Elliot sat on his suitcase. After the episode last week where his paranoia over Thaddeus’ deviancy got the best of him, he had asked his grandfather if he could stay with him for a week. Now, he waited by the side of the road for the taxi that had been sent to pick him up. The road was long and faced into the sun. All cars looked the same travelling down it. Every time a cloud of dust approached, Elliot stood up expectantly. Each time, he sat again disappointed. The taxi eventually pulled up as darkness was approaching. The man driving it had a bald patch and a beard. He stepped out of the taxi. ‘You must be Elliot? Great. Just put your stuff in the back and wait a minute while I have a cigarette, if you don’t mind?’ He seemed quite genial, despite the journey. Elliot obliged. The taxi driver apologised when he got in. ‘Sorry about that. Been on the road for nearly a hundred miles. Alfred said you wouldn’t mind. I’m Bob, by the way.’ ‘Thanks, Bob. Alfred a friend of yours, then?’ ‘Yeah, we’ve been friends for ages. He perked right up when you asked to stay with him. He hasn’t seen you in ages.’ Bob gave him a mock disapproving glance. Elliot was not really in the mood to talk. He had counted himself lucky last week. Three weeks prior, he had woken to the sound of breaking glass and a thud. When he had inspected the next morning, it turned out the window of the guest room next to his had been smashed and a bullet had gone through the pillow. After that, he had made a habit of changing beds each night. If it had been someone Thaddeus sent last week, they would have been stealthier, and killed him silently, leaving his body in a peat bog. He had decided he was lucky to be alive. Bob kept up an unending monologue about the weather, Elliot’s grandfather, the cheese at the local shop, until one word brought Elliot out of his reverie. ‘Sorry, what was that?’ ‘I asked how your Uncle was doing.’ ‘Thaddeus?’ ‘That’ll be the chap.’ ‘He keeps trying to have me killed, but apart from that, he’s keeping well.’ ‘You know, Elliot, that’s a serious accusation.’ Again, Bob shot him the look of mocking disapproval. ‘any reason?’ ‘He wants the house and the money.’ Elliot was sure he heard Bob mutter, ‘No wonder.’ They had gone a bit further down the road when bob asked, ‘How many secret passages have you found yet?’ ‘Secret passages?’ ‘Yes. Me and Alfred spent ages in them when we were young. We found eighteen, but I suspect there were a lot more.’ ‘I haven’t found any.’ ‘no, they were rather secret.’ ‘shouldn’t think that that’s the reason Thaddeus wants the house.’ ‘no, of course it isn’t.’ Bob leant across conspiratorially, as though someone might be listening. ‘Have you never heard the legend of the Sinclair gold?’ ‘No.’ ‘Really? You surprise me. They say, somewhere on those moors are five hundred doubloons. I don’t know how much that’s worth, but it’s more than most people ever see in their lives! They say, it’s buried under that very house.’ Bob chuckled. ‘Not that any of it’s true, of course.’ With the sudden revelation ringing in his ears, Elliot sat astounded in his seat. They turned off the motorway shortly after, the car disappearing into the oncoming evening mist.
Elliot sat on his suitcase. After the episode last week where his paranoia over Thaddeus’ deviancy got the best of him, he had asked his grandfather if he could stay with him for a week. Now, he waited by the side of the road for the taxi that had been sent to pick him up.
ReplyDeleteThe road was long and faced into the sun. All cars looked the same travelling down it. Every time a cloud of dust approached, Elliot stood up expectantly. Each time, he sat again disappointed.
The taxi eventually pulled up as darkness was approaching. The man driving it had a bald patch and a beard. He stepped out of the taxi. ‘You must be Elliot? Great. Just put your stuff in the back and wait a minute while I have a cigarette, if you don’t mind?’ He seemed quite genial, despite the journey.
Elliot obliged. The taxi driver apologised when he got in. ‘Sorry about that. Been on the road for nearly a hundred miles. Alfred said you wouldn’t mind. I’m Bob, by the way.’
‘Thanks, Bob. Alfred a friend of yours, then?’
‘Yeah, we’ve been friends for ages. He perked right up when you asked to stay with him. He hasn’t seen you in ages.’ Bob gave him a mock disapproving glance.
Elliot was not really in the mood to talk. He had counted himself lucky last week. Three weeks prior, he had woken to the sound of breaking glass and a thud. When he had inspected the next morning, it turned out the window of the guest room next to his had been smashed and a bullet had gone through the pillow. After that, he had made a habit of changing beds each night. If it had been someone Thaddeus sent last week, they would have been stealthier, and killed him silently, leaving his body in a peat bog. He had decided he was lucky to be alive.
Bob kept up an unending monologue about the weather, Elliot’s grandfather, the cheese at the local shop, until one word brought Elliot out of his reverie.
‘Sorry, what was that?’
‘I asked how your Uncle was doing.’
‘Thaddeus?’
‘That’ll be the chap.’
‘He keeps trying to have me killed, but apart from that, he’s keeping well.’
‘You know, Elliot, that’s a serious accusation.’ Again, Bob shot him the look of mocking disapproval. ‘any reason?’
‘He wants the house and the money.’
Elliot was sure he heard Bob mutter, ‘No wonder.’
They had gone a bit further down the road when bob asked, ‘How many secret passages have you found yet?’
‘Secret passages?’
‘Yes. Me and Alfred spent ages in them when we were young. We found eighteen, but I suspect there were a lot more.’
‘I haven’t found any.’
‘no, they were rather secret.’
‘shouldn’t think that that’s the reason Thaddeus wants the house.’
‘no, of course it isn’t.’ Bob leant across conspiratorially, as though someone might be listening. ‘Have you never heard the legend of the Sinclair gold?’
‘No.’
‘Really? You surprise me. They say, somewhere on those moors are five hundred doubloons. I don’t know how much that’s worth, but it’s more than most people ever see in their lives! They say, it’s buried under that very house.’ Bob chuckled. ‘Not that any of it’s true, of course.’
With the sudden revelation ringing in his ears, Elliot sat astounded in his seat.
They turned off the motorway shortly after, the car disappearing into the oncoming evening mist.