Recap: Our hero John is on the trail of a new master criminal who has stolen the villages fete stalls. He has been sent on something of a wild goose chase and after a rather bad defeat of dominoes in a pub in an unknown location, John is a little unsure about what to do next. Having spent all night with some cows and now smelling like them! He's spotted a cottage. Perhaps he'll get some answers from there.
Bollocks! I thought as I wiped away bits of cow dung whilst creeping up the front path towards the cottage. Smoke was rising from the chimney, so surely someone was in? I knocked on the door, but no reply. I peered through the front window into a pristine lounge with a burning fireplace. No-one was in. Being a detective and all that I decided to venture around the back, but closer inspection revealed very little. In fact nothing other than a bucket of dead weeds and other garden waste. I knew this because I had inadvertently put my foot in it which was mixing well with the cow dung!
I really wasn't making much progress here. The trail had run dry and I was defeated. The Yellow Fingernail victorious and the villages fete a shambles, all because of me! Looking around for some inspiration I saw a clearing over the back garden wall and beyond that a church. Perhaps the Vicar was there. They'd help, what with them being a person of the cloth. I climbed over the wall, landing in a pile of compost! This really wasn't my day. Dusting myself down I stepped around the gravestones. The wind had picked up and it was turning decidedly stormy. A clap of thunder could be heard in the distance. A shiver went down my spine. As I approached I noticed a light flickering inside the chapel confines, also a bellowing sound that was on the one hand horrific and the other very familiar.
I climbed up to the window ledge and peered inside. My heart missed a beat, maybe two? No wonder the singing seemed recognisable and awful, it was my Mother! This just didn't make any sense? She turned towards the window and saw what appeared to be a green monster (me in cow dung, manure and weeds presumably) looking goggled eyed straight at her. She let out an almighty scream and pelted towards the chapel door, her screams increasing in pitch (it was better than her singing that was for sure). I fell down from the ledge and went in pursuit, tripping on a gravestone and landing in a area of stinging nettles.
In pain, covered in poo and looking like something out of the latest Hammer Horror film I finally arrived at the church door. Mother nowhere to be seen. Slumping to the floor I burst into tears. My own mother running away from me. I was broken.
I must have spent the next hour crying, when suddenly a hand touched my shoulder.
"What's the matter my boy?" came the voice. "Looks like someone needs a bath" the voice continued.
I looked up and there stood the Vicar with a peg over his nose. I must smell? I looked again because the Vicars features seemed very similar to my own. Sitting down, close to me he listened intently as I explained my story. I reached the point where he had met me when I looked up once more. His face had changed to a deep red colour.
"What's wrong? I mean I know I'm covered in muck and look a wreck, have given you a tragic story,blah, blah, blah, but you look like you've seen a ghost."
"I think I have", he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"You're my Son" he said and fainted.
Part 8 of On the Trail of the Yellow Fingernail coming soon.