Clovenhoof's Diary: May by Heide Goody & Iain Grant

Author:Heide Goody & Iain Grant [Goody, Heide]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Satire, hell, British, Heaven, Humour, satan fantasy, Humor, Comedy
Publisher: Pigeon Park Press
Published: 2019-06-14T23:00:00+00:00

21st May

A broad-chested man in a Church of the Holy Angel t-shirt blocked Nerys’s way as she and Twinkle walked up Sutton Coldfield’s pedestrianised high street. She stepped to move round him but he smoothly stepped to stop her.

“Just doing spot checks,” he said.

“What?” she said. Twinkle yipped.

“Spot checks. Making sure that everyone on the street has the right to be here.”

Nerys wrinkled her nose as if the man was an offensive smell.

“Who doesn’t have a right to be here?”

The man chuckled jovially. “I think we all know that there are people who are making free use of our civic facilities —”

“The pavement?”

“Indeed. Did you know that tramps and hobos come in from other areas to beg on our streets because they know that your average Sutton Coldfield resident is a bit more well-to-do than folks in other areas?”

Nerys looked along the high street.

“What homeless people?”

“Exactly,” said the man. “Moved them along because they had no right to be here. Now, if you would I’d like to see a recent council tax bill or other proof of address.”

“Fuck off.”

“There is no need to be rude, madam,” he said stiffly.

The fact that he called her ‘madam’ instead of ‘miss’ (or ‘love’ or ‘pet’ or ‘sweetcheeks’ or ‘cute arse’ or any of the other acceptable terms of address) did not improve her mood.

“Hoofs!” she commanded.

“What?” said the man and then hollered in alarm as Twinkle savaged his shoes with the kind of brutal energy that only a terrier could muster. He hopped aside, fearful and alarmed.

Nerys and Twinkle carried on.

“What have you got to hide, eh?” the man shouted after her. “If you was a law-abiding citizen, a true local and patriot, you wouldn’t have a problem with spot checks, would you? Eh? Eh?”

Nerys ignored him and continued along to the library. Sutton Coldfield library had had its opening hours slashed in the latest round of local cuts and, since the mayor’s campaign to ban horrifying and violent literature, their book stock had been significantly depleted.

Another Angel Brigade member stood in front of the steps before the library.

“Spot checks,” said the Angel Brigade woman.

“Fuck off,” said Nerys.

“Just need to check you have a library card as proof of local residency.”

“Seriously, lady. Fuck off now.”

“We’re just helping keep local residents safe.”

“From what, you cretinous bell-end?” said Nerys.

“Criminals. Terrorists. Out of area people.”

“What criminals are trying to get into the library, you stupid twat?”

“Anti-social types,” said the woman, snidely. “Those given to unwanted swearing and abuse. I could call the police, so I could.”

“Try it,” said Nerys and pushed past her and into the library.

The two encounters on the street had sent her blood pressure, stress and anger levels through the roof so when an earnest young librarian came over to tell her that dogs were not allowed in the library, Nerys grabbed him by his lapel and gave him a look of furious menace.

“Don’t even try it, mate,” she growled. “Now, I’m looking for Terence.”

“That’s… that’s me,” he stammered.

“Good!” she snapped. “Now, I’m

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