Death and Boules (A Follet Valley Mystery) by Ian Moore

Author:Ian Moore [Moore, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Duckworth Books
Published: 2025-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Richard lay still, trying not to further aggravate the angry swarm of hornets currently conducting some kind of heavy-metal karaoke concert inside his head. Just when he thought he’d reached a position where the clamour was just about tolerable, the hornets would move up a gear or the noise would change altogether. Briefly it had been the same noise his bicycle used to make when he pegged an ice lolly stick to the wheel spokes, a memory-inducing tumult that would normally give him a warm nostalgic feeling. This morning, however, it made him feel sick. And he clung on to the bed as it span violently like a fairground attraction. More childhood memories. ‘The louder you scream, the faster we go!’ repeated a hollow DJ voice above the disco beat of the music. The teenage flashback was accompanied by the smell of candy floss and toffee apples which he felt sure would tip him and his stomach right over the edge.

There was though a silver lining to this darkest of clouds. Yes, it hurt. Yes, he might never be quite the same after it. And yes, he would never touch a drop of alcohol again for the rest of his life, the current projection of longevity being roughly twenty-five minutes. But, like Edith Piaf herself, he had absolutely no regrets. He realised of course that getting inebriated to forget his current travails was neither big nor clever. It was, in fact, childish, irresponsible and bordering on cowardice.

It had worked though.

Rough as he felt, yesterday’s antics had provided a welcome, all too brief, hiatus from what he saw as his now quite insurmountable problems. None of which, he convinced himself, were of his own making. He was being used like a traditional maypole had been his conclusion. He just stood there, still and strong, while various other parties danced around him and tied him up in knots. Yesterday he had, for a short while at least, thrown off those shackles and he would repeat the adventure in an instant. Well, maybe not this instant but an instant some time in the future when his head didn’t feel like it was being grated for a side-salad.

The thing is, though it had been a temporary respite and though it had served its purpose, it was time now to tackle things head on. Get back in the game. He had come to some pretty big decisions the night before, none of which he could now remember, but as soon as he did so the world had better look out. Richard Ainsworth wasn’t going to take this lying down anymore. Though he thought it best to wait until he could stand at least.

He opened one eye. Then closed it immediately, not having liked what he saw. It was entirely possible that he was still a little on the wrong side of completely sober and, therefore, what he saw was some sort of wine-fuelled mirage. He took a deep breath, opened both eyes and closed them again.

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