(When the everything falls into place and the truth is revealed. Probably.)
When I was sixteen I went to the police station to rat on a guy called Geoff who was handling all manner of stolen goods in exchange for various types of narcotics and cash. If you needed say a car stereo (and back then you did need a car stereo) or a dozen bottles of paracetamol, then Geoff from the estate was your man. Sadly for Geoff his little brother Alfie threatened to kick my head in after a particularly controversial game of Pom Pom. So I grassed his brother up. The police told me that I would remain anonymous. A week after his door got kicked in, an envelope full of dog turds got posted through my front door and my dad’s Renualt’s tyres got slashed. I’ve always been wary of telling the Old Bill anything since then.
Don’t Tell Anyone – Colour Me Wednesday (2016, Doveton Records, Taken from ‘Anyone and Everyone EP’)
After the message from my wife I went home and sat there on the sofa not quite knowing what to do. I idly picked at a sausage roll from the fridge and mulled the events of today over in my mind. After a good hour or so or debating this I decided to write everything down. Firstly I drew a mind map, I seen some boffins do this on in an episode of NCIS and they solved a twenty year old murder just by doing it, so I did that and when I finished it looked like I sneezed on a bit of paper and then scribbled on it.
Where’s Your Head At? – Basement Jaxx (2001, XL Recordings, Taken from ‘Rooty’)
Then I wrote up my notes and left then on the kitchen table. I sent my wife a message, asking her when she would be home (about eight she said). I decided to tell her my story, from the bit where I was stuck on the roof, right up to the bit when I found out that Veronica had no idea that Kevin had a set of keys to Angela Finch’s house. I was then going to deliver the note to the police station, as long as my wife thought it was a good idea. I didn’t want more bags of dog poo pushed through the letterbox, saying that my letterbox is at the edge of my drive, so it would matter that much.
When I’d finished I slumped back on the sofa, exhausted and then glanced up at the clock it was a quarter to seven in the evening. It was then I realised I had to return Angela’s keys to Kevin so that he could apparently feed the cats. I grabbed my car keys and Angela’s keys and then left the house.
It is about a three minute drive to Kevin’s house. He lives in a small thatched cottage about three doors up from the pub. It has a massive cherry tree at the front and in the summer he sells bags of cherries for a pound a bag. He has a noticeboard erected outside his house in which he usually advertises local events that the church is running.
I parked in the small car park at the back of the church and wandered down to Kevin’s. I said a deliberately cheery “Hello” to an old guy called Eric who lives nearby and was unloading shopping bags from his car, just in case Kevin bludgeoned me death with a spanner. Eric asked me “How I was diddling?” and then went back to his over packed Marks and Spencers bag. One of them had a split in it and I feared for his pork roast.
If I Die – Biff Bang Pow (1987, Creation Records, Taken from ‘The Girl Who Runs the Beat Hotel’)
It was a nice evening, the sun was beginning to go down and there was some warmth in it, the rain of earlier had all gone. I stopped just outside Kevin’s gate and took a few deeps breaths. I sent my wife a quick text asking her if she could pick up some milk on her way home from the hospital (she is a nurse) and left a kiss and then I opened the gate and walked in.
I got about five paces, when Kevin opened the door and waved at me. He was holding a drill at the time and I had several quick flashbacks to my mate Dean’s lounge in the mid nineties and us scaring ourselves stupid aged thirteen watching his dads stash of video nasties.
I pulled the dinosaur keyring out of my pocket and as I did, my phone rang.
It was my wife. I held my hand up to Kevin and turned my back. Which I thought was a daft thing to do considering I thought he was a killer and he was armed with a battery operated drill.
“Hey” I said to my wife.
“Hey” She said, “Can’t talk for long, it’s bedlam here, but just quickly. I’ve just been talking with Angela Finch, her sister’s been taken in with a gastro…”
“What, hang on say that again” I said interrupting, and my wife repeated what she said, I span round and looked at Kevin, he was pretending not to listen on his doorstep.
“Oh thank god” I whispered.
“Her sister is very ill, darling” my wife snapped.
“Oh, yes, I mean, doesn’t matter, carry on”.
Fresh Feeling – Eels (2001, Dreamworks Records, Taken from ‘Souljacker’)
My wife in her duties as a nurse had bumped into Angela Finch on the Ross Kemp Ward at the hospital and had a brief chat with her. Her sister has been taken seriously ill with some sort of stomach issue and after all the pleasantries, she had reminded my wife that I had promised to sort out a wiring problem in her kitchen and that if I was going to do it tomorrow then I could get a key from Kevin, whose feeding the cats and let myself in. I was also told that I could help myself to the ginger cake in the breadbin.
Kevin walked past me and went and stuck something on his little noticeboard and I walked towards him. I looked at the notice as he stapled it to the board.
The Friends of St Andrews Church Present “Agatha Christie Night” was what it said.
“Agatha Christie” I said and looked at him, my voice wobbling largely out of relief.
“Yeah, we are doing a version of ’Murder at the Vicarage’, I’m playing the killer. All a bit of fun. We were practising our lines today at the church. Jean is playing my accomplice and my Ronnie is playing Miss Marple. All a bit of fun. You’ll come along won’t you. Tickets are a fiver…?”
Oh Me, Oh My – James Yorkston (2019, Domino Records, Taken from ‘The Route to the Harmonium’)
Normal service will be resumed tomorrow. And I promise never to do this again.
Thanks – The Wedding Present (1989, RCA Records, Taken from ‘Bizarro’)