Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom (37 page)

‘Shame we
couldn’t use gold,’ said Dave, ‘That would be asking for trouble
and bronze is almost as good.’

‘Tenth time
Dave, try new tune,’ said Enoch.

‘Like
yourself?’

‘Image is
warrior. Speak rough, sound tough.’

‘You certainly
fooled Fergus.’

Enoch grinned,
‘I wonder how his endeavour proceeds?’

Fergus felt
itchy all over. So much for the luxury of silk; his codpiece was
riding up and the gorget felt like a noose; still it was nice of
Uncle Bran to lend him his old armour. He was even more grateful to
Boadicea finding him a docile horse, amenable to surreptitious
sugar lump bribery.

Fergus sat on
the horse waiting. In front was a small hill, topped with a ring of
tall Beech trees, behind a column of two hundred Tuatha De Daanan
in full ceremonial armour and beside him was Boadicea, stunning in
gold and leather carrying the royal banner of her father’s house.
Below him on a stout, Shetland pony sat the Noggin staring at a
small device. It looked up at Fergus and shook its head.

‘It’s time.
Let’s go,’ shouted Fergus and nudged his horse. It didn’t move.
Fergus leant forward awkwardly with an outstretched hand and
offered the nag a sugar lump. The bribe accepted, the horse walked
forward and the column started to move.

‘Nothing’s
happening.’ whispered Fergus to Boadicea.

‘Patience, my
love; they’re duty bound and must comply.’

The column
started climbing the hill. Fergus searched the scenery for any sign
of activity, his stomach gripped by anxiety and his bladder
reminding him of a common issue with full armour. Mindful of
Boadicea’s matter of fact explanation of the usual solution, yet
unsure of her sense of humour he decided to hold on for as long as
possible.

Then the ground
shook and with a deep grumble, like an old man disturbed from an
afternoon snooze, the earth opened. A ragged entrance, like a
garage door covered in lawn, opened. By the time the column reached
it, a long, stone tunnel appeared and in the distance the exit
showed clear blue sky and sunlight, contrasting the grey clouds
above.

As they entered
the tunnel, Boadicea nudged her horse closer to Fergus until their
knees touched and reached out to him. He leant over and kissed
Boadicea.

‘A fabulous
victory my love,’ said Boadicea, ‘No-one can deny you are a hero
after this. Finally we return home after so many millennia.’

A huge grin,
spread over Fergus’s face and then as Boadicea moved away, he
slipped sideways and fell off his horse.

The early
morning sun shone on St Catherine's allotments, turning the
sandstone walls gold and lifting the dew in a fluffy blanket of
mist. Two stone-faced terraces curved inside the huge, circular
walls, their symmetry broken by the barbican on one side and a dark
tunnel entrance on the other.

Dave Trellis
watched the allotments come to life as he sipped tea on the
veranda.

‘It’s quite
lovely; sunshine, the scent of jasmine and breakfast for two with
white tablecloth and best china,’ said Maeve as she reached for
another slice of toast.

‘Scent of
compost more like and breakfast for two won’t last; the bloody
council are trying to build shoeboxes for the desperate on my land.
I will illustrate exactly where they can shove their compulsory
purchase order, with a pop-up edition of Grey’s Anatomy.’

‘Get over
yourself Trellis,’ said Maeve.

‘And there’s
the wedding,’ said Dave, ‘can’t be doing with all that pomp and
circumstance.’

‘It was nice of
Boadicea to lend you armour, after all you are the Knight of
Honour.’

‘That was a
plot hatched by both of them in a fit of drunken giggles and I will
have my vengeance. I get to give a speech; they didn’t think that
one through.’

‘Oh Dave. Come
on, Fergus and Boadicea love you, they want you to be part of their
special day.’

‘I admire the
way you managed to get all the way through that sentence without
cracking a smile.’

Maeve
grinned.

Suddenly
barking dogs ran out of the Catacombs entrance.

‘Hey up, what’s
this? Has Abbey returned early?’ asked Dave.

The ground
shimmied in a slow wave and Dave felt himself lift and settle like
small boat on a wave. Dave looked at Maeve, her eye brows shot
up.

‘That’s not
normal,’ she said.

‘It is not,’
said Engineer, who appeared sat on a chair at the table. He wore an
immaculate black suit and still looked like a bank manger after a
clumsy proctology procedure.

‘Engineer, an
unexpected intrusion; something you want to talk about?’ asked
Dave.

‘It is, without
exception, the most annoying thing that has happened since I let
you descend from the trees. What puts the cherry on top of this
complete shambles is that it is entirely your fault Trellis. Come
with me.’

Dave managed
‘Here we go agai-’ before he and Engineer disappeared with a pop of
displaced air.

What do you mean by
‘One Life, One Woman, One Shed?

You have one
life; live it to the full. There is only enough time to devote
yourself to one woman, choose her wisely. If you manage these two
things, you will need a shed; a temple of masculine solitude and
independence in which to gather your thoughts and get on with your
endeavours.

How come you have
off-world visitors when Faster Than Light travel is impossible.

Good question.
Faster Than Light travel is impossible as shown by the Einstein’s
special theory of relativity. As you approach the speed of light,
mass increases and length decreases and you can never get enough
energy to push past this limit. However, Einstein proposed that
time was absolute and bound to space – the famous space time
continuum.

You cannot
travel faster than the speed of light, as this is the limit of the
movement of information. You cannot travel in time and move
information faster than light. If you accept that time is not
absolute and can be changed, then the speed of light is not a
limitation. If you store time, then information stays in its own
timeframe and when it is returned to its original timeframe, the
time is also returned, then the laws of physics are not broken.

Is that
pseudo-scientific BS for real?

Nobody
researches this much, as everyone accepts that time is an absolute
and bound inextricably to space. Physics is currently in a bit of a
pickle, what with Quantum Entanglement, Dark Matter, the Higgs
Boson weighing too much and even Stephan Hawkins is uncertain.

There are only
a few things I believe: Parallel Universes do not exist, Quantum
Mechanics is as limited as Newtonian Physics, Infinity is a null
concept and Time is quantised and not an absolute. Add all these
together for a new Chrono Mechanical Physics that none of us can
understand. The engineering will be vast and the outcomes
unbelievable, in fact it could be awesome, perhaps the only time
that word has been used properly since delusional people thought
they experienced their god.

Why did you call your
main character Dave Trellis?

The BBC Radio 4
programme ‘I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue’ and its legendary and sadly
missed Chairman, Humphrey Lyttleton was often written to by Mrs
Trellis of North Wales. I stole the surname as I thought it amusing
and of course, Dave is the name of the sort of bloke that owns an
allotment shed.

Why dogs? Surely their
skulls are too small to contain an intelligent brain.

They are suited
to the role of reconnaissance and their loyalty is impeccable. Thus
they suit the SAS style role in which they are portrayed. Besides,
dogs are often pathetic and inherently funny.

What’s all this about
the Tuatha De Danaan then?

Look it up.
Google is your friend.

And what’s all this
Brentford nonsense?

Please read
Robert Rankin’s fabulous and funny Brentford trilogy to appreciate
the wonder that is Brentford. It is thus a suitable location for
the Dark Library and so happens to be directly south of
Huddersfield, the logical path of the M7.

Are you going to write
any more Dave Trellis books?

Glad you asked.
Yes, already in progress and awaiting receipt of suitable funds, in
order to skive off work and write more.

Any advice for other
amateur authors?

I can only
offer Douglas Adam’s advice, which was; write a radio play for the
BBC. If nothing else it will tighten up your dialogue.

Can I get in contact
you?

Sure, why not:
[email protected]

Just don’t
expect me to comment on your work – you need to form your own
opinions. Or post it to www.youwriteon.com. They are a
knowledgeable bunch and many can be truly helpful.

Did you make up this
FAQ yourself to make it seem like somebody actually cares?

Yes, sad isn’t
it.