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Chapter Twenty Eight

Gareth

“I feel really bad about leaving your sleeping bag there,” Gareth sighed. “And more importantly, what if the police use it as evidence?”

“Yeah,” Oliver sighed.

The two teenagers were sitting in the back garden of Oliver’s parents’ place and gazing forlornly the treehouse over the hedge. The hole was still there and not blocked off. The guests had all gone and Mr and Mrs Durrence were in the house.

“I want to go and get it.”

“Going in there would be suicide!”

“I know, but I don’t want some police detective sniffing at it,” Gareth sighed.

“That’s fair I suppose,” Oliver nodded. “But seriously, wait till they’re out, and once we have it back I don’t think we should go in there ever again.”

You were the one who encouraged it in the first place, Gareth thought, but he kept his muzzle shut

“Why don’t we stake out and see if they leave?” he suggested instead.

“Farmer McTaggart chased us away from our usual spot,” the Collie sighed.

“No, I mean out the front, so long as they don’t see or smell us,” Gareth said with a grin.

I can get the sleeping bag, and perhaps find a way to get Ralph back, but I’m not telling Oliver the latter part.

“Okay,” Oliver replied. “Let’s go and have a look, but we have to be careful.”

The two canines made their way out via the side gate and cautiously approached the corner of the lane.

Frank’s truck was parked out at the front and as Gareth watched as a white van approached with a Labrador at the wheel.

“Shit, they have more people going to work on the house,” he sighed.

The front door opened and Gareth held his breath as Marcus and Frank walked down the path. Frank waved to the Labrador before he and Marcus began walking down the lane.

“Well, they’ve gone,” Oliver whispered.

“What about the Labrador?” Gareth asked. “Wait, look he’s talking on his phone.” The Labrador was indeed still sitting in the van and engrossed in a phone conversation. “Okay, you stay here and keep an eye on him. I’ll go through the back. Text me if he starts going in the house,” he instructed.

“Right, and you’ll stop going in their house once we’ve got the sleeping bag?”

“Yeah,” Gareth nodded, putting on the most reassuring smile he could, although his mind was already scheming.

“Okay, off you go,” Oliver said.

Gareth darted through the side gate and into the Durrence’s back garden. He wasn’t sure where Oliver’s parents were at, but the sound of the television drifting through an open window gave him an indication.

Good, they’re distracted.

He ran straight for the hole in the hedge and tried to climb through more gracefully, but even being careful didn’t prevent multiple twigs getting caught in his fur and clothes.

“For fuck sake,” Gareth growled as he fell out the other side and hit the grass.

The cottage was just ahead and Gareth knew his mission was to get into the treehouse, not Honeysuckle Lodge, but the power of temptation was pulling him to the back door.

Gareth knew the outcome of finding anything in the house that could tempt Ralph back would be slim, but he wanted to investigate just in case.

As quietly as he could, he opened the back door and crept into the kitchen.

The place was silent and Gareth sniffed about. Frank and Marcus’ scent hung in the air, and he felt sad as he noticed Ralph’s had faded somewhat.

He glanced around the kitchen and noticed a piece of paper with a phone number hastily scrawled on it. Above the number was some messy handwriting, but as Gareth got closer, he deciphered it as Man to look after R’s car.

Gareth gasped as he remembered the conversation Frank had had with Mr Durrence.

Ralph needs someone to look after his car. Should I? No, this is a bad idea. But if I want to talk to him, maybe I could cut out the Marcus part all together…

Gareth darted forwards and picked up the paper. There was a note pad nearby with a short pencil next to it. He tore a fresh sheet off and as carefully as he could, forged the handwriting. A grin spread across his muzzle as he added his own phone number beneath it.

Mission accomplished.

He then eased the back door closed and sprinted back to the treehouse. His phone hadn’t vibrated with a message from Oliver to say the Labrador was in the house, so Gareth scrambled up the ladder, reached through the trap door and tugged the sleeping bag through.

It hit him in the face and almost sent him tumbling down the ladder.

“Shit,” Gareth gasped as the sleeping bag landed with a soft thwump! on the grass.

He hurried down the ladder, tried bundling the sleeping bag up in his arms (which was easier said than done) and ran for the hole.

Okay, how the fuck did Oliver get this thing through in the first place?

Gareth tried stuffing it through the gap, but the sleeping bag seemed to expand and got caught in the hedge. He cursed as he elbowed and kicked it. It somehow contorted its way through, albeit taking more of the hedge with it.

Great, both Marcus and Oliver’s parents are going to notice the hole is bigger.

Gareth put one hind-paw through the hole and reached out to pull the wooden board back into place before fully climbing through.

He pulled out his phone, allowing the sleeping bag to flop onto the ground and frantically texted Oliver a message.

Got the sleeping bag!

Oliver appeared through the side gate a moment later and hurried over.

“How the heck did you get it through the hedge,” Gareth panted.

“I didn’t, I brought it through the front door,” the Collie replied. “Oh great, it’s all muddy. I’m going to have to wash it without my mum seeing.”

The two canines rushed to the back door. The sound of the television suggested that Oliver’s parents were still distracted.

“I need to get an actual change of clothes this time, and my toothbrush,” Gareth said. “Which means sneaking back to not-dad’s.”

“Want me to come too?” Oliver asked.

“Sure, but be prepared to hide just in case Arseny appears,” Gareth replied.

“Okay, wait here. I’m gonna hide the sleeping bag upstairs,” Oliver said.

Gareth waited by the back door as Oliver took the sleeping bag and made his way in the house through the back door.

“Oh, are you planning to put the tent up in the garden?” Gareth heard Mrs Durrence ask.

“Um, yeah,” Oliver replied before Gareth heard the faint sound of him hurrying away.

The Collie reappeared a minute later, minus the sleeping bag.

“Shall we?” Gareth asked.

They made their way through the side gate and out onto the lane. The Labrador had left his van and was now painting the window boxes at the front.

There was no sign of Marcus or Frank, but Gareth hurried by anyway.

The air felt cooler as the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“Do you think summer is coming to an end?” Oliver asked.

“It feels like it,” Gareth agreed. “That means we’ll be to uni off soon.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah,” Gareth nodded, although in his mind he knew being at university would mean being further from Ralph.

They reached the centre of the village and walked by the pub.

“Is that Marcus and Frank in there?” Oliver whispered, pointing to the window.

Gareth glanced in and thought he could make out the wolf and fox sitting at the table together.

“Marcus is a hoe,” Gareth muttered. “Out on dates with Frank and not sad about Ralph.”

“Don’t start that again!” Oliver sighed.

“You know what, I’m over them,” Gareth replied.

“That’s the spirit!” Oliver said, giving Gareth a friendly punch on the arm.

I’m over them as I have a new way to entice Ralph to me, Gareth though. Wait, maybe changing the numbers was a bad idea? They probably had the number I took away memorised or saved. Fuck!

“You all right?” Oliver asked. “You looked like you were cringing.”

“I, uh, got a pain in my jaw,” Gareth claimed.

“Ouch.”

They reached the gates of Arseny’s place and began walking up the driveway.

“How can you not like it here?” Oliver asked. “I mean, this guy has money, a big house, a Bentley and a swimming pool!”

“Having money and pool doesn’t make you a nice person by default,” Gareth countered.

“You know, that’s the most intelligent thing I’ve heard you say.”

“Piss off!”

“I’m just teasing mate,” Oliver grinned. “But I get what you mean, although you really want to leave all of this because Arseny is a wanker?”

“Shush,” Gareth hissed as they neared the front door. “He’s a wanker to my mum, and you sound like her in that she puts up with him just for the financial security.”

Not-dad’s Bentley was parked by the front door and Gareth sniffed the air to check whether he was around.

“He’s in the house, but not out here,” he whispered.

“Do you usually creep around silently like this?” Oliver asked as they opened the door.

“Yes, because,” Gareth began.

“Gareth!” a voice boomed.

“That’s why,” Gareth sighed. “Fucking woo.”

He turned to see not-dad emerging from the library. The puma eyed Gareth up and down with an unfriendly expression before turning to Oliver and fixing him a sickly looking smile.

“Hello there young man, aren’t you Oliver Durrence?” he asked, keeping the smile plastered to his face. “You took part in my community projects.”

“I did Mr Pearidge-Higson.”

“Higson-Pearidge,” Arseny corrected. “But I’m glad to hear that, I hope you can bring Gareth here in line and show him the value of helping out the community.”

“I sure can,” Oliver replied, and Gareth had to resist the urge to elbow the Collie sharply in his side.

“Good,” Arseny continued, maintaining that irritating smile. He then turned to Gareth and fixed him a harder expression. “I’m going to be busy in my office and I’m not to be disturbed, is that understood?”

“Yes,” Gareth said through gritted fangs.

“Oh, and be here for dinner. I have an important announcement to make,” Arseny said, although the way he phrased it came across as a command rather than a request.

“Okay,” Gareth replied, knowing inside that he had no intention of staying.

Arseny fixed them a curt nod before turning and walking in the direction of his office.

“He seems okay,” Oliver whispered. “Beyond the whole shagging girls behind your mum’s back.”

“He’s okay to you because he wants to be a big man and show off, but to me and my mum he’s a knob,” Gareth hissed back. “Come with me,” he added, hurrying back to the front door.

“Where are we going?” Oliver asked.

“I want to find out more about what he’s up to,” Gareth replied. “I listen out by his window as he keeps it open. As I say, for someone up to no good he can be pretty dumb.”

“I see,” Oliver replied, sounding unsure.

“We have to be quiet though,” Gareth whispered as they crept around the side of the house. “And I hope he can’t smell us if we’re both standing outside.”

“Felines don’t have a great sense of smell,” Oliver reasoned. “But I hope so too.”

Gareth gestured for Oliver to keep low and they reached not-dad’s study window. As Gareth had hoped, the pane was slid upwards, leaving a gap he could crouch under and cock an ear to.

Not-dad was playing a piece of unrecognisable classical music and Gareth could hear the faint sound of tapping at computer keys above it. Oliver was trying not to laugh.

He pressed a figure to his muzzle, urging the Collie to stay quiet.

The phone began ringing and Gareth heard not-dad pause the music to answer it.

“Ah, about time you returned my call. I caught one of your men driving his van through the village again. I’ve already said several fucking times they should not do that until the plans become public. If people see them driving about they might ask questions. I’ve already got Francis being too nosy for his own good. Yes, I’m making sure the wolf stays well away. Plan B? I’m not going to resort to that just yet, but know I have the necessary measures in place. Anyway, I’m not going to talk here for too long. My wife and step-son are about. Meet me at the Mansfield site, we’ll talk more there.”

Gareth heard the sound of the phone being put down and not-dad climb out of his office chair.

The office door opened and closed.

“Come on,” he whispered to Oliver.

“Where are we going?”

“To follow not-dad,” he explained. “We know where he’s going.”

The two canines crept along and peered around the corner, just as the front door opened.

“Stop,” Gareth whispered, putting a paw on Oliver’s chest. He watched as Arseny climbed into his car and drove off. The Bentley rounded the turn in the driveway and disappeared from view. Gareth beckoned to Oliver to follow and sprinted over to where his bike had been left. “Here, ride on the front.”

“Are you sure about this?” Oliver asked as Gareth held the bike steady.

“Yes, now climb on!”

Gareth mounted and began peddling. The bike was slowed down by Oliver’s additional weight and it wobbled alarmingly from side to side, but Gareth gritted his fangs and pushed on.

They reached the gates and almost fell over.

“Keep still!” Gareth ordered.

“I am!”

They cycled haphazardly through the village. Gareth noticed the vicar, Mrs Hinchcliffe and the older Collie he had seen outside the pub all shoot them funny glances.

“Fuck, it’s that weird professor,” Oliver groaned. “Go faster!”

“I’m trying, actually we could just walk,” Gareth sighed. “I mean, we know where not-dad is going.”

“True,” Oliver replied as they climbed off the bike close to the road where the Mansfield place was.

“And if anything, riding like this up the street is more likely to attract Arseny’s attention,” Gareth added quietly.

They wheeled the bike between them as they cautiously rounded the corner to the road.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and it was starting to grow dim, but Gareth could make out not-dad’s Bentley parked outside the Mansfield house.

He propped his bike against a tree and they crept past Frank’s house.

The wolf’s truck was not on the driveway and the lights were all off.

“He’s out,” Gareth said with a sigh of relief. “I bet he’s shagging Marcus after their date in the pub.”

“Hmm, that means we can get a better look at Arseny,” Oliver grinned.

“How?”

“If Frank is out, we can climb over the fence to the Mansfield place,” the Collie explained.

“I’m not sneaking through Frank’s property,” Gareth shivered. “I ain’t getting caught by him, and you’ve just lectured me not to go into Marcus’ house!”

“I know, but this is different, and like you say he’s probably at Honeysuckle Lodge with his cock in Marcus,” Oliver replied. "Uh, uh, yeah Frank, bone me harder!”

“Shut up,” Gareth hissed, elbowing Oliver sharply in the ribs. “Gay guys don’t say that when they have sex, and someone will hear us if you do that!”

“Sorry,” Oliver said sheepishly. “But come on, he’s out. Think about it, we can bust Arseny more easily if we watch what he’s doing, and I promise I’m not suggesting this for entertainment. Honestly, something about him hanging out here is starting to creep me out.”

“Okay,” Gareth sighed. “Lead the way.”

He followed Oliver as the Collie skirted along the patch of grass next to Frank’s cottage. They reached the crumbly wall that lined the Mansfield property and found a patch where the top layer of brick had fallen off.

“Let me give you a boost up, and then you give me a paw,” Oliver instructed.

Gareth nodded and Oliver helped him up onto the wall. He reached down and gritted his fangs as he helped the Collie up.

“Okay, let’s go and see what not-dad is up to,” Gareth said, although inside he now felt less than sure about the idea.

They dropped down to the other side and found themselves amongst overgrown grass and weeds.

There was a copse of trees close by and Gareth made for them with Oliver in tow.

“Look,” Oliver whispered, pointing to the entrance to the house.

Gareth crouched down and followed Oliver’s paw. There were three figures standing by the front door to the house. He instantly recognised one as Arseny and the other as the calico. The third was a white setter who seemed to be talking frantically to Arseny.

There was a light breeze blowing through the trees, and Gareth cocked an ear, hoping to hear their voices being carried in it.

“Indeed, unmarked vans from now on,” the setter was saying as Gareth caught their voices drifting in the breeze.

“Good,” Arseny replied. “Next is the matter of trying to complete the sale. The old lady is almost there, just one last push.”

“And having the place officially condemned,” the calico added.

“At this stage I’d rather take a match to it.”

“Plan B?” the setter asked.

“If necessary, anyway, I ought to head home soon. My wife will be back and no doubt demand to know where I’ve been, she likes to control everything and get after me if I’m late,” Arseny guffawed.

You bastard, you control everything, not my mum. You’re making things up about her! Gareth thought.

The setter and Arseny shook paws before Arseny turned to give the calico a hug and a kiss.

Cheating bastard!

The three began walking up the driveway towards the gate, chatting to each other but their voices were now too faint to catch anything.

Gareth watched as they disappeared from view and a minute later he heard not-dad’s Bentley start up.

The evening was starting draw in and Gareth shivered.

“Let’s get back to yours,” he said to Oliver. “Oh fuck, I didn’t grab any clothes.”

“Borrow some of mine,” Oliver replied as they walked to the wall. “So what did you make of all that?”

“Weird,” Gareth replied as Oliver helped him to climb up. “He was talking about Plan B?”

“He was, whatever it means,” Oliver said as Gareth helped him up in turn.

They jumped down on the other side and Gareth fell into a shrub before picking himself up.

“Ouch, anyway, he was talking about matches. Do you think they’re gonna burn the place down?”

“Who is going to burn it down?”

“Fuck!” both teenagers exclaimed it unison.

They turned and saw Frank standing behind them, the wolf’s arms were folded in front of his chest.

“Run!” Gareth yelled.

He began sprinting back towards the road with Oliver hurrying behind him.

“Hey, Gareth come back! I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to talk!” he heard Frank shout, but Gareth kept running until they had put a decent amount of distance between themselves as the wolf.

“God, that was frightening,” Gareth gasped as he grabbed his bike.

“Keep going,” Oliver panted. “Frank might drive after us.”

“Oh fuck, please no!” Gareth exclaimed as he mounted his bike and began peddling with Oliver running after him. “He says he wants to talk, but that’s what people always say before they kill you, at least in movies anyway.”

They continued all the way to Oliver’s parents’ house.

“Next time we get caught, let me cycle and you run,” Oliver wheezed.

“I need a drink,” Gareth replied.

“What, you want booze right now?”

“No, water,” Gareth said. “Then we can discuss what we heard, and then I want booze!"