The Chimney Thief by Greenfield Holly & Ben Stevens

Author:Greenfield, Holly & Ben Stevens [Greenfield, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Nanbanjin
Published: 2013-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

3

Over the next couple of days, Jerry wondered whom exactly he should ask to help him liberate the chimney pot. For if not too heavy, then the pot would still be far too large for him to be able to carry it back to his house.

So, he needed to find someone who’d access to either a car or a van.

But who? His options seemed somewhat limited. There was always his moronic nephew, Nigel – but Jerry preferred to keep his distance from his late wife’s side of the family. He would never forget, nor forgive, their cutting words following Mary’s funeral, as though his caring actions had somehow attributed to her death.

Father Simon was the proud owner of a Vauxhall Astra, although Jerry doubted that the priest would respond favourably to his request. The Irishman soon realised that there was only one real option: Mrs Mulligan’s next-door neighbour, Martin, who got from A to B in a converted ambulance.

So that Sunday, following Mass, Jerry again began painting the backroom of the presbytery – and then suddenly remembered that he’d left his front door wide open.

‘God bless you, but you’ve probably been cleaned out of house and home by now,’ commented Mrs Mulligan, who’d just entered with a cup of tea.

Slyly eliciting the information that she’d be here for another hour yet, Jerry then hurried away. But he turned right rather than left as he left the presbytery, before walking with quick, excited steps in the direction of Mrs Mulligan’s road.

‘He’s an individual,’ was how the widow sometimes referred to her neighbour, on the occasions when Martin escaped being called either ‘the simpleton’ or ‘Catweazle’.

A tall, dishevelled-looking man with twinkling blue eyes, a scruffy beard and long, silvery-brown hair, Martin was working under the bonnet of his ambulance, parked outside his house, when Jerry approached.

He greeted the Irishman with enthusiasm, going so far as to get two bottles of Guinness from his fridge. And toasting Jerry’s health, wealth and happiness, he then embarked on a lengthy commentary concerning his own affairs.

Finally, with a determined effort, Jerry succeeded in stating the reason behind his visit. Martin listened attentively, only interrupting to refuse the offer of payment. He tried, as requested, to imagine Mrs Mulligan’s delight as she was given her gift; but one thing was confusing him.

‘She’s already got one,’ he reminded, indicating with a grimy finger towards his neighbour’s roof.

Taking a deep breath, and another sip of ale, Jerry tried again. He explained that a chimney pot could conceivably have more than one use, especially when it was as old and beautiful as the one he’d seen. (He’d since gone back to the derelict house, in daylight, to have another look.)

‘…Can you imagine how it would look in Jane’s garden,’ he said in closing, ‘filled with soil and planted with some sort of shrub?’

Martin gave a broad grin, enlightened.

‘I get you,’ he said, adding with a suggestive wink, ‘You old dog.’

In vain did Jerry protest that the pot was intended only as a birthday present.

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