Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom Read Free

Fergus. ‘Any road, how did you get past the dogs?’
    ‘They seemed
friendly enough, well-mannered I thought.’
    Dave muttered
something and seemed about to speak, when a female voice started
singing ‘Rule Britannia’. It was perfect and very loud. It ended
abruptly and all was quiet until the dogs started barking.
    ‘Oh bugger!’
said Dave, ‘Listen lad, come up here. You can wait in the pavilion
while I go and see if Mr Trellis is around. The steps are over
there.’ Dave pointed to the steps set in the terrace wall.
    ‘Quickly lad,
Dave will be off for his lunch soon. Don’t break into a sweat or
nothing.’
    Fergus broke
into a jog and started climbing the steps to the top terrace.
Suddenly he noticed his shadow in front of him and a green light
reflecting off the steps. He turned around. In the circular
courtyard below a green haze glowed. It started to turn lilac and
slowly brightened.
    ‘Never mind
that lad,’ said Dave, ‘it’s a local mirage effect, caused by the
warming effect of the terraces and movement of the magnetic poles.
Come with me, come on, quickly now.’
    But Fergus just
stood there and watched as the light turned violet and then another
colour, which looked almost violet, but was ever so faint.
    ‘Are you deaf?’
shouted Dave. ‘You need to get a move -’
    There was a
claustrophobic silence and the air was thick as a woollen blanket.
Fergus’s fingers felt like huge sausages and there was a smell like
the taste of copper. He seemed to float; it was hard to tell as the
strange light dazzled his eyes.
    Everything
stopped then started again, Fergus’s head jerked, as if he missed a
step and normality, of a sort, returned.
    In the
courtyard were twelve very large men in dull black uniforms and
round helmets. They stood at attention.
    Fergus’s brain
boggled. He drew a deep breath and looked again. They were still
there. The twelve figures moved; they ran fast, spreading out,
turning somersaults, and leaping onto the first terrace in huge,
unbelievable jumps twenty feet in the air.
    They started
shouting.
    ‘Dave?’
    ‘Dave’s not
here!’
    ‘Dave, Dave,
Dave, Davey, Dave, Dave?’
    Dave sighed and
said ‘Fart.’
    Their uniforms
changed colour, one was bright red with black stripes, another dull
green, and one a shifting rainbow with pink stars. Their pattern of
movement changed, they converged and leapt straight towards
Fergus.
    If the Olympics
hosted synchronised jumping, these lads would put the gold medal
winners to shame. From all over the terrace they leapt, one must
have gone 30 feet in the air, and they all landed together in a
neat rectangle. Every one of them dropped to one knee, bowed, and
raised their right forearm to their foreheads.
    Dave Trellis,
wearer of the scruffy trousers and owner of the bushy eyebrows
strode towards them with half a smile on his face. He glanced at
Fergus and the smile disappeared. One of the twelve giant acrobats
stood up, rushed forward, grabbed Dave in a bear hug, and swung him
around. Dave looked small against the huge man, despite his broad,
six-foot frame.
    The rest jumped
up and surrounded him, patting him on the head, punching his
shoulder and even pinching his bum.
    ‘Bonkah Dave.
Happy anniversary. May Rain Gods piss on you consistently,’ shouted
the leader and laughed. His voice was deep as an ocean trench with
a broken, almost Jamaican lilt.
    ‘Bugger off you
bunch of juveniles. Get off me. Who let you lot out again? Can’t
you lot learn to knock? I have company - profane company.’ Dave
glanced toward Fergus.
    ‘Sorry Dave,’
said the leader, ‘but something coming, something big, we
hurried.’
    The leader
turned towards Fergus and gave a very slight bow and then said to
Dave, ‘want me kill it?’
    ‘What? No,
leave it to me.’
    ‘Want knife?’
The leader reached behind his head and from nowhere pulled out a
five-foot broadsword. The sword whirled much too fast for its
apparent weight and ended perfectly still,