The Shed Pool by Mark Farrer

Author:Mark Farrer [Farrer, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Funny Business Press
Published: 2020-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

FOUR

It was night and Paul couldn't sleep. His foot was bothering him, his mind was busying itself with this idea of trying to hide his tin in one of the allotment sheds, and then there was this mystery of who was hooked up to Keith's electricity supply, and why. It was not relaxing and eventually he gave up trying to sleep. If he wasn't going to get any rest he might as well strike while the wossname was hot. He just needed a torch - Shirley kept one under the kitchen sink.

She was snoring gently beside him, facing the wall. If he was quiet and careful he could escape without waking her. He scooped his clothes up from his floordrobe by the side of the bed and hunched gingerly out of the bedroom.

Out in the crisp night air, Paul ranged the torchlight over the array of sheds skulking in the darkness. The night was thick and heavy with a watery moon casting a little light over the allotments, silhouetting them against the houses behind. There were a lot of sheds out there. Where to start?

The first one he stole up to was locked but using the torch he could see through the grimy windows that it contained gardening tools, a workbench and a deckchair. The second and third were also clearly sheds in regular use.

The fourth, though, struck a chord with him immediately. The windows were covered up with newspaper painted black.

"Why would anyone blackout the contents of an allotment shed?" said a voice in the blackness.

"Not you again." Paul sneered at Cullen's voice in his head, then his heart shot into his throat and he leapt back letting out an involuntarily "Fucking Hell!"

The man himself was leaning calmly against the corner of the shed, arms folded, his leather cowboy hat casually askew.

"What the fuck are you doing here? You scared the bejesus out of me!"

Cullen ignored him and repeated his question: "Why would anyone blackout the windows of an allotment shed?"

"Duh. So you can't see inside."

"And why don't you want anyone to see inside?"

"Tramps?" Paul said, scanning the allotment ground as if the very word could bring a horde of them clamouring into the space.

"Or..." Cullen raised his eyebrows and looked coolly at his friend. "Covering up some illegal activity."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cos it's warm. Can't you feel it?"

Paul raised his hand to a few inches from the shed window, able to feel the heat without even touching it. "Yeah."

"Yeah. So, what do you think might be inside?"

Paul shone his torch directly into Cullen's face, who winced. Paul lowered it slightly so it still illuminated his friend's face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I asked first."

"Yes, you did."

"So answer me then!" Paul scowled and waited. Eventually Cullen spoke.

"Spying on you."

"What! Why?"

"Because you're up to something and I wanted to find out what it was."

"And you thought you'd find the answer in the middle of Walkerburn allotments in the bloody dark?"

Cullen smiled. "Looks like that was a good call, doesn't it?"

"And anyway, I'm not up to anything!" Paul protested.

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