Goosed by Sasha Payne

Author:Sasha Payne [Payne, Sasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf

BRYN PUTS his mobile into his pocket and continues up the pathway to the farmhouse.

“Hello?”

“Ai there, lad.”

“Good morning, I’ve come for the goose.”

“Ah, yes. Come around, lad.”

MARK FINISHES visiting the most distant farms and the most elderly inhabitants by midafternoon. He has chopped and fetched wood, retrieved ancient decorations from the tops of wardrobes, and balanced on his tiptoes to place a fairy on the top of a tree. He’s sore and tired as he parks the police car in the communal car park.

He exchanges cheerful greetings with the children playing in the street, dodging the mischievously thrown snowballs and throwing a few of his own.

“Hello! I’m back,” Mark calls out, taking off his heavy coat.

Honk, honk.

“You’re back early,” Bryn says brightly. He helps Mark out of his coat and gives him a squeeze around the waist.

“Ooh, you’re in a good mood.”

“I’m just pleased to see you nice and prompt.”

Honk, honk.

Mark raises his eyebrows questioningly. “What was that?”

“What?” Bryn asks innocently.

“That noise.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Mark narrows his eyes and hands Bryn his coat, scarf, and an armful of colorful bundles.

“What’re all these?”

“Christmas presents from Mrs. Abernachie.”

“I don’t know, you come in here flaunting gifts from your sugar mummy,” Bryn says sadly.

“There’s one for you as well,” Mark points out.

Rustle, rustle, honk, rustle.

“There’s a present for you from Rowan under the tree,” Bryn says after a beat.

“I suppose you didn’t hear that either?”

“I heard you say ‘I suppose you didn’t hear that either,’” Bryn offers helpfully.

Honk! Honk!

“I think that there are mysterious honking sounds coming from somewhere nearby,” Mark explains.

“Ah, do you?”

“I do, indeed.”

“Can’t say I heard anything out of the ordinary myself,” Bryn says sweetly.

“I shall investigate,” Mark says, wagging a finger and struggling not to laugh.

Bryn salutes sharply.

Mark stalks out of the room and into the corridor.

Honk! Rustle, rustle. Honk!

Mark looks back at Bryn and then peers suspiciously into the cell.

“Sergeant Powell,” Mark says in a deceptively casual voice.

“Mmm?” Bryn asks, hanging up Mark’s coat and scarf.

“Made any arrests today?”

“No, don’t think so.”

“Think carefully,” Mark advises. “I believe this one might stick in the memory.”

Bryn bites his lower lip and stares thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Nope, no bells ringing.”

“So it just wandered in on its own accord, then?”

“What did?”

Mark scowls playfully at Bryn. “This big white, flappy thing in the cell.”

“A big white, flappy thing?” Bryn asks, theatrically astonished. He joins Mark by the cell door and stands with his arms around Mark’s waist, peering through the peephole.

“See?” Mark digs Bryn in the ribs.

“Medium-sized white, flappy thing. Small white, flappy thing really.”

“There is no such thing as a ‘small’ goose,” Mark argues. “Even the babies are as big as chickens!”

“Oh, you’re exaggerating,” Bryn says, kissing the side of Mark’s face.

“What’s it doing in there?”

Bryn squints through the peephole. “Pecking at the firewood.”

Mark tilts his head and looks up at Bryn silently.

“What do you want me to say?”

“How did it get here?” Mark asks.

“Well, when a mummy bird and a daddy bird love each other very much….”

Mark throws up his arms and walks off into the kitchen.

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