The Clementine Complex by Bob Mortimer

Author:Bob Mortimer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scount Press
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

16

MY FIRST INSTINCT ON finding Lassoo apparently abandoned in the burgled flat was to call the police. They simply asked if I was able to secure the premises and look after the dog. I explained that I considered Grace to be vulnerable, but they insisted that I was to wait for forty-eight hours before phoning them again. They gave me an official crime number and explained that a community police officer would visit, hopefully within the next forty-eight hours.

I phoned in sick and took the day off work, then went out in the car with Lassoo to search for Grace. He sat on the back seat and seemed to grow confused by the sounds and the motion of the car. He decided to force his head into the gap between the passenger headrest and the seat. The gap was so tight that it dragged his rear gum backwards, revealing his dirty yellow teeth. Saliva started to dribble through the opening in his mouth and slowly make its way down the front surface of the seat. There was a real danger that it would start to pool and soak into the cushion. I tried to push his head back through the gap while still driving but found my hand getting covered in the warm mouth gloop. I wiped it off onto my trouser leg. This motion caused a majority of the gunge to collect in the spaces between the fingers of my left hand. I held the hand out in front of me and slowly separated the fingers. As the fingers spread, it gave the effect that they were actually webbed.

“Quack quack,” I said to Lassoo.

He stuck out his tongue, allowing another dollop of the stuff to fall onto the seat. I decided to pull the car over and attend to releasing Lassoo from the headrest trap. By the time I had got out of the car and opened the rear passenger door, Lassoo had already freed himself, and he ran right past me into the grounds of St. Giles’ Church.

The churchyard fronted straight onto the main road, separated only by a low flint wall. The grounds were mainly laid to lawn with a few fruit trees dotted here and there. It was a favorite haunt of the local homeless, and a couple of groups of them were sat around boozing and chatting. Lassoo was on the lawn making to produce a number two but failing in his efforts. I shouted his name, and one of the homeless blokes started copying my call. Lassoo ran over to the bloke, who started making a right fuss of him before walking him over to me on his lead.

“Thank you,” I said. “He just ran out of the car when I opened the door.”

“You should be more fucking careful, then, shouldn’t you?” he replied.

“Yes, you’re right. Anyway, thanks again.” I held out my hand as if to request a transfer of dog possession.

“No, I think I’ll keep him,” said the bloke.

I tried to quickly assess what I was dealing with here.

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