rather, not such a good point.  Has Magnus got any ideas?”

He gazed innocently into space for a while, then turned towards our tall ginger friend.  I heard them talking quietly, but not what was said.  I didn’t want to lean that way and look like we were conspiring.  Guilty conscience.

Our drinks arrived, and that felt like a nice piece of normality.

When the woman moved on, Mark put his arm round my shoulder and pulled me towards him.  “They haven’t come up with anything, apart from we need to take all four out at once, without letting the hoodlums in the back hear, or one at a time while they look perfectly unaffected.  Any help?”

I picked up my glass and chinked it against his.  “Cheers!”  And I had an idea.  It occurred to me that these hijackers were not so smart as they thought they were.

I looked at Hairy and Skinny.  They were drinking something from white mugs.  Possibly coffee to keep them alert.  But at least they were drinking something.  If they ate some food as well that could be useful.

I rested my head on Mark’s shoulder again and snuggled my lips romantically to his ear.

“Listen.  If we use tissues, we could try to break off pieces of glass and crunch them up into tiny pieces.  Small enough to go into some food, at least.  Might work for drinks.  They take a mouthful and – ouch!  A sudden cut mouth or throat might be a good distraction.”

“I like your thinking.  But as a work in progress.  We need to get them all distracted at the same time.  Can you think of a way to get those two guys hurt at the same time?”

“Pass the idea on, and I’ll do some more thinking.  But if we get them briefly incapacitated, we might be able to stab them with a shard of glass, something along those lines.”

Mark grinned and planted a kiss on my lips.  Yegads, I liked it!  Evelyn’s advice had been better than I thought.

Mark passed my idea to Magnus, who passed it on to Eileen.

Food arrived for us, and we were still thinking.  I asked the woman if the men were going to eat.  She whispered that they would later, two at a time.

“I may have something for you to put in their food when you bring dessert.  Do the two at the front first.”

She gave me an almost imperceptible nod and moved away.

I leaned towards Mark and whispered.  “Get crushing glass.  Use tissues. Put them on your plate.”

The instruction went down the line.

In between eating with our plastic knives and forks, our hands were busy squeezing and rubbing together to grind up glass inside napkins.  Scrunched up, these were put on the plates, in the normal way when we finished the food, and when our woman came round to collect them, I told her to put the napkin contents in the hijackers’ food.

She whispered in my ear.  “I’ll give you plenty of time with your desserts.  Make some more for the guys out the back.”

Next time she came over, I checked if they were all going to eat at the same time.  Just hairy and Skinny first.  I hoped the other two would come running and we could trip them up and get stabbing enough to steal their guns.

If Agnes could fall off a dinghy and die just by standing behind me, how deadly could I be with broken glass?  Perhaps I gave off a supernatural aura.

The same woman came and served us with coffee and put our dishes, plus dangerous napkins into her trolley.

“Tell as many people as you can to trip up the guys when they come running to assist their mates,” I hissed between clenched teeth.

 

 

Odd things English people say  🤔

 

I don't know if there's anybody out there reading this, but if you exist, I'd love to hear your contributions.

Actually, I've just made my own contribution in that sentence, sort of.  Why do we say "I'd love to HEAR from you", not "I'd love to READ from you"?  Because that's what I'd like to do, read your contributions, not listen to them.

The kind of thing I had in mind when setting out to write this is...  largely alluding me, as things do when you try to pluck examples of something out of your mind!

But here's an old one.  Why do we say "That takes the biscuit" when we're a bit shocked about something?

Or talk about people going "Like a rat up a drainpipe"?  Do rats run up drainpipes much?  How many people can see the rat running upwards inside a drainpipe?  Do they have x-ray vision?

And now my ideas of strange expression have dried up.  Which is true in the accepted meaning of the phrase, but does water in my brain literally evaporate?

And that reminds me of another thing we say.  How we use the word "literally" when we don't mean it literally.  For example, someone says "I have literally just got off the phone to him".  How many people say that when they have been literally standing, sitting, crouching, balancing, lying, dancing (other verbs are available) on a phone?  Not many would be my guess.  They probably would be muffling the sound of the other persons voice anyway.

A lot of our strange English expressions can be tracked down to some sort of logical beginning.  Like someone or something "bites the dust".  You can imagine someone falling down dead, their face hitting a dusty mud surface; not literally biting the dust, but there's a certain sense there.

What about "He's wears his heart on his sleeve"?  That one's a bit gruesome to visualise, but why on a sleeve?  Maybe it originates from having stripes on your sleeve to indicate your rank in the army or the police.  Maybe.  But why not on your collar, or your lapel?  We often have badges or buttons there to signify something.  Or on your upper chest on one side, like a logo on a shirt.  That would be suitable, wouldn't it?  "He wore his heart on the outside".

And thinking of bits of clothing, why do we say "I'll eat my hat" when we're expressing certainty that something won't happen?  What about, "If that doesn't upset him I'll eat my bra"?  Might be easier than a hat.  Or "I'll eat my coat"?  That would show even more certainty.  Eating your coat is probably one of the hardest bits of clothing to eat.  Imagine it.  That would be going "the whole nine yards" wouldn't it!

I'm not doing very well here, am I?  Come on, don't beat about the bush, admit it, I can't think of enough daft expressions.

I don't expect you're thinking I'm the bees knees at the moment.  Why bees knees?  I'm sure they have joints in their legs like most insects, by what's so special about bees knees?  And why are knees supposed to signify something important anyway?  What do you think would be better?  "I feel like I'm the cat's tail when I do well"?

Ooh, I've got another one.  Why are people said to be "bone idle"?  Is it because a bone is an inanimate object and can do nothing of its own volition?  Most of the planet we live on could be said to be lazy.  I mean, I know there's all that molten stuff below the earth's crust, and volcanoes spew out lava, but not because they're putting in an effort.  We could say "As idle as a rock".  But then what's that about a rolling stone (well, it's more or less a rock) gathers no moss.  Does that mean when a rock bothers to roll, when a rock isn't bone idle, it's still no use?  And why do we call a certain genre of music "Rock"?

Have you ever had a "Chip on your shoulder"?  Or a "Bee in your bonnet"?  The last one I can see how it might have come about - it's to do with something in your mind, in your head, under a bonnet if you're wearing one.  But imagine if someone chipped a bit out of your shoulder.  That would be bloody painful, wouldn't it?  Of course, it could be a potato chip on your shoulder, but that's just bizarre.  Imagine walking around balancing a chip on your shoulder for all to see.  People avoiding you because they know something's irritating you.  "There she goes.  I'd keep out of her way if I were you.  She's got a chip on her shoulder."  In my mind's eye, that is hilarious!

Well, I hope these words find you "Fit as a fiddle".  I have no idea why a fiddle should be considered fit, have you?

TTFN  (Look it up, youngster!)